Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 486 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

in it, an’ both were werry la-lah—that is to say, werry upper notch, jedgin’ by looks. ow, Leonora,’ ther man said, ‘ this thing has gone farenough. JI want your answer.’ He spoke real mad like. “* Luther,’ answered the gal, ‘my answer is the same as before—no ! Imay as well be plain | with you. Iam engaged to Bartley Bryant. He will take me, and be a protector of my poor dead husband’s child, and I am content,’ m+ Yor content, aire ye? Luther growled. ‘Let me tell ye that your dream is a mockery, then. Noone knows of this drive to-day. I am going to kill you, and cheat my rival of his prey. Your child shall follow you, Leonora.’ *She put up her hands then, but he did not hesitate. His knife flashed thr ough the air, and Jweonora died immegetly. She war pitched out o’ the carriage, an’ you—you, Luther, driv’ fast away!” The face of Ebenezer like in its composure. ‘*Go on,” he said, with a yawn. “T found out who ye war, rec konin’ mebbe I could salt some hush- ce ge out 0” you. Yewar poor, but were likely to inherit a good boodle in due time. I wrote ye what I had seen, but didn’t mention givin’ ye away. I war content ter wait. The next timel met you war in St. Louis. You war then on the prisoner’s dock fer petty theft—an’ ye war all broke up, eh’ ? Selden nodded. ‘““You have a keen memory,” he admitted, grim! aa Oh, you bet I hev! My wad war numer- ous then, so I got ye off at light bail, an’ we slid together. ou Race se me, tho’ —an’ I got married. I would ’a’ had a good future, meb- be, only, like the snake ye aire, you crept in, an’ furst ‘knew, I war minus a wife. it warn’t long. I trailed ye, an’ once more found yer nand dipped in blood, Ye had killed her /” An expression of pain passed over Selden’s face. Bullwhack paid no attention to it. ** An’ still I war content,” he went on—‘‘ all I wanted war ter see ye git rich. . I might relate avollum o’ other criminal rackets ye had, but I’ll tech only on ther main ones, ter save time. I hunted ye up, an’ fer a time we war friends. Ye unfolded ter me a secret. Yer rich uncle war about ter step out, an’ ef ye were married an’ settled down, an’ hed children—at least two —he pro d ter make ye his heir. But nary a chick ner a child did ye hev, an’ in yer di- lemma ye turned to me, I loaned ye mine, you promisin’ ter fetch ’em up ter votin’ age in furst-class shape.” ‘‘ Haven’t I done it?” Eben Selden hissed, sav- miss reck’ I haven’t seen the boy, but ther gal icles like she might hev jest popped out o’ a dress- maker’s shop. But, let me gd on. When yer uncle amble ‘off ye found, ter yer sorrer, thet the thing weren’t goin’ ter sagaciate, He hed left his cool half-a-milyun ter the kids, but it weren’t to tech ’em, till the youngest war plum squar’ 0’ age. Selden ete a long breath. “The only thing fer you todo were ter hang on ter "em, an’ git hold of the boodle, when they were of age.” “Yes, an’ Pll have it!” Selden gritted, fiercely, “Tye bided my time, and shall have my re- ward. bbe is fixed in readiness, and the minute the girlis of age and signs the paper, I am willing you should have your children back.” ** Oh, how clever! Wouldn't thet be a reg’lar blood-poodin’? When’s the girl of age?” ** Soon.” “T ain't fergitful o’ thet. Yet it aire sum time, too, She lacks a few year yet, Eben.” “That matters not. She is misinformed as toherage. Ina couple of lays she will be able to swear she is twenty-one.” ‘** Ho! ho! aes § yer racket, eh? Waal, I per- sume I might e it, eh? But I ain’t done wi’ my story, yet, ban The daughter of Leonora still lives, and knows of your crime, an’ has sworn to wreak vengeance on you,” ‘* Bah! am Ia baby to fear a weak woman?” ‘“Maybe not. But, Leonora’s ain is nota weak woman. Cast upon the world, her life hes been a rough one, an’ she has lost the quips an’ quirleques of feminine wimmen. She seeks ven- eance.” ‘* Let: her seek!” ‘* But she aire in this very camp yt Eben Selden started, “6 You lie!” he gritted. «Tf I do, I don’t know anything about it!” the giant declared. ‘She is here, but don’t know Selden remained stone- ee ——_— -- — Sealskin Sam, the Sparkler. cc Ah 1") ‘* A relief, eh? Waal, I should faint! knew ye war heer, I opine thar would be blood spilt, somewhat, T ken easily put her on yer track, ef ye want me to.” ‘You needn’t mind!” Selden returned. ‘“ Are you done?” ‘* Not quite. Dve another thing or two to say. * Be brief then.” ‘IT will, What man, of all your enemies, do you fear most?” ** None of them!” ** You don’t, eh?” “T do not fear God, man or devil!” ~ del in Bartley Bryant war to confront you? How d’ye think ye would feel?” ‘* I do not think L should quail.” ‘* Waal, you’re queer. I should almost shiver my socks off, ef I war you!” Selden 1: ughed in his old cracked voice, His composure, evidently, was not so great as he as: sumed, ‘*Go on!” was his mechanical answer, ‘* Talk me to death if you like.” “Dll try my best Eben. I hev a few remarks ter make consarnin’ Bartley Bryant and ther brother of one Sadie Southwell!” —-_ —= CHAPTER XII. BULLWUACK’S PRICE, THE face of Eben Selden suddenly ‘changed color, as the giant uttered the last name, “What!” he gasped. ‘What do you know about—” ‘* All!” Bullwhack assured, with one of his peculiar grins—‘‘all, dear Ebenezer. Shall I explain? I might as well, as 1 see that your memory is very defective, ‘*T> begin with: There was a pleasant leetile home, once upon a time, down among ther pine- clad hills of Nebr aska, where dwe it a trio of persons named Southwell. The only living parent was a decrepit old man 0’ seventy years; then thar war a son an’ daughter. The son w ar a hunter, miner, and sO forth, an’ kept the family supplied wi’ ther necessar ies 0’ life; the gal, young, beautiful an’ charmin’, was the housekeeper. D’ye reckernize the tint o’ my Michael- Angelo-like picter, Eben? Well, a great, an’ Pom pens, an’ learned man, gained aceess to thet home, an’ courted the cirl—daz- zled her wi’ his pictur es o’ aristocratic life. A marriage war secretly performed. It war in- tended to be a mock marriage!” ‘6 Intended |” Eben Selden gasped in uttering the word, “Yas, intended, so fur as you aire concerned, Ebenezer, an’ ye know it/ Scheming old vil- lain that you are, you never intended. to make the innocent. tru:tin’ girl your wife!” ‘¢ Nor did I” was the fierce answer. ‘¢ Tl] beg ter tip ye a cross-ey ed smile on that. Ye did marry her, an’ she an’ her child aire yours, an’ come in fer yours when you turn up er toes!” ‘* Tt’s false as hell itself!” - ‘‘Kain’t say *bout that, fer I’ve never bin there, but ye kin bet on my bein’ right, I war watchin’ ive them days, an’ I war yer evil genius then. When ye hired yer rascally nephew, Larry rae to furnish a snide instead of a gini- wise pr eacher, Larry, dear boy, didn’t fill the ill! “What?” ‘¢ No, sir-ee! A peculiar sort o’ inderwidual, named Bollivar Bullwhack, got Larry so b’ilin drunk he couldn't hev told a minister frum a stone quarry, an’ a veal minister war sent an’ did the job!” Selden’s eyes fairly blazed. “You accursed ruffian—yow did this?” he hissed, venomously, “Waal, I should cough upa cat!” Bullwhack assured—‘‘ but I let the sarcus go on. My bub- ble warn’t ready ter burst, jest then. Yer chil- dren war at college—thet is, mine were—an’ ye war livin’ in clover, you hardened old sivner! “Waal, things went on until forthcoming events began to cast their shadows—then ye skipped, Ebenezer, like a guilty son-of-a-gun, leavin’ behind ye a letter tellin’ her ye war tired o’ her—her, the sweetest angel in Nebraska—an’ thet ther marriage wer’ only a mockery!” For the first time during his narration, the face of the giant became stern, and he glared at Selden in a way that made the detestable old villain feel very uncomfortable. The mine- gynors Rosie florid face now showed a shade arta D Well. .” Bullwhack