Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 340 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

. ~ ’ . ‘ A» 4 ’ - Wet” ‘ =? “.* 42.* "9 i se ~ ¥ ne * - I > * » ee Rees ~ -+ » » . — 7 * ' ey ‘Ee - Clip, and a very good supper it was, smoking hot, and with steaming and fragrant coffee. As the lad sat at the table he related his ad- venture in Orodia, and it is to be remarked that he used good language and showed no such idiotic grin as he had displayed when Sam Bunker called bim. Nelly and her mother were greatly amused by the recital; but Mat Warner seemed to re- gard it as a serious matter. “You have made an enemy of that man, Clip,” said he, ‘and Sam Bunker is one of the worst subjects in these parts,” ‘*‘Im not afraid of bim, sir. I would never have done athing he told me to doif I hadn’t meant to wind it up just as I did.” ‘* He is a dangerous man, I tell you, and how are you to defend yourself against him? You never carry a weapon.” **Don’tI, though? What do you call this?” He drew from a sheath at his back a long and sharp knife, The handle, too, was longer than that of the ordinary knife, and was heavily weighted with lead, “If you should see me throw this at a mark,” he said, ‘‘ you would think [had a weapon. A rifle could get away with me, but at any reason- able distance this would be good against a pistol.” — * Put it away, Clip,” begged Mrs. Warner. ** Tt looks murderous,’ -** It may prove to be murderous sometime, if anybody tackles me whomeans murder, But I I have not told you quite all of that little affair at the settlement. There was somebody there who stepped forward to take my part. Ididn’t need any help; but there was somebody who was ready to help me, and who do you think it was?” There were no guessers, Yamada that Miss Nelly knows,” remark- ed Clip. : “Harry Venn,” suggested Mrs. Warner, and Helen blushed and turned her face toward the window, | “That’s just who it was, and a fine young chap he is, to my notion. I would hate to have him get intoany difficulty on my account.” | Matthew Warner had been smoking reflect- wey and looking closely at Clip. e knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and Spoke up quickly: ‘**Clip Saunders, where did you come from?” ‘* Down Kansas way,” answered the lad, after a slight hesitation. ‘* Have you no folks—no relations?” **T believe not. I had a sister once.” His dark face grew darker as he spoke, “What has become of her, Clip?” ** She—well, sir, she’s dead.” “ And now you are all alone in the world. What brought you into this country?” The lad fidgeted on his seat, and hesitated again before he answered. ; ‘*T was sort of looking for something, sir.” ‘For something, or for somebody ?” ‘‘ 1 don’t like to talk about it, Mr. Warner. It is enough to have it to think about.” ‘‘Tam done. I don't want to get at your se- crets, Clip, if you have any. I asked you those questions only because we all take such an in- terest in you.” : Clip had stepped to the door, and was looking out at the night. : It was not very dark, as the light of a young moon came faint] through the clouds. ‘‘Hark! What’s that?’ said the lad, as he ‘leaned forward and listened. He bad heard an unusual noise, and directly. his ears were saluted by the unmistakable squealing of swine. ‘‘ Phere’s a bear at the pig pen, or a wildcat,” said he, 4 Mat Warner seized his repeating-rifle, and ran out closely followed by Clip. The borse-lot was a large inclosure at a little distance from the house, surrounded by a bigh stake-and-ridered fence, In one corner was a log pen, which contained at the time several young pigs. As Mr. Warner and Clip entered the lot the equealing continued, and they saw adark form coming over the top log of the pen. As they came nearer they plainly perceived that it was a large beat with a pig in bis clutch. Mr. Warner raised his rifle when he was with- easy shooting distance, and fired; but the ute was turning at the moment, and was only htly wounded by the shot. dropped the pig, and rushed toward its as- sailant. Mr. Warner stood his ground to try another ‘ shot; but the shell of the spent cartridge had Clip, the Contortionist. —_— caught, and the breech of the rifle would not work. Before he could get it in order the bear had reached him, and had raised itself on its hind- legs for a death-hug. His position was perilous, and he started to rup, just a little too late to save himself. But he was not alone, A surer weapon was at hand. Clip’s heavy-bandled knife flew through the air, and the long and skarp blade sunk in the breast of the bear to the haft. The brute clutched at the handle, but only succeeded in driving the blade deeper. It fell on its back, and rolled over and over, struggling to tear out the fatal knife, but made its condition worse, as the blood gusbed forth in a stream, Clip stood near, calmly watching the agonies of the animal, and Mr. Warner, who bad got his rifle in working order, sent a bullet into the brute’s brain, and put an end to the excitement. The ranch hands, who had been hurried out by Mrs. Warner and Helen, came running up in time to get: the job of dragging away the bear, and caring forthe carcass, Clip drew out bis knife and wiped it; but there was still blood on it when he returned to the house. ‘Clip has saved my life as well as Nelly’s,” said Matthew Warner, when he had related to the women the adventure witb the bear. ‘* Not as bad as that,” replied the lad. ' “T was in avery tight place though, and it might have been much worse but for your help. I am willing to admit now that you have a Wrago, and that it is a right good one.” ‘‘My knife has tasted blood,” said Clip, “I hcpe it may never be red with any blood but that of a brute.” “There are other brutes than those that go on four legs,” remarked Mat Warner. CHAPTER IIL. A SUITOR FOR HELEN. THE morning after the encounter with the bear Clip Saunders was standing in front of the house, when a horseman appeared at the lower end of the valley, baving evidently