Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 424 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

** Fetch up yer Bobsled, Giant,” some one else called out, *‘ an’ take another ride!” ‘’Rah! fer Cibuter John!” ‘‘ Three cheers fer th’ Prickly P’ar from Cac- tus Plains!” *Whoop-ee/ All hands around ther nine- pin!” etc,., etc., were the cries heard on all sides. “Come! my erg, arbutuses—my lamb- kins—my hunnysuckle-buds! Do come! You are not making things Aalf lively enough!” Cibuta invited and proclaimed. And, all the time, the two men pitted against him were ‘‘coming,” to the very best of their ability; but the trouble seemed to be, they couldn’t ‘*‘ git thar.” Around and around the hero of the hour they danced, trying to catch him foul if possible, and ducking and bowing and sparring and whooping yelling all the time. But Cibuta was not theman to becaught foul. He had @ very clever knack of coming around face to face with the right man at the right moment, that was truly wonderful. A agape over went the Giant, ** He,he,he! Haw,haw,haw! the crowd roared. **Come, Bobsled!” cried Jem Patterson, ‘* cather up yer pardner an’ go in ag’in!” ‘Prickly-p’ars is good eatin’, if ye kin only ‘cape ther prickles!” suggested’ Bill Twicker. “Shell I send my dorg, Sancho, in ter help ye?” ‘*Come ter time, Giant!” ‘* Belt him one under the left lug, Bobsled!” ‘“Sally come up, Sally come down!” ‘““Whoop-ee! Bully for our side!” All such cries, and a hundred or more others, were heard all around, ‘‘Come, you fire-eaters! Why don’t you come?” Cibuta John invited again. ‘I am get- ting tired of waiting for you. Come! you mean- loo cing, dog-faced, parrot-toed, sickly-looking sons of crawling bed-bugs, you! Docome! Ah! coming at last, eh? Wall, here am I! Lively music, now, and all sashay!” And having his opponents in just the right position, he struck out suddenly and sent them both to grass at once, ‘‘ That’s the idea!” he eried. ‘‘Now you're doing something! Now you're giving the au- dience their money’s worth! Come, now! up again, my chirping bluebirds! Choose your partners, and form for a waltz-quadrille, with one of the ‘quads’ left out; call it a trirille if you like, or any other kind of a dance! Bump ourselves now, my daffodils! All ready, now? t her go, then! hoop! Bow to the corners! Bow to your partners! Heads forward and back again! Forward again! Waltz your pardners! Back! Forward right and left! Back to your places! “Well done, my whippoorwills! Now comes ovr turn! Sides forward! Back! For- ward again! Waltz! Back! Forwardrightand left— Hello! Whereareyou? Wearenothalf done yet!” Truth was, both men were once more upon their backs on the ground. With the words ‘“‘right and left,” Cibuta John’s arms had shot out in that order, and down the bullies had dropped. But they were up again in an instant, Both were boiling over with rage, and both rushed in blindly. Oh! but the crowd did whoop, and yell and cheer! They just enjoyed it immensely. Not only did they enjoy the fight in itself, but the outlandish exclamations of their hero tickled them highly. And growing interesting it was, decidedly. The two bullies pitched into Cibuta John for all they were worth. Their eyes were fast closing, their noses were bleeding freely, and the blood, mingled with gand and dust, was smeared all over their faces, In the moonlight they look like very demons, and like demons they rushed at their enemy. “Come, my little darlings—my little cock sparrows, come !” Cibuta cried most tauntingly. “Come right up, and we'll finish the measure! Now, then, forward fours! Back again! For- ward and waltz corners! Oh! you know the figure, do you? Don’t need any one to call off, eh? Allright, my wild-eyed gazelles! Go right ahead! Rightand left! All handsaround! The ether way! Whoopee! All sashay!!” For about two minutes then, as some one in the crowd remarked, ‘ you couldn’t tell t’other man from his neighbor.’ “Go it, Cibuter!” ** Give ’em Hail Columbiar!” ‘Ten to one on ther Prickly P’ar!” “Give em some more chin!” etc., were the eries of the crowd. Cibuta was too busy just then to talk, how- ever, 5 rare ted rm. ’ oan “ Cibuta John. He had his hands full. Just about two minutes it lasted, and then— Well, Sibuta John stood there with his arms akimbo, while Giant John and Billy Bobsled lay at some distance away, once more upon their backs. But with true bull-dcg tenacity they sprung up again, dashed the blood from their eyes, and rushed at their enemy once more, ‘* Here you come again, eh?” cried Cibuta. ‘* No time allowed for refreshments, eh? Well, my tri-colored rainbows, wade right in!” And, *‘ wade in” they did. | Cibuta John was forced to fight hard and furiously, which ho did not hesitate todo. He sent in some tell ng blows, and, strange as it may seem, oscaped being struck in the face him- self, He. received several hard knocks upon his arms and shoulders, but his face bore not a single mark! Again, for a minute cr so, ithe battle raged furiously, The result, however, was the same as before. Once more the bullies were sent to earth. Up they sprung again, once more dashing the blood away from their eyes, and then— But an awful cry arose. ‘* Look out, they have Inives !” It was true. Hach of the cowards had drawn a knife from his boot, where it had been secret- ly hid, and with murderous intent they rushed upon their enemy together. Revolvers were drawn, but no one dared to fire for fear of hitting the wrong man, It was an awful moment, ES —-ssssssesssssseestenees-eseessse-a ‘*QOh! my God!” cried Judge Euckleheo, * he | ' enough you know what it is! Why did youmake is doomed! Jt is the work of the silver dagger again!” At the same moment a woman’s piercing scream was heard, and a lovely girl of eight- een rushed forward and fell wpon her knees. ; It was Nettie Hucklebec, tue jucge’s Caugh- er. ‘*Oh! save him!” she cried. Bar, save him!” **Oh! you cowards!. You curs! Cibuta John had cried out at the first momentof alarm. And he prepared to meet the danger. As the men vi upon him he sprung aside, and they miss- ed him, ‘*'Throw me a knife!” he cried. Instantly a dozen were lying at his feot, but, ere he could stoop to pick one up, the villains were upon him again, Again he dodged, barely escaping; and then, seeing a chance, he sprung quickly forward and dealt each of the cowards a blow in the face. And terrible blows they were. They sounded like the loud cracking of a whip. And they did their work. Both mendropped back insensible, their faces almost crushed. “Oh! Thank God, thank God!” cried the beautiful girl, and springing to her feei she bounded away from the scene. The cheer that arose from the crowd, when they realized that their hero was the victor, was almost deafening. A. hundred men sprung forward at once to grasp Cibuta’s hand. As soon as he could, Cibuta John made his way into the store, where he sat down and asked for a drink of water. Something stronger was offered, but he declined it, and so the water was provided, And as he sat and calmed his nerves, and regained his wind, those around him discussed the fight. All agreed that it was truly a wonderful one, and that they had never seen its like before. And Uncle Dan Derrick, the poetic postmaster, remarked: ‘*'This ain’t th’ sleepy town it war! Sence kem this stranger from afar,— ‘ Cibuta John,’ th’ ‘ Prickly P’ar’— Thar’s red-hot times at Ante-Ear!” CHAPTER VI. A GIRL’S CONFESSION, JupGE HUCKLEBEE cid not return to the store after the fight was over, but started home at once, He sent Cibuta John’s revolvers and knife to him, however, and complimented him on his having come out victorious. There was fire in the judge's eye. He was in no pleasant frame of mind. He walked with a rapid, nervous stride, and his lips were tightly compressed. Something had disturbed the usual serenity of his nature, No doubt the reader will readily guess what that something was. It was the conduct of his daughter, ‘fen of