Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 221 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

ee ere ee o--~- ee em ae ee ee se ee ee small child—my father perished, it is said, in a conflict between Mormons and Gentiles, four years ago.” ** Ah! your people were Mormons, then?” “‘My tatber was a settlerin Utah, and per. force a member of the Mormon church. He was, however, a secret foo to polygamy, and had but one wife. In consequence of this, he . was not a favorite among the Mormons, but I don’t think they bore nim any positive enmity. Sometimes I have had strange jears that he did not fallin the affray with the Gentiles, as was said, but fell a prey to the Danites, 1 have heard him privately speak in favor of the Gen- tiles, one of whom he really was at heart, and it does not seem probable to me that he would taxc uparms against them. I was attending school at Salt Lake City at the time, and there- fore am in the dark, concerning bis fate.” “ After bis death, you left Utah?” ‘* Yes, | was forced to, or become a victim of an existence I[abhor. After my father’s death, a will purported to have been written by bim, was produced and read to me. I now believe and always shall believe that it was a forgery. In this will, my fatber bequeathed me to his own brother, Commodore Burt, for his fourth wife. All his landed estate and money he willed to me until my marriage—then, it was to be handed over to my husband—my own uncle—to do with as he might choose. When I heard these strange stipulations, my very being became §lled with unutterable horror. And, more especially so, wher I was told that Commodore Burt was com- ing the next day to claim me as his fourth wife, under sanction of the church. Rather than be- come his prey, death in any phase seemed wel- come tome. Resolved not to yield even to the man ate of my father’s will, 1 made hasty pre- parations, and that night escaped from my schoolt aud from the city, and fled for my faiher’s country residence. I knew where he yilways kept his money, and before daybreak I Was in possession of the small sum of five hun- dred doilars he had laid by, and was flying for ‘the Hast. ‘* It was now a matter of life and death with me—the laws of Mormonism told me this. I knew that the Commodore would put Danite agents upon my trail, with instructions to take me, dead or alive. It would not matter to him which—indeed, I knew my death would be most to his liking, as my father’s estate would go to him all the same. ‘** Need I tell you the rest? I fled from Utah eastward—l tried to escape the pursuing demons of the Mormon church, by hiding myself in the ‘towns under various aliases, but all to no avail. The Danite hounds tracked me with the per- ‘sistency of demons, and I would scarcely get ‘settled in one place, ere their near presence would frigbten me into flight to some other. And in this way I have flown, until at last I sdught this remote region, but only to fied my relentiess foe, the Commodore, here nearly as soonasl. I however now resolved to remain and fizht it out, if need be. He cannot do more than kill me. ‘. approve of your grit,” Calamity said, heartily. ‘‘ Don’t get skeered until you're burt. ‘You're in Uncle Sam’s country yet, and I allow ormon laws won't work, hyar. All yer enemy can do, is pop you over, and I reckon ho’!l think twice before doing that.” Since finding the headless remains of Sugar- Coated Sam, alias Deadwood Dick, the poet and publisher had been strangely quiet, for a man of his roustabout and hilarious character. To be sure he had lost one of the most promi- nent. features of his visage, which fact might account for his quiet, but then, a sort of general despoydency seemed to have settled over him; he was nervous and watchful, as if about to re- ceive a blow; his poetical fits were few and tar between—the issues of the Grim Gulch Gazet- teer were irregular and sourly edited. ‘‘ What’s the matter wi’ Shake?’ the miners ‘§ would ask of each other. “FHfe jooks like he was mournin’ mother-in-Jaw.” _ ‘* Or his proboscis, fer instance,” fer his But when questioned on the matter, the bull- wacker poet would sadly shake his head. ‘“‘Nary a mourn fer mother-’n-law, b’yees,” he wouid say, ‘‘’ca’se I nevyer hed one. * An’, as fer ther nose, Et’s wrapt in repose— Et war a bad dose— A shave werry ‘close, But I’ve cradled my woes, “As every one knows.’ N », et nain’t oy xcecount o’ thar : Se ee ‘ ’ . Cel loss oO’ mv ' “| Ta a ee —— ea ree Se ee — — t > ee :.*. Sugar-Coated Sam. me me we eee a ee time. I’ve got a premonition o’ suthin’ wuss than losin’ one’s nasal fluke, you .bet, or ye wouldn’t see Wiliam Henry Shakespeare down in ther mouth. Ye’re goin’ ter git a shock, d’rectly, my noble guzziers—a shock wi’at ll warm ye et’s high time ter be dustin’ up yer disused testaments, an’ devote yer spare mo- ments tew re flectin’ on the runsart’inties uv ther ethereal future.” Looking over the rough citizens of Grim Gulch, it would seem probable that few, if any of them, bad ever handled a Bible, more es- pecially in the latter years of their lives. And it appeared there was something in Shakespeare’s premonition, for a few evenings later, a man came rushing into the Bella Union, yelling incoberently and gesticulating more like a lunatic than asane person. He trembled in every limb, and his teeth chattered as though he was wrestling with a chill. ‘**Speak—what’s ther matter?’ one of the miners demanded, shaking him, roughly. ‘* Out with it!” **Ghosts! g-h-o-s-t-s!” the poor fellow an- swered, ‘* D-d-deadwood Dick—grave!” Taking the cue, the ocecupants of the saloon rushed forth into the street. Deadwood Dick’s grave was located upon a knoll, three or four hundred yards away, ana in full view from the street in front of the Belia Union. As the crowd poured forth into the street, i ee ee re es ee se ee | | | a ee ee -_— Se OO i$ ro recor had composure enough to do so, and he drew a pistol and fired at the nearest of the ghostly figures on the bouse-tops. Bang went the weapon spitefully! ‘* Hn! ha! ha!” came another shriek of de- risive lauguter, then, almost as quick as a flash of lightning, the phantom figures disappeared from’ the house-tops, avd darkness reigned supreme. It was the same over at Deadwood Dick’s grave. The resurrected garments of the ex-vutiaw were no longer to be seen, nor was any object in the vicinity of hie grave, owing to the gloom. And, yet, this fact seemed hardly a relief to the aroused populace, They stood still, for some time after the disappearance of the appa- ritions, in fear lest they should return. Thoroughly cowed and trightened were a great majority of them, while a few pretended to be perfectly composed, although they really were as much ‘put out, as their comrades. Gradually, however, they slunk away, and no more were seen till day dawned again over the golden gulch. ; By this time, a great many had partially re- gained their spirits, but a number of the badly frightened packed their ‘kit,’ and took the morning stage, bound to otber ‘ lays.’ During the morning an old, ragged and de- crepit man, who walked with a gnarled staff, and whose long tangled hair and leard was as white as driven snow, made his appearance in their eyes turned upon this mound and cries o | camp. horror and consternation broke from their lips. Mounted upon some invisible object in mid- air, a dozen feet above the grave, were the arments and the seeming body of Deadwood ick, yet headless for the Tiat sat upon the col- lar of the jacket. And around and over all, shone a weird phosphorescent light. CHAPTER VIII. THE POET GOES A JOURNEY. Wauat did it mean? Had Deadwood Dick returned to the earthly as a spiritual wanderer, minus his head? » Even the immortal Shakespeare seemed a lit- tle nervous. ‘Tork, now, wull ye,” he whispered. ‘* Say thet William vee Shakespeare ain’t a prog- nosticator, as well as a poet, hey? Waal, I should chuckle—J should! Ghosts, boyees— ghosts! reliable, genywine bony-fried article, too. Ob! Job, whar is thy monument 0’ patience, ter slip under my gallusses, an’ stay mv spime, in this hour o’ need?” ‘* Pool! et’s somebody a-tryin’ tricks on us; I don’t believe in ghosts,” one miner finally be- came bold enough to declare. ‘‘ Ye ken’t shet my gazin’ trap up wi’ sech nonsense.” ‘* Ner I,” agreed another. ‘“‘ That's right, boys; don’t take any stock in such rubbish,” advised’ Commodore Burt, coming along. ‘‘ Supernatural visitations in- variably