Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 443 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

- = —v~ -owe knocked Kit clean over against the ropes, and she went down! Dick fancied she went down on purpose, but ‘was not certain. The third and last round was a “ dazer” for Dick, for the first blow the girl from ’Frisco aimed at him caught him under the side of the jaw, lifted him clear from the floor, and landed im upon his back. He quickly regained his feet, only to receive another behind the ear that sent him down, and this time he made no effort to rise. ‘‘That’s enough,” he said. ‘‘ lm no hog.” The crowd cheered lustily, and old men and young vied with each other in seeing which could yell the loudest. Coins, nuggets and pouches of gold-dust were hurled upon the stage by excited and enthusi- astic miners, in a way that reminded one of the haleyon days of *49 in California, and again, later on, when Pike’s Peak was the gold-seeker’s ecca. Deadwobe Dick, Jr., made his bow, and re- tired from the stage with much better grace than could have been expected under the circum- st ec ll tl tly st etl ise ances. ““Dutch Duff will now put on the gloves,” | announced Julius, after he had gathered up | California Kit’s presents. | ‘¢Youwre a liar!” shouted Duff, from the bar. ‘¢T don’d vas put on no gloves vor nopody.” ‘* Oh, yes, you will!” replied Julius, who was anxious to see his employer get punched. “ You | can’t back out, and you the boss of the house, in the bargain! Oh, no! You've got to box with California Kit.” “Nix! Not vor Shoseph!” expostulated Duff. “TI vas no brize-fighter, und I know noddings apout dot peesness. You will have to oxcuse me.” » ‘‘ What d’ye say, boys?’ demanded Julius of the crowd. ‘‘ Shall we excuse him?” ‘No, no; make him fight!” 6 He's got to fight!” “Tf be don’t fight we'll buy our licker at the Horned Ace saloon!” ‘‘Hurrah! Yes, that’s the ticket!” “You bet! We'll tear this ranch ter pieces ef Duff don’t box wi’ California Kit!” Such, and cries of similar import, went up on onary hand, much to Duff’s alarm and indigna- ion. “Dis vas an oudrage!” he cried, excitedly. **T dells you, shendlemen, I don’d vas know how to box. Ican’t box. I von’t box!” ** Lookee heer, Dutchy!” bellowed Big-Mouth Mose, swaggering up to the bar with a ruffianly leer, he having divested himself of all his cloth- ing but a sleeveless undershirt and his trowsers. “Ye know me?” ‘* Vel, Ishould smile a couple of dimes!” re- sponded Duff. ‘‘ 1 vas know you vor swei dollar visky bill!” ‘‘You're a liar! Now, lookee heer, old sour- krout barrel, you jest go up there an’ spar wid der gal, or Pll climb over this bar an’ chaw yer left ear off! D’ye heer?” ‘ee Yaw! I vas not deef like a plind man!” nervously assented Duff, who was in mortal ter- _ror of the Bummer’s Bar slugger. **Tsubbose if 1 must, I must, but id vas von oudrage against a private citizen, und if I got kilt, you mark my vord, I haff you all arrested for murdter int der virst degrees.” The crowd cheered, vociferously, as Duff wad- dled forward, fuming with rage, and climbed into the ring. ‘*Oh! laugh! sthomp! shump all you blease!” he cried. “I don’d care. Id don’d make me mad. I don’d vas care off you laugh your headts off mit your necks! I pet der vas none of you vould like to be in my blace, yoost der same.” This only served to make the spectators roar the louder, of course, and the excitement grew intense. te Everybody was on the quit vive to see the gir] from Frisco give the Dutchman a good drub- A. bing. Take it cool, Dutchy, and don’t get excited!” lauched Kit. as she adjusted the gloves to Duff's fat hands, ‘I won't kill you but a couple of times, in the first five minutes, seeing it’s you, and you set ’em up so freely, when I asked for a drink, to-night! you remember.” uff groaned, inwardly. PP ** You won't kill me only swei times, eh?” ‘* No more,” ‘* Vel, off you strike me vonce, I vill have you arrested vor ’salt und baddery. I vill stand no foolishness, vatever, und don’t you forgot it.” ' California Kit finished putting on his gloves, | and then put on her own. ** Now, then, Dutchy, square off, and come at Deadwood Dick Jr. me!” she cried, striking an attitude, ‘‘and be sure you strike hard, or you won’t hurt