Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 340 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

> + > * 4 , 7 a a 7 ¢ SS - } Clip, the Contortionist. Clip, the Contortionist; The Vigilantes of Montana. { BY EDWARD WILLETT, AUTHOR OF ‘‘ NEMO, THE DETECTIVE,” ‘“‘ THE ROVING SPORT,” ‘‘ FEARLESS PHIL,” ETC. CHAPTER I. A FREE SHOW. THE new and thriving settlement of Orodia, not a bundred miles from Virginia City, could bardly have been called young, as if seemed to have sprung into existence without being born, and to have been old from the start. But there was not much of it as yet. Almost the entire extent of the lovely little basin previously known as Grass Valley had been seized upon by speculators and laid off in building lots; but there hasi been few houses erected, most of the inhabitants dwelling in tents and in shanties that had been hastily thrown together. This, Would, of course, be greatly changed. in a few weeks, as prairie schooners were daily ar- riving, and loads of lumber had been contracted for, and a brick-yard was about to be started. It will be understood that Orodia was, as yet, a small settlement, when it is statea that there were only two saloons in the place. Both were mere shanties; but each was doing a rushing business and paying a heavy percent- age on the capital invested. One of them hung out a flaming sign as ‘‘ The Bon Ton,” and the other advertised itself as **The Stunner.” The latter, though the latest arrival, had be- come the more popular of the two, partly be- cause its name better suited the ranchmen and miners and railroad bands, and partly because its proprietor was a woman, who was known as Miss Nettle. : One hot afternoon in July, when the sun seemed to have a special spite against Grass Valley, a dozen.or more red and blue-shirted men, bearded and bronzed, among whom coats were scarce and high boots abounded, were gathered in front of the Stunner, listening to a casual discourse from Sam Bunker, a tall and brawny bull-slinger from the Divide, as _ the high ridge was styled that separated Grass Val- 7. from Roaring Fork Gulch. _ Thesubject of Sam Bunker’s oration was Vig- ilantes, an organization of that character hav- ing made itself severely felt in the region about Virginia City. It was a subject in which he must have been intensely interested, as he harangued his audi- ence with such energy and emplasis that the perspiration fairly rolled down his cheeks and soaked into his beard. “Tell ye what it is, feller-citizens,” said he, “them Vigilantys ain’t no sort of an American institootion. They’re imported from Mexico and ole Californy. Thar’s wbhar ve find ’em iu full leaf an’ blossom, an’ they hain’ got no call to set up in this yer enlightened land, It’s part o’ the Constitootion o’ these ver United States that every man has a right to a fa’r trial; but the. Vigilantys don’t eb nobody no sort of a show. They do thar dirty work in secret, an’ go about with masks on, like the wust kind 0’ road-agents. When they’ve got any spite or ill-will ag’inst a feller, they pounce on him of a sudden, an’ send him to Kingdom Come witbout jedge cr jury.” ‘‘Have they worried you any yet, Sam?’ asked one of the audience, ‘*No, indeed. If you or anybody else thinks that they’ve got a call to worry me, jest step forrud an’ give us’ the p’ints. This ain’t no pus- sonal matter with me feller-citizens. But tbey’d better not fool with Sam Bunker. If they try it on, some of ’efn ’Il be apt to pass in thar chips mighty quick. They’ve worried a heap, though. 