Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 219 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

4 “Boys, we hain’t never treated the psalm- singer very white. I reckon ef we could git him to chin a prayer or two fur us, it wouldn’t go bad. Ef you come down to bed-rock, this hyar isa mighty likely place fur the devil to drop 6n- to; and don’t ye furgit it!” The general sentiment on this proposition was left im doubt, since, before expression could be had, a panic was started, by a movement to ex- change the darkness of the street for the light and sense of greater security of the various saleons. In the Western idiom, the crowd ** stampeded for cover.” In a twinkling, a counter rush emptied the street and refilled the saloons, the laugh of some of the more reckless at the general scare lacking the boisterous ring of genuine Western hilarity. Liquor was swallowed in abundance, to re- lieve a certain watery feeling in the stomach; but the interrupted revelry was not resumed. The ‘‘tiger” found no pilgrim eager to ‘ clip his claws;” and the painted sirens who formed the attraction of that part of Billy Williams’s establishment called Terpsichorean Hall huddled together, mute and trembling, looking scared and miserable in their tawdry finery. In the midst of the all-absorbing discussion of the ‘‘ Death Riders,” the door of the saloon was thrown open, to give admittance to the Little Giant, whose coming seemed to send a wave of relieved feeling through the crowd. With a woman’s ready wit, Hally had per- suaded him that, his bowie baving slipped part- ly from its sheath, she had drawn it forth, fear- ing that he might roll over upon it and be hurt, or at least awakened. Knowing no reason to suspect her, and called away by the excitement in the street, he.gave the matter no further thought. ** Boys,” was his ringing salute, the moment he set foot within the saloon, ‘‘how many dare follow where I dare lead?” Fer the first time in the history of Hell Hole, Joe Smedley’s appeal failed to call forth an enthusiastic response. The men looked troubled, each waiting for some one else to speak, ‘* What! Not one?’ cried the Little Giant, frowning slightly as he looked about on the dewncast faces. “Ye see, Cap,” replied Bullwhacker Ben, a derous-limbed giant, with fists like sledge- ammers, and shaggy hair and bushy beard, and beetling eyebrows, and coarse black hair on arms and hands and bared breast—a veritable Esau. ‘‘ Yesee, Cap, ary human reckon we’re all ready to mount. But spooks /—waal, I allow I kin bolt, hide and taller, ary galoot in shoe- leather what dast to stand up and call mea coward !—but spooks!—Cap, I dun’t want none in mine, an’ that’s a fact!” **] foller suit!” said Dan the Devil, a bullet- headed little rascal, stocky in build, and witha prize-fizghter’s bair-cut, a black over-hanging mustache, and restless little bead-like black eyes, No-likee-Jobn, a man whose bent body, long arms, bony hands and wolfish face had earned him the reputation of having once eaten a Chinaman without salt, preserved a morose silence under his captain’s eye. “And you, Gordon?” asked the Little Giant turning toa youth who sat with his small and elegantly-booted feet cocked up on a_ table, quietly drawing at a cigarette, in apparent indifference to the excitement around him. Certainly not more than one-or-two-and- twenty, the pale, emaciated face and inflamed eyelids of ‘*The Kid” proclaimed one old in debauchery. His shapely white hands were light on the trigger and deft in the manipulation of the “ devil’s bible” aud in rolling the cigar- ettes which he smoked incessantly. For the rest, he wore the unexceptionable broadcloth amd the ruffled and embroidered shirt-bosom and flashing diamond stud of the dandy sport. ‘“‘I have had a warning,” he replied, with lamguid nonchalance. “If I go with you, I shal probably never return alive.” “Then you are afraid to go?” BWnrutiied by the covert taunt, the Kid turned his slow eyes upon the captain’s face through the thin spirals of cigarette smoke, and replied, ceelly: “I was never backed down by anything on top of the earth, or