Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 467 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

--__—- ** Must we leave ‘the window open?” ** Yes; the room is so small and warm that we will almost suffocate if we close it. I have drawn the curtain, though, and no one can look **I do not know why itis,” said Bessie; ‘‘ but I have a strange foreboding—an apprehension that we are in danger. I wish the window could be secured, Can you not fasten the low- er part and open the upper?” “There is but one sash to it,” answered Edith, ‘‘and that opens and closes by sliding. I will close it half-way—there, now it is all _, at Vhen Bessie had beep guided to her place, Edith put out the light and joined her, ‘* Bessie, dear,” she said, *‘I believe I have found a clew to our father’s fate.” ‘*You have?” “Yes; I think I have found one who knew him.” ‘* And who is he?” ‘The man who calls himself Barton Barker— the one who gave the fifty-dollar coin which I would not accept.” ** And why do you think he knows something of our father?’ ‘* Because when I mentioned father’s name he turned as pale as death for an instant, and had to grasp the bar for support; and then, when I held fatner’s likeness up before his eyes, I thought he would faint.” ‘* And you say 1t was he who put the fifty- dollar coin into your hat for us?” ‘* Yes; I saw him do it.” ‘‘ Bessie, if any man has ever wronged our father and us, Barton Barker is the man. I be- lieve we are near the end of our search.” Bessie Baker’s fear was not without good foundation. When Karlo Kenton had entered The Den, shortly after the twin sisters had gone away with Ben Bantam, Barton Barker, the “ saint,” called him aside at once, as we said at the close of the last preceding chapter, “Great Scott.” the “parson” exclaimed; ‘‘ what is the matter, Char—” ‘* Hist, you fool!” the “saint” quickly cau- tioned. ‘‘ How many thousand times must I warn you about my name?” ‘Only a slip, pard; and no one heard it. But what is the matter? Have you seen a ghost?” ‘* No, I have not seen a ghost; I wish I had. I have seen real flesh and blood, though.” ‘* Well, who have you seen?” ‘“‘T have seen two young girls who are look- ing for their father, and their father’s name— was—BARTON BAKER.” ‘*Good God!” If the “‘ saint” was pale, the “ parson” turned paler still. 6 But,” he said, ‘they cannot discover any- thing. ‘**Po not be too sure of that,” retorted the ‘‘saint.” ‘They have a clew already.” ‘*The deuce they have!” 6 pes and I gave it to them.” sé hun—” “Hold on, hold on; not so loud. I'll te’ you how it was, I was standing there by the bar when she mentioned that name, aiid t thought my knees would give out and let me drop.” ‘6-You said there were two,” ‘‘-Yes, but one is blind,” ‘¢ Well, go on.” ‘¢ Well, the other one noticed the start I gave, and went for me at once, *T denied all knowledge of such a man, but hang me if she didn’t push a photograph of him right under my nose. ‘Oh! I gave myself dead away, sure,” ‘* And what are we going todo about it?” ‘‘Tn the first place, did you recover that ay”? as No, curse the luck! I didn’t, Pard, that paper has mysteriously disappeared,” The ‘‘saynt” ripped out an oath that was enough to have put out the lights, ‘‘ Where has it gone to?” he demanded. “T fancy Jim has turned it over to that sport.” **T tell you, Wal—” nae ‘Took out! Who is slipping up on names now?” “I meant tosay ‘parson.’ I tell you what it is—we have got to play a bold game, or get up and ‘git.’ Which shall it be?” You mean give up our grip here? Never!” ‘Very well, then, two things have got to be done. ‘In the first place, Jim and that sport must e, ‘You're right!” Jp ay ee ROMA, f ' : % m2 ate a rik » , ¢ Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude. *‘In the second place—these girls have got to be spirited out of this town to-night, and put where they cannot do us harm,” ‘You don’t mean—” ‘IT mean that we will hide them away, and then— Yes, by heavens, a good idea! We'll force them to marry us. ‘ 14 sul, enough said. We're drawing atten- ion. CHAPTER XII. DISCO DAN’S DECOY, LET us now return to Disco Dan and Red-eye Jim, whom we left confined in Pete Hanker’s old cabin and guarded by four men. As soon as the *‘ parson” had gdne away, the ares locked the door, and the ‘ Daisy ude” and the ‘* cyclone” were left alone, “Now, Mr. Red-eye,” Dan soon whispered, wid | ae se that you would like to have that gag out of your mouth, wouldn’t you? You can’t answer me, but Pll take it for granted that you would, ** Just see if you can pull this way far enough to reach me.” Jim ‘‘pulled” and ‘the two prisoners found they dont get their heads together very com- fortably. ‘Good enough!” Dan exclaimed. added: ‘* Now, Jim, if you'll say you won’t shout out and let those fellows outside know what we’re up to, Pll set your tongue free. Can you keep still? Give a grunt if you mean ‘ yes’.” Jim grunted. Very well,” said Dan. ‘‘ Now, just put your head over this way again and let me get hold of that gag with my teeth.” Red-eye did as he was directed, and Disco Dan Fy had hold of the gag, and then he began to pull. Jim pulled too, and in a moment they had the satisfaction of feeling the gag give a little: and in & moment mors it slipped out of its wearer’s mouth and over his chin. ‘* Gol dast the’r ugly pictur’s!” cried the * cy- clone” under his breath, “‘ef I don’t git squar’ <3 this, ye kin jest call me a seven-octave-B-flat iar! _“* But, my dear fellow,” said Dan, everything bids fair for our being jerked hence with but little show for our money if we remain here.” ‘An’ we won't stay heur! We must git vuto’ this heur fix, pardner, if it takes th’ hair off.” _** And I agree with you there. I have no de- sire toclimb the golden stairs just yet, Jim; I’ve got work to do before I go. ‘‘ Now, I want to ask you a few questions.” ‘All right; fire away, pardner,” ‘* Now, in the first ope neither of us can get out of here without the other's help, and what I want to know is this: ** After we do get out, are you going to work for me or against me?” ‘I’m for ye, pardner, every time; sure pop!” ‘‘ Suppose I prove tobe Midnight Dan, as they say I am, how will it be then?” ‘It'll be jest th’ same. I'll be yer leftenant, er anything ye say.” ‘Then you do not hold any grudge against me on account of our fight?” ** What, after th’ way ye kept that ’ar paper ferme? No, sir-ee! Nota bit!” ‘‘ By the way, Jim, what became of the paper? I thought the ‘parson’ would get it sure when he went for your pocket. What did you do wn on ‘“ Why, I simply didn’t put it into m ket. I jest made sariats do s0, but let it Seen vhs down inside my shirt. I kin feel it down in my boot now.” ™ Then you thought he would try to get it again, did you?” * “In course I did! Why, th’ ‘ parson’ an’ his yard, th’ ‘saint,’ would almost give their right ands fer this paper, you bet.” + Why 2” ‘*’*Cause it’s valuable to’em. I tell ye, though, they won’t git it while 7 kinkick. It jest makes my livin’, this heur dockyment does; an’ I wouldn't take a farm fer it.” ‘‘ How does it make your living for you? I do not understand.” c Why, ye see I knows a leetle secret o’ theirs, an have got this paper ter prove it; an’ as long as I kin hold th’ paper, I kin make ’em ‘ pony up’ th’ ducats, D’ye savvey?” Well, yes, I begin to catch on, Jim, I don’t suppose you would take me in asa partner to work the claim with you, would you?’ Would you deal square?” ‘Of course I would. And it would bea good thing for you, too; for it looks to me as though And he ii these men are about tired of you, Jim, and meam to cut you down in your prime. It is a wonder they badn’t done it before.” ‘* An’ they would, too; but I jest made my- self a holy terror ’round heur, an' kept my eyes wide open, an’ they didn’t like ther job o’ tack- lin’ me.” ‘** And they’ll be all the more determined to do it now, won’t they?” **T reckon they will.” ‘Well, if you take me i#o the secret as your partner, it will put you on more of an equal footing with them. As it stands now, they are two to one against you.” ‘Yes, that’sso. But say, are you Midnight Dan?” ‘** No, I am not. me to,” ** Then who be ye?” ‘I’m Disco Dan; a roving sport who lives by his wits,” ‘‘ An’ ye'll deal square?” ** Yes, I will.” ‘* Then I'll let’ ye come in fer shares, pervided ye kin figger ter git us out o’ this mess.” “Oh! I 1aven’t the least doubt but we can get out of here, but we must wait until the town be- comes quiet and the citizens are asleep. You’ve got plenty of time to tell me your story.” ‘*T ain't goin’ to tell ye no story, though, pard; I’m jest goin’ ter give ye th’ cue to th’ racket.” ‘* Well, give me that, then. I don’t suppcse I need care about the full history of the case.” ‘* No, there’s no need ter tell ye any more than that. ‘* Ye see, all that’s necessary is ter go to th’ ‘parson’ or th’ ‘ saint,’ an’ tell em if they don’t fork over ye'll blow out on that little H street affair in San Francisco. ‘“* They'll pony up then, you tet!” Could Red-eye Jim have seen the sport’s face just then, he would have been startled by its ex- pression of exultation. He would have believed that Disco Dan was really something more than he appeared to be. And in truth he was. ‘* But, Jim, suppose they corner me down to prove what I know, what shall I sa y then?” ‘Why, jest say ‘Barton Baker’ to ’em, an’ see how they'll take that.” ‘* All right, I will And now we're pards. I’m to back you, and you’re to back me, through thick and thin.” ‘Jest so. An’ now s’pcse we try an’ git loose.” “Allright. First of all, though, what sort of pole is this we are tied to?” ‘Why, it’s only a pole that Pete used ter hang his skins an’ blankets on. It’s only stuck into hole-,” Jim answered. ‘**Then take bold and we'll see if we can’t get it out of one hole by pushing it further into the other. Are you ready?” ‘Yes, all ready, pard ” They exerted their :trength on the pcle, but failed to move it. ‘Try it the other way,” Dan whispered, They did so, and this time with success, The ile slipped further into the hole nearest Disco- Dan, and Red-eye Jim’s end came entirely out. ‘Bully fer you!” Jim cautiousiy exclaimed. ‘What's th’ next move?” ‘‘ Well, Pll hold the pole steady, and you see if you can’t slip along toward the end of it and get free.” Dan held the pole as steady as he could, and Red-eye Niet a along toward the end of it. It was not an easy task, for his bands were secured to the pole; but inch by inch he worked along, and at last the cords that bound him slipped off at the end of the pole. ‘‘Heur I be, pard,” ke whispered, as soon as’ he was thus far free. ‘‘ Good enough!” Dan respended. ‘‘ Now see if you can get your hands loose entirely.” The rope had plenty of slack now, where it had been around the pole, and the ‘‘ cyclone” found but little difficulty in getting bis hands free altogether. ‘“Heur I be!” he cried, joyfully, “as chipper asa bluebird! They’re goin’ fer to hang Red- eye Jim to-morrer, be they? Wal, 1 ruther reckon they won't!” ‘*Hist! Not too loud!” Disco Dan cautioned.. ‘* Do not spoil it all. Jim, when we are just on the point of success.” ‘No, ye’re right. I'll be a leetle more keerfuF how I shoot off my mouth, ‘‘Now, I reckon you'd like ter be sot free, wouldn’t ye?” ‘1 certainly would, Jim, and no mistake.” ‘* Wal, Pll see what I kin do fer ye, then.” Red-eye stepped around behind the sport, and Ill swear to it, if you wart