Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 217 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

>| ie % ‘rn - Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. of the eards, and picking it up between his teeth, Examination proved that the Jimtownite had won. Skip had picked up the ace of spades, sure enough, and at the first attempt. ‘‘Quss yer dorg!” Black Bill snarled, “It was only by chance he did it, you bet. Ken’t chuok no humbug down me.” “ Peraaps you are anxious to play again?” Gipsy Jack said, pocketing the result of his successful wager together with what he had invested. ‘“Yas, Iam. Ill bet ther last o’ my pile ther dorg gan’t do et a second time, ther first try, an’ you leave him blindfolded, just as he is now—a straight thousand on it!” ‘‘That fits me!” the Jimtownite responded, counting out the sum in greenbacks, ‘A thousand it is. Any other gents want to be accommedated with a thousand bet?” Ne ene, evidently; too many had lost on the canine to be tempted again. The monte man, bowever, had the “sand,” and put up his ‘‘ chips” to the extent of a thou- sand dollars—probably the last of his money. Then, seizing a new pack of cards, he ex- pertly threw them upside down upon the table. “ Are you sure there is an ace among them?” Gipsy Jack demanded, sternly. ‘I want no trickery in this matter, understand me!” “Let your dog answer!” Black Bill sneered. ‘Tf there’s an ace on the board, he’ll find et, according to your theory.”’ “So he will; and if there’s not an ace, you jose, the same.” Ther with a word to the dog, the animal ‘walked over and about the cards, and nosing three aside from the rest, selected the middle one ef the trio, and held it up between his teeth so all could see. It was the ace of bearts! The crowd uttered a shout of surprise, and Black Bill uttered a cry of rage, as he saw “Gipsy Jack pocket his last dollar. ‘¢Curses on ye!” he cried. ‘What ye win in money, you shall lose in dog—mark my werd for it!” ' And before any one wasaware of his inten- tion he had drawn a pistol, and fired at Skip. The poor animal gave vent toa piteous how], and bounded from the table to the floor, where it gave a few struggles and stretched out as if dead. Gipsy Jack stood for a moment as if struck dumb with astonishment and sorrow; then turning, he leaped upon Black Bill with a fierce cry, and they began a rough-and-tumble strug- gle for the mastery. Several miners sprung forward to take the ruffian’s part, but as many more intercepted them, and in less than five minutes two parties were plainly formed—one for Gipsy Jack and one for Black Bill, and soon all wero fighting vigorously for the men who had their sympathy. | Be it said in his favor, Gipsy Jack had the best men on his side, Black Bill’s party, however, was composed of the ruffian element, and was numerically larger than the other side, and as they fought without regard for lifo, it seemed evident that they must eventually win. Oraek! bang! clash! scream! were sounds that transformed the interior of the saloon into a literal pandemonium, Men were shot down ruthlessly, and knives flashed; shouts of agony, oaths aud curses were uttered on every hand; it was a terrible hand- to Kkand conflict between those knights of the border, v ich promised not to cease until the last man was ‘cleaned out,’ The struggle between Gipsy Jack and Black Bill was a stern, unyielding one, both men being possessed of great determination—for the man who lost would be a fit subject for the ‘underte er. Th 7 were pretty nearly matched in point sof strength, too, though the gambler-ruffian ‘was taller and heavier than his plucky oppo- nent from Jimtown. They clinched in a vise- like hug, and waltzed about without doing each other any great amount of damage. ‘‘ Curse ye, let me go!” Black Bill cried, as Gipsy Jack froze to him like a postage stamp. ‘‘Kf ye don’t, I’ll stamp ye out of existence!” ‘Will ye!” the Jimtownite retorted, work- ing gradually toward the front door. “If you get an advantage, it will not be my fault. You killed my dog, and your life shall answer for it!” ‘Tt will, hey?” the ruffian yelled, lunging forward and bumping his head severely against that of his antagonist. ‘‘Dog my cats ef I don’t stave in yer skull!’ ‘Oho! come on! Perhaps two can play at that game,’ Jack responded, returning the bump. And then began the novel battle of heads, in dead earnest, to see which could stand the most, Bump! whack! bump! went the foreheads of the two men—crack! clash! was the accompani- ment kept by the other fighters. Steadily Jack worked his man back toward the door, and finally they were out in the open air. Here matters were no better. It appeared as if the whole town were un- dergoing a siege, for men were fighting along the whole length of the street, using revolvers, knives and any weapon they could get hold of. Matters were thesame on the flats asin the town, and it seemed as if Gipsy Jack’s turn against the gambler, had been instrumental in setting the whole town into a general state of warfare. Which went to show that there were two parties who wished to run the town, anda chance had been improved to test