7 Last night they strung up Bill Seddons, over at Roarin’ Fork, jest because of a leetle mistake be made in the way of cattle. No, they hain’t wor- ried me, but thar’s no tellin’ when it may come me turn, or any o’ the rest of us. I say ag’in, feller. citizens, that the Vigilanty business ain’t American, an’ it ain’t fa’r an’ honest, an’ I’m ag’in’ it, bide an’ horns, tooth an’ toenail. Let’s go an’ liquor. _ This style of winding up the oration was ap- lauded; but just then something else attracted am Bunker’s attention. ‘ _ Walking down the middle of the road came a young man who had scarcely more than reached the age of manhood, judging by the down on his _ ¢eheek and the faint mustache on his upper ‘lip. , ~ } His slenderness might have caused bim to ap- pear taller than he actually was, had it not n for a bend in his back that always made him look as if he was leaning forward. But his broad shoulders spoke of strength, and his length was mainly to be found in bis arms and [ggs, which swung aad wabbled about when he walk- ed as if they were taking exercise on their own account. : In bis attire he was a little peculiar, wearing a cardigan jacket that fitted him closely, a blue flannel shirt, trowsers over the bottoms of which brown woolen stockings were drawn, and well- fitting shoes instead of the heavy boots that were the fashion in that region, A brown skull- cap with a small red tassel, did notin the least protect his face from the sun, and his deeply- bronzed cheeks and black hair might easily have caused him to be mistaken for an Indian, ‘‘Swing me up if thar ain’t Clip Saunders!” éxtlniened the man from the Divide. ‘‘ Whar has he been keeping bhisself lately? ’d somehow lost sight of him.” ‘‘He’s been stayin’ out at Mat Warner’s,” re- marked a bystander. Sam Bunker scowled, as if there was some- thing unpleasing to him connected with that name, and beckoned to the young man. ‘“‘ Here, Clip! Come here to me! 1 want to take a look at ye.” | Clip Saunders halted, but hesitated, as if not inclined to accept the invitation. ‘‘ Come here, I say!” ordered Bunker. ‘‘ Durn yer or’nary hide, Imean what I shout! Do ye want to git burt?” An almost idiotic smile passed over the face of the young man, and with a hop, skip and a jump, he landed in the midst of the crowd in front of the Stunner. “Come in with us, ae anc help us liquor up,” said Sam Bunker. ‘“‘ Then I will want ye to show these fellows what ye kin do.” The man from the Divide was liberal in his order for “ setting ’em up,” and Ciip was invited to join the thirsty crowd; but neither persua- sions nor threats could induce bim to do so. When they had duly poisoned themselves, they adjourned to the street, where Bunker formed them in a ring to witness the expected performance. ‘* Pitch in now, Clip, an’ give us a good show,” ordered the man from the Divide. ‘* Put in yer best licks, or it'll be a sore set o’ bones you’ll have to carry home.” The lad suddenly threw himself into the “yee turning a somersault, and alighting on bis eet, ‘*Purty good fur a beginnin’, young feller. Twist yerself around lively, now, Fana Vu take up a collection fur ye when the show ’s over.” Clip Saunders Spopped on his back on the ground, and twisted himself into a variety of shapes, ogee ni the act by putting his Jegs around bis neck and clasping his hands over Lis forehead. ** Ain’t that bully?” exclaimed Bunker. ‘ He's a hull circus in bisself. Durn my skin if I hain’t got a big notion o’ takin’ him oyt an’ startin’ a show. Give us the roll-over now, Clip, an make ’em open thar eyes.” The lad put himself into his last position, and rolled over several times like a ball. But this performance was not entirely satis- factory to the man from the Divide. ‘*Give us some more of it,” he ordered. “ Lively, now—lively!” He had drawn a knife from his belt, and en- forced his command by pricking the Contor- tionist until the blood came, A young man stepped forward, whose attire was rather more neat and complete than that of the others. He was Harry Venn, who had been employed on the survey of the railroad route before Orodia was started, and who was then engaged on its construction. | ‘Put up that knife,” said he. *f You must not hurt the boy.” ‘*Git out!” shouted Bunker. orders from railroad sharps.” } ‘*Don’t make any fuss, Harry,” said the lad. “T ain’t burt a bit, LI like to do it—indeed I do. Now, folks, you shall see me walk on my hands.” : He threw himself upon his hands, elevated his feet in the air, and marched toward the man from the Divide, the crowd applauding him. Shortly he halted, lowered himself until bis face nearly touched the ground, and