Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 478 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

Last Lick was situated in one of the most wild, rugged and picturesque canyons of the moun- tains of northern Colseaan. The bluffs sloping away gradually on the north, were clad in pine and cedar, whose foliage caught the sunlight and, like a great mirror reflected it in dazzling splendor against the dark frowning cliffs that hung over the camp on the south. Eastward the view was abruptly shut off by the hills, but westward up the canyon the distant mountain ranges could be dimly seen rising specter-like Sut of the blue haze and mist of heaven. Last Lick was a mining-camp in every sense of the word, and since the outputs of minerals had been exceedingly rich, the place soon gained a local reputation that drew from other campsa class of men the place would have been much better off without. Gamblers and bummers flocked in from far and near. Cowboys from the Laramie Plains, also, came down occasionally and made merry with the miners and roughs and free with their revolvers to such an extent that the departure of those who lived through the **mellow round-up,” as they were wont to term aa visits, was hailed with a feeling of great relief, But it was seldom in the’glare of the sunlight that a pistol-shot, or an angry, disturbing voice was heard. Crime and drunkenness sought the deepest shadows of night in Last Lick, for there was a Vigilance Committee in the camp noted for its promptness of action in all cases that re- quired their attention, and when, on that sum- mer eve, that wail of agony rung through the camp while yet the skv was ablaze with radiant sunbeams, every map that heard it started with a shudder and involuntarily grasped the weapon at his hip, Their first thoughts were of Indians, for ther) had been rumors of threatened troubles from this source, and this fear grew almost intoa panic when, a few minutes later, the newsspread through the camp that Judge Benoni Randall lay dying from a cruel wound inflicted by a barbed arrow that had been shot froma strong bow wielded by a strong and skillful arm! The judge was unconscious when found, and before his daughter, a fair, sweet girl of seven- teen, could reach his side he was dead, And his death became enshrouded in mystery, fora care- ful search of the surrounding country convinced all that not a red-skin was within fifty miles of the place, That the judge was the victim of the murder- ous band of a white man, who had chosen the bow and arrow with which to do the deed be- cause it could be wielded in silence, there was but little doubt, and so a v gorous and thorough search for the assassin was at once made, ~ lt was not known that Judge Randall had an ememy incamp. He was one of those upright exemplary men whom all, high and low, loved and admired. He was honest, kind and intelli- gent, and was looked upon in Last Lick as its leading citizen. He: was a widower with one child, Zulima, a fair and lovely girl whom all idolized for her gentleness and kindness of heart and as the miners gathered about,the prostrate form of the dead man, and heard the heartrend- ing cries of this poor orphaned girl, their hearts were touched with the deepest sympathy and from many an eye was brushed a tear. And the sun, as if with shame, hid his red face behind the distant mountain range, and then the shadows of night began to gather in the valley as the shadows of sorrow had gathered in the breasts of the miners. The body of the murdered man was removed to Lis cabin and an inquest held. On the day following it was consigned to the grave in the valley under the m vines, Poor Zulima was so far as relatives in the camp was ¢c , but she was not without friends. Wild and wicked as the camp was, every man and woman was eager and anx- ious to do something for her. And there were several pure and noble women there, whose sis- terly and motherly love did much to lighten her burden of sorrow, However, Zulima would have left the camp, and sought relatives in the East, had it not been that her father’s claim was one of the best pay- ing in the place, and that two or three of her father’s friends volunteered to superintend her interest in the mime, and defend her honor so long as she should remain. Being a brave and sensible girl, and now wholly dependent upon herself for a livelihood, she took up her cross with all the determination and fortitude