Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 219 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

§ _—-- himself! I jist got a glimpse, an’ that hoss streaked it fur camp, an’ 1 didn’t try to stop him, nuther, you bet!” ‘‘ ‘But what was he like?” “Waal, sir, [reckon he wa’n’t an inch above three foot high. He had horns jest like a buffa- ler, an’ long black ha’r what hung down all about him, cl’ar to the ground. Ef he had any face on him it was underneath this ha’r, ’cause 1 didn’t see nothin’ but the horns an’ha’r. He jabbed a pitch-fork at me, an’ said somethin’ what wa’n’t buman lingo. Boys, the spell’s on me. Ifeelitin my bones. 1 hain’t got nothin’ in this hyar world to keer fur but a little crippled sister in Evansville, Ingianna. Ef I git rubbed out one o’ these dark nights, you’ll find a map of a lead that ve been workin’ on the sly, an’ a little cache o’ dust that I’ve been layin, by, sewed in my belt, I hope some 0’ yell be honest enough to find it, an’ send her what the thing’s worth.” His faculties dulled by the deep dejection which he mistook for a spell, and for the time thinking more of the sister he loved than of his surroundings, Johnny Dabb had been betrayed mtoa very foolish thing. While most of his audi- tors felt only dread uf the supernatural influences that seemed to environ the camp, threatening the safety of all, one resolved to constitute him- self the agent for the fulfillment of the warning, by knocking Johnny on the head, or tucking a bowie up under his jacket, with a view to possessing himself of that secret mine and cache. Having heard Johnny Dabb’s description of the devil, the Kid said to his superior: “That is Washikitwa, Seek her somewhere among the Mission Ridge crags.” On the following day the Little Giant repaired thither, and, after considerable search, found the lodge of the Indian seere's. It was rudely constructed of skins black with age, and hung about with the bodies of tinicoke Vikaeda. bats, toals—all those reptiles whose repulsiveness has inspired ignorance with superstitious fears ever since the world began. As there was no external sign of life, Joe Smedley ventured to lift the flap and enter, Squatted on the ground he saw an object which thrilled even his stout heart with dread. CHAPTER VII. THE SECOND DUEL, As Johnny Dabb had described them, there were the buffalo-horns, from which fell coarse horse-hair. it was light enough in the wigwam for Joe Smedley to distinguish through this vail of hair the bent form of an old Indian hag, so emaciated as to look like a parchment-covered skeleton. The face was wrinkled almost out of human semblance. The eyes were closed. She gat clasping her knees. She might have been asleep or dead. Only a slight motion of the heir that fell before her face indicated that she breathed, Knowing the strange habits of these people, the Little Giant sat down and waited patiently for the enchantress to notice his presence. Meanwhile he amused himself by looking her ever. Sbe was hung all over with charms—oddly- shaped bits of wood or crude metal, shells, peb- bles and bones. ‘There were the fangs and rat- tiles of snakes, the teeth of animals, tufts of bair,and bits of dried hide, All these were fashioned into pendants which fringed the whole rims of her ears, and necklaces that hung upon her bare breast, besides being worked into grotesque figures that covered her garments. For a good two hours Joe Smedley’s patience held out, though sorely tried. Then, as the figure before him had not once changed its posi- tion, though he had moved restlessly and coughed to rouse the old witch, if she were sleeping, he asked: “What would Washikitwa with the Little Giant? Heis here. His ears are open.” He might as well have talked to a wooden ‘mage, Washikitwa never so much as moved lan eyelid. After waiting perhaps an hour longer oe left the old hag just as he had er. _ The Kid laughed when appealed to for an ex- meee: of his strange reception, out of his dian lore, Something amiss,” he said. ‘* You didn’t o « ser in the right time, perhaps. The devil mse couldn’t always teil what whims seize msimps. You'll hear from her again.” And ine did. Ur ening te bis cabin, he found 2 niece of & tymg on sone Coorsione, searing the igure 7 Pf orcecon* MmaGr MA dwerr je.ween tw > <a8, he got