Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 242 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

4 se ; There came a roar of exultation from the winning bully. He sprung up and cracked his heels together. ‘* By the r’arin’ ripstaver, didn’t I tell you?” he shouted. ‘‘ The idear of you boys shootin’ agin’ me! Jist slide out till [ rake down that cool two hundred.” “Hold up, my friend. You’ve got a match with me yet.” It was the voice of the city gentleman, Frank Frazer. ‘** You!” roared the bully. ‘* You ain’t con- founded jackass enough to shoot ag’in’ Bill Bounce?” “Til lay two hundred against your prize, and shoot you a match for the pool or nothing.” “Done!” cried the* exultant mountaineer. ** It’s a square bet. And we chaps don’t allow nv back-down.” “Allright. Don’t you try it on then,” was the cool reply. 1 ruyed CHAPTER IIL. | A LUCKY RIFLE. FIFTEEN minutes have passed since the mo- ment of the close of our last chapter. This in- terval has been enough to produce considerable excitement.in the throng of sportsmen. The match between Bill Bounce and the city gentle- man seems to them utterly ridiculous. It can- - not be possible that the stranger will have any chance against their crack marksman. Yet the bet is a big one, and the man does not look like a wi | aha No one can tell what may turn up. hey cannot help taking a deep interest in the match. **'What’s to be the target?’ cried the moun- taineer. ‘‘I can’t waste my vallyble time yere. Ther’s duck in the mountings, and old Betsy’s hankerin’ arter them. Jist stir up, so’s I kin rake down that there stake, and git.” His opponent smiled, as he continued to slice the bark from a slender willow wand, which he had just cut. It was about six feet long, ese he was barking it for about a foot from one en ** Here’s y r target,” he said, holding up the slender stick. ‘“‘The man that can cut this be- tween bark and wood at a hundred paces, takes the pool. That’s the bull’s-eye, and the nearest wins. : He pointed to the spot, where the barked met the unbarked portion of the stick. Bill Bounce whistled, and then broke into a hearty laugh. The affair seemed to strike him comicall y- | “All squar’, my honey,” he ejaculated. ‘ll shoot ata streak o’ ligbtnin’, or a midge’s eye. Yer can’t play no dodges on Alleghany Bill, nary time. But ye’re not ’spectin’ to hit that thar toothpick?” “Pll try to slice a little more bark from it,” replied k, as he closed his knife, and re- turned it to his pocket. ‘ Just. stick this bit of timber in the ground, at a hundred paces.” He handed it to one of the managers of the match. “*'Yer don't mean to say as yer in earnest?” asked Bill, in astonishment, * You bet bam!” “Shoot me far a punkin-eater if I thought war sich a fool! ake up thar, hosses! The doah rhinoceros is in a hurry to rake ogy that cash. Put up stakes, incontinen- ¢ “*My money is up, against your prize,” an- Frank, as he tried dhe bacainer of his weapon. “Toad it for me; Hardy,” he said, to the ee man. ‘* You know its paces better than 0. Hardy took the ge ton with a very doubt- ful ion. He stepped up close to the —— man, who was resting easily against a ree, “You are \urowing away your money, sir,” he protested, “You have no chance against that man. You had best lose the forfeit and draw stakes.” ~~ | ‘*That’s what I think,” remarked Mr. Smike, the Virginian. ‘‘ You saw in the last match how the man could shoot.” tf him go on,” cried Bart, satirically. ‘*Money is no object with us city bucks. He has got to earn his education.” smiled quietly as these remarks were made. He would have returned some answer, but just then one of the judges tossed up a silver dollar for choicé of shots. ‘* Heads or tails?’ be demanded. Frank, ‘* And heads itis. You have first choice.” ‘Very well; then our Shenandoah alligator can have first shot; and some of you tell him The Two ‘ Bloods.” ———— i= uietly to do his best. He may find he has no ouch to deal with.” ' ‘* Vd jist like to shoot you with blunderbusses ag’in’ a brick house,” retorted the mountaineer, ‘*it’s a dead shame to waste the fine p’ints of a rifle on a counter-jumper as don’t know a sight from a pig’s eye.” ‘* All clever,” smiled Frank. ‘‘There’s your target, let’s see what’s in you.” e slender, greenish rod was scarcely visi- ble against the grassy background. Only its whitish upper portion was distinctly visible, and at the distance it looked like a mere line. Old Tom shook his head sonpteney: ‘* The grass blinds it,” he said. ‘‘ You might as well try to bark a swallow’s tail with a flying bullet,’ “Yer eyes ain’t as sharp as they used to were, old fellow,’’ returned Bill Bounce, as he stepped up to the shooting station. ‘ Why, old hoss, I’ve shot the point off a ’skeeter’s sting afore now. Ye don’t s’pose Pll back down from that thar toothpick? Not much, I reckon.” All was silent as the renowned marksman brought the rifle to his eye, There was no brag about Bill now, the prize was teo valuable to take any chances on. The wind had nigaar fallen, and his keen eye ranged the sights wit all his old skill. The spectators anxiously awaited the result. A light pressure of the finger, a flash of light, a keen report, and the bullet sped on its path. There was a rush toward the target. Bill rested on his smoking rifle, with some anxiety on his rough face. ‘“‘A prime shot,” came the announcement, *‘ the bullet chipped the wood not an inch above the bark.” ‘* Whoopee!” screamed Bill, as he sprung from the ground and clacked his heels. ‘‘ Didn’t I sw’ar as old Betsy’d do it? When the Shanan- doah buzzard talks ther’s fun in the wind. Stir up to ther capting’s office, hoss-flies, and imbibe! It’s my treat, and the feller as don’t h’ist p’izen is goin’ to git his b’iler bu’st, you bet!” Wait till you are out of the woods, my rooster, before you crow too loud,” suggested Frank Frazer, satirically, as he walked forward, bearing the rifle on his shoulder. ‘‘ You can spend as much of your own cash as you want, but I’ve got some say in that stake.” ‘* Why yer ain’t infernal jackass to think as you kin te’ch that thar sapling?’ ‘*[ can try,” answered Frank arty He raised the rifle to his eye, and glanced along its sights. - “* How does it shoot, Hardy?” he asked, ‘‘ Is there any adjustment to make?” ‘Not at that distance. Aim dead center. And I hope the confounded wind won’t serve you the trick it did me.” ‘* Jist wait, lads,” winked Bill, ‘‘till our city bucks ’arns which end of the rifle the powder goes in,” ** 1 can show you which end the bullet comes out,” retorted Frank. As he spoke the rifle was raised in the line of the wand. Then for a single instant it rested, the young man standing in a graceful attitude while not a muscle moved. en fire flashed from the muzzle of the weapon. He had shot so quickly, and with so little show of aim, that the most of the spectators supposed the rifle had gone off accidentally. All eyes glanced at the target, but it was no longer visible. It had mysteriously re: ed. ‘Shoot me for a sonkey. ef f boy ain’t rooted the stick clean ou laughed his opponent. ‘“‘l’ve a notion not,” replied Frank. ‘I thought you bragged on your eyesight.” ‘* It is the grass that’s hiding the stick!’ cried Hardy. ‘‘The white part is gone, and the grass hides the green.” ‘* By the saints, it can’t be!” exclaimed Old Tom, as he briskly forwarc. ‘Ts an infernal lie!” roared Bill. ‘Is it, my cove? We shall see.” Frank rested his chin on his smoking rifle. A loud cry came from the men about the tar- er A dead center! A dead center! And the stick cut as clean as a whistle!” One of the men ran forward with the two pieces of the target in his hand. The barked portion of the stick was cut from the the re- mainder as cleanly as if done with a knife. Frank’s friends Hieber around him with con- eral ations. Bill stood aside, with a look of ‘ sur i paxy on his face. ‘ Ther’s seme hanged trick!” he yelled. ‘‘ It’s not in the oer to do it. It’s a put-up job to cheat me out of the pool. Shoot me fur a screech-owl if I ’stand it!” of the