Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 237 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 LONE STAR, The Cowboy Captain; R, ; THE MYSTERIOUS RANCHERO. A Romance of W ild Life in Texas. BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, AUTHOR OF “CRIMSON KATE,” ‘‘GRIT, THE BRAVO SPORT,” ‘‘ BISON BILL, ‘‘ GOLD PLUME,” ‘‘ LITTLE GRIT,” ETO, CHAPTER L THE BIVOUAC IN THE CHAPARRALS, “Parps, I says the thing is got to be did, or we won’t bev hide or hoof in a year’s time,”’ ‘‘-You speaks ther truth, Ranger.” “So says we all of us.” At the last remark a chorus of voices cried out: “ That’s the music, pards,” It was a bivouac in the Texas chaparrals not far from the Rio Pecos, and those who formed it were a band of cowboys from the ranches for miles around. There were some thirty of them, and a daring, wild set, dead shots all of them, ex- perts with the lariat, and perfect horsemen. Some of them had evidently been born in the higher walks of life, and been forced by some escapade or crime to fly to the border for immunity from law, while others were men who had grown up upon the prairies, and loved the wild life they led as much as the sailor loves the sea, ) A few of them were owners of small ranches with half a hundred head of cattle and a score of wustangs to call their own, but the majority were herders, or cowboys, for the neighboring rancheros or cattle kings. Among the group, as having dispatched their frugal supper, they gathered :round the camp- fire, more for sociability than warmth, was a wan of herculean frame, sunburnt face, and clad in buckskin, even to his feet, which were incased in moccasins, Feeding alone upon the prairie, or that is, not amid the group of animals belonging to the cowboys, was a large, long-limbed, gauut- bodied mule, — | The cowboys were all dressed in corduroy and velvet, fnitating, in a great degree, the Mexican costume, and their heads were shaded by broad- brimmed sombreros, embroidered with gold or silver thread, and encircled by a cord of gold, — They wore sashes of red, blue and yellow, according to the taste of the wearer for colors, but these did not conceal the pair of revolvers and boWie in their belts. Their saddles were also of the Mexican pat- tern, bespangled with silver, and huge spurs adorned the heels of their cavalry boots. To the ordinary observer the party of cow- boys might appear like a cavalcade of dandies: but a closer glance into the reckless, daring faces would show that they would be a danger- ous crowd to face a body of foes, whether whites or red-skins. 4 With the large man in buckskin there was no show of the fanciful, for his buckskin at- tire was well worn, his gray blanket was old, faded, and in striking contrast to the gay col- .ored serapes of the cowboys. His weapons, a rifle, pair of revolvers and knife, and I should not except his lariat, were homely but service- able, and his saddle and bridle were, like his mule, utterly devoid of beauty. The veteran’s face was like parchment, his hair iron-gray, as was also his beard, and yet he seemed by no. means old, for his eye was sang bawk’s, and his actions as quick as a pan- "Old Bitters he was ‘called, thiugh what his Other name “was no one knew, and che had gained that cognomen when visiting San An- tenio esme years before and always calling for ‘‘bitters” when going toa bar, for he wag not a teetotaller by any means, nor was he a drunkard; but bitters was his drink, and he stuck to that beverage, as unfailingly as the name had since clung to him. By occupation he was a hunter, trapper, Indian-fighter, guide, as the case might be, and his home was on the prairies, or in the moun- tains. . He had just pitched his camp for the night, when the band for cowboys dashed up, having beén on the search for some cattle supposed to have been driven off by Mexican marauders. “Git down an’ camp, pards, fer yer mus- tangs looks played, an’ it are night time, when honest folks sh’u’d rest,” had been his invita- tion to the cowboys, who readily consented, and at once had the bivouac been made, the ponies lariated out, the supper cooked, and all assembled for the chat, which opens this story, CHAPTER II. A BOLD INTRUDER, ‘‘Brrrers, you had oughter know what can be did ter sarcumvent these Greasers from stealin’ cattle,” said Ranger Ralph, one of the cowboys, who gained his border appellation from having once been a member of the rang- ers of the Rio Grande. ‘‘T doesknow, Ranger Ralph,” was Bitters’s quiet reply. ‘What then?” The query came from a score of voices. ‘‘ Jest push straight on ther frail o’ ther bandits, foller on across the Grande, and kill ’em on their own ground.” * But that will cause trouble with Mexico and the United States,” said one. “ Nary; what does Mexico care about a few robbers being kilt? ‘‘T tell yer, they has run off thousands 0’ cattle an’ hundreds o’ mustangs, an’ you kin git ’em all back, for I knows whar they has a lay-out.” ‘‘And you'll lead us there, Bitters?” cried several voices. “Tl guide yer thar, pards; but I doesn’t take no lead, for I isn’t no general, tho’ I kin do a little scrimmages on my own