of a Christian woman. In Sybil Bell, daughter of Major Robert_Bell, who came to Last Lick after the death of Judge Randall, Zulima found a warm friend and com- panion. Sybil was a young lady of two-and- avec _ ~ - 2, gp = . i » bg Abs ol s a P “, * P ‘ a i old Tom Rattler, ee ee es —— twenty, perhaps. She was a dark-eyed, be- witching little beauty, with an imperious bear- ing and a strange fascination shining from the depths of her wonderful eyes, She and Zulima met the day that she and her father came to the camp, anda mutual attrac- tion seemed to spring up between them. Zulima invited her to her home, and’ the result of the intimacy was that the major and his que-nly daughter found themselves installed in tle Ran- dall cabin with Zulima and her old servant, Tom Redrow, and his wife Deborah, where they were to remain until Mr. Bell could erect a home of — his own, In the mean time energetic efforts were being made to hunt down the murderer of Judge Ran- dall. So effectually had the assassin covered up his tracks that there were some who thought it possible that the judge had suicided, but this idea was soon dismissed when it was shown that it was utterly impossible for the judge to have et by his own hand in the manner that he did. After the Vigilantes had the case was given into the detectives, and, stimulated by the promise of a large reward, they worked as men never worked before, but all without avail. So finally the case was given up as one of those unfathomable Sac that only the day of judgment could reveal, herp up the search, ands of scouts and REV. PAUL POSTLE. MONTHS have passed cince the mysterious death of Judge Randall. Kvidently the search for the assassin had long since been discontinued, albeit there wasa stand- ing reward for the apprehension oi the villain; but the people, busy as they were, and varied as were the changes and excitements of the camp, had not forgotten the dead man, nor did they neglect the comfort of his child. n the mean time, Major Robert Bell had been a father, friend and counselor to Zulima, and in fact had, in a measure, filled the place that Judge Randall had occupied in the hearts of the miners. His daughter youl had been a sister and companion to the orphaned girl and partook largely of her father’s popularity. Tp to this time the spiritual welfare of Last Lick had been almost wholly neglected. It is true, a minister of the Gospel, who had sought the mountain air for his health, had visited the camp some months before,.and seeing the field unoccupied, endeavored to organize a meeting, but his efforts proved an ignominious failure simply because the roughs of the place attended ina arpa and broke up the meeting, while the better elements of the camp were too busy to give attention to matters of so little importance to the place that they did not expect to make their home permanently. But one day there came a second minister to the camp, or rather a gentleman who registered at the hotel as Rey, Paul Postle, and who soon gave out the word that he had come there to organize a religious meeting. This news proved i unwelcome to the gamblers and bummers, and resulted in their promptly calling a meeting totake action in the matter, and devise ways and means by which the Apostle Paul, as they had quickly transposed his name, should be sup- pressed, for they were “old-timers,” and knew that a religious excitement in a mining-camp— an exceptional thing, indeed—was sure death to their business. The result of the meeting was the appoint- ment of Cale Bunce, Grizzly Dave and Sonora Steve—the latter a half-breed Mexican—as a committee to wait on the reverend gentleman and notify him that his room was far more pre- ferable than his presence, and escort him beyond the confines of the camp and admonish him not to return under penalty of death. These three men were bullies and desperadoes who, their friends knew, would have no conscientious scruples about making away with the preacher, |. or the way they did it. That afternoon when most of the miners were at work and all was quiet in camp, the trio called at the hotel where the preacher was sto ping. The place was kept by a fat and jolly old German named Luke Freiner, who, in con- nection with the house, kept a bar where one or two kinds of liquors of uncertain quality were sold. The ‘‘ Pick-and-Shovel,” as the pro- prietor had facetiously named his house, was the only hotel in the camp, hence the preacher had no choice of lodging-places. _ Besides the proprietor, but a single person was in the bar-room when the three bullies en- tered. This person was a youth of perhaps eighteen years. His dress was evidence of his Px a Ee : mu 2 : a Ry, 7 Png = hon ‘ \ Seapcagre 4 ew aS as ; a ; ee a ' “oy a \ ana oo having recently come from the States. He was a stupid, sleepy-looking boy, who scarcely glanced at the trio when they entered. ‘*How you does, shentelmen?”’ said Freiner stepping behind the bar to wait on his supposed customers, ree the same old way,” was Grizzly Dave's reply. ane what you takes, eh?” asked the land- ord, ‘Greek fire, if you’ve nothin’ stouter,” was the reply. ** Greek fire ”’—a local name for bad whisky-- was set out, and the three helped themselves. ‘*'Who’s that kid you’ve got there, Luke?” asked Cale Bunce, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the sleepy-looking boy. ‘*His name is Albert Joslin—he ish a tender- feet poy what runs away and cooms Vest t« grow mit de country up.” ‘*He’s been readin’ some o’ them ’are bad story papers and ’s come out here to be a hero, and kill road-agents and Ingins, and have a big bumo’a time. But ther West don’t have to import its heroes—they grow here eh, Grizzl Dave? But I say, Sour-krout, that boy s dread- ful homesick. ou can tell that by the lop o’ his lip. Say, boy, be you sleepy?” ‘* Naw, I’m not,” drawled the boy, sullenly. “Won't ye have somethin’ to drink? Come up and e a glass o’ water, anyhow, can’t ey ‘* Don’t want no water,” was the boy’s reply. **T say, Cale,” said Grizzly Dave, aside, ‘* that ‘are boy’s not so green and sleepy as he might be fu’st thing ye know.” ‘“‘ Pll look furder bout that, after while,” re- plied Bunce, then turning to Freiner, continued: ‘Dutch, [ understand you’ve got a new lodger —come yesterday?” ‘* Yaw; a pray-mans, yesterday.” ‘* Where is he now?” asked Sonora Steve. ‘*In his room—he sthays there much time— read he Pible me ’sphecks.” ‘Will you tell him to step out herc?” said Grizzly. ‘‘ Tell him that three gentlemen wants to interview him.” ‘** Shentlemens,” repeated Luko with a gri ‘yaw, I tells him dot,” and he waddled off an soon returned accompanied by the preacher. At sight of the stranger the three roughs ex- changed giances and then broke into a loud, coarse laugh. But this conduct did not discon- cert the parson at all, and advancing he bowed politely to the three men, saying: ‘* My host informs me three gentlemen wisk to see Paul Postle. I am that man.” an odd- The preacher was, most decidedly looking person. He was apparently fifty yeare of age. He was tall and angular with a thin, bony face sparsely covered with gray whiskers, His long, thin hair was thrown back behind his ears in a “reverential” way. His mouth was rather large and wreathed in a seriov-comical expression that suggested the clown rather than the preacher. He was clad in a suit of well-worn and shiny broadcloth that fit him like the pro- verbial “ shirt ona bean-pole.” In fact, in most respects, he had the meek and quiet air of a minister of the gospel, but there was a lack of grace and symmetry in his form, and a kind of sublime slouchiness in his dress that provoked the ais Se into laughter. ‘* Wal, Preacher Postle,” said Grizzly Dave im reply to Postle’s introductory remarks, ‘I’m known in this camp as Grizzly Dave; that coyote is Cale Bunce, and that yaller-belly is Sonora Steve.” ‘* Very odd names, I declare,” said the parson, ‘but suggestive I presume. I’m glad to make your acquaintance, gentlemen.” ** Mebby as what you'll have some Greek fire with us, parson,” said Grizzly. ** Some what, sir?” ““ Greek fire—suthin’ to cut the cobwebs outen your throat—do you catch on?” “T think I do,” said Postle; ‘no, thank you. I never indulge in liquor, gentlemen, My call- ing forbids it.” ** but the custom o’ this camp requires that new: comers drink to the health 0’ the place, and that custom can’t nor sha’n’t be violated.” ‘*T can freely drink to the health of the camp in a glass of water—pure, sweet, sparklin water—God’s beverage—distilled in the dews He coom day ’gainst the heaven,” replied the preacher. ; ‘* Water—water,” repeated Dave, reflectively ,. then turning to Freiner, asked: ‘‘ Sour-mash, you. keep that brand o drinks?” ‘* Yaw—to wash my glasses in. A leetle drops on your face might your comblexion do some goot.” | mM ." Oh, that’s what they all say.” replied Dave, — * ” ta: _ comic 900