Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 219 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

6 ‘breaking banks. I thought a minute, Then I stripped to the buff, and piled my whole outfit an gente’ furnishing goods on the board. Hank said he wasn’t in the habit of turning men naked into the street from his shebang. whispered to him that, if he didn’t want me to blow the - Snide spell business, he’d better turn the cards and stow his preaching. ‘** He wilted—the spell broke—my luck turned —I bu’sted him sky-high! To cap the climax, Colorado Kate stuck to me like a mother-in-law, until she passed in her checks the night Bob ~ Sloper’s crowd cleaned out the Fandango Hall. “So, gents, I say withgNo-likee-John, here:— When your’re in for it anyway—kick !” That was the kind of talk for that kind of men Instead of opposing their superstition, and thereby turning them into mules of obstinacy, it fell in with and directed it. If there was no help for it, they were ready to fight man or devil. ** Boys,” said the Little Giant, ‘‘ this thing ‘will enable us to fix a man who has no love for any of us, even if he isn’t one of these mysteri- ous slayers.” “Spot bim, Cap!” said Bullwhacker Ben, “Tony Murray.” “ What’s the matter wid him?’ asked Dan the Devil. But, instead of answering, the captain sud- denly uttered a low, warning :— “ R’s-s-st py It would have surprised Hell Hole to learn that its Vigilance Committee was run by a “ring” of scoundrels, with the popular captain ‘at their head; and that the approach of an out- sider suspended for a time the discussion of a plot by which this power was to be used for a erMRCEeD of private feud; yet such was the c Causing the body of the murdered man to be Seid on the ground before Billy Williams’s saloon, where the vengeful passions of the “rowd could feed on the ghastly spectacle, he ped upon a stump, the tree from which had ‘been felled for the purpose of forming this truly Western rostrum, and began a harangue, in the course of which he said:-- ** But if you refuse to accept this simple view of the case, let us admit, for the sake of argu- ment, that these are supernatural monsters. You have all heard of vam pires?” , “hat we have!” interrupted, with the bre: zy freedom of the Western plains and mointains, Hoss Johnson, whose fund of ghost etor.es, and marvels generally, seemed _ inex- beustible. ‘Thar was Everybody’s Charley, i wu at Silver Rifle. The whitest man you ~~. gee. He’d lend you his last dollar, and “. 4 with you if you ever offered to pay it “La Ke “ Charley-had just one fault. When he had £0. gloriously corned, he always thought that +is body was as big as his head had swelled to “. . So he never looked at the size of his con- *) 2), but straddled anything that offered. One day he went up to Taylor’s Bend, and ure he could put the hull infernal town in his “sr .eches pocket. The Bandites kicked; and “, arley tried to surround about a dozen of ’em i lump, when he hadn’t a backer within ten ale. Fur a few minutes thar was jest one sweet ‘ome! Fur Charley slung a bunch o’ fives that “ac make a man think he carried a bass-drum “9m his shoulders, every time he reached fur him. But that day he seen two heads whar thar %./n’t but one; and sometimes he struck at the “wrong head, ‘Waal, they downed him, and sot on him about seven deep. Charley swears that they ond mashed him thinner than a postage-stamp, v xen the load begun to lift, and he seen ’em a» in’ this way and that, as if a young tornader had broke loose among ’em. When he got on ais pins he found himself shoulder to shoul- de: with a side-partner; and a mighty good man he was too; fur the pair of ’em cleaned out the hull gang, and then jumped the town before the reserves was called in. Charley and the new man struck hands on ; and they made just the orneriest team you -ver see, Charley kicked the beam at a hun- jred_ and ninety, and never Sweat a hair. He 2culd talk you deaf, dumb and blind, and then soe the mark as fresh as a daisy and as rosy as 4 fall i gens He could sing a nightingale out of breath, and jig the legs off a hull minstrel ‘wrcupe, door-keeper and ticket-agent throwed 1. ed at Y * His pardner went about like a coffin on legs. 44s always looked hungry and chilly, like them ®via water teetotalers in the State, what goes “@round with a hymn-book under their arm and ee a ee en ee a a a ae a rr eas - Despard, the