Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 263 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

—_—_—_* 2 ee we ee wet ee ne ——————— Deadwood Dick’: fiivide; The Spirit of Swan ap Lake, BY EDWARD L. W 1E#LER, AUTHOR OF ‘ DEADWOOD DICE ’ NOVELS, ‘‘ ROSE- BUD RC! ” NOVELS, 1} rc. , ZTC. CHAPTER. ! SWAMP LAK %, A SUMMER sunset had just aiea out, leaving the gioaming creeping over the earth. At Doomsday’s Ferry, the frogs croaked nois- ily in the swamp that bordered the edges of the sheet of water and gave to it its name—Swamp ake. A queer place it was, just like which few other places existed, and it had a history, too. ——— down in tho rugged mountainous cegion, where the bluffs of four ranges towered above like grim monarchs, and reflected their tree-crowned tops in the water, the lake was one purporting to hold many secrets. It was by crossifig this lake thaf parties who desired to push through the mountains in either direction, saved a roundabout trip of many miles’ distance, as well as much over-mountain travel. By ferrying over Swamp Lake, they were enabled to follow on through the pass without much trouble, Hence had an enterprising mountaineer, named Dan Doomsday, built a huge raft, by the aid of which he could transport vehicles and passengers from one shore to another. Ata dollar a head, therefore, Dan the rst year earned enough to build a more pretentious flat- boat, for the accommodation of his patrons. The distance across the lake was not over three-quarters of a mile, and only the straight route across it was navigable for a large boat, fully two-thirds of the lake being swampy and heavily wooded. Far back into the mountains ran this timbered tract of water, and many were the wild stories told of the experience of those who had at- tempted to explore the gloomy branch-shaded watery corridors—fabulous yarns, for the mos6. part, which no one credited. At the water’s edge, on the eastern side of the mountain-lockea basin, Old Dan had built him’a cabln; while in the immediate vicinity was an- other habitation, over the door of which was the sign: * JACOB SOLOMONS, - Hore, Satoon, Grocery, Post-Orricz, &c.” Solomons was a Jew of a Speculative turn of mind, and located at the Ferry, anticipating that some day a young city would spring up there, and he would be prepared to reap a har- vest. He and Old Dan were the only inhabitants of the embryo settlement, and, therefore, ha each other cordially, neither ever speaking un- less it was a business necessity. The evening alluded to was a balmy one, and Dan and Jacob sat upon their ective door- steps glaring meditatively at each other, while oF puffed silently away at their pipes. e day had d without bringing a single oustomer to the Ferry, sig lg not a penn to the pockets of either Jacob or Daniel, whic was something strange, as travel was generally brisk on account of new discoveries of gold in the bills. But the monotony was not to be left unbroken. When the shadows were beginning to w thick over and about the water, a leavy vehicle of the “ prairie schooner ” order, drawn by four sanmag mules, came through the gap to the rry, asifina wg On the front seat of the wagon a young wo- man was acting in the capacity of driver, and seemed to understand how to handle the reins perfec:ly well, : Old Dan Doomsday, who counted himself a judge of human good and bad looks, at once set he fair Jehu down as a ‘reg’lar stunner” for beauty. In truth she was pretty, and Dan rose from his seat as he tipped his hat, to which Solomons, across the way, responded with a grunt of con- tempt and envy. The fair driver was apparently about eighteen years of age, with a gracefully rounded figure anda face which glowed with the rose-tint of — health. ; ; er mouth was coquettishly pretty; her eyes warkied with spirit; her bebe _ which fell in a Deadwood Dick’s Divide. nied —— wavy shower over her shoulders, was of a nut- rown color, She was plainly yet neatly dressed in a suit of dark gray, and wore a sort of straw sombrero upon ber head, ‘‘ Evenin’ tew ye, miss!” accosted Dan Dooms- day, as he ti his slouch and well-worn felt pe A Got hyar a leetle too late for the ferry, see. ‘“‘Ts that so? Can we not get over the lake to- night?” the girl asked, her face showing her anxiety and disappointment. ‘‘Reckon not, mum, Jest turned in fer the night, ye see, an’ it’s too dark to get across now. Hev to wait till ter-morrer, sure pop! Take ye over ther first thing in the mornin’, but ye see et er safe on them aire waters at night, I tell e ‘‘ Not safe? Why not? Haye you pirates on such a sheet?’ the girl demanded. ‘‘Yas, Yeou jest whacked the nail on the head then, you bet! This hyar ragin’ sheet has got pirates; an’ arter ye put out yer hosses I kin oblige ye wi’ a full description o’ the hull affair. Got any one with ye?” ‘‘Of course—my mother, who is sick!” the girl replied, ‘‘ We are on our way tothe Hern- don mines to join a father. Our name is Laurel—my name is Kate. We would very much like to cross over and continue our jour- ney ey EO sir!” ‘Yas, | presume so, but ye see no amount 0’ money couid induce me to shove ther ferry out at this hour. Et’s a ticklish feelin’ I have around my spine even at day. So I reckon you'll hev ter accept ’commodations at my how- tel ter-night, where ye kin get a good square meal.” “Dot ish ons meestake, mine dear shild!” shouted Solomons, who, from his doorway, bad been anxiously listening to the conversation. ‘‘Dot veller ish von liar, und he sheat you mit your monish oud, He haff noddink to eat but deadt buzzard; but 1 haff de ferry pest in der market, You vant to sdop at der first glass hotel—” ‘‘ Shet up, you sneak of a Jew!” roared Dooms- day. “Ef ye don’t, [ll waltz over thar an’ cram you down your own throat; ye miserable pork-stealer!” ‘* Yankee! “You vash no goot. plackleg every dimes!” With a roar, Dan started toward the saloon, but with a taunting laugh the Jew darted in- side, and slammed the door shut. “Oh! if I ever catch that Dutch thief, Pi mutilate him!” the ferryman muttered, as he returned and helped Kate to uvhitech the mules. When they were pine out to graze, Mrs. —— wag assisted from the wagon into the cabin. She was a middle-aged woman, who showed traces of former beauty, but was now pale and a Yankee!” flung back Solomons. You is a pork-vief und a emaciated from long suffering "with consump-° tion. After she was comfortably arran upon a couch of skius, in the cabin, Old msday roceeded to get supper, in the primitive fash- ion of the frontier, and soon had a relishable ropa’ of roast bear-meat, “ hard-tack” and ee set before his guests, to which. they did justice. ‘Yas. Dan went on to say, as he cleared away the cooking utensils, “ve been keepin’ things a-joggin’ heer now fer two year an’ over, an’ I’ve hed a vile o’ ther ladies relish my cook- in’, but ye! Thet Jew over thar occasionally ketches ‘onto some, but they get sick of livin’ on forks an’ spoons. An’, as fer not takin’ ye across the lake, I'll tell ye. It’s ha’nted /” ** Haunted!” Miss te Laurel exclaimed, contemptuously. ‘Oh! macige 7 “No fudge erbout it, I tell ye! It’s ha’nted jest as sure as my name is Old Dan Doomsday —not ha’nted wi’ superstitious imaginations, but wi’ genuine bony-fide Sten ate laughed beartily at the idea, while Mrs. Laurel turned pale with apprehension. ‘Well, now, I'd just like to see a real ghost, I would!” the girl declared. ‘‘Iain’ta bitofa coward, and I ia love any thing romantic like gbosts and the like.” ‘‘ Bet ye ye wouldn’t say that, ef ye war ter git skeered by one o’ the infernal critters once!” Dan protested, with earnestness. ‘‘ But I'll tell ye the story an’ then you'll ses fer yourself that thar’s somethin’ curious about the matter. Did ye ever hearn tell of the chap w’at used ter be so much talked about, up nor’-west, an’ who called hisself Deadwood Dick?” Kate Laurel uttered an exclamation of sur- prise. ‘“‘ Why, indeed, I have!” she replifed. “I've a ean ein re read much of his daring acts, and have some- times almost fancied myseif in love with him,” and she laughed merrily. ‘‘Humph!” and Old