Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 510 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

— Be en opi, x | > tor ah ® * * “f s Pe ay Me aL ~ ia —- a, é +3 ( v . : : ‘ - 4 f., ra 7 . o ” re fu, 4 a F es $ . > : + id ~ ~ Cool Colorado, ad i. the Half-Bre ; ns “ s — « . ° . * . Z — - . s s oe | ; . .* a « - <. 4 ~—, a, yet es : . . aS Re) Se ie es 4 ; aut. eon ga Bs cael Detectiv PEASE. or oe Pv oo Che stats Zz > a a=. -s. x, J j ¢ : c ‘ vd er v. Sa at « ~~ / oe Pts ” x . 4.20 - , : ‘ e*¥ ‘ s ot *. - ¢ ‘4 . a he YS, ne: aye >A ’ , - a > a > room he proclaimed that he was a ‘ chief,” pre- pared to make it extremely lively for any one te felt inclined to dispute his right to the title. It is of the little mining-camp of Bitteropolis we write. A small settlement on the head-waters of Bit- ter Creek, one of the tmbutaries of the Gunnison River, in great mineral State of Colorado. The speaker was a new-comer; only a week ’ had he tarried in the mining-camp, but during that brief time he had contrived to bring him- self as prominently before the public as any man who had ever ‘‘ struck the town,” Bill Jackson he had proclaimed his name to be, and he had significantly added that he was generally termed Bad Bill Jackson, and he ‘**reckoned” the name fitted him mighty well. The advent of this man into the mining-camp created considerable talk, for with the stranger came a young and pretty girl, one of the robust, blooming beauties, which are only to be en- countered in rural regions—no delicate city flower. ‘* My darter, Polly,” was Bad Bill Jackson’s introductions, ‘‘and she takes arter her dad too,” he continued. ‘‘She kin whip her weight in wild-cats and kin hug a bear to death!” The girl’s name was Pauline, as was soon dis- covered, but as this was too “ high-flown” to suit the burly miner, he never called her any- thing but Polly. The stranger was a fore-harded man, as the wey ing as was proved by the fact that shortly after his arrival he purchased one of the best ‘* claims” in the district. The average miner is usually willing to sell when he can get his price, for he is not content with a fair-paying claim, but is always ready to change, in the hope that in a new field he may be able to strike a bonanza, which will make him rich in a hurry. As we have said, the advent of the blooming, buxom Polly created a deal of excitement, for out of the hundred souls settled in and near Bitter Creek Valley, there were only ten women, mostly old, ugly and married, and of the dam- sels who were still in the market, no one of them could compare with Polly Jackson. Right in the beginning though, old Jackson, as the boys disrespectfully termed him, threw a wet blanket on any sweethearting as far as his daughter was concerned, for when one of the young miners, thinking to get on the right side of the father invited him to take a drink, and remarked that his ‘‘ gal” was the ‘‘ finest look- ing piece of calico in Colorado,” the old man re- sponded that there wasn’t the least doubt about it, but he wanted if understood ‘* right to onc’t,” that he didn’t propose to have any sap-headed fools chinning round his darter, and if an pe dared to even look sideways at the gal, e should consider it his duty to whale him so badly that he wouldn’t want to “take a squint at any other female for a year.” Now, the miner to whom this observation was addressed was a big fellow, and counted to be as good a man as there was in the camp. Both the words and the manner of the new- comer excited his anger. ‘* So, afore a man kin come arter your darter he has got to climb you?” he queried. ‘‘Stranger, you hit the nail on the head the fu. st lick that time!” Jackson remarked. ‘* And I reckon there ain’t a man in the town who kin do the job, big or little, old or young!” the old man continued. There was quite a little crowd in the saloon and the young man felt that be could never hold up his head as a fighting-man again if he let such ‘*‘ dare” pass without taking it up. Take it up he did, but the stranger was a “horse,” to use the westernism, and succeeded in thrashing his antagonist without much trou- ble. And from that time ‘fold man Jackson” had posed as the big chief of the town. Of course the one contest did not settle the matter, for at least a half-a-dozen other men tried *‘ conclusions” with the muscular father, but he was too much for one and all. And on the evening when we introduce the mining-camp