Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 339 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

ose. a. a a? 4 * od to. 4 . -” ‘ ~ a . a ‘ a a. , “| ad - ; ; 4 sta - is Me r 7 4 y ~ . * . a a - ~ ~ ' 4 Kangaroo Kits Racket: The Pride of Played-Out. BY E. L. WHEELER, AUTHOR OF THE ‘‘ DEADWOOD DICK” NOVELS; -THE *‘ROSEBUD ROB ’ NOVELS, ETC., ETG., ETC. CHAPTER I. A TRAGEDY—ALMOST, PLAYED-OUT! A suggestive title, speaking volumes for many a poor gold-seeker, who bad come, and one. - The place was not a modern Eldorado, nor had itever been. The report of the discovery of gold had drawn hither a borde of humanity, such as ever follows up mining strikes, and asa majority, they got badly ‘* left.” ue small deposits of pay-dirt on the gulch- bottom were not sufficient to last long enough to pay for the pains of putting up more than a few habitations; consequently, the larger share of the horde stampeaed for Tbunderville, an- other characteristic and more populous and suocessful camp, ten miles up the gulch. Of course a few sanguine souls remained at Played-Out, or else Played-Out wouldn’t have been in existence, at the time of our story. A few shanties and cabins had been built for the use of those who dil remain, and, a supply- store, post-office and saloon made up the balance of the structures—the saloon, as a matter of course, being the most pretentious and paying establishment in the town. Piayed-Out was literally ruled by one indi- vidual—Lawton Leech, Esq., gentleman of leis- ure, who had come to the camp when it was in its infancy, and having more ‘‘tin” than any of the toilers of the pick and pan, had layed back on his oars, so to speak, and watched his Jo evens $ hen, one by one, the miners began to shoul- der their tools, to seek a more profitable camp, Lech came forward and made them a trifling offer, for the claims they were about to aban- dou, and in the majority of cases they were ouly too glad to acc. pt it. Tue best of the territory at Played-Out, how- ever—and it was voted bad enough—Lawton Leech could not add to his little monopoly. It comprised about twenty acres, and belonged to an old Frenchman, named Roth Roulere—a drunken old vagabond, who never did a day’s work, and whose only motive in life seemed to be that of guzzling all the whisky he could t. aT he had no money, which was usually the case, he had a happy faculty of “ ringing-in” a drink at some one else’s expense, His cabin stood upon his own claim, while all the ap ane were located upon the claims of ech, His cabin was presided over by a youn maiden, scarce more than seventeen, whom ol Roulere declared to be his daughter. , Tbat she was nothing of the kind, was the current belief in Played-Out; but no one knew for a positive fact whether she was or was not his child. She was a most charming appearing girl, and of winning disposition. Her figure, though rather petite, was well rounded, and her fea- tures were cast in nature’s happiest mold. Her hair bordered upon a sunny color, and her eyes were brown and sparkling in their ex- pression. Few men were there in Played-Out who did not worship her, and Lawton Leech was one who aspired to winning ber for his wife. Mai, as she was called, despised Leech heart- ily, and made no effort to conceal the fact, while her dislike of him seemed to only make him the more determined to win her. He also took extra pains to get old Roulere into his control as much as possible, but the old fellow was too shrewd to give Leech a chance at his property, which was the schemer’s main object. veral magnificent offers had the old vaga- bond received from Leech, but each one had been positively refused. And, although old Roulere bad the claim, be had no money, and to eep the wolf from the door, sweet Mai had to eontrive in different ways to earn an honest She occasionally got a job of sewing to do, d at nights, with her 0, appeared upon tho little stage et one end of the only saloon in ° Oly 7 are . oa .. Sil .. Kangarg@® a a eee ee Kit’s Racket. a ¢ the camp, known as Tim Fiannigan’s