Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 118 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

rints, and it appeared to me that there had en some one in the cave while I was asleep, at least.” Old Firefly nodded his head. “Yes! yes!” he muttered, shrugging his shoulders—‘“‘ yes! yes! my lad. Twixt you an’ me there’s a good many shite about ther caves thet ar’ mighty strange. An’ I opine you an’ I ar’ ther very condemued couple ter tackle ther case, an’ inwestigate tuer mystery. What do you say, now?” “Tm agreed. Anything honest, for money or adventure, suits me, a capital dot,” Jac replied. “Pil go in halves with ye in all the fortunes we find.” ** All right. I’m goin’ ter turn in fer ther night, an’ you can foller suit, when ye git ready,” and Old Firefly alias Revolver Jake rolled himself up in a blanket, near the fire, an his loud breathing soon proclaimed him to be asleep. Then Jack went out through the cavern entrance for a breath of pure air, for that within the rocky chamber was thick and damp. Outside the air was clear and sweet, for it was now in the latter part of October, and the cold weather was rapidly drawing on in the north- ern regions. The night was a beautiful one; the sky was cloudless, and the moon and stars shone with dazzling brightness, casting a whitish illumina- tion over the Hi Far below lay the little mining metropolis of Deadwood, basking in the moon’s dreamy radi- ance; the shops, saloons and dance-houses were still open and strains of music and revelry came floating up the mountain side. People were swarming in the long main street, and hurryin to and fro, their shouts and halloas faintly audi- ble to the young hermit. ‘‘. wonder why it is that I feel nervous, to-night?” he thought, pacing to and fro along & little ledge that ran in front of the cavern entrance. ‘Something warns me of impendin danger, though I know not what. Perhaps am sheltering a foe, in there, but he seems all right, and I cannot quite believe that he is a fraud. Ah! what was that?” A footstep—a stealthy one, too. Stepping back into a shadow, he gazed keen! around him, and soon made out a figure descend- ing the mountain side, a short distance below where he was standing—the trim figure of a yonne maiden, clad in a picturesque costume of ringed, tanned buckskin, consisting of a short skirt and waist, leggings and mantle, and a jaunty pink silk Cee Her face he could not see, but he involuntarily ronounced it a handsome one, from the fact hat her form was graceful. *“*T wonder who it is, and what she was doing up here,” he muttered, as he gazed after her. ‘* Perhaps she is the same one that visited me in my dreams, He returned to the cavern and threw himself upon the straw mattress that composed his bed. Old Firefly was snoring loudly, and feeling at ease so far as he was concerned, Jack soon drop- ped off into a sound, refreshing sleep. When he awoke, it was with a slight start. Somebody was mo about the cavern, in a cautious manner, and that somebody he soon made out to be Old Firefly. § perfectly quiet, Jack watched him narrowly, with a great anxiety to know what MSthe ute ped with a lighted e old man was equip with a torch, and appeared to be aver in every part, using the greatest care in his movements, as if afraid of arousing a sound. First one crevice in the rocky wall he peered into, and then another, as if in search of some- thing, which he did not appear to find, as he Spey onally gave vent to a grunt of dissatis- action. Jack had but little doubt now, but what the old chap had in some way learned of his moneyed possession, and was making a search for the place where he had hidden it. | At first he was tempted to shoot him on: the spot, but on further thought he resolved to let him go ahead, and if he found it, it would be time enough, then. In the meantime he would watch him, and hold himself in readiness for the omer geey. For more than an hour did Old Firefly con- tinue the search, and then, ap naga. | disgusted he thrust the torch into ‘the Bra and prepared to again roll himself in his blanket. “What was you hunting for, so long?’ Jack asked, rising up on his elbow, The old man started visibly, and turned square around as he heard the voice, “You awake?” he grunted. “ Why didn’t you get up and help me?” = , - Ee exploring the cavern. Jack Hoyle i ———. +- ---— ‘Why didn’t you tell me to?” Jack replied, witha yawn. ‘'Il was wondering what in the deuce you were up to.” ‘* Hunting for the durned Injun gal, of course. Pll bet five dollars she won’t escape next time, if | get a bead drawn on her.” ‘** You had a dream, eh?’ ‘‘Nary atime. Isee’d the critter wi’ my eyes socked clean open.” ‘* What did she look like?” ‘* You described her karect. She luked like an Indian princess, an’ I reckon thar wern’t no doubt about her bein’ cl’ar Injun.” ‘Did she come in here?” ‘Yas—she waltzed right in wi’out sayin’ nothin’ ter nobody, an’ when I made a lunge at her, she slid off like chain-lightnin’ on a greased ‘Strange! I should like to capture this noc- t,” Jack said, as he turned over in his blanket, and made pretense of going to sleep. But no sleep visited his eyes again that night for his suspicions were aroused against the old man, whoever he might be. Certain was Jack that he had not been searching for any Indiaa girl, at all, but instead, he had been searchin or the secreted money, and resolved was Jac to watch him sharply, and shoot him if he found him guilty of the suspected wigs Se On the following morning Old Firefly was grim and uncommunicative, and after the morning meal announced his intention of going for a hunt. Jack concluded not to accompany him, but resolved to remain and thoroughly explore the many intricate passages leading off from the main cavern into the bowels of the mountains. After Old Firefly had gone, he armed himself, and went out upon the mountain for pine fag- gots for torches. Securing several suitable for the purpose he returned to the cavern, and dur- ing the day explored several of the passages, with the result of finding that they all ended abruptly in the bowels of the mountains. When night drew on, finding that Old Firefly had not returned, he resolved to descend the mountain to Deadwood to make a few pur- c S. So he clambered down to the gulch bottom and mingled with the restless crowd that surged in the long main street. During the evening he cropped into the Mon- itor gambling saloon, to watch the games, for although he had not played a geome in the last three years, he was fond of watching others who did play. The saloon was moderately filled with all classes and ages of men, from the bloated capi- talist, to the veriest ruffian and bullwhacker and from the beardless boy to the white-haired septuagenarian—men of rough and men of pol- ished appearance—men who were scrupulous and men who were unscrupulous—a strange heterogeneous mass to be seen in no other town on the face of the globe. Men were here who gambled as a profession, and fleeced right and left, while others were there who only played occasionally, and then paved & ‘‘square” game—it may be said, to heir cost, for they eerely, if ever, won. On entering the room, Jack’s attention was at- tracted to an old white-haired man, who walked upon crutches, and whose beard reached to his eyes. He was well-dressed, and appeared to be a person who had spent a life of ease, for what of his face could be seen was not wrinkled, but was smooth and fresh. He was accompanied by another man, with an equal amount of beard of a brown hue, and his dress also indicated a man of wealth. Both men drank often at the bar, and were the observed of all observers. Unknown to Jack these men both eyed him narrowly, and exchanged words in a low tone copoeening him. ile Jack was watching a game of poker, vhe old man hobbled in front of him, and also ap to be an interested watcher. n the meantime Jack was unaware that in a momen crowd in his rear, the man with the brown whiskers passed behind him, and slipped something into the capacious pockets of the blouse he wore. Perhaps nobody in the room noticed the act, nor would it have been known had it not been a link in a plot, of which Jack Hoyle was to be the old ddenly appeared e old man su y ap to cited, and thrusting his hand tow pocket, he cried: ‘“‘T’ll bet a thousand dollars—” Then suddenly he looked surprised, and began to look upon the floor. w ex- his