Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 478 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

take him by the ear, g Af. « Ae, ner hal i rh Oh, git along with yer monkeyin’! Set up four glasses o’ reg’ler old Greek, with hemlock and ratsbane for flavor,” exclaimed Grizzly, ‘and the parson will drink with us!” This was said in a tone calculated to forestall any further refusal; but fixing his little eyes on the rough, the parson said slowly, deliber- ately: ‘* T tell you, sir, I dow t drink!” For a moment the gamblers were silenced. There was a firmness in the man’s tone and a resolute look in his eyes that convinced the roughs that he had the courage and nerve to Back his principles of sobriety. However, all they wanted was to pick a quarrel with the parson, apd as they were three to one, they made up their minds that they would compel the parson to drink or take the consequences, **Look here, ole gospel-mill,” Grizzly Dave finally said, ‘‘ you needn’t go to buckin’ us and showiw’ your ‘ligious intolerance. You jist got to show your respects for Last Lick and her cit- erzens in the true old way pS eden mye a loud, long bumper with we three. here’s yer liquor —take it like a man and don’t foolish with Grizzly Dave! This ole Limberger here can tell you that I’m a bad, wild man from away over— e's see’d me chaw up men right in this room for refusin® to ‘reconcile’ with me, Now here, par- son, hear me—-take hold, or Pll take yer by the ears and fetch yer to the trough a-prancin’!” ‘““Stand back!” said Postle, receding a step, nis face still wearing a cool, calm and resolute look. ' Grizzly Dave saw he had an ugly customer, but he had gone too far now to back down; so he advanced to Positle’s side and reached up to But that act seemed a signal for a hidden thunderbolt, so it seemed to Grizzly Dave, to let drive into his very face and the next thing the gambler wus aware of was of rising to his feet in a dazed sort of a way at the other end of the room, ‘What done that?—what hit me?’ he asked fooking around him in bewilderment, the blood pouring from his nostrils. ‘Dot preacber-mans,” said old Luke, his red ‘face aglow with inwara delight; ‘‘he ish der Pilly Batterson what struck you—yaw, he ish der mans,” Sonora Steve and Cale Bunce were, to say the least, startled by this unexpected aggressive movement of the parson, who at once whirled, ie them, as if expecting they would attack m, The Mexican was the first to recover his pres- ence of mind, and then, true to his treacherous nature, he stooped and drawing a knife from his boot-leg, made a dart at the parson. But the Jatter was on the alert and before the villain zould strike he planted his foot in the fellow’s stomach and sent him, doubled up like a jack- knife, clear over the counter into the corner. At the same moment almost Postle gave Caie Bunce a scientific left-hander on the jaw that sent that worthy flying through the open door out into the street. Albert Joslin, the sleepy-looking young ten- derfoot seated on the opposite side of the build- ing, regarded the scene with a faint smile on his boyish face and a peculiar twinkle in his blue eyes, fm the mean time Grizzly Dave, the-bad-man- from-away-over, had regained his feet and was fumbling at his hip, where hung a six-shooter. But the parson was on the alert. He seemed to fully understand the situation and the kind of men he had to deal with, and in a twinkling— with the celerity of one accustomed to quick ‘work—he had the rough covered with a der- er, Don't dare me further} Grizzly Dave,” he This was enough. Grizzly Dave saw that he had met more than his match and was beaten. His hand swung around to its natural position empty. Se A muttered curse was upon his lips, Luke Freiner had enjoyed the punishment of the desperadoes with inward delight, but when he saw thé grizzly man-eater vanquished he laughed outright and said: “Py shimminy kraut, David, you sthumps your toe, hey? You rhuns ’g’inst up a preacher- mans what can fight like der tuyfil and pray like a saint. Grizzly Davy, 1 guess what dis shentlemans coom to Last Licks to sthay, hey? What you tinks ’pout mush and milk when you -halefs a sphoon, hey?” “Wal, g1 dang it,” said Grizzly Dave, his whole demeanor changed from that of a bully toa peaceful man, ‘‘ ye needn’t make fun 0’ a man’s misfortune. I’m no hog—I know when _ Pye enuff o’ anything. Say, parson, put down . * er : al ' . - - 4 =! - r et, <4 an ET, ; oe, be > + iad é > . , oe 44 *, a. : - ** ~ ’ Laas : . ‘ f Old To : m Rattler, _—. a ee ee ee ee that pistol and I'll call