found Despard,.the Duelist. **Didn’t I tell you? She wants you at mid- night,” was the Kid's interpretation. ‘*The deuce she does! replied the Little Giant, reflecting, not without some secret misgivings, on a midnight interview with that weird crea- ture. « But before midnight another matter claimed his attention. The superior attractiveness of lron Despard’s Palace Saloon made it the favorite place of resort. The other saloon-keepers, being burt in that tenderest spot, the pocket, were disposed to make common cause against him. At any rate, they and their particular friends would be likely to rally to the support of any one who incurred the hostility of the new man. It was early evening, yet both the drinking saloon and the gambling hall of tron Despard’s place were crowded, when the door opened, to give admittance to Bullwhacker Ben, followed by a man whose individuality had been made so secondary to that of the woman in whose establishment he acted in the capacity of fighting-man, that he was known only as **Moll Pritchard’s Right Bower,” which was clipped to ‘‘ Bower” when he was directly ad- dressed. Three others, known collectively as ‘Billy Williams’s gang,” and representatives from the ‘Dew Drop Inn,” the “ Way Side,” the ‘* Miner’s Delight,” and *“‘ Muldoon’s E)bow ”’ (suggested by that descriptive bit of slang— ‘‘crooking one’s’ elbow”) accompanied these doughty warriors to see fair play. By all this, it will be seen that the matter had been “cooked up” very nicely. The very men who *‘ took a hand” did not ** drop ” tothe Lit- tle Giant anywhere in the ‘‘ deal.’ Taking his stand in the middle of the barroom, Bullwhacker Ben demanded, boldly :— ‘¢ Whar’s this new man, Iron Despard?’ Iron Despard ‘‘spotted” the army that had dropped on bim. ‘*So these fellows have concluded to pool their interests, and run me out?’ he reflected, as he stepped forward in bis cool way. ‘* Well, stranger, I reckon I’m the man you’re looking for,” he said to the ex-bullwhacker. The latter eyed him insolently from head to foot, and then asked :— ‘Ts this all thar is of ye?” ‘‘There is probably enough of me toanswer your purpose,” replied the gambler prince. ‘What do you want?’ ‘* Waal, boss,” said Bullwhacker Ben, assum- ing a blustering tone, **you’ve come to this hyar town with yer new-fangled gimcracks, a-tryin’ fur to hold over better men than you be, any day, an’ men that the boys has knowed ever sence the place was opened up. Now, that thar’s all right, ef you’ve got the sand to back it, but you’ve got to ’arn yer footin’ in this hyar berg. So we’ve come to say that you’ve either got to git, or kick ]” “Ts that all that you have to say?’ asked Iron Despard, with perfect coolness. ‘““T reckon as how it is.” “Well, this is my reply: To begin with, you lie, when’ you say that’ you have a better man than t bin in this town. In the second par I have the sand, and shall most certainly SUCK, Without a word further Bullwhacker Ben made a great parade of pulling off his hat and handing it to Moll Pritchard’s Right Bower, and rolling the sleeves of his shirt up above the elbow. ** Boss,” he said, ** will or outside?” ‘‘ Have what?’ asked Iron Despard. ‘The length o’ this hyar beauty!” replied Bullwhacker Ben, whipping out his bowie with a flourish. ‘‘ As I should prefer not to dirty the floor of my place with your blood, | will accommodate you outside, if it is all the same to you,” was the cool rejoinder. **Oh, you’ll find me a mighty easy man to git along with,” affirmed Buliwhacker Ben. “Kither way, you wouldn’t have the cleanin’- up on yer hands. ’Bout face, boys. This hyar meetin’s adjourned to the street.’ Iron Despard turned to the men in his saloon. “Gentlemen,” he said, “lam a stranger among you; but I reckon there’s white men enough in this town to see fair play. You know the crowd that has raided me to-night, perhaps better than I do. Now, I’m ready to take them all, one at a time, or, if that don’t suit, two at a time, provided they face me; but I don’t want any blows in the back—” ‘“* And, by thunder, pardner, you sha’n’t have rone!” eriod Hoss Johnson. “ Ain’t that so, Joe!’ 1.6 Dursued, appealing to tas Littie Gaant. “Weare ne: murderers here. Kvery white you have it in hyar, —_ — eS ae — —————————— _ - ——— man has a fair show,” replied the captain otf