Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 296 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

. | De OS SES ares gf eee eo ee eee ee mania Hreshet Wlats had yet beer able to tap hing on the nose, and there were some fellows among the hardy miners, who had a deal of science in the fistic art. Arizona Alf looked the challenger over fora moment, critically, and noted two facts. La Force was trimly, compactly, and muscularly built—then, his every natural movement <lenoted a quickness that is especially desirable to a boxer; but these facts did not in the least disconcert the Arizonian, ‘‘ Consider me your pupil, then,” he answered, ‘‘and let’s get at the lessons!” La Feree threw off his coat and vest in an instant, and rolled up his sleeves. Alf leaned agaiust the counter, making no move to dis- robe, A ring was hastily chalked out on the floor, and when the gambler signified his readiness, the two athletes confronted each other. Resolve gleamed in each eye—it was plainly destined to be a battle of two masters, CHAPTER IL ~ THE LONE ROBBER AND A SCIENTIFIC “ SET-TO.” ** Har!” Sharp and stern rung out the challenge, sounding above the noise occasioned by the coach-wheels, as the clumsy vehicle tore along down through a deep mountain gulch, drawn by six good horses. Not only did Buck Bradley, the driver, hear the challeoge, but he saw a person standing in the trail just ahead, with a rifle leveled toward the coach. ‘‘ Halt, or Pll fire!” came the command avain and so wer tel that the veteran Jehu jerked his horses back upon their haunches. The road-agent, who was dressed in good clothes, including top-boets and a plumed slouch hat, and a mask upon the smooth face, advanced, keeping his rifle ready for instant eee ise. **Get down off from your box!” he ordered, addressing Bradley. “If you don’t, you're a dead man!” Buck had confronted these officious gents of the road more than once during his career, and had learned that it wag safest to obey their commands; so he leaped to the ground, and awaited further orders. “Tell your passengers to pile out!” the bandit next ordered, Bradley flung open the coach door. ‘* Dust our, you passengers!” he cried. ‘‘ Thar’s a feller out beer wi’ a sixteen-shot battery as wants tosee ye. No monkeyin’, now, ner kick- in’, but pile right out!” Following this significant hint three men growlingly clambered out of the coach. One was a short, broad-shouldered man, with a tremendous stomach and a fat face of rather sour, disagreeable appearance. The next was a *‘swell” in a checkered suit, fresh kids, soft hat snd eye-glass—a milk-com- plexioned party, with attenuated legs, a hooked nose, and flaxen side-whiskers, The third and '«st to leave the stage wasa bouncing negro, as black as jet, who evidently belonged to the old gent of the bir corporosity. The trio halted in line as they left the coach, and their strong contrast of appearance pro- voked a dry laugh from the road-agent, who had now drawn a revolver and slung his rifle to his back. ry Well, this is a healthy-looking haul, I must remark!” he said. ‘Best you can scare up, driver? Get in 4 line, there—that’s right, now. Nothing like order, you know. Throw up your hands, every mother’s son of you!” ‘‘Vot der duyfel you means?” the fat party demanded. “ Dis vas von oudrage!” ‘* You bet!” the road-agent averred. “I am ted Star. the road-runner, and I want your money. Hands up, if you don’t want to get salivated!” The command was obeved. Nathan Blob, the wealthy Jew, sputtered and cursed furiously, but the negro and the swell were too much frightened to speak; and, as Jehu Bradley had no money, he did not care so much. Keeping the revolver ready in his left hand, Red Star was not long in effectually disarming all hauds and flinging their weapons into the bushes beside the trail, ‘Now, then!” he said, holding forth his hat, ‘just you toss out your money! I don’t care for jewelry—just the simple spondulicks. And remember, I'm only borrowing this for a few days, wher it will be return cent!” ‘‘Guess you're runnin’ a new racke Buck declared, with a chuckle, “ don’t geverally do bizness om that plan.” to you, cent for then,” -ageuts Denver Doll’s Drift. -_ — oe mee ee ee ww ae ee . “All are not alike, sir, Come! pass ou}, gents!” ‘* Py tam, dish ish von pig oudrage ” old Blob cried. ‘‘I haff no monish. I giff yon no monish {” ‘You lie, you old gold-grabber! the :.an to travel without money, and don’t you forget it. I know who you are, Blobsy—so just you pan out, or Pil put a buzzer in your noddle that’ll be worse’n tho’ a mule had kicked you!” Blob showered invectives upon the road-agent fraternity, and swore dire vengeance on them, winding up by dropping a pocket-book into Red — hat, and then scrambling back into the coach, “You can go, too!” Red Star said to the negro. ‘‘Who are you, dandy, and what are you going to contribute?” '** My name is Apollo Snap, and | have noth- ing to give!” the swell faintly articulated. **Plense Jet me cif for | have nothing to spar.” ° “\v ll, dash me, if you ain’t a cool one. Lookee bere, baby, you shell out, or PU blow the muzzie off from you!” “The what?” Apollo demanded. ‘Yer muzzle—you’re fronticepiece—your mug. None o’ your sniveling now, but give me your pocket-book, before I drop you.” Looking more frightened than before, the swell obeyed, and then hastened to seek the pro- tection of the coach. ‘‘ Reckon that will do, now!” Red Star said, giving a sbrill whistle, which brought a hand- some saddle horse to his side, ‘* You can tell the citizens of Fresbet Flats that Red Star sends his kindest regards!” The next instant he was in the saddle and flying down the gulch. Bradley then mechanically mounted the ‘‘hearse,” and followed on toward Freshet Flats, highly elated that the first gk pe on that trail had been attended by no blood- shed. At Jim Fisk’s grocery, in Freshet Flats, the excitement was intense, and, yet, the silence pro- found, as the two athletes stood confronting each otker. The