me. One! two! three!” ‘* Ready!” called Julius. Duff had watched the previous set-to with the createst interest. He had taken notice of Dead- wood Dick Jr.’s tactics of jumping about, and . calculated he must do likewise, so he began hop- ping around in a most comical manner, and | swinging his fists through the air, like the fans | of a windmill, in rapid motion. Every once in awhile Kit would get in a neat tap on his nose, that would cause him to give a snort of disgust, but, do his best, he could not get in a telling blow on the girl from ’Frisco. Finally, when his windmill exertions were be- ginning to prove laborious, and the perspiraticn began to ooze from his pores, he paused, his fists clinched tightly, and glared at California Kit with fury expressed in his gaze. ‘* Py shimminy, I kill you dis time!” he gritted, whereupon he made a terrific rush at her. Had they come in contact with each other, she would certainly have been carried off her feet; but, she stepped quickly aside, neatly put out her foot, ood tripped him. The result was as might be supposed. He went crashing forward upon the platform, face downward, and so great was his velocity, in falling, that he slid clear off the stage, and landed over among the foremost of the specta- tors. When he arose, it was at once perceptible that in falling, he had erased the skin from his face in a most shocking Manner, and was certainly in a bad predicament. With howls of pain and rage, he made for be- hind the bar, midst the yells of the crowd. And once more the stage became flooded with a shower of money, gold and trinkets, the gifts of,the enthusiastic spectators. ‘Now, gentlemen, if Mr. Big-Mouth Mose will step forward, I will try to do a little better by him than I did by your Teutonic friend!” California Kit announced, as soon as she could make herself heard. ‘‘ Whoop-la! hyer I am!” Big-Mouth cried, ushing his way forward, ‘* You'll find yer ain’t got no baby ter fool with this time, me darling!” ; And it certainly looked so when the local bruiser stepped inside the ropes, and his size was compared with that of the girl from ’Frisco, who appeared but as a child beside him. “Mr. Hyatt, the referee, will please step nearer to the stage, in order that he may have a more uninterrupted view of this contest!” or- dered Julius Jenks. “The contest shall be awarded according to individual merit!” the mine-owner assured. ‘That’s all we want!” California Kit de clared. ‘‘ To the victor belongs the spoils.” After a few moments, during which Big Mose perfected some swabbing and rubbing prepara- tions for the battle, the two opponents faced. Both wore hard gloves now, and there was a look of resolution in the face of the girl from Frisco that proved she meant to win if it lay in her power; while the open exhibition of confi- dence in the manner of Mose indicated that he had no idea of losing. What bets, if any, had not already been made, were now rapidly laid, giving Mose big odds. Any sensible person comparing the ill-matched pair, would have deemed it pext to arrant reck- lessness to venture any money on the little maid from ’Frisco. At the word from Julius Jenks the antago- nists came to the scratch, and began sparring. Big-Mouth’s longer reach would have seemed to give him the greater advantage, but he did not use it with any success until after Kit had hit him several light, but clever, taps. Then he got in a blow that slightly staggered the Californian, but she quickly returned it, and not only one, but another, and another, in regu- lar tattoo succession, —E It chanced that, on this particular occasion, the end of Big-Mose’s proboscis was ornamented with a very large boil which had not yet arrived at maturity, and was of a fiery hue, and gave the big pugilist a most undignified appearance. And each of California EKit’s b'ows was aimed with such remarkable precision, that the boil caught the full force of them, causing Big-Mouth Mose to recoil and fairly how] with rage. The pain must have been excruciating for the moment, for it caused the ruffian’s eyes to get decidedly watery. He was too game to give up, however, and hed forward with a string of curses, and piled in the sledge-hammer blows in rapid suc- cession, but without any particular effect, for Kit warded them off in a way that