our account square. Youw’re an ole singed cat, you be, parson. I guess you’ve see’d service in a minin’-camp afore—I can tell by the way you strike, and the heavenly ease with which you swing a shooter into position. A man like you, parson, can have the eternal friendship o’ Grizzly Dave. You're no milksop 0’ a preacher, and I say now that the fu’st meetin’ you hold I want, to set right under the drip o’ the sanctuary. I’m converted Beau and, stranger, if ye have date on some o’ my blood you can figger on me as backin’ you hereafter. Ill confess that youve been too nu- merous for me, but you're the fu’st gol-danged rooster that ever give me the spur. But say, did yer bu’st Sonora Steve? He don’t seem to materialize from behind that box.” ‘* He coom ’round soon he sthraighten out der kinks out ob hesselef,” said the landlord, The Mexican heard these remarks and they seemed to exasperate him beyond control of himself, and, grasping his knife, he glided, in a crouching position, from behind the counter, and endeavored to plunge the knife into Postle’s back, and he would have sueceeded but for the prompt action of Albert Joslin, the sleepy-look- ing boy, who, like a young panther, sprung across the room and hurled the treacherous little Mexican into a corner ten feet away. ‘*Great Cott in Himmel!” exclaimed old Luke, ‘* what now preaks loose ’round here? Py shim- miny krout! more cats mit der hair cooked off dem, hey?” Sonora Steve, half rising, looked around him in a sort of confusion. His eyes met those of the young tenderfoot, who stood erect, his hith- erto sleepy eyes fixed upon him with a look like that of a young tiger. A low, muttered curse was hissed from the Mexican’s lips. The boy snarled at the outlaw and showed his teeth in a way that provoked old Luke to a fit of silent laughter. The Mexican rose to his feet and grasped his knife as if preparing to leap upon the boy. The youth shook his right arm—a revolver slipped from his big coat-sleeve and was caught in his hand with the skill of a juggler. Then, as he raised the weapon on a line with the Mexi- can’s breast, he said: ‘*Try it, if you dare,” The Pelt made no reply, but turned and left the room, vanquished for the time, but no doubt inwardly swearing vengeance against the preacher and the tenderfoot youth. Asthe Mexican went out a 1ew-comer entered the hotel and asked: ‘** Luke, what’s the matter with Cale Bunce? He’s leaning against the house out here in great agony—acts as if he’d the lock-jaw,” ‘He gits his jaw smacked—dot preacher-mans he lets ’imself loose and flings his fists pout like tamnition and he knock der poys golly vestward. Mister Major Bell, dot mans there pees der preacher, Paul Postle.” ‘Mr. Postle,” said Major Bell, for he the new- comer was, extending his hand, ‘‘I am glad to make your acquaintance, and welcome you to Last Lick.” ‘Thank you, major,” said Postle, looking straight into Bell’s eyes with a searching look that almost made the major wince, ‘I hope I shall prove myself worthy of your confidence.” Major Bell was a man of forty-five years, with a fine physique, a full beard, a dark, brown eye, and withal a man of pleasant address and pre- possessing appearance, “Major,” said Grizzly Dave, mopping the blood from his face, ‘‘ I’m acquainted with ther ’Postle Paul, too—we met a while ago; he shook hands with me, but 111 be well in a day or two, if ghngrene don’t set in.” ‘From looks of things there’s been a cyclone ’round here,” observed the major. ‘*' Yaw, dot preacher mans is ther critter—he do oop der cyclone pizness gallantly, but, hullo! what dot outfeet what coom there; hey? The ‘‘ outfit” referred to was two horsemen that bad drawn rein and dismounted in front of the Pick-and-Shovel. One of them was a tall man dressed in the suit of a Westerner, and well armed, The other was a little, nervous sort of a man with a decidedly foreign appearance and dress. The latter entered the hotel to inquire about lodging, and as soon as he spoke Luke Freiner discovered that he wasa Frenchman. He gave his name as Jules Laclede, and his profession as that of an artist. He said he was making a tour of the great West on horseback. sketching “‘ ze grand mountain scenery,” and called attention to his two ‘pack-horses that were well loaded with his business outfit. e was an eccentric, fussy little chap of perhaps thirty years of age, = > a; / "es »* nlm FZ ay : yi" as MN a oe oe oh ‘ ’ +, » - . \ | 4 «mA t >. Woe oy +a - , 7 4 et speaking English imperfectly; but he had not been in the hotel lomg before those present had made up their mints