the matter | of mastery. Outside the tavern Jack and his opponent had much more room to exercise in, yet could not trip or throw each other, and had nothing left to resort to but the battering-ram assault of their heads, This they continued with much regularity, pausing occasionally, as it were, to compare notes, ‘‘How do you like it?” Jack demanded, grimly. ‘‘ Like to play at ten-pins?” ‘‘Cuss ye!” the gambler growled gaspingly. ‘¢ What kind of a head have you got?” ‘‘A cocoanut head, of course. Why it’s cast-iron, and you can’t bus’t et, if you try.” “Then I want to cry quits. DPve got enough!” “What, so soon? But you must get more’n enough. I think a little more butting will wake you up!” And that the Jimtown delegate proceeded to administer, with renewed energy. But Black Bill had had enough and by a des- perate effort he broke loose and dashed away down the street, at the top of his speed. At the same instant the dog, Skip, sprung forth from the tavern, and off in hot pursuit of the ruffian. He had not been killed, as Jack had supposed, but stunned by the bullet, which had just grazed the top of his head, and had recovered and got out of the saloon just in time to see Black Bill make a run for it. Comprehending the situation with his natu- ral sagacity, he uttered a bark of victory, and dashed after the gambler, and soon both dog and man had vanished from view, by dodging around a corner. Then Gipsy Jack turned and gazed about him, undecided what to do. The whole neighborhood was in a riot— which party should he side with? was his thought ju-t as there was a sudden whiz; then alasso settled over his head and tightened around his waist, and he was landed on the ground. He made a quick attempt to spring’ to his feet, but before he could do so three masked men had leaped upon him, and were not long in binding him hand and foot. He was then handed to another man, on horseback, who had ridden suddenly up to the spot, and the next thing he knew Gipsy Jack was being borne away across a corner of the flats, toward the distant rugged mountains, His lone captor was a powerfully built man, with gray hair and beard, which was met by a black mask, through which a pair of evil eyes occasionally peered into the face of the pris- oner. His attire was buckskin from boots te chin, dyed jetty black, with a belt full of revolvers at his waist, and a plumed slouch hat upon his head, Seeing that he made no motion to speak, Jack opened the conversation. ‘‘ Where are you taking me?’ he demanded, “To Crow’s Nest,” was the reply. ‘Where is Crow’s Nest?’ ‘‘In the mountains.” ‘What kind of a place is it?” * Bully place.” ** Who runs it?” * Captain Crack-Shot.” ‘‘Humph! “The female footpad, eh? Why are you taking me there?’ ‘* Because she ordered it.” ‘Well, that’s cheeky. Know what her ladyship proposes to do with me?’ ‘“Shoot you, I reckon,” “What for?’ ** Dunno.” ‘* Well, it’s queer. I hope, however, youare mistaken, How old is this noble road-agent?” ‘‘ Nineteen or so.” ‘‘Got any relatives around here?” ** Reckon not.” ** Good-looking?””’ ‘* Wait till ye see her.” “How long will that be?” ‘‘ Couple of hours.” ‘Hurry up, then! fortably, you know,” Half an hour found them entering a wild, craggy, mountainous district, ascending a rug» ged path toward the top of a wooded, bowlder- ous mountain. For a couple of hours they continued the I’m not riding very eom- monotonous ascent—then they emerged upona! natural level shelf upon the side of the moun- tain, from whence a good view could be had ef the distant town of Durango. As they rode upon the plateau a gayly-at- tired girl in men’s clothing emerged from a niche in the face of the mountain, and this Gipsy Jack concluded must be Captain Crack- Shot, the girl road agent! CHAPTER IV. A SCOUNDREL UNMASKES, Ir was near midnight when the riot ceased in and about Durango, without declaring vie- tory for either party, although the ruffianly element had possession of the village, and the more peaceably disposed citizens had been driven down to the flats. Here they could do httle but wait for day- light, when they must either renew the attack, or give up the struggle and declare the ruffians their masters. Having possession of the business portion of the village, it might be surmised that they would not yield it without a bloody struggle. From the beginning of the fight almost, Old Somersault had been here, the:e and every- where, in the lead as asort of captain in behalf of the citizens’ party. But owing to the over- whelming odds of numbers in favor of the roughs, he could finally see no better plan than a general retreat to the flats for con-ultation and repairs, which move was made, according to his orders, A good many persons had been wounded, and some killed among the defenders, but the other party had had the same luca, if not more SO. A general camp, in body, was ordered by Old Somersault, near the center of the flats. Fires were built and pickets posted, the same precautions being observed by the old scout as if it was an ndiun campaign. Jobn Metcalf, the speculator, was amung the citizens’ party, but whether by choice or acci- | O}(O}O) Gcoim S (E (E€@)