Duelist. * their stummiks all caved in. He didn’t drink, nor chew, nor use bad language. Nobody knowed whar he come from; and he kept his mouth shut. But he had a bad eye; and you’d better believe thar didn’t nobody go out o’ their way to rub up ag’in’ his shins. The boys called him the Undertaker, and let it go at that. ‘* Waal, gents, if you'll b’lieve me, from the day he runin double harness with the Under- taker, Everybody’s Charley began to lose flesh and git white-livered. And ashe got thin, his pardner got fat! Inside o’ six months, Charley was flat on his back, and the undertaker was the healthiest-lookin’ man in the camp. “Silver Rifile wasa mighty blue place, you bet. yer boots! I reckon the boys would ’a’ swore off their licker fur another six months, to see Charley and his pard change piaces back ag’in. But nobody dropped to the racket, un- til one night Saphead Sam was hangin’ out about three o’clock in the morning, and he seen the leetlest mite of a blue light in the winder of Charley’sshanty. He swore it wasn’t bigger’n a pin’s head. ‘Now, that softy was more knowledgable than the boys sot him down fur. So he slies up on tiptoe, and finds that a buffaler-skin is hung before the winder, so that anybody, not seein’ no light, would think that Charley and his pard was snorin’ in their bunks, like honest men. But thar was the least mite of a hole in that skin; and what d’ye think that softy seen through that hole?” : Hoss Johnson paused in his narrative, and looked about on the gaping crowd, to note the effect of his dramatic suspense. ** What in blazes did he see?’ demanded Bull- whacker Ben, while the rest remained agog. ‘* Waal, boys,” resumed the narrator, im- pressively, ‘“‘Saphead Sam is a liar, if he didn’t see that room lighted up with a bluish- white lignt, which, you all know as well as I do, is the color of death-lights and spook-lights generally. Thar jaid Everybody’s Charley on his back, breathin’ hard, like a drunken man, and on bis breast, crosslegged, sot the very devil himself—hoofs, horns and tail! He was fannin’ Charley with his wings—the shape of a bat’s, and six foot long, both of ’em—to keep him asleep while he sucked blood from his throat. “That’s the way vampires always does. The next mornin’, ef you had a spy-glass, you might find the leetlest might of a red speck on the man’s throat that had been sucked—but that’s all. Nobody that didn’t drop to the racket would ever suspicion what was the mat- ter with him. ‘* After he’d got his fill, the devil jumps down off o’ Charley’s breast, gives a whisk of his tail, and—hey, presto! he turns into the Under- taker, looking as fresh as if he’d jest had a square meal.” ** An’ by thunder, he had!” cried Bullwhacker i excitedly, while the crowd murmured as- sent, ‘* Waal,” pursued Hoss Johnson, ‘‘ the light goes out, and leaves everything as dark asa pocket. Then he softly hears Charley wake up, and ask bis pard fur a drink of water, fur the love o’ God. The Undertaker tumbles out of his. bunk, barks his shins on a stool or two, and at last lights a bit of candle. He gives Charley his drink, and asks him how he feels, in a die- away voice, as if it broke his heart to see his pard so nigh usedup. Charley told him that a lime-kiln was a fool to the way he felt, as if he hadu’t had adrop of anything to drink fura week, Ye see, the poor devil didn’t know that he hadn’t more’n about a whisky-glassful o’ blood in his hull body. Thet vampire had left him jest enough fur the first stake, so’s not to bu’st him entirely; an’ thar he was fillin’ up with water, until he could manufacture some more blood, fur that skunk to suck out of him in a week’s time! That’s the way vampires does. Once a week is their rule.” At this monstrous thought the men of Hell Hole swore roundly. ‘ ‘‘ Waal,” continued Hoss Johnson, Then he stopped abruptly, looking at the Little Giant, who still aed on the stump himself and his in- terrupted speech for the time forgotten in the absorbing interest of the vampire story. ‘¢ Beg your pardon, Cap; but I reckon you’ve got the floor. I didn’t look to makin’ this hyar yarn so long.” But the captain of Vigilantes was delighted witb the effect being wrought, as it was in a direct line with his purpose. ‘Go on! goon!” he said. ‘‘If I had known the story, I would have told it myself. Boys, just consider this a part of my speech, better than I could bave put it.” | | — RE a A a