Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 219 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

i ‘ vate 4 e ~— ——————————————————————————eVV——_— le it’s a snide game! That nimble-fingered jade has hocus pocused them keerds jist once too many !” It was Ten-strike Tom’s harsh voice; and while one great paw grabbed his “pile, * the other drew a revolver to enforce his claim. The first impulse of the Queen of the Green Cloth vas a start of amazement. But some- thing drew her gaze from the face of the ruf- fian, orutalized by liquor and inflamed by pas- sion, to that of the man who bad engrossed all her thoughts. Pe rhaps J it was an involunte ry, instinctive appeal to him to avenge this in suit. Joe Smedley so read it. He fil: med scarlet to ‘the very roots of his hair: into his eyes leaped the fires of sudden rage; and he gathered him- self as if to spring upon his own tool. Somehow he had never thought of this—stand- ing quietly by while she was “insulted ; and the suddenness of the shock made him for an in- stant lose sight of the fact that this was an es- sential part ‘of his plan. But second thought follow ed at once; and, with her eye upon him, his muscles relaxed; ‘his glance sunk to the floor; he turned as pale as death, and stood tr embling from head to foot. She saw it all, and—and—she felt no resent- ment ! But one there was whose fiery nature was stirred to its veriest depths. Although forewarned, even Ten-strike Tom was not prepared for the whirlwind assault that was made upon him, He heard a hoarse, rasping cry, and turned to see a veritable de- mon hurl himself across the intervening space like a bolt from a catapult. He had no time to use the pistol he had drawn. A grip of iron seized his wrist at the same time that bands of steel closed about his throat; and he was pressed backward upon the faro table. With movements like lightning, Iron Despard inioned his adversary’s ” pistol- ‘arm with his mee, and, drawing his bowie-knife with the hand thus liberated, raised it on high for the fatal plunge into the upturned breast of the aelpless ruffian, In this attitude he almost transcended human- ity—he looked like an avenging fate, His brows were as black as night; his eyes blazed luridly; his face, contrasted with its framework of black hair, was unear thly in its pallor; the rage depicted on it was the fury of a fiend! he effect on the miners was overwhelming. They shrunk away with a terror never be fore inspired by anything in human form. Only one intervened between Ten-strike Tom and swift death. The little Giant sprung forward and caught the descending arm, “Hold!” he shouted. “Gentlemen do not set- tle their difficulties in this w ay—not in this camp. Here every man bas a fair show.” fron Despard did not relax the gripe on Ten- strike Tom's throat, nor lift the knee that breant his pistol-arm helplessly against his reast, nor yet lower the hand that held the gleaming bowie suspended over his heart. He only turned his head, so as to glare over his shoulder into the face of the man who had dared to come between him and his revenge. Then between these two high-strung natures there was a silent battle of the eye, which the Queen of the Green Cloth watched with perfect outward composure, yet with an inward pertur- bation which a weakernature could never know. In the end Iron Despard asked in a low, hoarse voice: ** Who are pale “Joe Smedley, captain of the Vigilantes of Hell Hole!” There was a significance in those words and in the undaunted directness with which the Little Giant looked into Iron Despar d’s eyes, for he was on his mettle, feeling, without looking at her,that the eyes of the Queen of the Green Cloth wero upon him. Words and looks said; ‘Strike, and we'll hang you higher than Haman!” Perhaps Iron Despard read them in this w ay. It is no disparagement of a man’s courage that he listens to the yoice of common s: mse and avoids needlessly rushing upon the brutal death which a mob inflicts, As well reprobate him for not standing with foolbardy obstinacy in the line of a buffalo stampede, ** It’s rather early in the day to come into col- lision with the authorities of this camp,” said the gambler prince. * ButI reckon you don’t deny the right of any man to satisfaction. I'll give this hound the use of any weapon he chooses: but one of us