hip — meee 9 ‘‘ By Heaven! I have been robbed!” he ejacu- lated, Mong pee have been robbed of fifty dol. lars which | had in my hip pocket!” Instant excitement ensued, and according to the rules of the establishment the doors were promptly closed and locked, to prevent the cul- prit from escaping. ‘“‘T had the money there but a moment ago!” the old man declared, ‘and some person imme- diately in my rear must have stolen it.” ‘* Here’s a chap that stood suspiciously close to you,” the brown-whiskered man said, pointing to Jack, ‘and if 1 mistake not he’s the same chap we saw arrested down in Cheyenne for ne c - pockets. It won’t be any harm to search. him, Sng Owe Gentlemen, will some of you assist me , And the speaker stepped forward toward Jack, a sinister gleam in his dark eyes. In that same second Jack recognized the man. | CHAPTER VIII. WOLVES SHOW THEIR FANGS. YES, recognized him, beneath all his bewhisk- - ered disguise, as Tom Tremaine. ‘Step back!” he cried, attempting to draw a revolver; but in this he was foiled, for a dozen pair of hands seized him, and held him as in the grip of a vise, and Tremaine made a hasty ex- amination of his kets. ‘I told you!” he exclaimed, a moment later, as he had held up two rolls of bills which he himself slipped into Jack’s blouse pockets. ‘‘ Here’s the money, just as the culprit stole | “You lie!” Jack cried, hotly. “TI did not. steal the money, nor did I put it in m y kets. Somebody has played me an infernal oe ick.” ‘* Ah! that won’t work, my friend,” the sheriff © of the town replied. OF ye warn’t caught with the stuff on ye, it would be o’ some use to talk, but as it is, | opine you’re in a fair way to stretch hemp!” ‘* Yes! yes! hang him, the rascal!” the old gray-beard cried, savagely. ‘‘ Hang him at once, and I'll pay the damage.” ‘So will 1,” Tom Tremaine declared, ra y. ‘*Make an example of the chap by instituting a first class lynch pic-nic.” ‘Sorry ter say we can’t obleege ye, gents,” the sheriff replied. ‘‘ Thet ain’t my style o’ doin’ bizness, ye see. The galoot’s got ter hev a trial, afore we can boost ’im.” “Phen, I rp ere every man in the room as witness that the pickpocket was caught with my money in his possession!” the man of the. gray beard cried. ‘‘Oh! there will be no trouble of ma a clear case of it,” Tom Tremaine declared, exult- ingly. ‘‘ Say, sheriff, when shall we have the: pleasure of witnessing his antics in the air?” ‘** When he is convicted,” the sheriff replied, tartly. ‘‘ The trial will take place to-morrow.” ‘‘ Bh? d’ye hear, you light-fingered monkey?” the younger man cried, dancing up to Jack, and shaking his fist close to his nose—‘‘do you understand that you’ve picked your last pocket?” ‘You have played your cards well, Tom Tre- maine!” Jack retorted, coolly, ‘‘ but you won’t win, nevertheless, Villainy may Sees ee for a time, but not always. ever I get loose, you shall have a chance to test the strength of my arm. ‘*But you won’t get loose, and uently I don’t stand in the least fear of you! Off with him, sheriff, to the jail.” The officer obeyed, by handcuffing Jack, and marching him out of the saloon. Down the main street they went, followed by a portion of the crowd who could not resist’ the temptation of escorting the prisoner to the jail. The sheriff, whose name was Mackin showed Jack to a strong cell, and removed the handcuffs from his wrists. ‘No use o’ your wearin’ cuffs when ye ain’t out in society,” he said, with a grim chuckle. ‘‘T reckon ye can’t aig out o’ ther coop.” ‘‘Nor shall I try,” Jack replied. “Boo here sheriff, give me your candid opinion in this matter. Can they hang a fellow on suspicion {* ‘Waal, I reckon they do, sometimes.’ ‘¢ And you think they will hang me on what evidence they have got?’ “T opine thet will be ther ultimatum result. Ye see, these Deadwoodites ain’t got no purtick- ler luv fer a pickpocket or a hoss-thief!” ‘‘ But I am not a pickpocket. An infernal trick has been played upon me by this man Tremaine, who is my enemy of old. It was he, no doubt, who slipped the money into my pocket, in order to secure my arrest, and thereby satisfy his ap- petite for revenge.’ ‘*Mebbe ye’re right, if so be you’re honest. EOMIEDOOKS (C co