Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 469 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

“eS ¢. ae 6 or eee ““what was she to the alcalde—wife, sister, or sweetheart?” ** A sister, she claimed; at all events, a rarely beautiful creature,” replied the hunchback, re- filling his glass. **Aha! Go on,” said St. Elmo, impatiently, a strange glow in his blue oyes. ‘** Well, the Yankeo struck the weapon from my hand, and shoved the muzzle of his bulldog revolver under my nose in a way that was alto- gether savage. I knew then that J was out of the game. I tell you, gents, that walking graveyard relic isn’t so innocent as he looks, He’s rank poison, depend upon it.” © ‘And the woman, what of her?” queried St. Elmo,as the speaker paused to swallow his liquor. “Oh, she flung herself upon the half-dead giant, calling him ‘ Ronald, my brother.’ Had the boys acted with a grain of sense, things would have ended differently. Two or three well-directed bullets would have rid Nowhar of both the alcalde and the Yank. But our crowd stood open-mouthed until Jeems Rivers and a fresh body of the Yellow-Boy men appeared, then scattered in the dark, leaving the game in the hands of our foes. Jn the cotteaite 1 got off with the others.” ‘** And lucky at that,” commented Faro Frank. ‘* Yes, he was fortunate to escape; for Rivers hates him above all the galoots of Nowhar, and you may be sure would lose no chance to do him up,” said St. Elmo, staring moodily at Dunkle. “ But it really is a shame that the alcalde slip- d through our fingers, after our having brown away the lives of Jabez Fourche and Truthful Joe, m weaving a web to entangle him, The affair has been sadly mismanaged in some of its details,” ‘** Tt was no fault of mine that King Gabe es- caped the noose,” grimly protested the hunch- back, a steely ring in his voice. ‘‘And for the present, St. Elmo, count me out of the fight. ‘When I have wiped out that cursed Yankee, you will again find me pitted against tho alcalde —not before.” **Soho!” exclaimed Shasta Sam, his black eyes sparkling. ‘* Then, since I have cast. my Jot with th’ so-called ‘hard crowd’ ov Nowhar, allow me to take your placw in this deadly game, My fingers itch for a chance at th’ throat ov Buzzard Bill; thar is an old score between us ov years’ standin’. Monterey Merle must bs avenged,” ‘**Bravo!” cried St. Elmo. ‘‘ What say you, Jads—shall it be giant against giant?’ **Why not? I, for one,am sure that King Gabe will find in our big friend here a foeman worthy of his steel,” observed Faro Frank, . The hunchback’s thin, bloodless lips curled contemptuously. Ws Anal am equally sure ‘our big friend here’ will catch a Tartar,” he rejoined, with a sneer. ** But [ have no objection to offer—the arrange- ment promises a funeral or two. My hobby, you know, St. Elmo.” | ‘Trust me to handle th’ Tartar—yow look out for th’ Yank, dear boy, else you may lead th’ van on th’ mournful occasion you mention,” lightly retorted Shasta Sam. **Our misshapen little pard is slightly ont of humor, nettled by his unexpected defeat,” said St. Elmo, half apologetically, to the dark Her- cules. ‘‘He has spoken, and the days of the meddling Yank are numbered.” ** As are th’ alcalde’s,” quickly returned Shas- ta Sam. ‘‘ Mark it, gentlemen. Ere ten days have come and gone, this giant ov th’ golden Jocks shall pass fror: time into eternity.” ** And the girl?’ queried Faro Frank, nipping the end of a cigar with his sharp, white teeth. St. Elmo laughed softly. “Pll attend to her,” he replied. ‘‘ In his dy- ang moments, I want the alcalde to know that the dainty beauty is a captive in my hands,” The eyes of the dark Hercules glowed yet amore brightly. ** You propose to—” ““T propose to abduct the girl,” interrupted the gambler. ‘I have formed a plan of action. We will steal away the little beauty, and em- ploy ber asa means of luring the giant to de- struction.” ‘“* A capital idea,” observed Faro Frank, ** Capital,” assented Shasta Sam. “It will simplify matters greatly. 