must die!” And instantly releasing Ten-strike Tom, he stood awaiting his election. According to the laws and customs of the — Despard, the Duelist. mines, no exception could be taken to this pro- posal} ‘and, as we know, it was in a line with the Little Giant’s purpose; but, truth to tell, while he gasped for breath and swallowed spasmodi- cally to relieve the pain in his throat, which felt as if it had been crushed, the ex- pugilist looked as if he had no great stomach for the now un- avoidable fight. But, as a savage walks unflinchingly to the stake, so in the breast of a man who has spent all his life in an atmosphere of violence, where cowardice is the last stigma that can attach to manhood, springs up reckless defiance of fate; and in this spirit Ten-st trike Tom said; ‘* Vil take pistols in mine.’ ‘* Gentlemen, let us adjourn to a more suitable place than this,” proposed the Little Giant, in tacit deference to the Queen of the Green C ‘loth. But Tron Despard objected peremptorily. ‘* No!” he said, in a deep, ringing voice, that bespoke a will with which no man present cared to ( cope. ‘* Across this table was the insult hurled across this table shall it be washed out in blood! Tale which end you choose; I will take the other; and this gentleman, or any other you may pre fer, will cive the signal. us “Tis all one to me. As well hyar as any where,” said Ten-strike Tom, assuming that bravado which is known as “a. stiff u yper Jip.” While the duelists were taking then places, the Little Giant glanced at the Queen of the Green Cloth. Shesat w ith her eyes on the pack of cards before her, her hand resting on the top one, as if only waiting the termination of this little affair with pistols, in which she had no in- terest, tv resume her dealing. ” My God!” thought the captain of Vigilantes, can she sit thus unmoved, and yet love him ?” Noe upon the contestants, but upon her face, were his eyes fixed, when, standing opposite to her, with only the ‘width of the table tween, he said: ‘*Gentlemen, are you ready?” There was a slight tremor of the lips, and per- haps a suspension of the breath—that was all. f ‘rom his end of the table, Iron Despard fixed his burning eyes upon his adversar y, with a concentr ation of. deadly purpose that completely unmanned the burly ex- pugilist. ‘*P’m dished!” was Tom’s conviction; and a leaden weight bore upon his arm, and a strange ringing sounded in his ears, through which he heard Joe Smedley’s rhythmic sional, Like the tolling of doom it broke upon the awful stillness: ‘*One!—two /— THREE!” Crack !—Crack ! There were two distinct pistol reports, one erlaps a quarter of a second after the other. hen came a heavy jarring fall. The Queen of the Green Cloth knew at which end of the table it was. She cast one quick glance in the other direction, where lron Des- pard stood erect and as firm as ar ock, smiling upon her through the white smoke from his pis- tol. There was a quick, tremulous Figen = through her parted lips. Then she said, ere yet the smoke of battle was cleared: ‘“‘Gentlemen, make up your game!” But there came an unexpected interruption. Into the saloon staggered a man, breathless, be- draggled with mud, “torn by briers, and bruised and bleeding from Violent contact with jagged rocks, Then rose the cry: “Jim Kane! Jim Kane!” CHAPTER. V. THE VAMPIRE. But a second glance showed that the intruder was not Jim Kane, but Foxy, who was instantly surrounded by an excited ‘crowd, the Little Giant crying: ‘“ Good Lord, man! is it you? What is the matter? Where have you been? What has happened to you? Why, you’ re all broke up!” ‘An’ faith, yer honor,” replied Foxy, lugubri- ously, ‘‘it’s the Lord’s blessed mercy ‘that DP m alive this day, at.all, at all, to be tellin’ yez! I wish I could say that same o’ Jimmy Kane, saints ’ase ’um, poor divil! And if Tidy Tip dowt wake up this blessed morning and find ‘umsilf dead intirely, it’s no fault o’ thim mur- dtherin’ divils, bad luck till their h’athen shapes!” And Foxy told his strange adventure to an au- dience whose open- -mouthed credulity would have inspired a poet to eloquence. ‘*Be me sowl!” he declared, ‘‘ they have no eyes and no stomachs an them: and it’s the rat- tling o’ their bones youw’re hearing whin they walk, and the whistling o’ the wind through their "ribs, so it is!” & That story was enough to keep Foxy in whis- ky and tobacco for the rest of bis life—the first installment of whieh he took on the spot! But if Hell Hole didn’t get the worth of its money, it was because of the natural limitations of the lrishman’s fancy In vain did the Little Giant urge his theory of masked outlaws. Before superstition, doubly intrenched in ignorance, even his power failed. The logic of Hell Hole ran: *Palk’s all right in its place; but seein’s be. lievin’! The Cap’s as square as a die, a white man cl’ar down to his toe-nails—we hain’t dis- countin’ that!