Sbebang, | it could scarcely have created greater surpri where she played and sung to the crowd of | [t took but a glance to discover the author the mischief so unexpectedly perpetrated Se miners, with whom she was a prime favorite. tude and reckless, though these men of Played Out were—and it had been hinted that there were those among them who would not scruple at any deed to gain money—they were al least men enough to treat Mai with respect and not to allow an insult to be offered to her by any one. Of course it was distasteful to the poor girl to cater to half-civilized and half-drunken men, but she well knew it was a case of bread and outter or starvation, as Roulere never thought of furnishing the wherewithal for subsistence. On one dark, stormy ps in October, when a fierce wind drove chilling blasts of rain through the gulch, from the north, Played-Out was thrown into u state of commotion which was certainly a rare thing. The stage, which never stopped longer than to drop a scantily- filied mail pouch, actually let off two pas- sengers. The fact was heralded to those inside of Tim Flannigan’s, by Grizzly Jim, who had come out to ‘throw up”a portion of the vile liquor he had imbibed. One of the passengers was a tall young man, dressed in black broadcloth, and baving a min- isterial aspect. His face was as smooth as a boy’s, and rather pale, while his angularity of features seemed to indicate that be bad past his twenty-eighth or nintb year. He carried no baggage and seemed to hage no certain obj‘ct in view, as, after glancing about for a moment, he turned and entered Flannigan’s Shebang. The other party who alighted from the stage, was what is known in vernacular Westernism, as a “ boly terror.” He wasa man about six feet tall, and power- fully proportioned in limb, broadness of shoul- ders and massiveness of chest. His face was large while its expression was all that spoke of evil cunning and brutal ferocity. A brigandish black mustache ornamented his lip, and his long matted hair was of the same bue. <A greasy slouch hat, riddled with bullet- holes, was cocked upon one side of his head, with the evident intent of adding to his rowdy appearance. hen be wore a flaring red-flannel shirt, open- ed at the throat, and a pair of trowsers, mud splashed and greasy, were met by a pair of knee- boots, A leather belt about his waist, contained no less than half adozen revolvers, and two enormous bowie-knives; so that the new-comer might have been set down as ‘‘a bad man to tackle.” He followed the first passenger into the saloon, as Played Out offered no other conge- nial place of resort, except the grocery store and post-office, at which place it was altogether too dry for the ordinary pilgrim. Flannigan’s place was a one-story shanty, with one main apartment, thirty by fifty feet, anda couple of rear rooms of smaller dimen- sions. The main room was fitted eet a rude bar, near the front, following which were a number of card-tables and chairs. At the rear end of the room, was a smal! un- curtained stage, with a door opening off of it, into the back room. There were maybe a score or more of roughly dressed pilgrims in the place, when the two strangers entered. They gave the new arrivals a keen scrutiny, for it wasa matter of wonderment to them what two more men could want or find to do in Play- ed Out. The tall young man in black walked up to the bar, threw down a goid-piece, and briefly said: “ Whisky!” He then turned to those who were lounging at the tables, and said: ‘Come, gents—join me!” No second invitation did the thirsty mortals of Played-Out need, where the convivial bottle was concerned, and they forthwith ranged themselves adovg the bar, with nods of ap- proval., ‘‘ He bees a first-class galoot!” seemed to be the universal sentiment. The liquor was poured out, and the men facing each other, the glasses were bunch together, prior to being raised to their lips. n instant they were held thus, then—there was the sh report of a pistol, and the glasses were dashed to, atoms in the bands of those who were about to drink to the stranger’s health, Had a thunderbolt burst through their midst a ee a ~ col It was the brigandish-looking individual that had just arrived on the stage. He steod leaning agaivst the door post, within the saloon, a leer ing grin upon his ugly face, and a smoking v3 volver in his grasp. The man in black uttered an exclamation of anger, and stepped toward the door, with flash- ing eves. , ‘*Confound your impudence—what do you mean?” he cried, sternly. ‘‘ Explaiv yourself,” ‘“* Guess you forgot something, didn’t ye, me bloomin’ bananner?”’ was the answer. ‘ Ye fer- gitted ter ax Big Blacksnake, ther Bouncer, ter wet bis whistle, didn’t ye?” ‘No, sir, 1 did not. I did not take notice of Se when I invited these gents to imbibe, and if © had, I am not so sure 1 should have asked you up!’ Mi Ye wouldn't, hey?” ‘¢T think not.” “Why?” A greenish glitter was creeping into the ruf- fian’s eyes. ‘‘ Because I don’t like the looks of you.” ** Ye don’t?” “You heard me speak.” ‘¢ Ye don’t likes ther looks ov me?" “T do not.” ‘4 Why ” “Because, if you want to know, you are a ruffian, or at least look it—benesth the notice of any respectable party.” ‘* You think I ain’t purty onuff ter liquor wi’ sech like ye?” ‘*‘That’s about the size of it.” As cool as a cucumber, so to speak, was the chap in black. He did not seem to be in the least awed by the fero ious aspect of the tough. And the miners looked on in amazement, ex- pecting every minute to see the daring fellow shot down. As for Big Blacksnake, as he had announced himself, he appeared to be delaying the culmi- nation of matters for the sole purpose of work ing himself into a first-class passion. “a, guess ye don’t know me,” he leered, evilly. “Tf I did, I should want an emetic.” ‘‘You'll git one, cuss yer picter, afore ’m through with ye!” ‘* You only think so.” ‘‘T know so, I’m a blood puddin’, Iam, an’ I don’t take no slights ner sass frum nobody— ye heer tbat?” ‘*Oh! yes.” ** Waal, I mean it!” “Do you, really? Now, look you here; let me give you a little pointer, and give it to you straight. You came here calculating to scare some one, eh?” ‘‘] ginerally skeers ’em inter fits when I winds myself up an’ sets myself a-goin’!” Black- snake declared. ‘*Then, please impress it that you can scare no one here—that is, you can’t scare me, and I speak for a dogen when I speak for myself. Now, then, tog overgrown bullwback, if you know which side your bun is buttered on, you will confer a favor upon your: self by acing © Bente skip!” ‘‘Cuss my boots! What, J skip?” ** You heard me—you skip!” ** When I do, 1 hope wolves may gnaw me an’ bezzards eat my eyes out! Ther idea o’ me skippin’, ’ca’se a little banty like you seg so! Say! d’ye want I should put a chunk o’ plu bago right inter yer noddle?” | * Ob, no; I couldn’t permit you to do that, In fact, you talk utter nonsense. How in the world do you suppose you could shoot me?” ‘‘Wi’ this hyer tool, w’ot kills at forty rod!” ‘“‘T doubt that—in fact, I doubt if you could hit a whisky-glass at the other end of the room, Dash my skin! if I don’t set ’em up all around fer every time you'll do it from now fill mornin’,’ “Ye tork like ye was well ‘ heeled!” ‘Course I am! Never sport around ’cept [ carry fifty hundred or so in my pocket,” ‘*Bab! ye lie! , mad, so r Ho That’s what you're arter, ye white-livered skunk, I’m jest goin’ ter swipe ev’ry speck o’ dirt offm z this hyer floor wi’ yer pany carcass!” His notion of pistol fig ‘ an end, for, thrasting his revolver into his he made a ferocious spring toward the stranger, intent on grappling with him, ; Never an inch did the stranger move, but at _ the right minute, be raised bis left fist, ang . ‘ y, , Os eee «* e KS.CC on your memory > Say, durn ye—I see wot you're drjvin’ at. Ye wanter get me off my won’t mop up ther floor with ye, eats hting was evidently ag : - ” + ee a — ww os» ; { ‘ ‘ sl Se C 2 gate Semis a “ - * ‘\ ~., i a : . Ae ges -} z ~ +e oft » ’ ~_* oth . é ‘ee i= + ; . dt 4 < , vee " pt ‘. aay ef} 5 re : ‘a * dy > 4 > » '