ee 2 oe ee ee EE ee ee ee ee ee Nn EEE o* **Go on! go on!” urged the crowd; and, thus indorsed, Hoss Johnson proceeded :— ‘“‘As [said before, that softy had an idee or two in his head, if it was cracked. He says no- thing to nobody, but goes and casts six silver bullets, loads up his shootin’-iron, lays fur Mr, Undertaker, and empties the bull round into his carcage, layin’ him out as flat as a flounder! ‘“‘ Tf it had been only fur the Undertaker him- self, the boys might have run the softy out of town, and let him slide. But he was Charley’s ea and Charley had told the boys that he was etter than he looked, and as how he had treat- ed him like a white man, waitin’ on him nights, and such like. So Saphead Sam stocd a mighty likely sbow fur gittin’ a taste of the longest rope this side 0’ sundown. But he belches the bull | business, and, says he:— ‘“*Don’t take my word fur it, gents; but ef Kverybody’s Charley don’t. git well now, jist hang me up to dry—that’s all.’” ‘* And he got well?” asked Bullwhacker Ben. ‘* Well ?” repeated Hoss Johnson. ‘Xf he didv’t, ’ma liar! But, gents, it was a bad speculation, after all, one way 0’ lookin’ at it, fur Saphead Sam. The boys of Silver Riffle kept him jist pickled in free whisky, until he got the Old Man with the Poker after him, and jumped off a bluff. He got a boss send-off, though, and Everybody’s Charley chinned a funeral sermon that ’ud jest knock the socks off from half o’ them that the white-necktie fellers sarves up, in the States. ‘* And now, Cap, ef so be you kin begin whar you left off when | chipped in with my limber jaw whar it hadn’t no business to be, Ill take a ack seat fur a spell,” ‘‘ Boys,”’ cried the Little Giant, “‘I move three cheers and a hummer fur Hoss Johnson and his story!” That was a master-stroke of diplomacy. The cheers were given with a right good will, every one feeling the generosity of their captain, who could volunteer such a tribute to one who had for the time taken his audience out of his hands, From that moment his hearers were wax to his touch. In a few forcible words he applied the story just heard to the casein hand. If Jim Kane’s murderers were not simply men, might they not be demons who, when not emploved in their bloody work, assumed the form of men, and mingled unsuspected with their intended vic- tims, drinking with them at the bar, sitting op- posite to them at the card-table—nay, there In the very crowd before him, plotting their mur- ders? Having by such subtle insinuations worked upon his audience, until each man stood in his guard, grasping revolver or bowie, and viewing his neighbor askance with suspition, he con- cluded, pointing a vibrant finger at the ghastly corpse which lay before him: ‘“*Look at him! Look at him! A hundred gaping wounds! Murder like this will not down !—it cannot be hid !—it cries to Heaven for vengeance! Depend upon it, we shall spot our man before long. When we do, I call upon all honest men to rise up and make swift and sure work of him! - Yell upon yell of menacing assent went up from the crowd, amid which the orator, having roduced the effect desired, got down from his ackwoods rostrum, and was about to retreat into the saloon, when Bullwhacker Ben shouted: ‘‘Three cheers fur the Little Giant! Raise him, boys! Up he goes!” And with Dan the Devil on the other side, the idol of the camp was ‘‘chaired” on the shoul- ders of his admirers, Foxy yelling himself, while No-likee-John scowled and the Kid smiled, each manifesting his cynicism according to his own peculiar temperament, Of course guileless Hell Hole, while swelling the ovation, never felt the finger and thumb with which the “ ring ” Jed it by the nose. But liticians, the world over, are “up” to that ittle game! ne That night Billy Williams’s saloon was thronged, the candles on their wooden sconces | struggling heroically with the heavy tobacco # smoke. Gaths rose clear and distinct, above the rumbling Babel of voices. First one part of the room and then another was the scene of wrangling, which was soothed by some peace- maker more profane than the contestants. From the midst of all this suddenly shot up a stentorian voice: * Nailed, by thunder !” Then there was a dull jar that made the glasses behind the bar jingle. The crowd rushed toward the back end of the room, which was jong and narrow. They saw Bullwhacker Ben in the act of rising to his feet, (c(0) | OOK) eoim CS) (c