Vigilantes, coldly. ‘* Phar!” exclaimed Hoss Johnson, who had no fine ear for shades of tone. ‘‘ You hyar what the Cap says, an’ Lreckon ef he don’t run this hyar camp, thar don’t nobody!” jron Despard locked from Hoss Johnson to Joe Smedley. The former besaw at once was an honest fellow whom it would do to ‘ tie” to. Although be knew nothing of the relations of the latter with the Queen of the Green Cloth, he had instinctively felt his hostility at first sight. Now he began to perceive dimly that the real fight was with this man. He concluded that Joe Smedley feared his rival popularity. ‘Thank you, gentlemen,” he said, making his address general, ‘if you will step outside L will try to show you some fun.” As we have already described it, the street in front of the Palace Saloon was brilliantly illu- minated by a large gasoline lamp, such as is used by showmen. The reader will remember that Ircn Despard wore a long military cloak. This he removed together with bis coat, taking scmewhere from their folds, as he handed them to Hoss Johnson, a bowie-knife which fairly matched the huge weapon of Bullwhacker Ben. ‘This was the first surprise, as few men carried so formidable an instrument of deatb. From the bosom of his *‘ b’iled ” shirt flashed a dazzling cross of ten large diamonds—a king’s ransom in value—bhis possession of which no one would have suspected from his perfect freedom of display in dress. The miners began to perceive that this was a new manner of man, who wore thousands of dollars in gems concealed from the eye of the world, merely for his personal satisfaction. He next removed his spurs and bat, and then bound a fine silk handkerchief about his head to keep his long bair from falling before his eyes. Lastly, he rolled up the sleeves of his linen shiit and of a silk undershirt, disclosing an arm which called forth from the crowd a@ murmur of sur- prise and admiration, Beneath a skin as smooth and white as ala- baster, the muscles lay folded one upon the other like bands of steel. ‘‘ Pardon me for keeping you so long waiting. Tam ready,” he said, confronting Builwhacker Ben in anattitude of perfect grace and strength, and fixing his glittering eyes upon those of his adversary with that fascinating intensity pe- culiar to them. Bullwhacker Ben had drank just enough liquor to put bim in fighting trim; and though he realized that be had no ‘‘ chicken,” to deal with, he *‘came tothe scratch smiling.” Their knives clashed with a _ blood-curdlin gride. Then they began to circle slowly ood: each other—toe to toe, eye to eye! The spectators stood breathless, Suddenly the men began to writhe, their knives flashing in every direction. Click! Click! Click! Clash! Clash! Clash! Gr-r-ride! ** A-a-ah |” With a yell of pain, Bullwhacker Ben sprung back, clapping his hand to ‘his neck.» But the abject terror in his face passed into a look of savage, vindictive hate as he discovered that it was but a slight flesh wound, No change came over the settled purpose of Iron Despard’s face. With the wary step of a panther he followed his man up, giving him no breathing spell. Again their knives clashed. And now, thoroughly warmed to the work, they fought with stubborn obstinacy. Such exhibitions of strength, agility, dexteri- ty! Although Bullwhacker Ben overtopped his adversary by at least two inches, and was pro- portionately heavier and stronger at a dead strain, besides having the advantage of a longer reach, Iron Despard had a wrist of steel, and a supple pliancy of body that enabled him to as- su pte attitudes with the elusive quickness of an eel, But suddenly the partisans of the giant bull- whacker uttered a yell of exultation, as they saw their champion at the same moment tear the handkerchief from Iron Despard’s head, and deal him a savage thrust in the side. The gambler prince uttered no cry, nor. did he flinch back; but over the whole man came a terrible change. That wound seemed to turn him into a veritable Gemon, The wind blew his black hair over his face, so that he had to brush it back with his hand, giving Bullwkacker Ben the advantage he had sought. But the face thus revealed was ghastly in its pallor, murderous in its blazing eyes and gleam- mg teeth, Now trov Jesnard forced the fight- me .. «a: Littsistiose xerocity that thrilled GN GOMmMIGDec