Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 451 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

+ _ —_——- -- ~~ — —_—_-——_ = — niet Colorado Kate. — -— OE “No, I'm not feeling quite right,” admitted | thought through the limitless space that sur- | the Undertaker, wearily. ‘‘ Youre too white-livered lookin’,” added Little Jingo. ‘* An’ this mornin’ I noticed you was off yer feed. You ain’t goin’ to nave the ehills, air ye?” ‘*T reckon not.” ‘‘ Suppose you throw off fur to-day, an’ pull fur the shanty? Kate’ll fix ye comfortable. She has a sleight that way.” Little Jingo always wound up with that in- dorsement of Kate. Taking his word for it, she had a “sleight” for almost everything. But the Undertaker did not smile. ‘¢T believe I will take a little rest,” he said. Little Jingo looked meditatively at the ground under his feet, as he observed in a different tone of voice: ‘‘T say, pard! This hyar hole’s worse’n the last. I allow our luck’s about petered out in this hyar gulch. Ha! ha!” laughing softly. ‘Bf the boys knowed how we was sold comin’ up hyar, I reckon they wouldn’t think it was the pay-dirt that was keepin’ us, eh?” ‘* Tt ought to be somewhere here,” replied the Undertaker. ‘‘ We've got the formation.” “That's what I’ve said all along; an’ that thar’s what’s kept me peggin’ away when we ain’t makin’ our salt.” His hope seemed to revive at this seconding of his opinion by his pard; and as he spit on his hands preparatory to taking up his pick again, he said, briskly: ‘Tell _ Kate that I won’t be home until sun- down. I’m goin’ to knock somethin’ out o’ this hole before I leave it!” And he went to work with a will. The Undertaker watched him a moment ab- sently, and then walked away, without a word further of leave-taking. But Little Jingo was too used to his odd way to think strange of this. He toiled away in solitude until it was too dark to see; and then sbouldering his tools, he proceeded to trudge homeward, whistling softly to himself, like a man with not a care in the world, blow high, blow low. He was thinking of a cosey kitchen, with a . bright-faced housewife flitting hither and yon, bathed in the golden glow of the firelight. ‘* An’ thar’s the Undertaker, a-settin’ on one side o’ the fireplace—Ill bet a hundred dollars! wrapped up in a blanket, an’ with his feet in a bucket, a-gittin’ cocked an’ primed fur a straight ten-hours’ sweat! But yer humble sar- vant’s comin’ in fur a swig at his rum punch, you jest bet yer bottom dollar! Swipe me over the smeller ef it ain’t jest away up, this hyar gittin’ married! An’ a man’s luck don’t peter out thar, ye onderstand. Thar’s whar he lives! Thar’s whar he ties up!” As this happy assurance passed his lips, he came to a turn in the mountain-path which brought him within view of his home, He looked—to see all dark where he had fully expected to be greeted by the fire-light stream- ing from the open door, if indeed it was not ob- structed by a far more welcome object—his wife on the lookout for him, impatient at his delay. An exclamation of surprise escaped his lips. Then he felt a sudden thrill at the heart. Why did he feel a quick chill about his mouth? Why did he hasten his steps? Why did he toss his tools down beside the door, and crossing the threshold with a terrible hush on him, stand in that darkened room, staring about him dumbly? He did not call to her. He did not call to the Undertaker. He stood in the middle of the room, listening to the rasping sound of his breathing, and count- ing the pounding thuds of his heart. What a strange thing it was. to be sure! He had never noticed it before. But now he could feel and hear the rush of the blood through the arteries in his neck. Then up and down his spine there ran such an odd play of chills, It was like the crinkling lightning he had watched of a hot summer’s night, shooting in a thousand direstions through the clouds, with only an occasional faint rumble of thunder. How still it was in the shanty, and, for that matter, everywhere out of doors. Had every one in all the world died? How strangely terri- ble it would be to be the only living thing on the earth!