ground,” ee “TI think you will,” retorted the resolute judge of the match. “Maybe it’s a chance shot, but Mr. Frazer has fairly won. The stakes are bis.” ‘‘ Blast me if they is, then! I ain’t goin’ to be wolfed outer my rights. If he wants that cash he’s got to fight a mounting rhinoceros fur it.” Bill flung his coat to the ground, and ad- vanced in a hostile attitude. ‘You want to fight, do you?” returned Frank. ‘“‘Come on, then, if that’s your game.” He handed the rifle to Mr. Smike, and placed himself in a posture of defense. His somewhat slender frame looked like a mere twig beside that of the burly ruffian, Yet his eyes were fixed on Bill with a look that meant mischief. “Tl take passage in that boat, if there’s no objection,” cried Bart, as he strode up, with his burly form and broad shoulders. iS ve him to me,” exclaimed Frank angrily. ‘$ lve carried bigger mules than this one, befere now. But the threatened fight was not to take place. A rush of the mountaineers parted the combatants. ‘‘ The boy has won fair, and the stake is his,”’ cried one of these. ‘*‘ You subside, Bill, or we'll settle your hash,” The furious ruffian glared at the determined faces surrounding him. Then, with a curse, and a muttered threat of revenge, he flung his weapon across his shoulder, and strode moodily into the woods. ‘You must look out for him,” warned Old Tom. ‘‘ He is dangerous when he is crossed. He may do you a harm.” ‘*T don’t fear him,” answered Frank. Those present crowded around him with con- gratulations. There was not a rough moun- taineer in the crowd but insisted on shaking bands and drinking with the successful marks- man. ‘* Oh, drop that, lads!” cried I'rank modestly. ‘‘T guess the shot was half chance. And if I were to drink with all of you I would have to be carried out on a shutter. But mind, it is my eet, Make yourselves at home with the uid, They were not slow to obey. Frank quietly received his winnings from the stake-holder, and walked away toward his friends. ‘Where is Hardy?” he asked. **Over yonder, by the big oak. The poor fel- low is awfully down.” ** Here’s your rifle, my lad,” remarked Frank to the gloomy youth. ‘“‘I am sorry that it was my hands and not yours that it won the prize.” “Tt’s all right,” replied Hardy, quietly re- ceiving it. ‘‘ Fortune is dead against me, It can’t be helped.” He threw the weapon over bis shoulder, and strode sullenly away. . ‘*Be sure and clean your rifle after you get home,” Frank called after him. ‘I am afraid the barrel is a little foul.” ‘‘ Ay, ay,” answered the youth, without turn- ing his head, en minutes’ walk through the woods and the adjoining clearing, brought bim to a pretty cottage, which stood somewhat outside the village. Behind it wasa garden, and at a dis- tance a small, but well-tilled farm. A handsome agen Ha lady met him at the door. She. was very plainly dressed, and the look of hope upon her face changed to gloom wee she caught sight of her son’s shadowed ace. “Don’t worry, mother,” he remarked. ‘It is all for the best. I did not win the prize, it is true. But Providence will not desert us.” ‘‘Oh! my poor boy!” cried the widow, ‘ And you, went out with such hopes.” “‘ The wind was against me,” he rejoined. He seated himself languidly on a stool in the porch. Two little girls came from the house, and looked with silent sympathy into his face. ‘* Let me have your gun,” ed the eldest, **T will take it in. } He was roused by this remark, ‘*Mr. Frazer told me te be sure and clean it,” he | said. ‘“‘I don’t know why. Nething ails *“‘ There’s something in it, anyway,” remarked the younger child, who had drawn the and inserted it into the barrel. “ Srp qa in it!” he exclaimed, in a tone of rise. ‘‘ Hew can there be?” — ie struck the muzzle two or three times smartly on the floor. — | “There is nothing comes,” he said. “Yes. Here itis,” cried little Lucy, purexting her slender fingers, and drawing out wha seemed a thick wad of paper. f GComicbooks (ete) -_——<—) — 2S 2 + te OS wR A © FOst} @2oem & smd