Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1064 — page 13: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

' ‘ . r -yer uncle now? ‘galoot among yer that kin pass ther ordeal like and the woman was kept busy well into tbe night. She talked a little to every customer who came under her hands, and looked at each face search- ingly, but this latter was not noticed, Occa- sionally, too, she would scan the room closely, But if in search of any particular person, it was plain that she did not find the one she looked for, She asked no questions, and no one noticed anything of the trifling points mentioned—tri- fling in all appearances, Finally, she declared herself tired out, and must stop work, though it was plain that her customers would have held out till morning, had she remained. Perbaps they would have con- sidered it as a great compliment to her to have done so, But that was out of the question, There was no further excitement that night, and shortly after the lady barber had closed her shop the camp was in slumber. CHAPTER XVIIL, MADAM SIBYL TESTED. ANOTHER day dawned, Quiet and order reigned in the little camp, ad-man Ben was on hand bright and early ee shave, but the barber was not so early. She had told Rusty Leary on the previous night that she would not resume her business till after- nats and he might so announce should any one call, ‘** Ain’t that too durn bad!” exclaimed Bad- man Benjamin. ‘‘ Hyar I have got up’arly ter have her gentle fingers play over my face again, ter take out jest a leetle chunk more, an’ I was comin’ in again this afternoon, too. I’m goin’ ter work ther snap twice a day, anyhow, if [ have ter set up till midnight ter do it, you bet!” There was no help for it, so Mr. Bad-man had to bring his stock of patience to bear and seek other pastime while he waited, ‘*Hyar’s jest ther ticket!” he cried when, on leaving the saloon, he caught sight of the for- tune-teller’s tent near the bridge. ‘“T’ll go an’ it me fortune took while [ wait, Bet yer life ‘ll come out wi’ a gilt-edge diplomer, bound around wi’ silk an’ satin. Come erlong, any o’ you galoots what wants ter hear my record read a la cai Bet yer life thar ain’t no flies on pel away he went for the tent of Madam Some of the loungers about the saloon followed him, to see the fun, if there was to-be any. ** Hello, in thar, old witch!” the fellow cried when he came to the tent, and he slapped on the flap with the blade of his bowie, ‘' Time you was up an’ ’tendin’ ter biz, Hyar’sa feller what wants bis fortune took mpht off soon, an’ in ther latest approved style. Hustle out hyar an’ let’s hear what yer has got ter say. want ther cleanest an’ whitest record ye ever guv a galoot in yer life, D’ye hear? mble out hyar an’ show yerself,” The piping voice of the old woman was heard within, saying she would be out in a moment, and presently she emerged. She was a hideous looking object. Her coarse hair was standing every way, her dark skin looked darker than ever, its lines looked deeper, and with daubs of new paint she was simply a fright. : It is rather early in the morning, gentle- eae she remarked, ‘‘ but how can I serve oO Mh ‘* I want ter hear me fortune told,” cried Ben, I am fre dyin’ ter know what ther future hev ot laid by in stock fer yours truly.” t me look at your hand,” the woman re- quested, Bad-man extended bis dirty paw willingly enough, and the old hag looked at the palm, **'You told me you wanted a clean and white record, and a future to be proud of,” she re- marked, ** You hit it prezack,” the fellow assured. ‘I ecient y spoke to them effect on ther p’int. Let e. **I will oblige you,” the woman went on. “TI think that kind of fortune will please you much the better, sir, Now for it, Your hand tells me that you'are'a remarke lly honest man— too honest for your own good, in fact, All your quiet thoughts are of a serious turv, You will eventually become a preacher, will marry a p+ ed of wealth, will live to ripe old age and © happy. “He, hs, haw!” roared Bad-man, “ How ar’ that fer a send-off, lads? What do yer think of Vl bet thar ain’t ary other that, an’ come out as spotless, A preacher, hey? Haw, haw, haw! That tickles me ter death, that does,” But his merriment had the ring of being as- sumed, It was not as full and hearty as it might have been, The old bag’s remark that she thougbt a ** clean and white record and a future to be proud of” would suit him better than the truth, as she intimated, had dampened his ardor. ‘**'Who’s ther next?” he cried, looking around over the group. ‘*T can’t tell any more fortunes now,” the old woman spoke 3 © ‘*Tt is too early, and I have not had my breakfast. I consider it a good omen to have a call on business before breakfast, and | always hasten to meet it, never charging anything. I thank you, sir,” With that she turned and went immediately back into her tent. ‘“‘That’s what I call real decent,” remarked Bad-man, as he turned away. “That is ther sort of a fortune-teller I like. She’s real busi- ness, through and through, she is, Come, boyees, let’s go an’ take somethin’ on ther strength o’ my bein’ a preacher one o’ these days. Haw, haw, haw!” He turned back in the direction of the saloon, the cthers characte Later on, when the old hag had breakfasted, and had made an effort toward enhancing her ap- pearance, she appeared on her stool at the door of her tent. Above her on the flap of the tent bung a small, crude sign, bearing her name and stating that she was the far-famed fortune-teller from the far-away East. And to that was affixed her scale of prices, A group of idlers was around, as always is the case when there is an object of curiosity to stare at, and as the old hag took her place, after hang- ing up her sign, she inquired if she could serve any of them, But none of them seemed to have the courage to test her powers, While tbey were hanging back, talking among themselves, none very anxious to be the first, a light, airy form suddenly appeared among them making straight for the place where the old fortune-teller was sitting. It