—not a human being, not even an animal of all the myriads that had swarmed an hour ago! As he stood there staring into rayless darkness, the walls of the shanty seemed to move away from him—further and further, and yet further! —until he seemed to be the only thing in a vast black void! It wearied his brain to try to reach out in : ; - \s ’ : ee : ‘ i. : . .% ‘ ee . ~s 4 _ 4 ogi wih Kid, Lue P We “ La Wd ing, gb ee rounded him. crackling logs that had filled his imagination so recently, still lingering unnoted in his rapper ped led him to feel for the warmth where the light had been blotted out. tended hand pressed the bare stones of the hearth, and moving from side to side, suddenly stopped. No ejaculation passed his lips, On the con- trary, his breath stopped, his heart stood still!— not a muscle stirred; not a nerve thrilled! His hand had found an opening—a hole in the hearth. A stone had been removed! Those that were left were cold, There had been no fire over them for an hour, for two hours, for three hours, for four hours, for jive hours!—since his pard had left him. His pard! His pard! His pard! He sunk, rather than sat down on the hearth, and leaned his head against the back of the fire- place. Ab! how tired he was, and dull, and old, and chill! The chill of that hearth seemed to have struck into his bones! Would he ever be warm again? It was a queer thing, after all, come to think of it, that the Undertaker had hurried away so, when he had called to him. And he had heard her voice, talking to somebody. And then, why had he stayed away from the wedding? Maybe he couldn’t bear to see her married to another man! What was it that Limpy Dick had said? He couldn’t remember. He could only recall Kate’s strange anger, and the odd look on her face. The rest had looked at him curiously, too, come to think of it—especially the women. What was it they had made of Limpy Dick’s growl? And if the Undertaker was sick— Now, it was queer that he should have that fit of sick- ness just when their luck had petered out. And then, where was he? And—and—the gold was gone. And he had interfered to keep the Squire from winning it!—and taken his hand when he thanked bim for thinking of Kate’s comfort! Hang the gold! He might have had it—all, if he wanted it. But to sneak off like a coyote, and rob his own pard! But of course it wasn’t the gold he was after. To be sure, that would come in handy, with— with—with a woman on his hands! But then she had hung about his neck only that morning, before she would let him leave her. And how she had gazed into his eyes until the tears had dimmed her own. “T reckon, now, she knowed all along as how she was goin’ fur to break my heart; an’ she didn’t do it willin’! I reckon that’s it. He over- persuaded her. An’ women critters, they’re soft an’ easy talked over. But I ‘lowed it was all fur love o’ me—that strong she couldn’t tell me. A man’s a blamed fool, an’ easy took in, when a yurty woman strikes him whar he lives. ‘Ef I'd only knowed! She could ’a’ backed out before the knot was tied; an’ then he could ’a’ had her all fair an’ above-board. It would ‘a’ come down rough on yer humble sarvant; but then —but then—not hke this hyar!” He did not speak these words. He did not have even the thoughts clearly. But something through his clouded brain. silent tears rolling slowly down his cheeks, So the boys found him in the morning, when came there in a body. ‘‘Tt's all right, boys,” he said, in a wandering sort of way, as they gathered about him with earnest glances, He struggled to his feet; but when he would have walked, he staggered, and Burt Younger caught him in his arms. ‘‘ Now, by the fiends!” cried Burt, while his eyes blazed, and the veins swelled on bis fore- head, ** I'll have the heart o’ that hellion fur this hyar!” sa | allowed as it would come, when he didn’t show up at the weddin’,” said Limpy Dick, with his cynical whine, From the midst of the crowd, where he seemed to have shrunk into even less than his wonted compass, he peered at the broken man with a snake-like glitter in his eyes, and a hardly re- pressed quiver of his upper lip. ‘‘ Tt’s all right, Burt; it’s all right!” murmured Little Jingo, recovering himself. ‘You're a solid friend, you air!” a ES NN eee —— to such purpose drifted dimly and confusedly | All night long he | sat there in the darkness on the hearth, with his , head against the, back of