6 are all working against the alcalde; we shall all obtain our re- venge. I want th’ murderer ov Monterey Merle to suffer th’ torments ov th’ damned. I hate m a2 si Not a tenth as bitterly as I do,” declared Julian St. Elmo, bringing his clinched hand down upon the table with a force that made the bottles dance. ‘‘ Not only dol hate him, but I Wear him; for—” The Rival Giants of Nowhar. ----—-——. Checking himself, the gambler glanced sus- piciously at his confreres. ** For—what?” asked Faro Frank. ‘*For several very good reasons,” answered St. Elmo, laughing nervously. ‘‘ Let that suf- fice. A man shouldn’t grow too confidential, you know, even with the best of his friends.” “Oho! oho! So there’s a skeleton in the closet of our dainty sport!” sneered the hunch- back. ‘‘ Probably the lordly King Gabe holds the key to the secret. It’s a wise saying that ‘dead men tell no tales.’ Fiil, boys, and let’s drink success to St. Elmo!” ~-CHAPTER V. A CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. THE warm, golden light of the morning sun, entering at the open door, lay in a broad belt across the rough puncheon floor of the office of the Yellow Boy Mince, bringing out in strong re- lief the dark, stern look mantling the rugged face of Jeems Rivers, the superintendent, Pacing restlessly up and dowry the length of the strong slab shanty, his gray eyes fixed on the floor, his brawny hands clasped behind him, the old miner strove hard to curb a feeling of impa- tience. Pausing anon at the open door, he cast a sweeping, expectant look up and down the narrow valley, only to resume his monotonous walk with a half-surly chake of his gray head, and a muttered imprecation. ‘* Tt are more than sing’lar thet peekin’, pryin’, windin’-blades don’t come,” he exclaimed, say- agely jerking his slouch hat well down over his eyes, ‘*I kin onderstand why King Gabe are not hyar, but this Trotter beats me. Wot on airth this alcalde meant bringin’ sech a jumpin’- jack inter ther game, I cain’t see, nohow, An’ thet Hunki Hans—sech a pair ov hothouse plants I hain’t see’d fer nigh on tera year. De- tectives, too. Dern my cats, they're no good, though ther Yank mou’t ’a’ done wuss last night, The boyees say it war a fine shot he made w’en he cut ther alcalde down. But they’re innocent cusses, an’ ther cits ov this hyar camp are jest a leetle too tuff fer ’em, Ill look ’em up.” Leaving the office, Rivers strode moodily in the direction of St. Elmo’s place, where, he con- jectured, he would be likely to hear of the man he seemed burning to meet, The gold-camp was situated in a narrow val- ley, down which eoursed a small, swiftly-flowing creek, On each side of this strcam, the precip- itous hills loftily reared their bald crests, Upon a strip of bottom-land, on the eastern bank of tho creek, were ranged the rade habitations of the Nowharites, the Fair Play being almost cen- trally located. Straightway to the saloon and gambling-den hastened Rivers, The honest miners of the camp were nearly all at work, and as it was yet far too early in the day for many of the recognized bums to be astir, the Fair Play presented a strangely grim and half-deserted look as the mine superintend- ent stalked across the threshold. All traecs of the night’s spiteful affray had been carefully obliterated, save tho numerous fresh bullet-holes in the rough walls. Along the bar, presided over by C-ckney Jim, a short, heavy-set, bull-necked Englishman, were ranged perhaps a dozen men of a type known to the gold-ca™mp as *‘ Cripples.” Dependent upon their wits for a living, an indolent, shiftless set they were, suffering all sorts of purely imaginary aches and pains as an excuse to avoid their common bugbear—work. A body unto themselves, they had in one Ugly Mike, a burly, hairy, square-jawed despe- rado, a leader whom they feared and obeyed. Ever ready for any undertaking, however dark, in which there was but little work and big pay, the Cripples were recognized as the worst element of the camp; and that they found plenty of dark, underhanded work to do was amply at- tested by the yellow dust they ever had at com- mand, Jeems Rivers’s'nose elevated itself in open dis- gust as his eyes played over the ill-odored group. Between the mine superintendent and the Crip- ples no very amiable feeling existed. ‘* Smoke—an’ whar thar’s smoke thar’s giner- ally fire!” muttered Rivers, sententiously, from sheer foree of habit dropping his hands upon the revolver butts protruding from his belt. ‘‘ Never see’d them buzzards hangin’ *bout St. Elmo’s lace yit *thout su’thin’ crooked turnin’ up a’ter, her question are, whar are Ugly Mike? In confab ’ith ther dainty sport, ov course. Bet my share in ther Yaller Boy thar are sum gamo afoot ag’in’ ther alcalde.” Upon the entrance of the mine superintendent ‘a warning look from Cockney Jim had caused a bl T complete change to take