following instant, however, the silence was broxen by a sudden and resounding whack, which struck the gambler on the forehead, causing him to stagger back. It was a shoulder blow which the Avenger of Joaquin had struck, and would have lifted any ordinary man off his feet. ‘Curse you, l was off my guard, then!” the gambler yelled, coming to time with an effort. ‘“That’s not my fault,” Alf replied, good- naturedly. “If you don’t want to get a sun- downer, you'd better be on guard, then.” For a few minutes they indulged in a little sparring, then, as See as a thunder-clap, a blow from the iron fist of the Avenger caught La Force under the nose and seut him spinning backward. Directly behind him was a large dram wood- stove, in which was a hot fire. The capacious door chanced to be open, and as he staggered and fell backward, the head plunged into the opening of the nace. A ery of horror went up. The force of his fall knocked over the stove, by which his head escaped from the fiery pit, but nob until his bair was in a blaz. For an instant the spectators seemed stu —all except Arizona Alf, who, with almost lightning quickness, pulled off his jacket and wra ont it over the unfortunate’s head. But, though the flames were smothered quick- ly, the better part of La Force’s hair bad been singed down to the very scalp. owls of pain escaped him, but as there was & prospect that the shanty would catch fire, he was dragged out of doors, where several sym- pathizers proceeded to dress his wounds. Arizona Alf, after reviewing the operations for a few minutes, turned and sauntered away, CHAPTER III. DENVER DOLL AFLOAT. At midnight Freshet Flats’ as ming den, the Satanello, usually held its largest pd and te-night was no exception to the rule, The room was overflowing in wer part, and various games were going on, while drunken revelry prevailed; but one of the sorriest-looking objects in the room was Jean La Force, who presided behind the bar, with head bandaged in every part except bis face, and an expression of ugly ill-humor upon that. The Satanello was jointly owned by him and You’re not ambler’s ery fur- fled i, + ‘A 8 ae Oe eee eee ee oe er ed me ote ee o- 8 eee ee a fellow named Blye, who was engaged in at- tending to the games, Few of the audience made any audible re- marks about La Force’s misfortune, for a couple of cocked revelvers lay on the shelf back of the bar, and they knew he was in a capital humor to use them at slight provocation. Although every person in the room was watch- ing some game or other, or engaged in conver- sation, it might have been noticed that they of- ten glanced at the clock behind the bar and then toward the door. When La Force looked at the clock a devilish smile of triumph would pass over his face. At eleven o’ciock Denver Doll was to have re- deemed ber mortgage, It was now after twelve, and it was distinctly stated in the agreement that only two hours’ grace should be given, under any circumstances. The crowd in the Satanello were to a man ac- quainted with the facts, and hence their manifest interest, A quarter of onecame. But fifteen minutes did Denver Doll now have, to redeem her mine. If one o'clock struck, and she had not ap- eared, it was at La Force’s option whether to © et her redeem the Drift property or not. ‘*A thousand dollars to a cent, that Denver Doll’s Drift is mine!” he cried, from bebind the bar, as five minutes to one came, and the detec- tive queen had not shown herself. * All that wants to take the bet, step up!” Evidently no one in the room was flush with their stamps. Four minutes to one! Peter Paque, the only lawyer in the camp, mounted one end of the bar, holding a legal- looking document in his hand. He was a pinched, shriveled-up little man, with the sharp features and general a ance of a scamp, and ’twas said of him that he was not at all serupulous as to how he made money. ‘Gents, at one o’clock, I foreclose the mort- gage held by Jean La Force, against the Denver Doll mine. The full extent of grace will have expired, with the striking of yonder clock, and I do announce to you all jthat the mortgage is then lewfully foreclosed. Enough said!” Two minutes lacking of one o’clock! The games had stopped Every map stood facing the bar, with strange, eager expressions of countenance, their gaze riveted upon the face of the clock, toward which the finger of Jean La Force pointed, like a menace. Dead silence reigned, only the low tick of the time-piece breaking the silence, One minute to one) What an eternity to some—what a loss to others might the wp ey of the clock signify? Tick! tick! tick! tick It scarcely seemed that a muscle of the hu- man beings in the room, stirred, so absorbed were they—even the expressions of the motley array of faces was changed into a sort of anxious pallor. Ting! It was over! 7 The hour wos struck, and according to con- tract, Denver oll’s Drift belonged to Jean La Foree. Hark! P Every ear turns toward the door—every face expresses eagerness, and some disappointment combined with eagerness—all but one, That face expresses malicious exultance, It is the face of Jean La Force, But why the eagerness? A furious clatter of horse’s hoofs is heard ap- proaching. The horse dashes up to the door, Some one leaps off! Tho door is burst open! Denver Doll, the queen of detectives, and » loo tater girl sport in the West, enters with a rush, ‘‘T redeem that mortgage!” she cries, with a glance at tke clock. ‘* Young woman, you are just one minute too late!” the voice of Peter Paque replies. ‘The mortgage is already foreclosed. The Drift be- longs to Mr, Jean La Force, and all the courts of law in Christendom cannot take it away from him.” “ Do you refuse to accept back the money I borrowed, and return me, the paper?” the girl demanded, turning her flashing eyes upon orce. ‘* Most assuredly!” he answered, with a mock- ing smile. | ‘Then, may the curse of Denver Doll rest upon you and that mine until it is restored to me!” she cried, backing toward the door, | | 9100