under it.” ‘I bsg your pardon, Gordon, I might have known you better,” was the ready acknowl- aoe of the Litile Giant. hen he harangued the crowd, trying to con- vines them that what they had seen was but a party of cleverly-masked men, seeking to strike terror by their weird appearance, But a story from Hoss Johnson overthrew his most forcible arguments in the minds of that ignorant and superstitious crowd, Despard, the Duelist. ““Y’ve heared o’ this thing before. Them thar was the Death Riders, a-takin’ of Jim Kane’s spook down below | Why, thar was the toughest cuss you ever see, down at Flatbush, what sold out to the old ’un; an’ when he chip- ed in, thar couldn’t a pine box be built what wd hold him—fact/ Thar was death-lights, an’ sich like, in his shanty fur six months; an’ the boys had to jest let him lay thar an’ rot!” And so, like a lot of children, these men scared each other with ghost stories, until after midnight, when they were suddenly electrified by the bursting open of the door, through which an excited voice shouted: ‘Boys, fur God’s sake, quick! Thar’s the devil to pay in Iron Despard’s place!” CHAPTER IV. THE FIRST DUEL. Tron D&ESPARD had purchased the original Hole-in-the-hill claim and erected against the face of the cliff the most pretentious structure of which the camp boasted. ** None o’ yer one-boss dives, with taller dips on wooden sconces,” had said Hoss Jobnson, ‘** but ginuine chandeliers, with slathers of glass fixin’s hangin’ down, all the colors of the rain- bow. And the Queen— But, thar! Pm done. Jest you wait!” So the excitement waxed, no one but the workmen having been admitted to even a peep at the splendors of the hall, and Hoss Johnson’s surmises resting on what he had seen at Nugget OW, ith the gathering of dusk, but expectant crowd had already assembled before the saloon, when an almond-eyed son of the flowery kingdom emerged from the door with a gaso- line lamp, such as is used by showmen and street venders, which he proceeded to hang from a pcle, to the delight of the miners, who swore that ‘‘the shebang was to be run in style, and that’s a fact!” 3ehind Sam Lee came a man already known to the readers of ‘‘Captain Mask, the Lady Road Agent” (No. 193, Hatr-Dime LipRary) but as bis personal appearance was the pivot on which turned his destiny in Hell Hole it may not be amiss to describe him as he stood before the men with whom he was soon to enter upon a struggle for life and death. He was tall and spare in build, with an erect, military bearing, and, indeed, a semi-military dress, for a long navy-blue cloak fell from his well-squared shoulders; his head was covered with a felt hat, with cord and tassels, after the cavalry fashion; and he wore spurs, as if al- ways ready for the saddle. But the most striking feature was the con- trast between his jet-black hair and his pale face, in which his piercing black eyes bummed like living coals. His brows met, and the ef- fect of his long, straight nose was intensified by a drooping mustache. ‘*Gentlemen,” he said, throwing wide the door, ‘‘I welcome you to the Palace Saloon. May good luck attend eveyone who crosses its threshold.” ‘“ That’s the music!” shouteda brawny miner. ‘* Three cheers for Iron Despard!” While the air rung with their lusty salute, the crowd poured into the saloon. They found the chandelier Hoss Johnson had predicted, and a bar that wasa marvel. But in an adjoining room was the crowning attraction. There, as if enthroned, sat the Queen of the Green’ Cloth, attended on either hand by her croupiers,. ‘* Welcome, gentleman!” she said, with an ‘* Make up engaging sniile that won all hearts. your game.” And instantly the cashier was besieged for chips. Who could grumble at the fate awarded by such fair hands? ‘Cleaned out?’ shouted one, before the even- ing was far advanced. ‘‘ But great Golconda! it’s worth it!” The advent of the Death Riders had been a damper on the opening night; but the fascina- tions of the Queen of tie Green Cloth had proved sufficient to win the miners back to her shrine, With slightly contracted eyes, as was his habit wren well content, Iron