Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 516 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

**Do ye plays keerds?” **T play some games.” ** S’pose I go down an’ get a pack o’ keerds?” “All right,” Tim answered. “Pll do it. Do ye know, ef thar’s a thing in the wide world which I hate, ’tis ter set ’round an’ do nothin’,” ‘*Same hyar,” replied Tim, resolved to hu- mor him. Briggs went down to the bar-room. When he returned he brought not only a pack of cards, but a huge bottle of whisky. ‘* Suthin’ ter wet my throat,” he said, shaking the bottle. And he “ wet his throat,” accordingly. Tim Thistle saw some hope in this, There was enough liquor in the bottle to twice intoxi- cate Brigys, and if he only went at it zealously, he might be overcome by the stuff—if Higgins only remained away long enough. The possi- bility of escape excited the Tartar somewhat, and his hands were not exactly steady as he dealt the cards. Briggs had lighted & lamp, as it was grow- ing dark in the room, and the glow showed a reckless expression on his face. He seemed in just the right mood to drink to excess. Playing began. At Tim’s request the game was casino. He never played before with so little interest in the game, but that was not against him. He was determined that his com- anion should win anyway, to place him in good umor. So Briggs played and won, and as he played he also paid frequent homage to the big bottle. At short intervals he placed the bottle to bis mouth, and the stuff gurgled down his throat. A perceptible vacancy was soon made in the bottle, but Briggs carried his load well. After a short time, however, he offered Tim a drink. The latter did not accept, but did take the offer as a proof that Briggs was growing better natured. The Tartar determined to sound him, ** Will the cap’n be back ter-night?” ‘Don’t know. I build for seven.” “T hate ter stay here.” *Sodofl. Ah! I take in big casino.” **T don’t think he ought ter have shut me up.” ‘* He prob’ly consulted his taste, not yourn.” “Yes. You’ve won another game, You're a good player, Mr. Briggs.” ‘*Yes; an’ I kin drink pooty from a bottle, ” He proved it by drinking. ** Suppose you an’ me go out fur a walk, iggs.’ ‘What fur?” ‘‘ Why, ter paint de town red.” ‘‘ What’s the good? See that bottle? Thar’s ison enough in thar ter make me so drunk that ar think I own all o’ Fifth avenue, an’ the gran’ stand at the Polo Grounds.” ‘‘Dat’s true, Briggs, but the objection ter stayin’ here is that it’s terrible dull settin’ round an’ doin’ nothin’.” It was a sly insinuation, based on Briggs’s own previous statements, and it had effect at once. ‘By George! you're right, boy.” “Then why not go out?” 243, “Can't do it. I’m yer keeper, an’ Higgins would rave like a Texas steer on a rampage, ef I disobeyed his orders.” ‘* But he needn’t know it. Wekin go out fur a walk, see de sights a bit, an’ then come back.” ‘* Wait a bit!” said Briggs, He laid down his cards, took another long drink, and then planted his elbows on the table and stared rey at Tim. The latter per- ceived, for the first_time, that the man's eyes had grown glossy. He could stand a good deal of liquor, but he had Paine the safety point, and was no longer himself. ar “Tet me look at ye,” he said, in a thick voice. ‘“-You hev made a proposal. It Suits my fancy, but it goes ag’in’ what 1s plainly my duty. I want ter look in yer eyes, an’ see ef you’re on the squar’. Don’t want ter ’scort ye out ef you’re goin’ ter run first chance ye git—could never ketch ye in the world, I know; my legs wouldn’t take up right. Fact 1s, though m head an’ body are sober ez & man On the gal- lers, my legs is drunk, That’s whar the mischief comesin. I can’t drink liquid p’ison *thout my legs git drunk. Consarned pair ©’ legs, Pve got; reg’lar ole tipplers. Reckon they'll hev the jamjims someday. But J’m sober!” Briggs stretched a point in saying 80; he was retty well worsted 'by the liquid enemy, though bis legs may have had. the worst of it. e ‘‘T was goin’ ter look at ye,” he pursued. ‘ O’ course I'll do that with my head. My legs are ord’narily good lookers, but they’re drunk now, ————$————————— SSS