Pulp Fiction, 1884 · page 15 of 16
Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 347 — page 15: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1884. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
4 ea >, — t ‘ - St Fin he ~ «tae ~ > AGT &, a et .- rT. “yr - =e", * Pej ~ Due <. wy i a - aa “ — & 7 a ~ ax Se ~ | *, te S 3 - - & 4* * ; —_—. : wee re — 1.2 ee a _ Wat. ." a 7, » . Ey! ng he _ * nee ’ ——_- ‘a on* ; * ae - : te eS a_3 . <a ee mistakable light of recognition dawned over er face, and she rushed forward, gasping: ** Bethel! Bethel! God be praised, I do re- member you. And, now, oh! yes, comes back the scene of the outlaws attacking our home— and, father—I see him now—” Further words were unspoken, just then, for the two strangely reunited sisters were sobbing in each other’s embrace. Later, Bethel, otherwise Roaring Ruth, ex- lained how Ravec and a band of border ruf- ans had attacked the Brainard home, killing father and mother and carrying off one of the sisters. She, Bethel, kad taken the trail of Vengeance, swearing to avenge the untimely fate of her parents, and to rescue Roya. ‘‘In all but one thing you bave succeeded,” Roya spoke up. “ You will probably never see mon Ravec again.” “< Why 9”? ** Because he doubtless perished in the flood. He was Masked Mose.” “Why, then, did you not betray him into the hands of justice?” ‘* Because I hoped some day to learn of him of my shadowed past.” Roya also explained that she had discovered the mine, weeks before, and at every oppor- tunity bad stealthily visited it, and watched Dick and Leclede at work—particularly the lat- ter, for whom she had formed a fancy. Days passed by, and the two girls remained the guests of Deadwood Dick, awaiting the re- turn of Kid Karl. Two weeks passed, Yet he came not. Roya began to show rag ap Not so with Roaring Ruth, In Deadwood Dick she had found an ideal suited to her own fearless nature, CHAPTER XV. CONCLUSION. As the flood had washed away all the avail- able liquid refreshments from Devil’s Diggings, barring that commonplace beverage known as water, the dozen miners in the lone mountain pocket bad none; in consequence, the men grew surly and unsociable, and it was evident noth- ing could restore Camp McBride to anything like a pleasant state short of a couple of gallons of bug-juice. Nearly all the miners had been regular and hard drinkers, and they missed their ‘‘ moistening,” the same as a horse misses its oats. Therefore, when, one noonday, just as they were about quitting work, the miners spied a nan sitting on a bowlder, watching them, with a two-gallon demijohn between his legs, they set up a yell, and made for him pell-mell, Mc- Bride, like a famished wolf, in advance. As they drew nigh, they somewhat slackened their pace, for they saw a pair of large six- shooters leveled at them, _ The man who held them was a comical-look- ing person, yet, withal, a typical miner. His hair was of a startling reddish hue, while a short, thick-matted beard of a like color cover- ed nearly all of his face. His garments were coarse and mud-splashed, and he bore every evidence of having just come out of the mines. ** ‘Whoa up, thar—steady, by jerks, ef ye don’t want to git afflicted wi’ a case o’ geny wine cor- ruption o’ ther heart! What ails ye, ye ’tarnal fools?” ‘* What hev ye in thet jug?” McBride demand- ed, boarsely. ‘What’s that yer bizness?’ the stranger re- torted, coolly. ‘* D’ye run my apple-cart, or do {—which?” ‘‘T°ll cursed soon run it, ef ye don’t keep a civil tongue in yer head!” the gambler replied, savagely. ‘‘See hyer, redhead, ef ye’ve got lik’er im thet jug, we hain’t hed a smell ina fortnight, an’ we wanter heave down a hoss- load,” ** Hain’t hed no p’izen in a fortnight, d’ye say? Why, lor’ bless yer souls, that’s redickerlus, Sail up, an’ smile at the moist humor ov yer pecie, Bou Sargent. LIain’t no bog—not I, you t! And Benjamin uncorked the demijobn, and oa it down upon the ground, with a ludicrous n, “T allers like te see a feller hev some life in him, tho’ thet ile came cl’ar from Pineville, ala tote, an’ aire mighty expensive.” “Where d’ye belong?’ McBride demanded, after taking a strong pull Deadwood Dick’s Ducats. ‘‘Oh! bin prospectin’, all overs, Didn’t hev any idea any one lived ‘round these parts. But, I say, thet demy’ war heavy—what d’ye say ter givin’ a feller a squar meal?” ‘** Ye shall hev it in earuest; and, what’s more, we’ll lighten yer jug so it won’t be so heavy to carry when you go on,” McBride facetiously answered, The other miners prevailed upon Redhead, as be was generally dubbed, to tarry with them, until rg least a portion of his good cheer was dis- peused, At first, Mr. Benjamin Sargent showed up rather bashful, but after the day had worn on, and he had had several drinks of his own ‘‘p’izen,” his tongue seemed to get loosened, and McBride was enabled to *‘ pump” him to a con- siderable degree. No, he had not struck it rich: in fact, was not able to truthfully say that he had struck it at all. Was disgusted with prospecting, and if luck didn’t soon change he should turn his hand to something that would better bis finances. Would he be over-particular and scrupulous as to what was the nature of the job as long as it yielded big pay? No, he couldn’t say as he would ef he saw the money in hand. : There was no work for the balance of that ay. The miners drank deeply, and as night drew on, they became conspicuously drowsy, and one by one fell off into a sound sleep. Old Jonas Argyle and Dutch Dave did not imbibe of the liquor, for a peculiar sign from Redbead bad warned them to let thestuff alone, although to keep up appearances, they made a feint of drinking occasionally. McBride having drank deeper than the rest was among the first to fall asleep. By a little after dusk, there were but three wakeful persons in the cabin, and those who were asleep were in no danger of being easily ghee pure na i hey were powerfully drugged. “s The thiniees vemked: first-class!” Benjamin Sargent said, turning toold Argyle, ‘‘ Couldn’t be helped, to carry out my plans,” ‘*Who are you?” Argyle demanded, “Kid Karl!” and he threw aside the false beard and hair. ‘* And the others?” ‘* Safe, up in the mountain mine.” Argyle was silent a moment, then, he said: “Young man, I bave taken a strange and perhaps unwarranted interest in you, since our first meeting, and I must speak, now that I have gn opportunity, Tell me—do you know who your parents were?” ‘ Fes. y father was John Karl, a Cana- dian, who bunted and trapped for a living. My mother, I did not know. She died when I was too young to remember.” ‘“‘But, her name—you must remember that?” “Tdo. It was Miranda!” ‘‘Great Heaven! then, after all, my sus- picions are not unfounded, Speak, boy—have you a birth mark—a scarlet arrow upon your arm, near the shoulder?” “There is, indeed!” Kid Karl replied, in sur- prise. ‘*‘ Why do you ask?” ‘** Because, I am your father!” “‘My father?” ‘* Ay, your father!” and there were tears in the old man’s eyes. ‘‘I can explain to you. Years ago, I, a hunter, rescued a white girl from the Indians, named Miranda Stone. er parents were dead, and I adopted, and eventu- ally married ber. You were the issue of our marriage. When you were a year old I was made captive by the Indians, and taken many hundred miles from my home, For ten years I was a forced member of a wild warlike ban of Sioux, and when I finally escaped to my for- mer home, I found there a thriving village. All I could ever learn of Miranda, was, that after mourning me as dead, for three years, she married a trapper, and they moved to the far frontier, Since first seeing you, some subtle instinct has told me that you were my boy 1”? ** Then, it must be so, father, and as a son, I warmly welcome you!” Kid Karl said, folding the old man in his embrece, ‘Py shimminy gracious, I vonder off some- Odies don’d vas pe magin’ out dot I vas der ather off some odder poddies, vot