Despard stood a little apart, and saw the golden tice setting to- ward his coffers. ‘*A littie longer,” be muttered, ‘‘then the grand transformation scene!” Ahb!had he known the transformation scene that fate held in store! Not toat cherished in his heart. where he pictured his wife amid far different scenes, a queen, as now, but ever a far worthier domain. But suddenly the fairy towers and battle- ments of his air castle were shattered, like the bursting of a bubble. Let ussee how. Failing to secure men to go in search of Jim Kane, the Little Giant left Bill Willlams’s sa- loon, to meet, almost on its threshold an ex-pu- gilist of no mean prowess, who rejoiced in the name of Ten-strike Tom. ‘*Tom,” was his abrupt salutation, ‘“ what is your life worth to you?” ‘*What’s that, Cap?’ was the astonished re- ly. ma What will you take to risk your life im a fair fight?” ** With shootin’-irons?”’ ** Exactly.” ** Injun-fastion, ur—” ‘‘ In a square duel,” “Who with?” “This new man—Iron Dispard.,’” ‘*Good God!” Ten-strike Tom was profoundly impressed with the task set him. ‘*Look a-hyar, Cap,” he said in an altered tone, “‘be’s a bad man to bandle, by all ac- counts. Can’t we cook up somethin’ that'll make it Committee biz? But single-handed! Thunder an’ lightnin’!” ‘No; that won’t do,” replied the captain of Vigilantes. ‘‘It’s got tobe man to man, I'd do it myself, but if my hand appeared in it, even if | rubbed him out, I would lose all that I am trying to gain. Next to myself, I thought I would give you the first chance—” ‘Much obleeged, Cap, bein’s as how he’s a dead shot—so Hoss Johnson says, and I reekon he knows.” ‘Very well, If you are afraid—” ** Hold on, Cap! Whar’s the man that said I was afraid? ‘ What’s your figure, then?’ **'What kin you stand? Whatis it worth to you ? Always rememberio’ that if he scoops me in, I don’t get a cent! Thunder-and light- nin’! ra If he drops you, [ guarantee a first-elass plant— ‘* That’s somethin’, even to a dead man, I sup- pose!” ‘‘If you strike him home, Ill give you a thousand dollars down.” “Eh? A what?” And Ten-strike Tom cocked his head on one side in grotesque affectation of doubting .the evidence of his ears. ‘‘ A thousand dollars in hard money,” repeat- ed the Little Giant. ‘* Pult er thar!” was the hearty acceptance of the ex-pugilist, and his horny palm seemed to swallow up the slighter hand of the captain of the Vigilantes, Then they put their heads together over the details of a plot the end of which they could not foresee, In her place sat the Queen of the Green Cloth, so, haughtily self-possessed that she seemed of a sphere entirely apart from and above the rude men about her; yet, with a covert waichfulness, she saw every one who entered the door. She was waiting! waiting! until at last that for which she waited came ! The Little Giant sauntered in, and so potent was his sway, that the men of Hell Hole showed their deference even in the heat of the game on which their money was staked. The woman saw this instinctive homage, and through her frame crept a subtle sense of plea- sure. She hated herself for it, but was, never- theless, powerless to »nrevent it, or to deceive herself as to its cause, Outwardly she betrayed no sign that she had seen this man. Indeed, after that first glance, in which his searching eye had set something within her to vibrating like a harp-string, she did not again look at him, but continued to draw the cards from the box and place them to the right and left with mechanical precision, forgetting everything but him; for that g!ance had told ber again the story that she had the day before interrupted on his lips—a simple tale:— ‘“T love you!” And it awoke the old dreams and the old ecstasy; and the present fell away. For what woman ever outlives her first passionate love? — that lesson so easily learned, so Lard to un- learn. Like incense, a tranquilizing influence settled down upon her spirit—a sweet satisfaction and content. Then, out of that reverie came a rude awakeuing. ‘Hold on, hyar! That don’t take m money! I’ve been watchin’ this hyar thing, and I sw’ar | OOO) (E cS com i i) i- (clo)