Sy sss Ss sss sls Tartar lim. Sad affair! It grieves me when my legs be. > Why can’t they be tem- my legs are in liquor. p’rate, like me?” ‘* A little exercise out of doors will fix dem all right,” Tim suggested. ‘* Boy, I dunno; I s’picious 0’ you, My legs have looked at you, an’ they say thar is evil in ye. We won't go out.” ‘But you promised ter go.” ‘My legs did; I didn’t.” ** Will ye back out so?” ‘*T won’t, but my legs will, an’ they carry the day. That’s all they’re capable o’ carryin’, jest now.” ‘*Come, now, let’s go out fur a few minutes,” said Tim, in his most persuasive manner, though convinced that it was a hopeless appeal. ‘My legs may go out,” quoth Briggs, ‘but I shall stay right byar. Se will you, my game- cock o’ the ragin’ Hudson. You was put hyar ter stay, an’ you will stay. Settle down, var- mint, an’ don’t look at me so wild-like. You can’t git away: ef you try, my legs will ketch you, ef they chase ye ter High Bridge. While the race is on, Pllstay hyar. Goout? No; ef ye try it, Pl] hammer ye flat!” All of the fellow’s good-humor had gone, and he glared at the boy ina more ugly way. But Tim Thistle took it coolly. He had made up his mind that it would come to that, and, abandon- ng his first plan, had formed another. f Briggs was as drunk as he seemed, the new way might work; anyhow, the Tartar intended to try it. The table was between them, and Tim placed his hands against it, braced himself, and then, exerting all his strength, pushed it against his captor without warning. Under the circum- stances this novel mode of attack could not but succeed, and Briggs, clutching vainly at the air, went over in a heap, crushing his chair. Thus far all was well—what of the next move? Tim Thistle’s mind was on the coveted key, and he sprung forward to get it from Abe's pocket; but the latter, knocking the table away, remained on his back, and sent out his feet and hands in a series of hap-hazard blows. ‘Keep off,” be snarled, thickly, ‘'My legs are drunk, but I’m sober. You can’t hev it, you *tarnal little varmint.” But Tim was not to be thwarted thus. He saw that Briggs was practically helpless, and he shot under his arm and secured the key with a few quick movements, despite the man’s twisting and squirming. Yes; the coveted article was in his hand at last, but just as he made sure of it, a thunderous rap sounded at the door, and a hoarse voice cried: ‘What's goin on in there? Let mein, or Pll smash the door!” Tip Higgins had returned. CHAPTER VII, TIM ‘‘ HAS IT OUT WITH HIGGINS!” Tia THISTLE paused in dismay. There was no mistaking that voice; Higgins was home again, and nothing could have been more un- timely for the boy than his arrival. If five minutes more had been vouchsafed him, he would have been safely out of the desperado’s lair, As it was, he was in a dangerous situation again, W hat was to be done? Tim tried desperately to think of a means of re- lief, and while he did so Higgins Se Sn at the door and demanded entrance, while Briggs made energetic efforts to stand. Several times he got upon his hands and knees, but the latter seemed to have lost all power, and he would roll over again. Briggs was very drunk. ‘*Ob! you dastard!—you malignant snake!” he cried, ‘‘ef I git hold on ye, Pil behead yer right away. Wait till my legs git sober, an’ [ll trample ye inter the dust, an’ knock my boot- heels off on yer proboscis. Whoop! I’m sober, but I don’t keer who knows that my legs is runk!” ; ‘¢‘ Let me in!” roared Higgins. ‘‘ Why don’t ye come in, you fool?” retorted Briggs. ‘© TI] break down the door!” ‘“ Break it down, an’ be hanged!” ‘Abe Briggs, have you desarted me, ye skunk?” * “Skunk, yerself! When you come in, my legs will lick ye.” Fast then the speaker rolled over again, and he calmly stretched out on the floor, closed his eyes and muttered: ; ‘Landlord, I'll keep this ’ere bed all night!’ And then Briggs was to be counted out, for he went to sleep as serenely as though nothing was out of order around the place, heedless of Tip’s . eee ELLE _- —_— -—--- ao ee eee nn eee nn er hammering and his anger. By that time Tim had formed a plan. It seemed clear that he had got to fight, and though it seemed equally clear that he would stand no chance against Higgins, he intended to try bis luck, and do all that stur- dy bravery would allow. He had secured a leg of the broken chair, and, as this was unusually large, it made quite a respectable weapon. He balanced it im his hand, and looked coolly at the door. ‘*Reckon [ve got ter have it out wid him,” he obser ved, Just then the door rattled more than ever, Higgins had given up all thought of peaceable entrance, and was determined to break in, He flung his heavy form against the door time and again, and it creaked dismally on its hinges. It must soon go down, and Tim stood ready with his club. Crack! The obstruction gave way; the door shot into the room, and that too so suddenly that Higgins followed it helplessly.” When the door fell he fell too, and lay sprawling on top of it. The club did not seem to be needed; Tim This- tle made a dash to pass the ruffian, He was baffled. One of Tip’s big hands shot out, closing around the boy’s ankle, and it seem- ed as though the latter must come to a stop. He did not think so, As Higgins gained his hands and knees Tim gave him a swing, jerk and push, and the fellow went clattering down the stairs, Unfortunately, he clung to Tim, and the latter accompanied him in the descent, Down they went, bouncing from stair to stair, and making an astonishing amount of noise. Tim expected to receive serious injury—it was bad enough to fall down-stairs at any time, but to be accompanied by a big fellow like Hig- gins, whose whole weight might at any time strike upon and crush him, rendered Tim’s case serious. Nevertheless, he escaped the latter danger, and did not suffer much from contact with the stairs; he reached the foot in remarkably good condition, and felt none the worse for it. He was quickly on his feet, and making for the door which led to the bar-room. Higgins’s hand again grasped him, ** No, you don’t!” cried the desperado, ‘* Leave me go!” retorted Tim, struggling des- perately. ‘* Not by a blamed sight!” Tim lunged forward against the door; it flew te and he fell into the saloon, breaking Tip’s old, ‘** You can’t get out!” shouted the latter. But the Tartar sped across the floor, toward the outer door, hoping to find it unlocked, Heavy steps crashed behind him, Higgins was in pursuit. Unfortunately, ‘Tim collided with a table, and the delay was sufficient for Higgins’s purpose. He again seized the boy. The latter’s hindi was stirred to a decisive point by this time—the point of escape was so near that its inducements were more pert than ever. He must escape. Owing to the utter darkness in the saloon he could see nothing, but he turned upon Higgins like an animal at bay. He had been considered a very good wrestler, and with surprising agility he caught hold of Tip and twisted his leg around those of the desperado. Higgins never knew just what “lock” caught him, but the result was very perceptible. His burly form suddenly swayed sideways; his feet flew from under him; and down he went with a crash which made the bottles and glasses dance behind the bar. Tim Thistle did not go down. On the con- trary, he was again at liberty, and he made a rush for the door. His hand fell upon the knob. Was the door locked? This was an important question to him. He tested the matter. The door was locked! A cloud fell upon his spirits, but, a moment later, his hand touched a Ee ioe tac near the knob, It was the key; it had been left in the lock. Higgins was growling and sending out threats close behind him, but his time had come and gone. Tim gave the key a turn, torn open the door and rushed out. Once more he was under the open sky, in the glare of street lights, aud among honest pedestrians. He drew a deep, grateful breath, and his fears vanished. Nevertheless, he did not tarry there. It was aera that Higgins would follow and claim im as a rebellious son, or resort to some other trick to get him back, so the Tartar proceeded to leave that locality without delay. If his enemy pursued he saw nothing of him, and he improved his chances so well that he soon stood upon Broadway. The great street