Doomsday shrugged his shoulders. ‘‘Ye must be a queer piece, that’s yer taste. Why, most gals faint at men- tion of his name. But, beer’s ther story, sech as it is, an’ I hope ye won’t hev ther night-hosa, through heerin’ it: ‘* Waal, Is’pose you’ye hearn tell ther pranks, or many of ’em, what thet aire dare-devil cut up, but byar’s ther latest. Ei war jest abouta year ABO, that he come byar to my ferry, one night like you kim to-night, an’ wanted me ter tote him over. Td just tied up, an’ told him I couldn’t shove out again till mornin’, pobow, at which he got narvous, and offered me a bi pile o’ rocks ter put him on t/other side, but couldn’t see ther pint. © , ‘‘ Ye see, once on a time, up in ther hills, the galoot cleaned out’a stage “I war on, an’ tuk every cent I had, but the’ I remembered him and made up my mind to not favor him, he knew nothin’ of me. ‘““Waal, seein’ be couldn’t git across, he concluded to wait till mornin’, tho’ I could see that he war as nervous asa hen on a hot grid- dle, an’ evidently expectin’ some one. ‘‘He had a hoss with bim, packed up as ef he war goin’on a long journey, and be picketed that cluss ter ther shore, as if he war anxious ter be off, ther fust thing in the qreeg ‘‘I tried ter query out what ther difickelty was, but it warn’t mo use; he was a8 mum asa mice. I reckoned thar was somethin’ the rum- pogeaiente officers after him—an’ resolved not o help bim off, till mornin’ nohow, ** And about ten o’ clock, when ther moon war jest peepin’ over ther range, an’ we war settin’ out o’-doors, nigh to the boat, we heard ther clatter o’ horses’ f. et, an’ Deadwood Dick sprung to his feet, oe ‘**Tts just as expertade he cried, ‘the devils aire after me. I'll give you a thousand | dollars, old man, to get me over that lake.’ ‘*] shook my head, and told him I warn’t goin’ ter get myself inter trouble. “*Then may the curse of Deadwood Dick rest upon you and this place forever,’ be cried, fiercely. ‘Do you see that horse? Upon itisa bundred thousand dollars in gold. The man who heads the wolves you hear approaching, was my partner in a big find. A week ego we finished our work, and made a division.” Not content with his own share, the rascal would take my part of the divide from me, assisted as he is by. a pack of human wolves. Before he shall do that, I will sink the divide in the mid- dle of yon lake, and haunt every person who thereafter crosses the water by night!’ “ Jeminy! but thet ar’ feller war in dead earn- est, too, e bit me a sudden soaker in the bazoo, that nearly stood me on my head, an’ leapin’ onto ther horse, he spurred it straight inter ther lake!” The old man stopped then, and stroked bis grizzl beard a moment at the same time nod- ing his head, grimly. ‘““What then?” Kate asked, with apparent in- terest. “Waal, ye might know!” Doomsday said. ‘‘No man could éver swim across that Ee on hoss-back, an’ durned few kin do it alone, wi their togson, you bet! Waal, inter ther lake went Deadwood Dick an’ his an’ ye can bet ther animile swum beautiful till it got nigh about half-way across; then hoss.an’ rider went down. Since then—” He looked at a clock on the mantle, and then arose and went to the window. ‘‘Come here!” he gasped, a minute later. Kate Laurel arose and approached the win- dow, and her gaze followed the course indicated y y's fager. Out U the lake the moonlight was fallin with brilliant radiance, giving a rather spectra effect to every object upon which it rested. Near the center of the lake opposite the ferry, a small canoe drifted; standing upright in it was a man whose figure was clad In a flowing robe of white—a man with long hair and mus- tache, but whose-eyes were closed and whose face was nearly as white as the robes wrapt about him. CHAPTER II. A YEAR‘*LATER. Just one year later—summer again made fragrant and balmy the breezes, and added rich een to~all the grass, trees and shrubs that ined the mountain side. A year is a long la of time, when ‘con- sidered by days and hours, and often brings many changes in places and events. books Hie (E(O)