that there was a method in his eccentricities, CHAPTER ITI, STARTLING TRAGEDY. ON the morning following the arrival of Jules Laclede at Last Lick, the miners on their way to work stopped in front of the ‘* Pick-and-Shov- el” and looked with admiration upon a splendid crayon picture of Major Robert Bell that hung against the outside of the building. The picture had been drawn by Laclede with chalk upon a heavy black canvas. It had been hastily yet fairly executed and was given as a sample of the artist’s skill which received no little commenda- tion. Under the picture was written in plain characters that all could read, the following: ** Norice,—To-night I will give at the Pick-and- Shovel an exhibition of my skillin sketching moun- tain scenery and comic cartoons, etc., etc. Every- body invited. Admission free, *“JuLtes LAcLepr, Artist.” And everybody that read the notice resolved to attend. ven the gamblers and old bummers resolved to go in force and give one evening toa change of life in camp. Freiner’s hotel was rather a commodious house, It was divided into three apartments—a bar, dining-room and kitchen. Each one was separ- ated from the other by a curtain, so that by pining these partitions aside the building could thrown into one room. , And this old Luke did as evening approached, and seats improvised of kegs, chairs, boxed and planks were arranged in the room, The artist arranged his canvas at one end of the room. It was a heavy slate-colored canvas stretched upon an adjustable frame four by six feet in size, By dark the whole population of Last Lick except the few women in the camp, had gathered in the Pick-and-Shovel. Conspicuous in the crowd was the tall form of Paul Postle who had gained no little notoriety in camp by the punishment of Grizzly Dave and his two friends the day before. Sonora, Steve was also there, and his little snakish eyes search- ed the face of every individual there as if look- ing for some certain one. And he was; but that one, Albert Joslin, the sleepy-looking tenderfoot, was not there. He had left the camp that morn- ing for parts unknown, n due course of time Jules Laclede appeared before the audience, bowed low with the charac- teristic politeness of a Frenchman, then turning, crayon in hand, began his work. With the ra- pidity of lightning his hand flashed over the canvas black-board, Lines and curves, light and heavy, grew rapidly into a cobweb confusion; but out of this tangled mesh there soon appeared a splendid view of the mountain scenery Task westward from camp. It required no stretch of imagination to recognize it and the audience ap- plauded the artist’s first scene long and loud, Laclede acknowledged the compliment with a smile and a polite bow; then he picked up an eraser and with a few strokes swept the picture f.om the canvas and, with a wave of his hand © to the audience, again went to work. Swiftly and deftly his hand flew np and down and over the canvas. The figure of a man of Fallstaffian proportions, and one talland angular grew into form with marvelous rapidity. The fat man was represented as standing at a bar holding in his hand a mug of foaming beer, while on the other side stood the lean man read- ing a book, The features of the two men were the very last to redeive the attention of the artist, and when the finishing touches had been put upon the faces, the audience broke into an uproarious applause, for, in the fat man al} recognized the rotund face of Luke Freiner, and, in the other, the ungainly form and homely face of Rev. Paul Postile. The two subjects of the cartoon enjoyed the fun with the audience, and it was several min- utes before quiet could be restored. Then the artist swept the figures off the board and began work on other subjects. Two men an Irishman and a Chinaman, were represented ata game of cards, the game being shown at different stages by erasures and additions, ending with the Chinaman in the ect of stealing a ca from the deck while Pat was in the act of takin a drink of whisky. This cartoon was follow by a view of mountain scenery, a negro on a bucking broncho, and a love scene between a young squaw and anold white hunter—each and all of which brought down the house. Brushing off the board the artist glanced over the audience and then with a bow and wave or — comicbooks. . — on » —————— - _ . ’ >) oe , x ’ » J aa: , ¥ ‘oe a |). ee i? bh *) wet ~ yk owl ke ay <@ , r os “i na 45,9 2 ny. } aa e eae A iv" ri ‘i. . 4 : ‘4 ead hae ‘ J . . he “= r ed : ‘ : . oy. i : ~ ior , °F) oly ‘ ig Leet d : ‘i \ : i) io i : j « : . i A — s : — ih