Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 321 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

‘ How am I to know? You are at the bottom of it, of course.” ‘* No! honor bright. It wouldn’t avail me to ove you up to the law until I work you awhile. ee And he grinned triumphantly. “* Curses seize you!” Blye gasped. ‘Thank you; but they never take — to me! I’m too much for’em., And now, as it is, you see what there is to do.” ‘* What?” ‘‘ Firstly, take me candidly into partnership, and whack up even. Secondly, marry me tothe ‘“* Sheis not here!” ‘* You are lying.” ‘‘ No. She is in the power of Black Bob, the bandit.” ‘‘Wuries! This is bad. But she can be re- covered. You have my proposal. I await your answer.” ‘* What do you want?” ‘* Half _of the haul—six thousand dollars. That will do, for the first. Next I want half out of’ what you make by coming here to this camp!” ** What do you mean?” * You know—so dol. Sufficient be that, for now. Next, I want the girl.” ‘* Then, what?” ‘You can depend that your secrets are for- ever buried, so far as I am concerned!” “ And if I refuse?” A faint smile lit up Sbrimp’s face. ‘‘ If you refuse, eh? Well, you see the burly chap over yonder, who looks like a prairie pi- rt Ves, = ‘(Pll hand you over to him, You'll get’a free ride back to V. C.” ' é Well, I'll think the matter over, by morn- ing. wil pour You are kind. You bave five y minutes,, onder clock, A word will fetch Leonzo, the deputy !” A desperate gleam was in the speculator’s eyes, but he knew to his ‘des there was no t least none until another time. ‘“* Give me the letter®, and b2re’s the money,” he said. “ You’vye got the grip, and [ll en ‘“T’ll take the money now; you'll get the pa- , after the girl’s mine. By the way, ara we to join issues in bleeding yoursnobby New York- er ' ) ‘*'Yes, if you must have a hand in,” ‘* How is it to be done?” ‘‘ Tl) deliberate upon a plan. First, we must ! Agnes, and you must keep in the back- groun'—that is, make no interference—until we sce him well.” * Right. Umno fool. Ill not push my suit, _ and we are strangers in his presence—see? It will work better. If you use me square, Boston Blye, I will you, and you shall have the papers. If you make a trickish move, I'll hand the ‘papers to the sleuth that is coming here to see ; “pl be e. Here’s the money.” . had been dividing the,contents of a large of bills. - Shrimp seized his share eagerly, and counted Correct!” he said, arising. ‘“ About that matter { hinted at—when you get it under way, why, we'll talk it over. See about the girl Good-night!” although forced to yield to this self- rogue, Captain Blye felt relieved when he 5 He then Tot the saloon and returned to the ' to blame but himself, and made up his mind to | get out of bis gy as best he could. ‘Hello, boys, how are you?’ he saluted. ‘* Glad to see you. How’s all the folks, and what d’ye want?’ One of the number stepped closer to.Dick’s side, and went through a series of motions of the mute lan e, ‘** Hello! _ So Ps not gifted with that great accomplishment—gab!” Dick said. ‘‘ Let one o’ yer gang speak.” ; The leader motioned to indicate that the re- ee eleven were also mutes., Dick then took a closer look at them, and the result was astonishment. Twelve there were, and each man dressed from top to toe in black; all were of a hight, uearly of a weight, and the same might be as- sumed of their ages, Here the strange likeness did not end. They were men probably forty years of age, and while their dress was alike, so was their facial appearance. Twelve closer counterparts would indeed have been the work of a lifetime to find. Each man had a dusky, rather wildly-hand- some face, dark eyes, long jetty hair, falling over broad shoulders, and graceful mustaches waxed out to a straight point from the lips. Their slouched broad-brims sported plumes, and altogether, a more fantastic party it had never been Dick’s fortune to encounter. ‘* Well, by guns, here’s a go!” he mused. “A dozen brothers, evidently, and not a vocabula- tor among them, Shouldn’t wonder if they'd like me to pan out my looseshekels, Unfortun- ately I haven’t but a single gold eagle. Hello, Cap! Just sing out, what’s the diffikilty?”’ The leader went through another series of motions, and pointed toward the but, ‘‘Want me to go thar, do ye?’ Dick said. ‘¢ Well I reckon I'll bave to oblige, since you are inclined to be persuasive.” He slid from the saddle, and seizing him, arm in arm, the leader led him toward the but, whose only door was a curtain of tanned skins, The remainder of the party did not follow, Within the but, which contained but one apartment, was considerable space, A fire of wood burned near the center. Seated by this, was a man in rags, for his garments were nothing else, He looked to be very old, for his long hair and huge beard were as white as snow, and what little of his face was exposed from under the beard was deeply wrinkled. | He trembled in every joint, from long shat- tered nerves, probably, and his eyes had lost the fire of their youth. Yet he looked up quickly, as the damb guide pushed Dick into the hut, and nodded, motion- ing Dick to a seat near the fire. he guide then retired. | Dick did not become seated, but stood with hat in band, awaiting the issue. “Do A he want me, sir?’ he demanded; “for if not, I have business elsewhere.” ‘‘T want you, of course, or should not have sent for you. You were not long on your jour- ney here.” 4 ‘‘ How do you know, pray?” “6 enough, I knew when you left Vir- ginia City, toa moment. Do you see that?’ He pointed to a small table in one corner. A wire came into the hut through a crevice, and was attached to a telegraph instrument upon the table. ‘‘ That brings me news,” the old man chuckled. ‘‘ Whatever news comes to the Flats, comes to me.” ‘‘Then it is known at the Flats that I am com- ing there?” , CHAPTER IIL % Yes.” = “By whom?” A STORY OF THE PAST-—THE DUMB DOZEN. “Captain Boston Blye, for one; Poker Kate Nor more than a mile below Phantom Flats, | for es dn the gulch, was an old tumble-down hut or “Who is Poker Kate?” lodge, built _— of skins, ly of sticks, ‘«‘ Postmistress and operator, at the Flats.” stones, thatchings of and bits of bark. “Who sent the news from Virginia City?” In fact, it that at the time it was| ‘Some conf of Blye’s. built, anything and everything was inits| ‘* You seem to know this Blye.” construction which could help to make ithcom-| “Ifancy Ido! That is, I used to.” place of habitation. And the old man looked menacingly at the It stood pretty securely hidden under the | fire shade of a\clump of balsams, and not every passer-by would have noticed it. To reach Phantom Flats, Deadwood Dick had to pass this place; but he was riding musingly along, and paying little attention to his sur- round when his horse was ee eae pi tpndigs that a dozen men surrounded him, each one of whom held a goodly-sized pistol lev- _ It was a genuine surprise; but he had no one Jewel, Maybe they are right—maybe e ot gold nuggets enough to ballast a railroad. Fis mine, ain't it?” “Pm old Jewel, the hermit,” he went on, “and for years I’ve been so. I lived in this gulch and no one knew of it, long before the gold came, They re me as an old crony of the Evil One, and tell about the heaps of I’ve hid away, where no one can find it. Hel he! that’s what they say about Ah v Deadwood Dick’s Dozen. ' rr a em on oe we we ee oe re om - ———_ - eee Se eee —_-+--- — ‘So | should suppose,” Dick answe~ed quietly, although he was beginning to grow curious. ‘‘Of course. Pipo! Pipo!” the hermit fairly sbrieked. In answer to the call, from a box in under « bench in one corner, there emerged a large and exceedingly ugly-looking baboon, who whiske forward, eying Dick suspiciously. “The nugget, Pipo—the nugget!” old Jewe) cried, sharply, and away went the animal out of the hut, like a streak. Dick was wondering where he was gone, w ben he came back and laid a buge vugget of gold at Dick’s feet. Huge, because it was solid gold, and larger than a goose egg! ‘“That’s a specimen,” the hermit chuckled— ‘jest asample. Don’t wonder they’re envious of me, hey, at the Flats! No wonder they send assassins to kill me; meats and goodies to p’izen me, Ho! ho! Pipo isa judge! It’s a ccmmon remark in the camp, ‘Jewel is getting weaker and weaker; be can’t last long; then we'll get a whack of bis millions.’” ‘But you have your singular dozen of pro- tectors?” ‘‘Tf I were tocall upon them, perbaps. Do you know, they’re queer ‘uns: you an’ I are the ovly ones that ever saw ’em, though the other settlers bave heard rumors of their existence. No one sees them by day—not even I. They hover over these parts, by night. But of them, later. Would you like to hear how to make a fortune?” ‘‘T don’t know. Possibly.” “Then listen. Perhaps you may be aware of the fact that Boston Blye is a rascal?” ‘* Well?” ‘‘He comes here to Phantom Flats to drive me to the wall. He i: a bad wan. He means ‘S extort from me the secret of the hiding: place 0 j “Tndeed! You surely would not allow him to do that ?” ‘‘T cannot help myself. He has a lever upon me by which he can twist me at will, unless I have help. I want you to help medefeat this arch-villain. I am an old man, nearing the grave—au old man in trouble, but not old in years, Will you help me out, and do what you can to baffle the schemes of Boston Blye?” “Tf I find him to be the man you intimste oucan relyonme. Itisa part of my business to work against such rascals.” “J amso aware. I have heard of many of your deeds, and your spirit is a counterpart of my own. Pil convince you as to what sort of a man Boston Blye is. Jl tell you a little story. ‘Years ago Boston Blye and I were brothers and clerks in a large banking-house in Boston, of which he takes his name. ‘From early ya I had been a faithfu servant, and at the age of twenty-two had ained the position of cashier, and had secured for Blye a position as bookkeeper. We were bosom’ chums, and although 1 wedded the gn for whom we were rivals, be never appesred to be less than a warm friend to me, until the blow came. ‘‘T received a fair salary, and lived in good circumstances, but of course was a tittle wild and gambled a little, drank a little and belonged to a club. Boston Blye was my inseparable companion. Least of all men did I think he would ever turn on me. But it came at last. My father, the president of the bank, lay at the point of death, and a great deal of conjecture was made as to bow he would leave bis Jarge wealth—Boston and I being the only direct heirs. The banking affairs were left almost wholly to my charge at that particular time, and a great robbery occurred. I was arrested, but Boston bailed me out; then | hid away from society until my trial should come. My fatber died and cut me off. ton came regu- larly to see me; once he stayed away for vB. Lal then be came and told me that my wife had secured a divorce and ed an old enemy of mine, William Roberts. It infuriated me when he told me Roberts abused my two- year-old child; he guided me to my residence, where I bad not been for months, Through an open window I saw the devil seated in the par- lor reading, and without thinking of the conse- quences I shot him dead. Boston then smuggled meaway. The city was made to bowl in the search for mé, I was told, for I kept too closely bid to learn anything myself, Finally, Boston showed his fangs, He said he was of qpesesiot in the robbery, and that I was in his | ; if I re to write a full confession hat I alone had robbed the bank and killed Roberts, and also was guilty of several other conr > ~tuttiten Ml all as ee. ee f=. Md a NOOKS COM