of eek a and its people to our readers, old man Jackson having indulged pretty freely in the potent “ fire-water” which was dealt over the bar of the “ Millionaire’s Home,” as the shanty hotel was grandiloquent- ly called, was in the mood for a difficulty ” and publicly expressed his regret that there wasn’t a man in the camp with “sand enough in his craw,” to encounter him. But the miners were really afraid of the boaster. Understand, we speak of the men who were inclined to go upon the war-path, for this 1 isolated camp did not differ much from the usual mining settlement. Out of the seventy odd men who claimed a home in the valley, there were ten or fifteen who prided themselves upon their physical powers and were generally ready to indulge in a fight upon the slightest provocation. But the rest of the male inhabitants of the town were as peaceable and law-abiding as the ordinary countryman, So, when ‘‘ Bad Man Jackson” proclaimed that he was a chief and lamented that there wasn’t a man in the town who had the sand to face him, he referred to these chaps who had set themselves up as fighting-men, for Jackson did not go out of his way to force a quarrei upon any one. ‘‘ All he did was to proclaim that he was the best man in the camp, and if the statement was not objected to. he did not try to force any one to fight with him. There were quite a number of the recognized fighting-men of the camp in the saloon on this particular occasion, and although they were ex- tremely disgusted by the vigorous ** crowing ” of the new-comer, yet none of them felt inclined to take up the dare. The stranger had whipped some of the best men in the camp, and those who had not tested his prowess were rather shy of making the at- tempt. ** Ob, come, this hyer won’t do!” Jackson ejaculated. ‘‘I will have to emigrate and lo- cate in some other camp whar thar are some rustlers, and I kin scare up a leetle amusement once in a while, ‘*An’ I want you galoots to understand that it isa sure enuff thing w’ot I sed bout my dar- ter, too. ‘‘No.two-legged man in this hyer camp kin come a-sparking of my gal until he has downed me in a fair fight, so if any of you boyees hev an idee that you would hke to come sneaking around my ranch, you must wace into me, ’cos I’m the Pride of Bitteropolis, I am!” **Oh, come now, old man, let up!” exclaimed the landlord of the Millionaires’ Home, Ben Perkins by name, a lean and scrawny Yankee from “away down East.” ** Don’t you crow so loud, for the fu’st thin you know some fellow will come along who will warm you like all git out!” The landlord was a pexullegee character, and errarpe spoke his mind pretty freely without eing called to an account by any one for so doing. As the provider of liquid refreshments, he could give or refuse credit, a 05 pad matter to a man who was thirsty for a drink and yet with- out cash in his pocket to pay for it. ‘‘ That is just the kind of amanI am reall hungry to see; so, landlord, for the love of good- ness trot him cut as soon as you kin!” Bad Man Jackson exclaimed. ‘* But I say, whar is the critter hiding? Does he sagaciate in this hyer camp, or will will you hev to send to another town for him?” The speaker threav a fine expression of sar- casm into the remark and some few of the men present felt called upon to snicker. These were fellows whose credit was so bad that they knew they never could hope to re- ceive any favors from Perkins and so felt inde- pendent. The landlord racked his brain for a moment and then a bright idea came tohim. — ‘‘ Wa-al, there’s one man in this deestrict who could fix your flint all right, I calculate, and not have to half try either!” he replied. All the bystanders listened acs cig’ at the same time wondering who it was that the land- lord had in his mind. ‘‘ Whar is the cuss?” old Jackson demanded. ‘“Trot him out as soon as you kin and see him put bis tail between his legs and sneek away as soon as he heers my war-horn a-blowing!” “Oh, yes, the critter I speak of is jest the kind of a man to do that!” Perkins exclaimed, sarcastically. ‘* He’s jest the kind of man to play yaller-dog and run, but I tell you what it is, old man, when you come face to face with this gen’leman, if you don’t want to hunt yer hole then you ain’t got as much sense as I give you credit for.” “Show!” cried the other in contempt, ‘* w’ot’s the name of this man-eater?” ‘** Cool Colorado!” The hum that rose on the air and the expres- sion