come through the gap that afforded communication with the outside world. He stepped inside, and reported the unusual occurrence to Mrs. Warner and Helen. ‘“ Who do you suppose it is, Clip?’ asked the former. . ‘**IT don’t suppose. I know.” ** Who is it, then?” ** Spence Symmes,” Helen turned pale, and her mother looked at her curiously. **Do you know him, Nelly?” she inquired. ‘*T don’t know him; but I have seen him. I have met him, or he has met me, and he has tried to speak to me. He bas such a rude and forward way that I hate him, and I don’t want to see him again.” ‘He will want to see your father, I suppose. Do you know where Mr. Warner is, Clip?” _ “T think he is not far away.” “TI wish you would go and find him.” Clip bastened to do this errand; but before he returned the stranger reached the house, and Mrs. Warner had a good look at him as he rode Spencer Symmes, commonly known as Spence ymmes, was not a person at whom, judging by his outward appearance, young women would be likely to shudder. He was a man who might be anywhere be- tween thirty and forty years of age, and was fine-looking, if not actually handsome, with regular features, clean-shaven face, except a very conspicuous mustache, long and dark hair, that he usually kept well oiled and combed, and a swarthy complexion. He was, moreover, tall and well-built, and sought to increase his attractions by dressing in the extreme of the border-dandy style. But there was at times, and pretty frequently, “‘a lurking devil in his eye,” that warned women and men alike to beware of him. He dismounted from bis fine and gayly-capar- isoned black horse, and entered the house with a smiling and confident air. Mrs. Warner received him politely, Helen having retreated in time to the kitchen. He started a not very lively conversation on the weather and other commonplace topics, and had not progressed far when Mat Warner came in, followed by Clip. | The ranchman “looked bim over,” as was his custom with people who were strangers or com- paratively so, and Spence Symmes was evi- — dently uneasy under that keen and inquisitive gaze. ‘‘I hope you have sized me up to suit you,” he remarked, ‘‘ I hope, too, that 1 am notan intruder bere.” ‘‘Not a bit of it,” replied Mr. Warner. ‘Everybody is welcome here who comes ona peaceful errand, and I presume that your er- rand is of course a peaceful one.” “Tt ismore than peaceful; it is friendly. J will spit it right out, if you please, as lam ea square man, and everything is open and above board with me, I have come to speak to you about your daughter.” Mat Warner was astonished if not a little shocked. ““My daughter?” he exclaimed. ‘“‘ What is the matter with my rote Fig | ‘‘Nothing in the world is the. matter with her. Sheis everything that is sweet and love- ly and attractive, and that’s what’s the matter with me. L[bhaven’t seen much of her yet, and have bad scarcely a chance to speak to her; Sere I am dead gone and that’s a solid fact, ap. ** Dead gone?” repeated Mr. Warner, as if he did notunderstand the meaning of the phrase. ‘* You know what I mean—dead in love with her—and I thought it would be the proper and genteel thing to ride over and ask you if Il may come here and visit her.” ge or that is the proper and genteel thing, Mr. Symmes. But you would of course want to come and visit ber with a purpose, and Idon’t know enough about you to say yes to that. What business or occupation do you follow?” **Oh, [ama prospector and aspeculator, I speculate mostly in mini roperty.” ** Are you settled any re?” **Can’t say that I am. My business is not of the settled kind. If I don’t strike a lead that suits me I buy a mine that promises well, and stock it up or sell it right out. That keeps me on the go, you see.” “itis too unsteady and uncertain a business to suitme, Mr. Symmes. But the girlis the one to be consulted, and I will tell her what you say. Where is she, Fanny?’ ‘*Don’t bother her, Mat,” replied Mrs. War- ner. ‘* That is not the way todo.” “‘T think it is, It is best to have a plain un- derstanding. Where is Nelly?” ‘You will find her ’in the kitchen, I be- lieve.” Mr. Warner stepped out, and soon returned with Helen. : She was not blushing, as a girl might be ex- pected to at the appearance of an avowed suit- or; but her face was pale, and her lips were compressed, as if she felt that she had an un- pleasant task to perform. “‘This stranger,” said her father, “ at least he is a stranger to me—has come here on a court- ing errand, and of course you are the object of it. He wants to know whether it will be worth while for him to continue coming on that er- rand,” Helen’s face showed that she was troubled; but her mother’s distress was the more visible. Spence Symmes bad put.on his most, attrac- tive look and his brightest smile. “Can you not answer for me, father?’ she pleaded. “It is your business, my child, and I prefer that you should answer for yourself.” “It goes bard with meto say anything that might displease anybody,” she said; * but I can only say that it would. be quite useless for the gentleman to come bere on that errand, and that I hope be will not.” Spencer Symmes scowled, rather than frowned, and ‘*‘the lurkivg. devil” rose in his eye. "He was not accustomed to being treated so coolly by any woman, and had not expected such a rebuff. “Perhaps,” said he, “somebody has. cop- pered the card that ] had put my cbips on.” ‘* What is that?’ demanded Mr. Warner, ‘1 really don’t understand you at all,” ‘‘T mean. to say that perhaps somebody else has stepped in before me and taken her fancy. Is that so, Miss Warner?’ “You have noright to ask me such ‘a ques- tion,” she coldly answered, **] can answer it for myself, though. I would like to know why itis that you are down on me, ‘*T am not down on you, sir, if I know what you mean by that expression.” _ ‘It seems to me that you folks don’t under- stand plain talk.” | : 4 ‘‘It seems to me that we talk plainly enough, ms | 5. . . ‘ . % aly a ye 4 - = COMICDOOKS.cCOom