Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 339 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

10 few lessons in the manly art, and in the begin- ning, it was pretty hard to form an opinion which would score the victory. Both were very fairly matched, in point of size, weight and apparent strength, and the in- dications were, that there would be a very equal contest. “Ther pools is open, gents!” Kit sung out. ‘‘Now’s yer chance to make yer bets, while ther track isin good condition! Ten ter eight, heer, thet the sorrel hoss wins!” Every one seemed too much interested, how- ever, to indulge in betting upon the probable result. The blows of the two men gradually became more business-like, and it was easy to see that they meant to put in a “teller” when oppor- tunity first afforded. . Lawton Leech was first to make a successful it. His fist shot forth suddenly, with a ven- geance, and caught Milton on the left eye, the force of the blow being tremendous, for it landed the unfortunate poet upon the ground some distance away, ‘‘Hurra! first heat fer black hoss—sorrel dis- tanced!” cried Kit. ‘‘Time!” Milton slowly arose, and pressed his hand over his eye, as if it pained, “Oh! Byron, are you badly burt?” cried Mai from the doorway. ‘ Piease come Inside, and don’t fight any more.” “Oh! no!” Milton replied, with a laugh, ‘‘That was nothing—merely an accident!” ‘“Durned ef he ain't got the grit of a grid- iron!” Kit mused. ‘‘ She called him Byron, too! They’re gettin’ as sweet an’ thick as ther ‘lasses in the bottom of a hogshead, Milty, he’s got blud in one eye, now—an’ black on t’other. So look out fer yerself, my bully Leech! Time’s up, gents!” he added, aloud, Once more the two men faced each other, Leech looking triumphant, Milton stern. It was no child’s play now. Thick and fast fell the blows, and as if pos- sessed of sudden fury, Milton managed to plant nearly every other blow full in his opponent’s face, while Leech could not get in a telling blow, the best he could do. ‘‘Put anose on the poet, will you?’ Milton cried, his wind apparently as good as in the start, while Leech panted like a hounded fox. ‘111 show you the retura compliment. Take that!” And he dealt the speculator a whack between the eyes, that would have felled an ox, mucif less a man. Lawton Leech went down, all in a heap, and did not stir afterward. He was fairly knocked out. Milton laughed, dryly, ard turned to the crowd, “T guess youcan take your friend back to camp, gents. I don’t believe be will want any more to-night. If he does, just come down and awaken me!” He turned then, and entered the cabin, and the door was closed, Lawton Leech was then raised, and borne to his shanty by several miners, who sympathized gad with him to see him oioperty cared or. ‘One rival knocked out of the field, anyhow!” Kit muttered, as he went back to the Olympic. ‘‘Thet Milton is a pummeler, an’ as I don’t keer toshare Leech’s fate, I shall have to get onto him in some other way. ‘Ther coast looks scaly fer my ever gettin’ Mai, thet is sure ‘ preechin’,” Several days passed — seven, in all—and wrought great changes in Played-Out camp, The new mines had been shown to the stock- holders, Kit having disposed of all but his own reserve of stock, and the greatest excitement and enthusiasm prevailed, for the yield of the lode or pocket, when fully developed, promised to exceed the most sanguine expec:ations, The hotel was done, fully equipped, and packed with guests, The town was swarming with new arrivals; shanties and tents had gone up, or were going up, by the dozen, and every foot of ground for miles around the new city was being prospected. It was indeed a mining boom in earnest, and a strong force of men were working night and day at opening the Bricktop mine. But where is this mine? In order to fully explain we shall need to make a retrogression in the main thread of our atory, which may prove as acceptable here as elsewhere. A couple of days before his arrival in Played- Out, Kit was riding through a wild mountain : | ae | mh ’ eet es. ‘e A lié - a: “it + ws . Kangaroo Kit’s Racket. gorge, five or six miles south of Played-Out, when he suddenly rounded a bend and came upon a scene that aroused his indignation. A burly, wolfish-looking ruffian was battling with an aged and decrepit hag, whose hair was white and tangled, and garments a mass of rags and patches, The hag was keeping the ruffian at bay by | desperately wielding a sort of staff she carried, but it was evident her strength was fest failing, Drawing his revolver, Kit blazed away at tie | ruffian, who at once took to flight, most likely from the fact that the bullet had crippled his right arm. When Kit rode up to the old woman he was overwhelmed with thanks, and was surprised to find that she had at one time been a lady of good edueation. § 1e pressed Kit to accompany her to her cave habitation in the mountains, and as night and a fierce storm were coming on, he accepted the invitation, While en route, tbe old woman, who gave her name as Martha, explxined that she was alone, and bad so been for years, On arrival at the cave, Kit found it to bea real cosey place of abode, Martha prepared a tempting meal of venison and root tea, and Kit did full justice to it, While making his toilet before the repast, he had rolled up his sleeves, and the hermitess saw upon his left arma peculiar red mark which looked as though it might have been burnt there, in the shape of a fizure 3. Gazing at it strangely for a moment, the wo- mun suddenly dropped upon her knees, and seemed to be uttering a silent prayer, Kit was astonished, but withheld his curiosity as well as be could. When Martba arose, she said: ‘‘Did J act strangely? If so, pardon me. I have such spells, occasionally.” Kit was not satisfied that it wasa “spell,” but he did not really like to say so. [t struck him as being very curious that this strange woman should be so suddenly affected by the red mark on his arm, After supper she said: ‘“You are a nice boy. I am sure of it, and I can do well by you, Where are you going?” ‘‘T thought some of taking in Thunderville!” he answered. ‘* Bah! don’t go there, Out! Will you?” ‘‘ Well, I suppose I might, if there’s anything in it.” ‘There is a fortune in it for you.” sé No!” ‘“‘T say yes. wild West?” ‘*Oh, knocking around, get a chance to use this.” And turning up the collar of his jacket he ex- posed a detective’s badge. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure. ‘‘ Capital!” she cried; ‘‘ it could not be better. What do you think of these?” She brought a willow basket, containing a dozen or more large nuggets of gold! ‘‘ Beauties, ain’t they?’ she chuckled. ‘‘ Now I am getting well on toward my grave, and gold is nothing t. me. You are a nice young man; JT know you; but don’t ask me about yourself now, It’s a long, long story, and you shall eventually know it. But first of all— business! How would you like to own @ mine of gold that would make you rich for life?” “Waal, I might rope it in, providing 1 got it on the square!” Kit declared, ‘* You are honest, then?” ‘‘Ginerally try to be, 1 reckon.” ‘‘Good idea. Would to God everybody was the same,” Then she was silent for a moment. ‘Yes, it can be arranged; now listen; Years upon years ago tlere lived in the South a rich family. This family had a confidential servant who, in turn, had a wife, I speak briefly, be- cause a few words will convey my Meaning. “This servant’s name was Paul Vermilye, and he was, by nature born, the veriest wretch that ever lived. His wife was a pretty and re- fined girl, but he treated her, efter they were a year married, on the same principle as a slave- master treats his slaves —like a bru'e, Not long after their marriage, say two years, Paul became enamored of an orpbap girl, who, with her baby brother, was the beiress of a fortune. Resolved to marry her, at all hazards, he took his own trusting wife on a pleasure-trip, and murdered her. At least, he supposed he did, aud does not know to the contrary, to this day. “Tt seems that he had succeeded in accom- plishing the ruin of this other girl, named You stop at Played- What are you doing here in the Once in a while I : Marion Mancill, and had, as he calculated, that hold upon her. But there cams a crash—the trustee of the Mancill estate had embezzled ard incumbered both money and other property, and then absconded—and Marion was literally Vermilye now refused to marry her, a beggar, Vermilye and the poor girl comn.itted suicide, then fled the State. ‘*} might take up another thread of a strange tale au this point, but will wait, till anotaer time. ‘“Vermilye’s wife did not die. After a long’ time, she recovered. She never forgot the at-' tempt he made to suffocate her, with pillows, in the St. Charles Hotel, at New Orleans. She swore revenge. She tracked bim everywhere, waicing for the time tocome. Jt hus come, now!” ‘‘What! are you, then, his wife?” Kit cried, in astonishment. ‘‘Tam—lam Ellen Vermilye, formerly Paul Vermilye’s wife—for, do you suppose I would own that wretch for a busband? Oh, no!” ‘¢T should ker-smile not!” Kit agreed, ‘“ Well, to proceed,” pursued the hermitess: ‘Paul Vermilye lives in Played-Out. He owns a tract of land on which this gold-mine [| speak of, is located. He has no idea the mine exits, but hangs on tothe cleim with dogged persistency. He will not sell it. He is @ drunken vagabond. That tract must belong to you—do you near, to you!” ‘‘ How so? I wouldn’t care to get it, by dis. honesty.” “You need not. It isas much mine as it is his. You areto getit, sure. If be refuses to sell it to you, you can force bim to sell it to you, by threatening to give him up tothe law. D’ye see?” ‘‘T reckon I tumble to the racket. But is it square and honest?” ‘It is. He is a sot, carries him furtber down to destruction. mine shall be yours!” All night they conversed, and compared notes and plans, The next day Kit took leave, and in due time arrived in Played-Out, Martha had told him V rmilye went under the assumed name of Roth Roulere. But, she had failed to mention Mai. CHAPTER IX. HOW KIT SCORED A TEN-STRIKE, Two days after the fight between Byron Mil- ton and Lawton Leech, Kit Bricktop sat in bis private office in the new hotel, pondering over some plans he had in view, and considering that be must at once get old Roulere into his power, in order that he could open the mine when there came a clumsy rap at the door, an it was opened by old Roulere himself, who en- tered at a rather unsteady gait. An expression of disgust shot athwart Kit’s features. “Shut the door and sit down!” be ordered, sharply. ‘* What do you want?’ = Ye needn’t be so sassy!” the bummer grunt- ed, getting into a chair, finally. ‘I ain’t no bug-bear that will bite ye. Ner old Roulere ain’t drunk to-day, either. D’ye know the rea- son why?’ ‘* Because you have no collat’ to get whisky with. eh?” ‘No. I’ve got a few bits left, but Fred won’t sell rae nothin’.” ‘‘Correct, That’s according to my orders. I wan’t you to sober up, Roulere. Tve got something to say to you,” Be E hev? About the gal, [ suppose ?” “No!” and Kit frowned. He had met Mai but ovce since the fight, and then she barely nodded to him, ‘It’s concerning yourself, Roulere.” “Oh! That’s a different thing. I thort ef twas about the gal, twern’t no use at all—no use at all! She’s dead gone on the poet. Jest see’d ‘em awhbile ago, up gulch, on a flowery knoll, She was lookin’ over bis shoulder, an’ he was reading poetry to her!” Kit compressed bis lips, to keep from saying something be ought nof. “What do you suppose I care about their affairs?’ be demanded. “It’s business I’m looking to. Roulere, I want to buy your claim?’ | ‘“Yedo? What fer?’ “To get more building spec. for one thing, and besides. | think the sand ight pan out a few dollars.” *“*] won’t sell, “Why not?’ ‘* Because I won't.” “But, look here, You are poor, and getting Every farthing he gets, That That settles that!” k (eo) boo Aire