pe deadt, dese forty year?” Dutch Dave muttered, in as- tonisbment. After the greetings between father and son were over, Kid Karl said: *‘ Now, I have work to be done, here, yet, and we must all fall into a semblance of repose, like the others. I expect Masked Mose to visit 15 the se at almost any moment, and mean to capture him.” oO speak was to act, and shortly all parties “a the cabin were apparently in deepest slum- er, Kid Karl had not estimated, wrongly. For days he had been shadowing the movements of Masked Mose, alias Ramon Ravec, and had formed an idea that the outlaw would visit the miners’ camp that night, to seek an interview with McBride, And so he did, Tbe evening was not more than half ad- vanced when Masked Mose boldly entered the cabin, He started back, first, on seeing the sleeping miners; then, uttered a loud laugh, as he be- held the empty demijohn. ‘*Drunk as a pack of loons, I'll swear,” he muttered, ‘I presume there’s little use o’ try- ing to stir up McBride. He never gets drunk but he gets paralyzed, the glutton!” ‘‘ Stand, Masked Mose! Stir an inch, and you are a dead man!” It was Kid Karl’s ringing voice that uttered the challenge—Kid Kar!’= hands that held a pair of polished death-tubes leveled toward the outlaw. There was no mistaking the meaning of his stern command; and when Ravec saw Dutch Dave and old Argyle also cover him with their weapons, he uttered a savage growl, not unlike that of a baffled tiger. “What d’ye want?” he demanded, with a string of oaths. ‘*T want you /” Karl replied promptly. ‘You attempted to assassinate Deadwood Dick, ho ing to get possession of the gold. You falsely charged me with the crime; and now, sir, you have got to clear me, in the presence of him whom you would have killed!” Kar] looked so stern and spoke so vengefull that the outlaw made no attempt to deny his crime, ‘*So Deadwood Dick still lives?” he gritted. é< Yes. ”? ‘* An’ ye want me to go before him, an’ say ye didn’t shoot him an’ that I did?’ “Precisely that, sir!” **T’ll be cussed if I do!” ‘Then you die here!” “Better by your hand than his!” Ravec growled, on evidently knew he was safe in saying is. And he gained the point. ‘* You shall go with me!” Karl said. ‘‘I will make you inducements to do so. Go to the mine with me,and into the presence of Dead wood Dick, and there declare your guilt, and my in- nocence, and I peenian you neither he, I, these gentlemen, or Roaring Ruth, shall hinder you from taking your departure.” ‘*T acknowledge here, that I attempted to kill Deadwood Dick, but 1 won’t go before him!” was the stubborn reply. ‘“‘That is quite as satisfactory, here) as it would be, elsewhere!” a voice cried, and Dead- wood Dick stepped into the room, followed by Ravec’s former band. ‘I freely withdraw my claims against you, Ramon Ravec, in favor of these gentlemen!” In vain Masked Mose made a desperate attempt to escape. His sands of luck had ebbed out; he was seized and dragged out into the night and borne away, no one knew where, except the grim, determined men who had him in charge. What was his fate no one knew—few cared, if any. fle was never heard of again, nor were the men who were doubtless the cause of his death. But few word are necessary in closing: Deadwood Dick did not work his mine much longer, but turned it over as a present to Kid Karl, who, witb Roya, his wife, now live there, together with a band ef sturdy miners. Dick’s wild, restless nature and roving inclin- ations would not admit of his remaining longer in that region, and he set out in quest of fresh fields of adventure, under new auspices and with a new purpose, Not long after his departure Roaring Ruth and ber burro also left the mines. Wise ones said the girl was smitten with the ex-Prince of we Road ane had aeons ps search of him, udge Splinter an onas Argyle remained with Kid and Roya, as did Dutch Dave, while Jake McBride left that region to meet a tragie death in a mine-explosion near Buena Vista, THE END.