Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 217 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. 5 dent it is hard to tell. He claimed to be out a great deal of money by the riot, as he owned an interest in several business establishments, and bad several thousand dollars locked up in his office. ‘**| propose that a party of you men accom- pany me back and help me secure the money, at least,” he said. ‘‘ We can easily creep back, under the cover of darkness, and secure the money.” ‘“‘ if the captain says so, all right,’ one of the miners suggested—‘“ otherwise, not a man shall leave camp, ef I can stop him.” ‘‘IT was not aware that we are subject to the orders of a captain,” Metcalf sneered. ‘‘But we are, though,” the miner replied, whose name was Tiger. ‘‘We’re in ther midst of a consarned difficul- ty, an’ we want some one ter Jead us. I pur- pose thet Old Somersault knows how ter do ther matter up brown, an’ we’d better let him take ther lead, an’ we go accordin’ ter his in- structions. Eh, boys, what d’ye say?” ‘Hurrah! Old Somersault, forever!” shout- ed the crowd. ‘* Thankee, gents,” the scout said. ‘It does me proud ter represent ye, an’ ef my old men- agerie ar’ wuth a cent, ye kin bet yer pile this byer old polar b’ar wull do his best. An’ ef ’'m ter be boss, I'll begin ther ring performan- ance by givin’ afew orders. Let no man leave camp, ’cept I say so, under penalty o’ gittin’ his skull blowed. Let no man go over ter ther t’other side, under penalty o’ death. Let no man try ter run this hyar concert privilege, without my permission, or hev nothin’ ter say in ther way o’ bossin’.” ‘‘But I demand a guard of men to accom- pany me to my office, to rescue the money I have there,’ John Metcalf protested, important- ly. **Can’t help what ye demand,” Old Somer- sault said, ‘* You’re no better’n ther rest o’ ther boys, an’ et won’t do no good fer ye ter be obstreperous. I forbid any man leavin’ camp tilll know et’s safe—an’ as fer yer money, et ain’t no better’n any other folks’.”’ Metcalf didn’t appear to assent to this view, and moved about growling protests against the scout’s arbitrary rules, and endeavoring to en- list the sympathies of some of the men, on his side, But as he was no general favorite, he had no success, and had to content himself with his own opinion, About an hour after midnight Old Somer- sault gave orders for everything to be kept quiet in the camp, and left on a tour of recon- noisance about the settlement. When he returned, he reported the town still in an uproar from the fact that the ruffi- ans had seized upon the liquors in the saloons, and were having a good drunk and occasional fights, among themselves. ’ They had, however thrown out a number of pickets, to prevent a surprise, and a third of their number patrolled the main street, pre- pared to repel any attack, while their com- panions were enjoying the delights of Bacchus. Shortly after Somersault’s return to camp, a picket came in, and reported a single horse- man outside the lines, whe claimed to be a stranger, and wished to enter the camp. ‘Show him in,’’ the old scout ordered. The horseman soon came riding into camp, and drew rein in front of the principal fire, around which the majority of the defenders were clustered. He was a well-dressed person of some fifty- five or sixty years of age, and evidently a man above the common herd. He wore a long iron-gray beard, and a stylish Derby hat; his face was large, well cast and noble in expres- sion; his eyes and hair were of a dark brown color. A large diamond pin shone upon his shirt front. ‘“*Ts the sheriff or principal officer of this dis- trict to be found about here?” he inquired, as he reined in his horse. “Well, I reckon we never had a sheriff yet,” Old Somersault replied, ‘‘ but, as I’ve been chosen ter represent this hyar division o’ ther townspeople, I presume ye might term me an officer. Up in town, I allow, Arizona Mike calkylates he’s boss o’ ther roost. Ye see, we're split up now, en’ stan’ as two belligerant parties, an’ one or t’other of us intends ter run the shebang, ultimately. At present the roughs hev got the possession of the coops, but we don’t opine they’re goin’ ter bev et fer any length o’ time.” ‘Ah! then there is but little hope of my get- ting assistance, I judge,” the stranger replied. ‘“'What assistance d’ye want?’ Somersault asked. ‘* Help from honest men to recover my lost child, sir,” was the reply. ‘‘I will introduce myself to you as the Duke of Leigh, of Sussex, England. In company with my daughter, Lady Myra, I have been traveling through Western America for pleasure, and partly in the interests of English railway investers. This afternoon, while myself and daughter, with our attendant, were riding toward this place, we were set upon in the mountains by a band of brigands, our attendant killed, myself robbed, and my daughter carried off. I was then set at liberty, and told that when I paid over the sum of five thousand dollars my daughter would be returned to me,” ‘* Well, I allow ye refused?’ Somersault said, with a chuckle, ** Most assuredly I did. The demand is out- rageous, and Ido not propose to yield to it,” the duke replied. ‘*Then, I dare say, you'll not be very likely ter see yer progeny ag’in, very soon,” Somer- sault declared. ‘The gal, Crack-Shot, does bizness on ther dead certain plan, an’ thar’s them as say she never fails. Ef she’s got yer gal, about ther likeliest thing you kin do is fork over ther cash, as she’s firmly planted in the mountings, an’ ye might as well try ter trap ther American eagle as her,” ‘But I will call upon the government for aid.” ‘* Waal, thet might do, but et’s hard stirrin’ up these Uncle Samites, bet yer boots! They don’t enthuse wuth a cent, when they’re out arter road-agents, an’ ten ter one ye’d hev ter slip a heap o’ hundred-dollar Williams inter their hands afore they’d wake ter any interest in yer case at all.” ; “My Heaven! try, then?’ ‘* Dead Joads of et, stranger, but et ain’t gin- nerally observed up in this country. Home- made laws is ther thing, hyarabouts—every man fer hisself, and ther Old Boy fer’em all. Ef Crack-Shot sez money, or no gal, ye kin calculate et’s gospel, an’ we ken’t hinder et, ’ca’se I opine ther boys hev all hed a deal wi’ her, one way an’ another, an’ got the worst of it; hence, they consider et safe ter fight shy of her ladyship.” The duke slid from his saddle, with an ex- clamation of disappointment. ‘Tf it is as you say, I may as well stop here, for the present, with your permission, until I can find a way of rescuing her.” ‘‘Purty good plan, an’ you're welcomes, 80 long’s you behava yourself,” the old scout as- sented. It was rather an odd invitation, per- haps, but it always was his rule never te make much of any one until he had made a study of them, The duke accordingly rolled himself in a blanket and lay down a short distance from the fire, and a little in the rear of the other campers, apparently not over-anxious to mix with them, Toward the latter part of the night the camp became silent, from the fact that all were evi- dently wrapt in slumber. It was about this time that the speculator, John Metcalf, arose from his position among the sleepers and stole softly toward the reclin- ing-place of the duke, who was reposing more serenely than one would have supposed him capable of doing, considering his recent loss, Stooping beside him, Metcalf shook him gently by the arm. Is there no law in this coun- With a start, the duke opened his eyes and attempted to rise, but the speculator held him, _ back, “Sh! Not a loud word, for your life,” he warned. ‘You are in deadly peril, although you may not know it. Do you recegnize me?” ‘‘ No,” the nobleman replied. ‘‘Humph! Your memory must be mighty forgetful,” the other growled, evidently not pleased. ‘ Don’t you remember your eonfiden- tial clerk, Metcalf, whom you made it warm for a dozen years ago, because he kad not the audacity to steal a few of your many dollars?” The duke started, “Ab! true enough. I see the resemblance now. What are you ding here, sir?” ‘*Y’ve been getting rich, of late, and endeav- oring to heal up the wound you made in my affection for Lady Myra, by making it neces- sary for me to leave England.” ‘‘You are a scoundrel! Let me up?” ‘‘Of course I am a scoundrel,” Metealf re- plied, triumphantly, allowing the nobleman to rise. ‘* But not so bad a one as not to be will- ing to help an old and esteemed friend when I find him in trouble.” ** Bah!” Leigh scoffed. should expect from you.” ‘‘ Nevertheless, you do me great injustice,” Metcalf replied. ‘Just step this way out of earshot, and we will compare notes.” The Englishman did follow the speculator, although evidently distrustful of him, Beyond the camp both halted, amd faced each o her. ‘Now proceed with whatever you bave to say !”’ the duke ordered. **T will doso,” Metcalf replied. ‘In the first, ‘Poor assistance | place, you are in a strange country, and in. trouble, How much money have yout” ‘‘None!” was the gloomy reply. brigands robbed me of what I had,” “Then you have no money to redeem your child?” | ‘* None, whatever.” ‘That is bad. If you do not pay ever the ransom in ten days, she will be sold to the In- dians!” ‘* Heavens! ** But I do. just over in Indian Territery, whe buys up female captives for his wigwam, and Crack- “The You don’t mean it.” Shot gets paid a good price for sueh as she. don’t see fit to hand over to her men.” ‘‘This is terrible. What can be done? It, would kill me to have my peerless child given, up to such a fate,” ‘*That is the part Iam coming te,” Metcalf” assumed. ‘“‘I can agree with you that it will be best to get possession of her atonee. This... you cannot do alone, and—” “‘T can secure your services by paying for- them,” the duke sneered, anticipating what . was coming. “ Exactly, by-gones, and look only into the future. I am the only man in Durango who bas money and. power enough to get the girl away from the brigands, Then, as a reward, I should want ta marry her. One of these days she will inherit & grand English property from her grand- J father, and who wouldn’t conside@ that at- tractive? In the mean time, after we are mar- ried, we'll content ourselves by touring. this. country, at my expense, which I am willing to. bear, for the sake of being the husband ofa. duchess, where formerly I was your lackey, Oh! I’m wide-awake, you see! Accept and all will be lovely—refuse, and I’ll guarantee you’l} never see the lovely Lady Myra againt” CHAPTER V. INTO THE JAWS OF DEASEL, Let us return to Gipsy Jack, and the girk road-agent, She was just of medium hight of wemen, and: possessed of the most perfectly graeeful figure Jack remembered ever to have seen, which... was displayed to advantage in a neat-fitting, cS JOO (EON MUCE There is an old Imdian naboh, | Iam willing to let by-gones be... com