Anti- It will be remembered that he had picked up a slip of paper in Bob Burdock’s store just pre- viously to the street fight—a slip of paper that caused his face to turn red with anger. It was the paper that had fallen from Cibuta. John’s pocket when he threw his coat to Jem Patterson for the latter to hold for him. That, however, the judge did not know. What he did know, though, the instant he glanced at the writing, was, that it had been written by none other than his daughter Nettie. When he had read the note, he easily guessed the rest. He entered the house in no gentle mood, ¢ The first person he encountered was a servant. ‘‘ Where is my daughter?’ he demanded. ‘*T think she is in her room, si:,” the servant replied. ‘Tell her to come to me at once!” The woman hurried out to obey, wonderin what could be in the wind to cause such a cloud of anger to hover over the judge’s usually placid brow. In a short time Miss Nettie came down, and entered into her father’s presence. She was about eighteen years of age, and of medium stature. Her figure was exquisitely proportioned and perfectly rounded, giving promise of magnificent womanhood. Her com- plexion of delicate red and white was marvel- ously clear; her hair was golden in color, and rich and lustrous, while her eyes were of a love- ly deep velvety blue. She was truly a hand- some girl, ‘‘ What is it, father?” she asked, half-timidly, her eyes seeking the floor. ‘What is it, indeed!” tho judge cried. ‘‘ Well such an exhibition of yourself a few minutes ago. in the street?” ‘‘Oh! forgive me, father!” the girl cried, as she advanced and sunk down upon her knees at. his side, taking his hand in hers, ‘* forgive your child! I was near the store when the fight be- gan, and when I saw those cowards draw their knives, I wasso frightened I scarcely knew what I was doing.” ‘‘ So frightened that you bad to rush forward, fall wpon your knees, and cry out ‘Oh! men of Ante-Bar, save him!’ What is he to you?” ‘* When I saw his deadly peril, father, I could not help doing as I did. Will you not forgive me?” ‘* You were so frightened,” the judge contin- ued, ‘‘that when the danger was over you u’ tered a fervent ‘Thank God!’ Again I ask, what is this handsome adventurer to you?” ‘‘ What can he be to me, father? I never saw him before to-night.” ‘“What can be be toyou? He can be nothing to you—he shall be nothing to you!” “Oh! father, I—” ‘*Stop! Listen tome! Nettie, my child, you have disgraced yourself—and me. Your name is upon every tongue in Ante-Bar at this mo- ment, Every man is saying to his neighbor: ‘Why did Judge Hucklebee’s daughter do as she did? What is this stranger to her? Nettie, again I ask you, what is he to you?” ‘‘ Father, how can you—how can you think he is anything to me?” ‘¢+Because, this leads me to think so!” the judge answered, and drawing the crumpled slip of paper from his pocket, he held it before his daughter’s astonished eyes, ‘* Where did you get that?” the girl demanded, and snatching the paper from her father’s hand, she sprung to her fect. ‘** Did you write it?” ‘Yes. But, tell me, where did you get it?” ‘Whom did you address it to?” the judge asked, not heeding his daughter’s questions. ‘*‘ Answer my question, father, and I will an- swer yours,” retorted the young lady, spiritedly. “Well, I found it,” “Where?” ‘“In the store. Think of the shame, Nettie. Suppose you had signed your name to it, and some one else had found it!” ‘‘Oh! do give me the credit of having sound sense, father, at least!” the girl cried. ‘ And now, to answer your questions, First, I did write it, father; and second, I addressed it to ne one.” ‘‘ Whom did you intend it for, then?” ‘¢ Wor—him,” ** For Cibuta John?” “Yes, father.” “Tt is as I thought.” ‘‘ Listen, father. I heard those two men talk- ing, and Giant John was making awful threats against Cibuta Jobn, Then I thought I would warn Cibuta of his danger. I wrote the note, and then watched for him to come from the —— ain ——