originate’wita weak minds and vivid imaginations, I daresay if you toss a couple of bullets over in the direction of the robber's grave, you won’t have any further trouble, whatever.” ‘*“S’posin’ we try it,” suggested a citizen, drawing a revolver. “If thar’s a human be- hind them togs o’ Deadwood Dick, I opine I can tickle him, fu’st time trying.”: And raising his weapon, he aimed and fired. Instead of acry of pain, which many of the spectators had expected to hear, there came a wild eldritch peal of laughter, which seemed to echo and re-echo, mockingly, and caused a chill of doubt and consternation to creep down the backbones of nearly every one who heard it. And not only one laugh, was there, but a dozen or more, coming from as many differeut direc- tions. | | He was the same party whom Sugar- Coated Sam had taken to his tent, the night before the safe robbery, and who had afterward been found missing. He was hatless, now, and wandered silently about, an object of curiosity and suspicion to the miners. About noon he met Commodore Burt face to face, just in front of the Bella Union, and shook his fist in the latter’s face, with a guttural and unintelligible utterance, after which be hobbled on, while, for several moments the Mormon stood still, pale, and like one,:dazed. Then a shudder passed over him, and an angry flush came to relieve the pallor upon bis cheek. ** Curses on mestlia thought nearly electrified me,” he muttered, gazing atter the stranger. ‘‘But, pshaw! the old lunatic is some harmless fool, who does not know what he is doing. If I thought that there could be any truth—’ Without finishing, he gritted his teeth, and re-entered the Bella Union. Later, he returred to McDuff’s boarding house, and to his room, where the woman who bad claimed to be Mrs. Sam Singleton was seated, engaged in sewing. ‘‘ Well?’ she said, inquiringly, as he entered, ‘“‘what now?’—for she perceived by his expres sion, that something was wrong. « Enough to make me feel uncomfortable,” he growled, pacing the floor. ‘* Did you see the old codger on the street with snow-white hair and beard?” sé No )?? ‘Well, I did, and a thought entered my mind, that he was my bitterest enemy, here to finish me.” ‘‘Pshaw! you are weakening.” ‘By no means. I am in fair way of owning the town, if this ghost business only scares off a few more of the miners.” ‘To whom do you assign the authorship of the apparitions?” ‘‘T’m puzzled. If, as I have sometimes believed, Deadwood Dick is alive and well, to- day—then I amas good as assured that he is the prime instigator. But if he’s dead, lam in the dark, unless the old pilgrim is at the bottom of it. ‘‘ Deadwood Dick cannot well be alive, after being found dead, and headless.” ‘‘Who knows for certain that it really was Was there an army of ghostly visitors sur- | his body that we found? To be sure, the clothes rounding the town? Ha! what strange visions were these that greeted the citizens’ eyes, as, on gezing around at different house-tops, they bebeld ghosily white-robed figures positioned there, each with the right hand pointed accusingly down at the astounded behoiders! From these specters the peals of laughter seemed to emanate, and grim and uncanny enough they looked, the same phosphorescent halo of light that surrounded the garments of Deadwood Dick, being perceptible around his phantom guard. ‘“Curses on me!” Commodore Burt gasped, quaking with affright, ‘‘ what does all this mean? Fire, somebody—fire and break this in- fernal spell!” . | | | | | | . ee 468 ee were recognized as belonging to him, but that was all. His head was gone, and nobody could bave sworn to the figure.” ‘‘ Tt will be davgerous for us here, in case he is alive.” ‘‘ Undoubtedly, if, as I suspect, he is at the head of a band of outlaws again. He is a steel- bar I would not care to cope with, even witb odds in my favor. I shall keep on the look-out and we must be prepared to flee at any mo- ment. First, however, we must be sure that two persons are dead—the girl, Bessie, and the old ragmuffin who is at present in town. You must attend to the latter case at once, and [| will look out for the giri.” athe “Ueh! you know my horror of this kind of work ¢” aw? ** boo 7 si cS Gomi (E (E(@) =