went on, ‘“ poor Saflie be- came/ crazed, partly, and fled’ from her home. Her child was born, and later she was found 11 — <a. - ee ee -- oe — ee | perishing upon the prairie. By whom, do you: she suppose?” ‘** How do I know?” ‘* By Bartley Bryant, at that time a ranch- owner in this Territory. She was taken to his: home, but was stolen away by Larry Lee, and has not been heard from since. I doubt if ‘Br y- ant told her her child lived, for he gave it to a erson who had once known the Southw ells, and rom whom he learned of yer perfidy an’ Sadie’s wrongs!” ‘* Where is the child?” ‘Safe! that’s enuff fer ye to know. But, let me goback: Sadie hed another lover, whom she fersuk fer you. Mebbe you hev heard o’ him?” “No!” ‘Waal, his name war Walter Bent. Arter” Sadie’s disappearance, several o’ those who hed knew her got together—Bent, an’ her brother, among ’em—an’ took a solemn oath never to rest until your death paid their penalty o’ yer treat- ment o’ Sadie!” Ebenezer Selden arose from his chair, and paced the floor, his brows contracted, his eyes wearing & sc ared look, ‘*'Who are they?” he demanded, fiercely turn~ ing toward the giant. ‘Waal, Eben, J aire one!” “You! Bah!” ‘¢ 7—me, Bollivar Bullwhack, is one.” ** Who else?” “Well, [ dunno whether I better let on ter you or not. Guess I will, however. Walter Bent is number two.” Yea! ‘* Gerald Southwell is three.” 4é Y es. BP) ‘* Salem Sphinx is four,” The mine-owner started. ‘* Salem Sphinx, the gambler?” he ejaculated. Why, I have known him for months!” ‘« Mebbe. but, very likely, to your sorrow.. He and Leonora’s gal are after you.” “Oh! Well, goon! Who else?” Ther’ may be others, but I presume, if so,, they aire in the employ of Walter Bent! By” the way, however, your most vehement enemy aire here—has been heer fer some time!” Eben Selden looked at the giant searchingly, He then arose, went to a safe in one corner of aie room, and presently returned with a roll of ills, ‘* Who?” he tersely demanded, throwing down a fifty-dollar note before the giant, on the table, ‘Bartley Bryant!” Bullwhack answered.,. Y You,*probably, know him as Maurice Clark- son?’ The mine-owner uttered an oath, ‘Great God! Colonel Clarkson—impossible!™” ‘“Nary a time, dear Eben! I also seed a *spectable-lookin’ chap at the Cremonia, ter- night, from St, Louis. I sized him up, an? ra oned he wanted a feller 0° about your size, f counterfeitin’ or somethin’ 0’ the sort, dowm thar. So ye see thet yer bale o’ hay aire gittin” reduced purty nigh ter the last spear.” ‘*So it would seem!” Selden replied, not frightened, though!” “T shed be, ef I war ye. Ef my idears ain’t. lost their origin, most all yer enemies aire in this hyer very camp 0 Hunki-Dori. Clarkson an’ Bent both ar’ on hand.” ‘“ Yes; Bent is here, and im limbo. He is: Sealskin Sam!” ‘**Correct, But he ain’t in limbo,” ‘‘He is, I'saw him locked up just before you, honored me with this visit. If he gets, out, alive, it will be queer.” ‘Ill be a durned sight queerer ef he don’t: cit free, He’s as slippery as an eel. Who else hev ye tumbled to?” oO one.’ ‘hort ch Waal, Leonora’s gal aire heer. Bullwhack aire heer, Sealskin aire heer, an’ fer what I kno’, a couple c’ bis confederates. Gerald Southwell, ef not heer, will be, soon, an’ yer. prospects aire purty thin. Not needfully, tho’. Of all yer enemies, Luther Lee, I am the only one that knows youare not really Ebenezer Selden.” ** Are you sure?” ‘Sure as that I live this minnit. The man- hunters w’ot aire after you aire not aware o? the fact thet ye live heer. This place, I reckon, war selected fer ’em to meet, an’ compare: notes.” The man of many crimes did not appear to re- gar d this assertion as reasonable, ‘‘They evidently believe I am in this part of the country, or else they would not hover so close» together.” “Possibly ye are right. ‘ ~ ‘“T am Ef they don’t know er’ heer, et won’t take me long ter tell em,” ‘The fact aire, it’s shel}, ullwhack suggested,