on the faces of the miners revealed that the man was no stranger to them. ‘“That’s a funny kind of a handle,” old man Jackson por , ‘Wot kind of a varmint is he, anyway?” ‘** A half-breed; the son of a Pawnee woman, as er do say that Wild Bill was his father; I calchlate that it is likely it was so, for the you feller is a whirlwind when he gits started, j as Wild Bill used for to be. ‘‘ He’s called Cool Colorado, ’cos he is cool by nater and is a native of this State.” ‘‘Does he live in this yere camp?” ‘‘ Bout five miles off; he and his pard, an old man named Alex Williams, are working a claim up on, Pine Creek.” ‘* Send for him to onc’t so I kin chaw him up!” the boaster cried. CHAPTER II, PRIDE HAS A FALL, ** OnO, I calculate you wouldn’t talk that way if you once got a look at Cool Colorado so as to be able to see jest what kind of a man he is,” the landlord remarked. ‘*Wal, now, you kin jest bet yer bottom dol-. lar that I am the critter w’ot kin make him take water, an’ I don’t keer two wags of a mule’s tail w’ot kind of a man he is!” old Jackson cried, defiantly. ‘“* W’ot sort of an elephant is he, anyway? Is he bigger’n a house an’ stronger thana buffler bull, ’cos that is the only kind of a galoot able to makea man of my size *‘ crawfish worth a cent!” ‘* Oh, no, he ain’t so very big, but what there is of him is all there,” the landlord answered. ‘‘ And he’s a mighty quiet and peaceable fel- ler, too, not one of the kind to go ranting and roaring ’bout the camp sp’iling for a fight, but when he gits roused and wades in, the man who is in his way has got to keep his eyes peeled!” ‘*That’s so, that’s so!” came in assent from a half-dozen of the bystanders. ‘Oh, for the love of money send for him so as to give me a chance to smash him once or twice!” the Pride of Bitteropolis roared. ‘‘T will go you four dollars to a slap in the face that I will make him hunt his hole five min- utes arter him comes face to face with me, so fast that you won’t be able to see his heels for dust! ‘Oh! 1 am jist longing to get him in my gri so as to gi’n him a hug that will make him tbi a b’ar is squeezing him to death, for that is the kind of man I am, and don’t you forget it!” Hardly had the arrogant words left his lips when the door opened and a young man entered the saloon. A deep hush fell upon the room, and almost every man in it stared open-mouthed at the new- comer. f Old nian Jackson, who was remarkably quick of apprehensicn, noticed the strange look upon the faces of the miners, caused without the least doubt by the unexpected appearance of the oung man, and so he took a good look at bim; but, as far as he could see, there wasn’t any- thing about the stranger to make the others stare at bim. The new-comer was a stoutly-built young man with an appearance which seemed to give great promise of uncommon physical strength. He was dressed in the usual rough garments worn by miners on the border, but of rather better quality than the average man affords, His face though was a strange one, dark in hue, massive, strongly-mark features, his hair, black as the raven’s wing and worn long, brushed behind his ears, after the fashion com- mon to many of the scouts. A close observer, used to the study of mankind, would have decided at the first glance that the new-comer was no common man. But old man Jackson was not a good judge of his fellows, and the thought that the stranger was aman of uncommon strength and ability never occurred to him. In fact, the main impression that he had of the new-comer was that he was a jack-a-dandy, as he would have expressed it, because his hair was carefully arranged; for the bluff and burly boaster had a supreme contempt for a man who paid any particular attention to his personal appearance, om the dark face of the new-comer, as well as from the sudden hush which had come upon the room, Jackson jumped to the conclusion that the new-comer was the map of whom the saloon-keeper had spoken, the half-breed, Cool Colorado. eee Jackson had been drinking pretty freely and was just in the mood for a quarrel, so he- promptly cried, ‘Boyees, I want you all to understand that I am the biggest man in this town, bar none! I am a chief, and I am allers en the war-path, an’ it don’t make a bit of dif- ference to me w’ot the color is of the man I tackle, white or black or red—mebbe I like a eopper-colored cuss for to climb better nor any = otber kind!” choo oe . ‘ . «ay 2 . a a ~~ ~ ~