Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 453 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

©) (4 Bet indicated on the map, for the place rejoiced in another namg, which the fastidious were wont to use instead of the original rough-and-ready title. But of the camp itself, more anon. The two men referred to as standing before the bar of the Lone Deer, were aged respectively about forty-four and forty-five years, and look- ed somewhat alike, inasmuch as both were about of the same stature, dressed in similar garb, and each possessed a well-kept brown beard. It was the younger man who had uttered the insulting charge, and his face was flushed red from the combined effects of anger and strong arink. The other man appeared to be somewhat an- gered, too, and his eyes flashed resentfully at the accusation. “ Augustin Andre, Pll make you retract those words, if I die for it!” he cried, hotly, ‘‘ so take them back at once, if you would save yourself trouble.” ‘‘T take nothing back, Joe Mora, nor do I fear rou, as I will prove, by repeating the charge hat you are both a liar and a thief!” Andre sneered. With a cry of rage, Mora ieaped forward and elutched Andre by the throat, and essayed to strangle him, which he undoubtedly could have done, had not Andre quickly wrested a knife from its sheath upon his hip, and with one quick stroke drove it to the hilt in Mora’s breast. With a groan the stricken man relinquished his hold upon his enemy’s throat, and fell to the floor, where he expired almost instantly. Then, with a heartless laugh, Andre turned upon his heel, and walked from the saloon. The circumstances of this cold-blooded act were somewhat peculiar, inasmuch as no one had been present in the room besides the two men, to witness the crime—the bartender having been engaged in the cellar in tapping a barrel of liquor, and both Andre and Mora having entered during his temporary absence. Therefore, when the bartender heard the fall, and rushed up-stairs, he found Joseph Mora weltering in a pool of blood, and his murderer one, 3 Quickly the bartender, whose name was Nich- olas Nye, rushed to the door and threw it open. It was late at night, and a dark night, too, so that Nye could not see a dozen yards away. Nor could he hear any sounds of retreating footsteps. There was only here and there a twinkle of a light about the camp, and no one was apparently abroad. Nye returned to the bar-room, and stood for a moment, gazing in horror, at the corpse and the sickening pool of blood. ** ($00 acious! This beats the Dutch!” he goliloquized. ‘‘Here’s Joe Mora been knifed, and no one knows who did it. It can’t be he knifed himself, for I know I heard two persens enter the saloon, while I was in the cellar, and I heard ’em talk, though I was too busy to pay any attention to what they were saying. Who- ever did the job took care to get out mighty quick; and, more than that, the men were onl tn the room a few minutes ere [ heard the fall. They must have been quarreling when they en- tered. Whocan have did the deed—that’s the question? I do not know a man in You Bet who held a grudge against Joe Mora,” Thus soliloquized konest Nick Nye, as he stared at the rigid figure upon the floor. Finally, however, he awoke to the fact that something must be done, and so rushed once more from the Lone Deer to the nearest cabin, and gave an alarm—then to other dwellings. You Bet was not so extensive a place but what, in the course of ten minutes, the whole camp was aroused, and collected at the saloon. | And naturally, as Joseph Mora was one of the foremost citizens of the place, the excitement over the murder ran high. Not only did he own some valuable mining- claims in the vicinity, but was possessed of a large sum of money, on which he was wont to speculate. In other words, he was known in You Bet, and-adjacent mining-districts, as a money- lender, and a man who never lost the best of a bargain, If a person needed money, he could always get it, subject to a big ‘‘shave,” providing he could give undoubted security. It was principally in this way Mora made his wealth, ! Despite the fact that money-shavers, as a rule, secure the dislike of a community, J oseph Mora was thought well of in You Bet, for, out- gide of his business, he was liberal and