Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 451 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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which little Jingo caught up and finished for her, with a laugh: ‘‘ Air your pards! Ha! ha! ha!. [like that, I do! tyin’ to. Thar’s the Widder Malcom, now, as when old Malcom was around use’ ter take his cronies, neck an’ crop, an’ pitch ‘em into the street. An’ then thar’s them as looks black, an’ says nothin’; but you know that they’re growl- in’ all the while on the inside. But my pards is Kate’s pards; an’ we stan’s by ’em, I want ye to onderstand !” With that the Undertaker took his place at the table, thanking his friends brokenly; and by the time the supper was over, seemed to have slipped back into his old place, before the change in Little Jingo’s relations, Little Jingo was delighted. Alas! the time was coming when he would recall the scene, and ask himself with a bursting heart whether the Undertaker’s embarrassment was caused by gratitude, as he now supposed. ‘* Pard,” he said, after supper, ‘* we’ve got the leetle pile safe an’ snug. looked fur ye last night; an’ now, ef you say so, we'll put your half along with the rest.” And then the Undertaker did a thing which showed Little Jingo’s unbounded confidence in his pard. It showed, too, the perfect simplicity and sincerity of the man he had so implicitly trusted. On removing his cloak before sitting down to supper, he had taken from about his waist a large leather belt, which had been supported by straps passing over his shoulders, like suspenders. This he now got from where he had leftit with his cloak, and placed it on the table, from which Kate had removed the tea-service. Outside the shanty a man was peering in through a chink in the curtain, which Little Jingo had imperfectly drawn. One glance at the shrunken body, the pinched face, and the greedy glitter of the weasel-like eyes, would have satisiied any one taat it was none other than Limpy Dick. He had been on the watch for the Undertak- er’s return; and the darkness had given him his chance to spy upon his reception. He had cursed Little Jingo’s blind confidence in the Undertaker and in his wife. ‘¢ What ef he don’t believe it?” he asked him- self, and then ground his teeth in rage. ‘ He’s got to believe it! ll git a double half-hitch on that galoot somehow! They don’t look comfor- table, either the Undertaker or Kate, I wish I was in thar to call Little Jingo’s attention to it. T reckon it’s the bee I put in her bonnet, what makes her so rosy.” He chuckled softly to himself; but then, re- membering the part he was forced to play, he ended with a smothered snarl of fury. So he watched them through the supper; but when he saw the belt brought forward, and heard the thud which attested its weight, he be- came fairly wolfish in the eagerness with which he glared through the chink, into the room, “That's rocks!” he muttered to himself. °* It’s Little Jingo’s pile! What is that galoot a-doin’ with it, ’d like to know? Has he let him go scootin’ about the country with that thar thing by him? He’s a bigger fool than I took him to be. Within, Little Jingo said: ‘* T reckon it’ll stand us in hand to take a leetle squint outside, before we open up. Two sich belts as that thar ain’t a-layin’ ’round loose, all over Canyon City, I want ye to onderstand!” He went to the door, and even out into the night, strolling about the house, whistling soft- ly: so that, if any one chanced to be in the neighborhood—which was far from likely—and saw him, it would appear that he was taking the air idly. Limpy Dick had crouched down close under the wall of the house, in the dense shadow, where he lay, scarcely daring to breathe, Would he be detected? CHAPTER XVII. MULTIPLICATION AND DIVISION, Larrie Jrnco did not dream of looking for a spy, and so looked only away from the Shanty, never toward it. Returning, he said: ‘*Tt’s all right, o’ course. Now fur our bank safe!” He raked the fire to one side of the fireplace, observing: ‘We made this fireplace big enough, Kate, so that you don’t have to put the fire out to git into er bank,” Then he patted a certain stone with an affec- tionate smile. That’s the kind of a woman I knowed I was | | | | a ——wwwc to — ee eee a ‘‘That thar’s the door what we says ‘Open Sesame!’ to; an’ then we go into our pold cave, like the Forty Thieves! Ha! ha! ha! The ashes keeps it from gittin’ too hot, jest like I told ye.” | that stone and the next, and after a little prying, lifted it out of place, discovering a deep hole. Into this inserted his arm to the elbow, and drew forth a belt like that the Undertaker had brought. He put it on the table beside the other, and stood off to view them with smiling satisfaction. ‘Jest heft them thar, my girl!” he said to Kate. She went and lifted first one and then the other. That they were equally heavy was evident from the effort she had to put forth, and the dull thud with which they struck the table as she set them down again. Limpy Dick’s eyes nearly protruded from his head in the stare with which he gloated on this accumulation of wealth. ‘* It’s a king’s ransom!” he cried. somethin’ to jest heft them myself.” He was soon to have his curiosity gratified; for Little Jingo wenton: ‘*Them’s rocks,” he said—‘‘solid rocks! Ef you was guessin’, what’d ye guess them weighed apiece?” ‘Oh, I can’t say!” replied Kate, gazing from the belts to her husband proudly. ‘* They'll average up thirty-five pounds, both on ’em—that Ill swear to!” said Little Jingo, meaning that they would weigh thirty-five pounds each. ‘* But how much is that in money’s worth?” asked Kate, breathlessly. ‘‘ It must be a lot!” ‘*A lot!” repeated Little Jingo. ‘‘ Waal, I reckon! That kind o’ lots don’t lay around loose out 0’ doors in Canyon City, muchly |” ‘*No. But how much is there?” ‘Ye kin figger it yerself. I allow, now, Kate, you’d orter be handy at figgers.” He looked at her inquiringly. She laughed, knowing that his love for her made him think that she was clever at anything and oy eos ‘Oh, I know the multiplication table—you can count on that,” she said, teasinglv. ‘‘ Waal,” he went on, while his eyes rested on her face admiringly and fondly. ‘‘ thar’s eigh- teen dollars to the ounce, an’ sixteen ounces to the pound, an’ thirty-five pounds in the belt. How much does that make?” ‘‘Well, let me see,” she said, putting her head a little on one side as she fixed her atten- tion on the figures. ‘‘ Six times eight are forty- eight; and six times one are six, and four to earry are ten. That’s a hundred and eight. And ten eighteens are a hundred and eighty. That’s two hundred and eighty-eight dollars to the pound, ain’t it? Then, five times eight are forty; and five times eight are forty, and four are forty-four; and five times two are ten, and four are fourteen. That’s fourteen hundred and forty for the five. Then a cipher’s a cipher: and three times eight are twenty-four; and three times eight are twenty-four again, and two are twenty-six; keep six hundred and forty in your mind’s eye!—and three times two are Six, and two are eight. That’s eight thousand, six hundred and forty. And how much did we have for the five?” _* Fourteen hundred an’ forty!” cried Little Jingo, delightedly. “I’ve got that thar whar no Investigatin’ committee won’t git at it—an’ don’t ye furgit it! Go on with yer rat-killin’!” Fourteen hundred and forty to eighty-six hundred and forty,” continued Kate, her cheeks glowing with pleasure as she saw how proud of her readiness with figures made her husband. ‘Two forties are eighty, and six and four are ten—a cipher and one to carry; and eight and one are nine, and one more are ten. That’s ten thousand and eighty in each belt, and twenty thousand, one hundred and sixty in the two!” ‘*Hooray! Jest look a’ that, now!” shouted Little Jingo. And whirling round to the Undertaker, he grasped his hand, and shook it as if he would not be content without dislocating his shoulder. ‘‘ How’s that, pard?—how’s that fur a head- piece? Do ye know how long it took me to figger that out? The hefty part of a day, by thunder! Why, sir! I whittled up the stump end of a lead-pencil—the last one Thad in the world, blow me ef it wa’nt!—over that thar! An’ hyar she’s jest spit ’er out like ketchin’ a greased pig by the ear!