hook,”’ Those who knew Bitters were well aware of this fact, and were most anxious to have him lead them, and one said; ‘‘ Well, Bitters, you be our captain and lead us against them.”’ ek: 1 ‘‘Yes, you be captain, Bitters.” — “Bravo for Captain Bitters, ther boss o” ther cowboys,” and the cowboys gave a ring- ing cheer. “‘ Cap’n Durnation ! now Bitters w’u’d be a handsome name—Cap’n Bitters—for the Army Registry, wouldn’t it, though?” ‘‘Nary cap’n in mine, pards, so I resigns; but I'll guide yer, ef yer elects a cap’n I isn’t afeerd ter foller.” All argument to be their chief failing upon the scout, the cowboys began to look among their number for a captain, and Ranger Ralph said, modestly: : “Tf you are satisfied with ‘me, pards, I would be your captain.” | ‘‘Nary; for you hasn’t ther full amount 0’ sand that are needed ter fill ther bill,” was Bitters’s quiet response, At this all of the boys laughed, excepting Ralph, whose face flushed, and then grew pale with anger, while he said, stoutly: ‘‘No man dare say I am a coward,” ‘‘No man will say yer is a brave man ontil he sees yer tried on, pard Ralph. You may be a terror, but yer doesn’t look it, an’ as we was ter obey a cap’n, I moves, although I hain’t a cowboy, that we doesn’t elect no man leader as hasn’t been know’d ter be clean grit to the backbone.” ) “You are right, Bitters,” said one, while J - Ranger Ralph remarked: ‘“‘T confess I am something of a stranger among the boys, having only lately come here, but baving been a ranger, I thought my ex- perience might be worth sc .” Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. “You is handsome, I'll allow; yer figger are all right, too, yer rides well, an’ I has seen yer shoot dead center; but for real out-an’- outer grit yer don’t look it,” | ‘‘ You may find out that I-have grit if you continue your insulting remarks,” was the angry retort of Ralph, as he glared upon the scout, who laughed lightly and replied: | ** Boy, I bas seen a panther look me in the eye, an’ I wasn’t skeert, so that scowl don’t make me tremble, an’ ef yer had been ther man ter lead ther boys, yer’d hev had me licked afore this, fer ef amy man hed said ter me what I has ter you, ther’ would hev been a fight or a foot-race immegiate. ‘‘T hasn’t nothin’ ag’in’ yer, I swear, only as this are a perilsome trip, an’ I am ter be guide, 1 wants some one ter go as cap’n who we knows won’t back at any danger. ‘“‘ Hain’t I right, cowboys?” r All gave a unanimous assent, and Ranger Ralph’s aspirations to leadership were squelched, though, had Bitters not spoken as he did, there would have been no doubt of his becoming cap- tain, as he sung a good song, spent bis money freely, and was generally liked and believed ta. be a brave man. “Well, who is to be captain ?” asked Ranger Ralph, trying to conceal his mortification and anger, and yet most anxious to avoid trouble with Bitters, who had a reputation for fear- lessness that had never been belied, No-one auswered the question, for not any of the number cared to put himself up for a target for the tongue of Bitters to open on, They looked from one to the other, and it was evident that they were in a quandary, for though there were several who would have liked to have been chosen captain, a glance at the face of Bitters was sufficient to deter them from proposing themselves for the important position. ‘*‘T propose that Lucky Luke be made cap’n,” presently suggested one of the cow- boys. . The person thus proposed smiled and glanced his thanks at the one making the motion, and then had only to look furtively around tho circle of faces to see that the move was not going to be seconded and unanimously carried. He was a devil-may-care sort of fellow, nominally a cowboy, but who allowed the cattle to roam to Ballyhak if he could get a game of cards. started, and Bitters was the only one present who had not felt his prowess at gambling. _ A bully, too, in his way, he was not as pop- ular as he believed himself, “Don’t. nobody second the motion 0’ Mus- tang Mike?’ asked Lucky Luke. . No answer cams, and he continued: _ “T seconds it myself, then; who speaks ag’in’ it?” | _ He glanced around upon the cowboys: until his eyes rested upon Bitters. _ “He are so lucky at keerds, I thought as how he might be ther same at fightin’ Greasers,” said Mustang Mike, one of the greatest suffer- ers at Lucky Luke’s hands, and offering the latter remark as a kind of amendment of his “As you looks at me, pard, more’n at t’others, I s’pose yer wants a answer?” said - 5 3, quietly. es, LT want to know what you has ag’in’ | Nuthin’ o’ my own knowledge, tho’ I has heerd yer is a card-sharp.” “Then you do not oppose my being cap’n 0’ ther cowboys,’ and Lucky Luke looked as though the scout dare not oppose him. . **T said I had nothin’ ag’in’ yer, pard, an’ [ hain’t fer ordinary work; but I haiu’t a fool ter go as guide under yer, ef yer is made cap’n.” | Ss eiahp you’}l find I hain’t Ranger FE savagely. ae | ‘You is worse _ he see my weepins is teo convenient fer a man ter git ther drop on me,” and anticipatin » the intention of Lucky Luke to draw a revolver, (El) IOO com (E cS