unselfish, Sunflower Sam, of Shasta. and mingled freely with all classes, and had a pleasant word for everybody. Hence the surprise at his being stricken down by the hand of an unknown assassin, He had a family, consisting of his wife, an adopted daughter named Bly Barron, and a nephew named Max Mora. he adopted daughter was one of the sweetest and prettiest maidens in all Arizona’s sunny clime—just seventeen, and ripening into a glo- rious young womanhood. She was a sunny-haired creature, with pleas- ant features, hazel eyes, and a prettily-rounded petite figure; her manners were refined and charming, and her conversational powers born of keen intellect, and a fine education, Max Mora was rather a dashing* and hand- some young man, but, unfortunately, was both lazy and dissolute in his habits, and there seem- ed no likelihood that he would ever “set the world on fire.” Despite these facts he had always appeared to be a favorite with his uncle, who, while not ex- actly taking him into his business, kept him supplied with money, the money always going for drink or games. The excitement became intense, as the people crowded into and about the Lone Deer, to get a view of the dead man, and Nick Nye was more than once called upon to relate what he knew of the murder, The deputy-sheriff of the camp, Peleg Gray, was about the last one, excepting Max Mora, to arrive upon the scene, and he reviewed the re- mains with moisture in his eyes, for he and the dead speculator had been warm. personal friends, ‘** Boyees, this hyer’s a durned shame!” he cried, taking off his hat, and wiping the perspi- ration from his forehead. ‘*‘Some meen cuss hes knifed Joe Mora, who war as squar’ a man as ever tuk his whisky straight, an’ now, I want ter know who did it? Ef ther galoot is present, let him step for’a’d, an’ acknowledge ther corn, as there will be no use ©’ his tryin’ ter screen his- self o’ ther crime, fer et’s an old sayin’, an’ truer than gunpowder, that ‘ murder will out!’ ‘*Ther man as stuck a knife inter Joe Mora hev got ter swing, and I’m goin’ ter hev a hand on ther rope thet yanks him!” This declaration was greeted with a murmur of applausa from the bystanders. ‘* Tt’s mighty queer who did the job,” said a miner. ‘Queer! why on course it’s queer!” snorted Gray. ‘Ther’ wasn’t a man in ther camp but what were on good terms wi’ Mora. Ain’t I right, boys?—did ye ever hear a galoot say as he had anything ag’in’ him? Ef ye did, jest name ther galoot, and we’ll investigate ther matter, at once, an’ don’t ye fergit it!” But, no one made answer, except by negative shakes of their heads. If any one in the crowd ever had expressed enmity toward Joseph Mora, now was the time he would be the least inclined to admit the fact, for Peleg Gray was a sort of terror-to evil doers, in and around You Bet, as he was a firm advo- cate of lynch law, was a dead shot, and the chief of the local Vigilance Committee, whose record showed that they had visited vengeance upon a score or more of lawbreakers, Word had already been sent to the Mora dwelling, to warn the family, and shortly after the deputy’s arrival, Max Mora put in an ap- pearance. He was tall, dark-complexioned,. and quite oh perauginany of appearance, with his graceful lack mustache and curling hair, and his jetty eyes, whose magnetic gaze seemed to have the power to pierce‘a person through and through. ** Good Heaven! who committed this crime?” he demanded, as he rushed into the saloon, and knelt beside the dead uncle. ‘‘ Speak, quick! ate one, tell me who struck down poor uncle 0e | **That’s what no one knows, young man!” de- clared Peleg, ‘‘ Nick, thar, war down cellar, an’ when he heerd a fall, and rushed up-stairs, he found yer uncle layin’ thar, dead, an no one else in the saloon, or to be seen or heerd, in ther neighborhood, Thar’s suthin’ mighty queer about ther job. I don’t allow yer uncle killed hisself, fer Nick allows he heerd two voices in ther bar-room, afore he heerd ther fall!” ‘*No! Uncle was not a man that would take his own life, for he had no trouble to drive him to such a rash act,” Max replied, thoughtfully. ‘* Nor do I think he had an .enemy, in the wide world. He was always of a disposition to make friends, rather than enemies, as I presume you are all aware!” ‘‘Yas, ye’r’ right, thar,” several voices re- sponded ina chorus. | es ; i> ( . ‘ Ay weal x GX © ) ( ‘* Maybe some cuss knifed him, ter git his wallybles!” suggested a miner. ‘If so, they didn’t take bis diamond pin,” Max replied, as ne proceeded .to search the pocsa of the dead man, ‘‘ No, his wallet is 1ere, and contains money. Let me see”-—and he counted over the contents—‘t here is a thou- sand dolNars, even. That's more than he usu- ally carried about his person. ** No, boys, this foul murder was not commit ted for money. It was done for a revengeful and vicious purpose, and I will take the respon- sibility upon myself of offering this thousand dollars as a reward to the man or men, who hunt down the murderer of my uncle!” “Then, stranger, providing there ain’t any exorbitant entrance fee, I allow you can count me in for the race—me ther sunny-natured Sun- flower Samuel, from soaring Shasta!” cried a sportive-looking individual as he elbowed his way into the crowded bar-room, , CHAPTER II. THE SHASTA DETECTIVE. STRANGERS were won't to arrive in You Bet, at all hours of the day and night, and by vari- ous ways of transportation; but few came who would be apt to attract more attention than the man who pushed his way into the Lone Deer Saloon. He was a young man of good figure, evident- ly lithe and strong as a mountain lion. He had a round, healthful, handsome face, with brown, penetrating eyes, a pleasant mouth that yet was capable of great firmness of expres- sion. A curling black mustache graced his lip, and hair of the same color fell in a wavy mass upon his shoulders, from beneath the rim of his sombrero! His attire consisted of a pair of patent-leather knee boots, met by a pair of brown-velvet pants; a gold band encircled his waist, in which was thrust a single revolver; then came a finely pleated white shirt, and a jacket of spotless white, bound with gold fringe. Instead of wearing jewelry upon his shirt front, as would have been in keeping with his make-up, he wore three sunflowers, the size of a silver haif-dollar in the plaee of bosom-studs. Such was the person who pushed his way in- to the Lone Deer Saloon, with the announce mént that he was on hand, and ready to under- take the job of hunting down the murderer of Joseph Mora. As he had paused within the little circle sur- rounding the corpse, he took off his hat and bowed respectfully, more particularly to Max Mora than to any one else. ‘‘xcuse my abrupt intrusion,” he said; ‘‘ but, I just happened to hear of the murder, and’ concJuded I might te of some service.” ‘‘Who are you?” Max Mora demanded, sur- veying him rather Cri iceingty: ‘*As I announced before, am Sunflower Sam, from Shasta.” . pe Humph! One would judge by your appear- ance that you were some crank just broke loose from an asylum !’ Mora retorted, betraying his disgust. ‘* What is your real name?” ‘* As Sunflower Sam you see me; as Sunflower Sam I eat, drink, sleep and fight.’ Therefore, if you’re desircus of engaging my services, I am at your command,” ‘*T shall engage no one, sir. My offer is open to all, but with a hope that some fellow-towns: man may win the reward, Now, deputy, if you” and some of the boys will lend a hand, we will carry my dead uncle home.” There were plenty of volunteers, and the body of the dead speculator was raised and borne from the saloon. Although You Bet was mostly made up of: rough shanties and cabins, there were a couple of large and attractive dwellings, one of which was occupied by the Moras, while the other was the residence of Augustin Andre. To the residence that had only a few hours before known him as a live man the body of Joseph Mora was taken by a half-dozen miners, while others who had congregated at the saloon brought up the rear in double file; Sunflower Sam walking in the rear of all. When the residence was reached the bearers were admitted with the body, but the door was immediately closed, so that none of the crowd could get in. They, however, hovered around on the out- side, seeming loth to leave the vicinity, The curtains on the windows, however, had been drawn, and there seemed little prospect of anything being seen or learned by remaining out- side; so Sunflower Sam turned and walked back toward the business part of the app ph a en 8 were the Lone Deer Saloon, the hotel ca