—jest like the pig’s gittin’ away, I mean!” And Little Jingo laughed uproariously over 1S Correction. “Td give | ‘But twenty thousand dollars!” cried Kate, hastening to turn attention from herself. It was enough to know how she had delighted the man she loved. She did not want his ex- | travagant praises—at any rate, not before an- He inserted the point of his knife between | PN eeeeEEeEeE a other, even his pard, ‘* Twenty thousand dollars! sand apiece, ain’t it?” And she clasped her hand with wonder and pride, and the kind of awe that one feels at the thought of possessing a large sum of money. ‘It all belongs to your husband, madam,” was: the Undertaker’s grave correction. ‘‘I brought nothing into Canyon City, and I have made nothing since I have been here.” ‘* The deuce it does!” cried Little Jingo, indig- nantly. ‘‘ Waal, I sw’ar, ef that thar ain’t bein’ pards with a vengeance!” The Undertaker smiled sadly. ‘““If there was to be any sharing between us, where all belonged to you,” he said, ‘‘ let us say that I lost my share in losing the Ace of Hearts!” ‘“You be blowed!” said Little Jingo, picking up one of the belts to end the discussion. It was plain that he would brook no denial in his determination that what was theirs should be theirs in common. But he couldn’t dismiss all at once the idea his pard had advanced; and as he proceeded to put the belts into the cache under the hearth, he muttered: ‘*T reckon, ef you was to make a stake, an’ I was to git shut o’ this hyar, you’d kick me out! The deuce ye would !” Which showed that he took it for granted that his pard was as generous as himself. Kate looked at her husband with a pride and affection in her eye which proved that in her he had a worthy mate. She had lived in the West all her life; and to. her the tie that bound Little Jingo to the Under- taker was almost as sacred as that which bound him to her. She would have been disappointed in him if he had been less generous, At the same time she knew that there were men who would have thought it the right thing to keep all that had belonged to them before the formation of such a. partnership. As for herself, she did not grudge this share out of their abundance to a man whose only fault was his dog’s luck. ‘* Don’t waste no more breath over that thar!’” chuckled Limpy Dick to himself. ‘‘ I will make easier reckonin’ between ye, before long, jest to keep peace in the family!” He waited until he had seen Little Jingo secure the stone over the cache, and rake the fire back to its place; and then he crept away, muttering: **?’m full, 1 am—chuck up! I don’t want to see no more! An’ I ain’t hangin’ around fur to have him come out an’ drop onto me! Twenty thousand! Whe-e-w!” CHAPTER XVIII. THE BLOW FALLS. SEVERAL weeks of quiet happiness followed Little Jingo’s marriage. The boys growled at having lost him so en- tirely; and after the first week they used all sorts of inducements to draw him back to his old haunts; but in vain. He laughed at them, and recommended them, one and all, to get married; when they too would prefer a quiet fireside to the noisy bar. ‘‘ But why in Cain d’ye want to live ’way out hyar in the wilderness?” they urged. ‘‘ Come back into the camp, an we'll put up a shanty fur ye, a dog-gone sight finer’n this hyar, by thunder! Reckon, now, you sets glowerin’ at the Undertaker, an’ he sets glowerin’ at you; an’ thar you sets as flat as stale beer!” ‘Don’t you believe it!” replied Little Jingo, with a twinkle in his eye, ‘*T sw’ar, I believe you two is takin’ more pay- dirt out o’ that thar hole in the ground than you let on!” declared one, unable to think of any other reason for this strange seclusion. ‘“Come out hyar an’ try yer hand!” laughed Little Jingo. ‘**Come, now! what'll ye give me fur my claim? Put up, or shut up!” But, under the pretense of calling upon Little Jingo all in a friendly way, the boys had looked the ground over thoroughly, and concluded that it wouldn’t pay to pull up stakes and stampede up the gulch; so there were no offers. Then they let him alone. And now Little Jingo and his pard were pick- ing and shoveling patiently side by side, when the Undertaker rested on his shovel, and wiped the perspiration from his dripping brow. ‘*T say, pard!” observed Little Jingo, looking at his companion critically, ‘‘ you ain’t well. What's the row?” That’s ten thou-