showed she si : had taken many a careful lesson in the fistic art, or else she was a natural prodigy. Another shower of taps did she land upon that red nose, and that appendage was becoming swollen to double its usual size, and it was nota small nose in its palmiest moments. At last the pain of the bruised boil became so severe that the tough forgot many of his de- fensive tactics, and then California Kit assumed i the offensive, and rained in the blows upon him in a way that set the crowd again tcg§ yelling with enthusiasm. | Big-Mouth’s eyes began to swell shut, and, although he tried his best to fight kcr off by vengeful and vicious rushes, she was too light on her feet for him, and dodged about so as to avoid his blows, and at the same time tcc x advantage of all his openings. The audience kept up a din of applause, while the bully of Bummer’s Bar swore, in terms more forcible than elegant, at every thump he received. ; Finally he got in a stinging ‘blow upon Kit’s neck, but she retaliated by giving hima hard one between the eyes with the left, and then followed it with a right-hander back of the ear me had the effect to knock Mose clean off his eet. He struck the floor with a crash, and did not offer to rise, as he was too dazed. And he was yet too groggy to stand alone when Julius Jenks called ** Time!” Just at this juncture a stentorian voice called out: ‘* Thieves! pickpockets! Guard the door, and let no man escape from the saloon. I have been robbed!” And the speaker was none other than the . owner of the Lucille mine—David Hyatt, Esq. ee CHAPTER VI. é, A MOST UNLUCKY STRIKE. As may be supposed, there was a sensation within the Daisy saloon. Although Bummer’s Bar was up to the times in nearly all peculiarities of the flash mining- towns, she had not as yet had cause to complain of the visits of either, road-agents, burglars, or pickpockets—a thing she felt justly proud of. This might or might not be altogether owing to the fact that when the town sprung up a } Vigilance Committees had been organized, of. which David Hyatt had been made president, and this committee had bound themselves by an oath to visit immediate destruction to all classes of crooked people who ventured to ply their vocations in the camp, with the Single exception of legitimate gamblers, who were ga et to pay a heavy local license. yamblers were considered legitimate and enterprising citizens, as long as they ran a square game, and when they did not they were given two hours to quit the town, under pen- alty of being lynched. | ee Notices were conspicuously posted along the two approaches to the town warning all evil- doers that death awaited them in the camp, . and that if they wished to avoid that peculiar “luxury,” they had better take the back trail immediately. Therefore, David Hyatt’s announcement that he had been robbed, created immediate excite- ment. : ‘* Yes, I’ve been robbed,” he declared, search- ing through his pockets, ‘‘not only of what money I held as stakes, but also my own pocket- book, in which I had a thousand-dollar bill!” : ‘“Maybe you’ve dropped it?’ suggested a miner. ‘‘No, I haven’t, for I took care to place the roll of wagered meney deep down in my pocket, along side of my wallet, and now you can see for yourself that my pants have been ripped, by ~~ some sharp instrument, and the money and book are gone ” It was true enough; a slit had been neatly cut in his pants, commencing at the mouth of the pocket, and running downward some six inches, Whoever had done the job, evidently under- stood his business! mn’ ‘* Let no man leave the saloon! It won't take © long to find out who the robber is!” cried Hyatt. ‘* Tf we get hold of him, we will make an ex- ; ample of him, for others to profit by, or I'm # fabrication. Stand to one side of the room, every mother’s son of you!” : There were a’ pair of revolvers in the mine- owners’s hands, and he spoke in a tone calculated to inspire obedience, ‘‘Now, then, I want to know who went through me. If he is among this crowd he might as well step right forth and own up for he willbe found out, anyhow, as sure’s there's ' x » gold in Bummer’s Bar. Where is the man, I “ AS e * 7 * j : - ‘yh aye : % ve ; 4 4 ” ” co ; P Shin ~ . * “comic <Ha a; © —~—e oe hg 7 « * °F? - . } 4 . ay * a