—an’ the joker an’ both bowers in anything that consarns this hyar airth. But spooks!—waal, seein’s believin’!” Not until. broad daylight could they be induced to go out for Jim Kane’s body; and while they gaz zed upon the hanging horror the mad preacher’s voice struck an icy chill to every heart :— ‘““Itis the wrath of an outraged God fallen upon the wickedness of this abandoned place Was he right? Did all Heli Hole rest under the curse? Who would be the next victim? ‘*Cut him down, boys,” ordered Joe Smedley, adding portentously -—“] reckon these old mountains will hear music before long!” In dead silence the men obeyed. The rock behind which Foxy had crouched was found, but no trace of Tidy Tip. A silent shake of the head showed the inter- pretation generally put upon this, ‘‘And now,” reflected the scheming captain of Vigilantes, ‘to turn all this to account—to play one move off against another. My dear Jespard, I think I see you at the end of a some- what crooked lane. “I’m @ fier you! Look out |” Walking a little in advance of the rest with his particular set—Bullwhacker Ben, Dan the Devil, Foxy, No-likee-Jobn, and the Kid—Joe Smedley said, in that guarded tone which sug- gests a clique of rascals:— ‘* Boys, whether or not you accept my ex- planation, that these are only men like our- selves, one thing is certain—thcy are striking at us! Notat the Vigilance Committee, but at our little crowd. Tip—and, depend upon it, they’ve got him !—makes the fifth. There are six of us left; and we're marked men! Now, shall we sit like a pack of shivering curs, each awaiting for his turn to be knocked over; or shall we strike back!” The reply came from a most unexpected uarter, in the muttering thunder of No-likee- ohn’s rumbling g gutturals: ‘* Ef they’re epooks, we’re elected, and nothin’ we kin do will make matters “any worse; ef they’re men, our only chance is to kick like thunder! so, fur one, I vote that we feed ’em on their own mutton.” ‘‘ Johnny, my son,” laughed the Kid, ‘‘ youre very economical of ¢hin- -music; but when you wag your jaw, solid chunks of wisdom drop therefrom ** Why, look here, fellers. When I was down in Canyon City I bad the thunderin’est streak of luck you ever saw. Icleaned out everything in that section of the country; and; Teavi Hank Sullivan’s shebang for the last, gave him a week’s notice to look out for me. The cuss got scart out, and went to Washikitwa, a squaw a hundred and fifty years old, fora charm to knock my luck. She pr escribed a lizard’s tongue fried in skupvk’s erease; and Hank paid Colorado Kate an even hundre d doliars to get me outside. of that comfortable little dose. ‘*A mighty fine article, Kate—A No, 1, and don’t you | forget it! When she let that red hair of hers down, until it fell about her like a vai} —a yard and a quarter long, if it was an inch! thar wasn’t a man in seven contiguous counties that wouldn’t swear it was the prettiest thing he ever saw in his life! ‘* Well, the little devil worked me for all I was worth. But when the thing was done, she lost her grip and got scart. Besides, while she was playing her little racket, she pot a trifle sweet on your humble servant. So, all of a sudden she flopped and blowed the whole busi- ness, “She took on woman fashion—told me ] might kill her, and all that sort of business. But you know how ghat is yourselves, boys. J reckon you've all been thar. So T needn’t tel} you that I pinched her pretty cheek and swore that one of her tears was worth more than ab the dust this side of Frisco. “Well, there was no back-down to me, s or no spell. I bucked that tiger, and he clawed me until I hadn’t a stiver to bless myself with, Hank raked the cbips bome, and invited me te cal) again, whenever J was around that way JOOKS (CONMUNCE