the fire-place, and the | —— — > Cr ST Seeing that the momentary dizziness had passed, Burt let go his hold, and whirling about, How he got to the fire-place, or why he went , snatched the cripple off his feet, and hurled him there, he never knew. Perhaps the vision of the | headlong through the door! CHAPTER XIX, A NEW PHASE OF THE PLOT, At the break of day Limpy Dick had made his Instead of falling upon warm ashes, his ex- | appearance in so unusual a plight, as to at once set the whole camp agog. He was covered with dust, as if with a long tramp on the highway; he was pale with excite- ment, and had his left arm bound with a bloody handkerchief. ‘‘ Gents!” he cried, to the gaping crowd that gathered about him, “‘I could ’a’ told ye this hyar thing weeks ago, But, no! ye wouldn’t hearken to me, You was all sosharp, ye knowed everythin’ was all O. K. Waal, now mebby you'll say as it was only growlin’ at Little Jingo’s weddin’!” He stopped, panting for breath. ‘What air you tryin’ to git through you?” growled Burt Younger, with a savage scowl; ‘an’ what’s the matter with Little Jingo’s weddin’?” ‘* Matter enough; I reckon you'll allow that before you’re many hours older. Whar is the bride, I'd like you to tell me?” ‘“Whar she ought to be; at home, gittin’ breakfast for her leetle man.” **Oh yes!—in yer eye!” sneered Limpy Dick. ‘It'll be a long time before she gits breakfast fur Little Jingo ag’in, my Christian friend!” Burt Younger’s rejoinder was too profane for quotation. He did not like Limpy Dick; and he was infuriated by his. persistent slurring of Colorado Kate. ‘‘Look lhyar, hop-an’-go-klink!” he cried. ‘Spit out what you've got to say in short meter! But hark ye to one thing! Ef you say anythin’ ag’in’ Colorado Kate what yer can’t back with the facts— Waal, jest you go on! But I’m layin fur ye!” ‘* Mebbe you'll dispute this,” blustered Limpy Dick, with his hands on his hips, and his head wagging from side to side defiantly, ‘‘ She’s run away with the Undertaker !” So startling was this charge, that the men stood with mouths agape, staring stupidly atone another. At last Burt Younger found breath tothunder out: ‘What ?” ‘“She’s run away with the Undertaker,” re- peated Limpy Dick. ‘‘ Ain’t that plain enough fur ye? She’s cut the ranch, sloped, got, ske- daddled, shook Little Jingo fur a man more to her likin’!” Bellowing an cath of furious indignation, Younger leaped toward the cripple as if to shake the life out of him. _ But Dick skipped nimbly out of reach, cry- ing: ‘* Keep that buffaler bull off 0’ me, boys! Am JT to Bachawer up because the thing turns outas I knowed it would? I dicn’t make her the way she is. It is only thatl see the thing that you was too thickheaded to see. I allow that ain’t no crime, If you don’t like the how it’s panned out, jump onto the Undertaker.” “ How do you know that she’s run off with him?’ demanded Burt. ‘“ T was goin fur Twin Bluffs, yistiddy, an’ jest as I got nigh the forks, | heared somebedy tear- in’ alone after me like the old feller himself was behind ‘em. I stopped fur ’em to come up, an’ thar it was the Undertaker an’ Colorado Kate on Little Jingo’s best hosses, Ske was a-takin’ | on, skeery an’ cryin’, an’ be was a-chinnin’ to | her like he never chinned it sence he struck this a lot of them with pale faces and wrathful looks | id i com e JOOK Now you jest want to believe he hvar camp. : !” knows how to wag his jaw when he wants to ‘Ti bet he does!” cried one of the listeners, who was only too glad to believe anything to the discredit of the Undertaker. “Waal, I spot ted °em at once,” continued Limpy Dick, ‘‘ before they pulled up, a-starin’ at me as if they thought ’d come up through the ground, An’ I see that his nibs was an ugly man to fool round jest about that time o' day! So I jumps fur the rocks like shinnin’ up a greas- ed pole, “He come for me, a-yellin’ for me to stop; but I jest kep’ a-travelin’ fur the table-rock what overhangs the road thar. “Then he whanged away at me, an’ thar’s what he took out 0’ my hide,” At this point in his narrative Limpy Dick un- wound the bloody handkerchief, and showed a flesh-wound in bis arm. ‘‘ But I made the table-rock an’ looked down at him in the road; an’ he swore he'd plug me ef I didn’t come down out o’ that. *