was Flora Dun- barge, and at her coming the men made way before her, each with a respectful good-morning. She acknowledged with a nod and quiet word, but her face had a troubled look, and she was in a hurry. ‘*Do you pretend to explain mysteries, old lad y f” she bastened to ask, ‘“Ay, that I do,” was the response, ‘I can er you what brings you here, if you want proof of it. The group of men were stepping near to hear what passed. They appeared ready to retreat, nae iad at the slightest sign from Miss Dun- rge. *“1@ you can tell me that, it will be proof in- deed, for you certainly have no means of guess- ing. Tell me what my errand is, and if you rt right I will pay you well for some informa- on. ‘You have come to ask me about a missing lady, a lady of dark complexion, I take her to be—by certain signs in your face of which vou know nothing. ou have not known the lady long, but she has disappeared and you are very anxious about her.” ‘*How in the world could you know that? cemanded the young lady in great surprise, ‘*T read it all in your face,” was the response. “Now you want me to tell you where this or is—or at any rate something about ‘* Yes, yes; tell me everything you can, for I am very much troubled about her. Her disap- pearance was so strange that I am afraid ene- mies have carried her off.” “*Have fears no more on that line,” was the assuring answer, ‘‘That lady is alive and per- fectly well, asI can see, She is in no danger, and is perfectly free, but I cannot tell you where she is nor why she went,” “Why, how is that? If you can tell me so much, Madam Sibyl, why can you not tell me that much more?” , “Is it not plain to you? What she herself would keep secret from you, that I cannot read. My “hy: is limited, after all, you see,” ‘So it seems, but I am glad for the assurance you have given me that she is alive and well. I suppose she went away from here of her own accord, did she not?” ‘Yes, of her own accord, as I can see.” ‘** But you cannot tell me why she went.” ** No; that I cannot tell,” ; ** Will she return?” ** Oh, yes; it is quite likely that she will re- i » - 13 turn some time. You will probably hear from her to-day.” ** How am I to hear from her? In what man- ner will she come, if she intends to come at allf I must know that,” ‘*She will not come here to-day, lady, but it is. quite probable that you will get a letter, either at the post-office or by messenger. Now, can § tell you anything more?” Flora Dunbarge was mystified, How was it possible for any one to have such knowledge? ‘No, there is nothing more now,” she said. ‘‘T may come and see you again on another mat- ter, if what you have told me comes true.” ‘* Very well, my child. I will not attempt to read further now. If I can serve you in any way, come tome,” “T will do so. And now how much is the charge for what you have told me?” ‘*Nothing. If you think of coming again, let: it rest,” So the old hag dismissed her, with a wave of the hand that seemed to bid her depart at once, and tossing some money into her lap, Flora turned away. The report of this remarkable interview soom spread, and the old hag soon had all the business: she could attend to. She told some remarkable fortunes, whether there was anything in her power or nct, And so passed another day without any great excitement. Bad-man Ben had his two shaves in the afternoon, and looked like a freak. The womau barber was kept busy. So was the for- tune-teller. The woman of the coffin experi- ence was better, and was out of her room, Nothing worthy of note took place till even- ing, when the man who had been sent to learm about the mystery of the coffin returned, CHAPTER XIX. SUDDEN AND STARTLING, THE announcement of his return drew people to the hotel immediately. Jackson Dunbarge and Hapwood McDonald were among the first, and these were followed by many otbers, It was found that the messenger had not re- turned alone. With him had come a woman—a woman of middle age, small of stature and leasant of face, but one who, to judge, might easily imposed upon, At sight of McDonald she ran toward him with band outstretched. ‘‘Mr, McDonald,” she cried, ‘‘ forgive mef Things have come to light at home, and we know we wronged you.” ‘ T can readily swear to that, Mrs. Pratley,” was the answer, as Hapwood took her hand. ‘* But, tell me, is it true that Myra married that: villain?” ‘* No, thank Heaven, it isnot true! There is some mistake. The rascal! We have just dis- covered some of his villainy. He deserves to be hanged, if ever man did, ad The door had opened, and the young womarR, of the coffin mystery stood before them, her face sad and pale, Her motber ran to her, caught her in her arms, and kissed her again and again, fairly crying for joy. However, she was ved rather coldly in return, ‘Tt seems impossible that you are alive,” the. motber cried, *‘ but it is true—it is true! And, thank Heaven, you escaped marrying that vil- Jain, even at so great a risk to yourself,” ‘‘Escaped marrying him!” the girl cried,. ‘* Am I not his wife, mother?” y ‘‘No more than lam, Myra.” ‘* Thank God!” All attention had been given to this. Now, however, Jackson Dunbarge, impatient. to get at the facts, said: ‘‘ Let us have the facts of the matter, madam, We are very curious to know how this mystery ars rei ae b th ’s sto ‘And su we bave the messenger's story first,” suggested McDonald, ‘‘ That will bring it about in the right order, I think, sir.” ‘‘ Very well, that is satisfactory. Tellus your story, James,” to the man who had been sent on. the errand. He was @ youn man, one who had been se- lected for his inte nce and address, , “Tt is soon told, sir,” said he, ‘I went there: and inquired for Mrs. Pratl , and was sbown to this woman’s bouse, ‘I asked for her daugh- ed and was told, in sorrow, that she was lady will tell with me, It bad’ just come Ou ,, 2 “a> ft _. ! =~ a com 4 7 yy beled wei. ae Eee a5 “~~ att ga: : : x. 4, i 46 » 5 ’ * - - 5 = . 1 @ 4 » uae J .* - buried. I heard the particulars, which the and she got pee! and ia! t that the ae ~~ = * 1s of