place in the bearing of the nae ge: A sudden hush came over the group, which each assumed a sickly, woe-begone expression lugubrious in the extreme. ‘*H-how are yer ru-roomatiz this mornin’, P-Pious P-Pete?” wheezed a fat, oily-looking ras- cal near the end of the bar, casting a stealthy glance at Rivers. ‘** Wuss—much wuss; was the doleful reply. Wheezy Ben?” I kin sca’cely move,” ‘An’ how are phthisic, ‘* J-jes’ ther s-same; I b-breathe—th-that are ° all,” chokingly replied the fleshy Leat, wheezin and gasping, as he raised his glass of bead liquor. ‘‘ H-heur are a t-toast: May our h-health be b- better s-soon !” And the fat fraud’s twinkling little eyes blink- ed knowingly at the reof as he allowed the fiery whisky to trickle slowly down bis throat. Smiling grimly, Rivers strode past the Crip- ples and on to the card-tables beyond the bar. Early as was the hour, half a score pf men were there, clustered closely around a faro lay- out, nearly all engaged in play. A close observer might have noticed a scarce- ly perceptible widening of the gray eyes of the mine superintendent as he scanned the group, Shasta Sam, the dark Hercules, occupied the dealer’s chair, a cool, half-insolent smile partin his full red lips just enough to reveal therowsof ~" gleaming white teeth. 4 At the giant’s right hand sat Faro Frank, with his injured arm in a sling, an exultant look upon his usually immobile face. Seated opposite to the giant dealer, cold, beady drops of perspiration cozing frcm his narrow forehead, a strangely greedy glare in bis round eyes, his long, claw-like fingers working nervous- ly, was the object of the superintendent's search, Jonathan Trotter, the Yenkee, Beside him was Hunki Hans, equelly agitated, At the end of the rough table, his nimble white fingers playing methodically upon the buttons of the cue-box, was Hump Dunkle. A sardonic grin distorted the face of tho hunchback desperado, and a sneering Ir ugebh rip- pled softly from his lips as stake s’ r stake placed by the mountain tramps droppc sutothe bank’s coffers. Two hours earlier, the two odd pards had ap- | peared at the Fair Play, jointly cafrying ihe 4 ee sm carpet-bag of the Yankee. So ab- surd was the action, so jealous the care each ex- ercised over the precious “relic,” that the hange= - ers-on at the gambling-cden readily jumped to the conclusion that the bag contained the reward of five thousand dollars offered by the alcalde the night before for the capture of the mysterious. assassin. The mountain tramps had earned the reward ky apprehending Jabez Fourche. Then, too, both had been seen shortly after daybreak prowling around the alcalde’s quarters—a fact that quickly led to a general belief in tke cor- rectness of the first surmise. Firm in the belief that a lead bad been struck that could be made to *‘ pan out’ well, the cap- pers at once conveyed the intelligence to St. {Imo, who, with the dark Hercules, Faro Frank and the hunchback, was yet in the small apart- ment at the rear of the Fair Play. ‘* It’s an opportunity that we mustn’t allow to pass, boys,” said the gambler. ‘* Five thousand dollars is a sum that isnot to be picke every day in Nowhar, even with a brace box. The money is as good as the bank’s, for it’s tem chances to one that they tackle the game.” Accordingly, the four men at once repaired to the faro tables, where with consummate cun- ning St. Elmo quickly ascertained that his cap- pers’ suspicions were well-founded. After that, — it proved an easy matter to induce Trotter and his rotund pard to hazard their suddenly ac- quired weaith, 4. During the opening deal, the gambler himself manipulated the silver box; but the appearance: of Ugly Mike and his Cripples, some fifteen minutes before the arrival of the mine superin-. tendent, led to St. Elmo giving way to the dark Hercules, while he, with the chief of the ruf- nae returned to the small room back of the: | ables, What followed proved that Shasta Sam was: an expert with the cards. At the end of the third deal, the mountain tramps were losers to: the extent of two thousand dollars, They were following exactly the same line of play, Trotter in cach instance singling out the card and plac-. in« his stake, to be followed closely by tho euton. the latter, watching the long, supple fingers of the dark Hercules as he deftly shuffled the cards.. ‘‘ Mine fr’ent, ve haf lose chust der same as a | ‘% ’ “Dat vas a pad peezness,” ruefully muttered J '