then both his feet shot out nearly at a right angle, strik- ing the bull-slingerin the stomach with tremen- dous force. The man from the Divide doubled up and **T don’t take no ‘hima tumbled over, while Clip ran away swiftly, fol- © Jowed by roars of laughter. Sam Bunker was completely knockea out of time, and it was some minutes before he could recover his breath, Then he sat up and scowled at the by stand- ers, who had not ceased to grin at his mishap. ‘Ts anybody larfin?” he hoarsely demanded. Instantly all the faces were straight and sol- emn. Then he rose to his feet and glared about sav- agely. ' % ‘“Whar’s that cussed railroad sharp that tried to interfere with me? Lemme skull,” Harry Venn faced him, with bis hand on the butt of a revolver. The bystanders moved eside as if they ex- pected an immediate and deadly combat. But avother person pushed forward, and if was no less important a person than. the pro- prietress of tbe Stunner. Miss Nettle was astout, plump, and red-faced, but not hard-featured, woman of uncertain age, whose calico dress was gay with bits of red rib- bon, and whose head was gorgeous with a bang. . She planted herself between: the belligerents: but faced the man from the Divide. ‘‘You may jest go right along, Sam Bunker,” she said. ‘‘Tbar ain’t gwine to be no fightin’ in the Stunner, or about it, so long as m name’s Susan Nettle. Putup yer shooters, bot of you, and simmer down, ‘less you want to have trouble with me.” She was at once obeyed, as if it was a matter of course. ‘“*T ll be the death o’ that young guttyperchy yet,” muttered Sam Bunker as he walked away. CHAPTER II. A BIT OF A BEAR-FRGHT. MATTHEW WARNER had a well built and roomy house on his. rauch, which occupiei—the ranch, not the house—the whole of a valley in the hills, remote from any settlement or habita- — tion. There was plenty of rich bottom-land in the valley for raising crops, and plenty of good up- land for grazing, and Mat Warner was mon- arch of all he surveyed. As a matter of fact, the hills shut out the view of any property but his own. His outbuildings, as well as his house, were extensive and in good order, and his cattle and crops, which were surpassed by none, brought ood income. Matthew Warner was a man of middle age and medium s.ze, quiet by nature, cool and cau- tious and wary, a good husband and father, and reputed to be thoroughly honest in word and deed, The rest of his family were his wife, one of the most pleasant and kindly of women, and his daughter Helen,a fresh-faced, bright-eyed and handsome girl of nearly twenty, lithe and graceful, active, and apparently tireless, as well she might be, considering that she and her Pe ey had all the woman’s work of the ranch to do, . The other cecupants of the premises were three good and reliable men who assisted Mat Warner with the cattle and the crops, end last, but not least in the esiimation of the Warner family, Clip Saunders, who had lately become an inmate of the house, The proprietor was seated in the common room, which Mrs. Warner chose to style the parlor, smoking his pipe placidly, while Helep sat at the open window and looked out at the growing darkness, and her mother was busy with her everlasting mending and darning. It was late when be came in—nearly night— it was a long distance to Orodia, and he never rode, but trusted to ee feet, which got him over the ground very rapidly. } They brightened up when he entered the house. and he was greeted with smiles. ‘You ure late, Clip,” said Mat Warner, “ We bave all had supper, down to the dogs, and I am afraid you will bave to eat yours in the kitchen.” - ‘Nota bit of it,” replied bis wife, who had already laid aside her work. ‘He shall huve his supper’ here, and the best there is in the house.” “That's right, Fanny. Nothing is too good for the lad who saved our Nelly’s life when she Se Eee the ledge into the big pool at Roaring ork. Mrs. Warner and Helen bustled about to- nee bad supper on the tablefor : gether, and soon © oa Oe eet | git at bim an’ put a streak o’ daylight through his © : * = fe -~ adnate ne ee - r - * ¥ >