Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 527 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

- —_ —— = - aah Sin, eo - ~s } ‘ 5? ¥ nerve to put it through when you give me the pints. Call the thing off, an’ we'll drive ahead.” “Then jest you keep yer infernal growlin’ to yerself ” | Cale *‘ took in his horns” very gracefully, con- sidering the sort of a fellow he was. But it was plain that he knew the worth of his confed- erate. > **Hyar we be,” he concluded; “ an’ we'll say no more about it.” And in a tone of blunt good nature he hailed a miner who was sunning himself before a sa- loon. ‘Hallo, pard! This hyar’s Blind Hoss, ain’t it?” ‘““VYe’re mighty right!” was the emphatic re- sponse. ‘*Say, now; when does the coach come this way ” ‘** Tt’s gone through, more’n an hour ago.” ‘*The deuce! I shouldn’t wonder, now, ef thar was some place in this hyar burgh whar a stranger would be like to hang up fur the night.” ** Up to the Do-Drop-In,” ‘Yours truly. Ef you happen along up thar, it’s my treat.” . And our brace of scoundrels jogged on up the street. That the Dew-drop Inn—which, as a matter of course, had been Westernized into Do-Drop- In—was a drinking saloon with accommoda- tions for transient lodgers, goes without saying. Cale and Banty dismounted and lounged into the bar, ordering drinks. ‘‘The hearse has passed hyar an hour gone?” observed Cale. ‘That ain’t no lie, stranger,” replied the bar- keeper. ‘Ef it had dropped anybody, they’d ’a’ put up hyar, I reckon ” ** Ur laid out-doors!” “6 1t—ah—didn’t drop a pilgrim or two?” 4 Na 7 Cale looked blank, and exchanged a glance with Banty. He was at a loss how to proceed. Banty came to the rescue. ** What went through this trip?” he asked. “Waal, thar was Jim Buckson, o’ Fiddler’s Ford, an’ another party with him. They do say as he’s lookin’ fur to place some rocks. He'll leave ’em, ef he drops ’em up to the Ford. That’s my opinion; an’ it don’t cost ye nothin’.” ** Nobody else?” ** Not a smell.” Banty’s eyes contracted slightly, but his face * did not wear the blank stare of helplessness that Cale’s did, ‘“‘T say, pard,” he went on, “‘do you ‘low as that thar stage come straight through from— from Paddy’s Flat?” “Thar ain’t nowhar else fur it to come from,” ‘When might it ’a’ left the Flat?” **'Yistiddy,” ** An’ laid over at Fiddler’s Ford?” ‘**Lastnight. Reckon, now, you was expectin’ some one?” ‘* 'Yaas, an ole side pard.” Cale stared, He was not equal to any such finesse as this. Banty drank his liquor with apparent uncon- cern. ** Mebby you’d like to put up hyar fur a day ur two, an’ wait fur your pard?”’ observed the barkeeper. ‘‘ We've got as good beds as you'll find in this hyar section. An’ as fur forage, we kin stall anythin’ buta Jew. They do gag at the grunter. ‘““When might that thar stage be along ag’in?” “It’s up to-morrer, an’ down ag’in the day after.” ‘‘ Waal, I reckon that thar won’t do. ’Bleeged to xov all the same,” nd he led the way out of the saloon, with ‘the saunter of a man who was not disturbed by trifling disappointments, ae What's that thar about a side pard?” asked Cale, when tbey were outside. “Never show yer hand when the game don’t fur it,” answered Banty, sententiously. ‘Waal, I "low thar’s a misdeal hyar some’rs.” ‘Maybe thar is, an’ maybe thar ain’t,” ‘What do ,you propose to do about it?” ** Find out, **©’ course. But how?’ “By goin’ to Fiddler’s Ford.” ** Do you low as they’ve laid over thar?” ‘I don’t ‘low nothin’ when I don’t know noth- Hy After I find out, I kin tell ye more about “Say, Baaty,”—and Cale manifested an un- usual amount of shrewdness, for him,—‘' do you jest like the look o’ things?” ~ “The when it passed ‘ie. Pe Gx, oP arty tg hha Jolly Pards to the ‘‘ Don’t you?” asked Banty, following out his She of not committing himself unneces- sarily. ‘*No, I don’t!” declared Cale, with a round oath. ** What’s the reason you don’t?” ** Waal, that doggone snoozer is too mighty knowin’ fur my style; an’ that’s a fact.” ‘* You'll Varn to take the fat with the lean, one 0’ these days.” ** Oh, I ain’t kickin’—not yit!” ‘* Jest wait, then, tell you find somethin’ to kick out.” **'You lead the way. I’m a-follerin’.” And with this understanding, they mounted, and set out for Fiddler’s Ford, It was noticeable, however, that Banty urged his horse to a fair speed. Arriving at the crossing, Banty pulled up and glanced up and down the transverss road sharply. ‘What's the row?” asked Cale, . *t Nothin’,” replied Banty, shortly. ‘¢That’s a stage road.” ** Any fool would see that.” And Banty rode on without more ado, now he rode faster than before. Reaching the Ford, he lost no time in seeking to pick up information indirectly, but went at once to the tavern. ‘* Boss,” he said, to the fat and lazy host who was lounging before his door, ‘‘ did the coach 5 Meo ary pilgrims hyar to-day?” . r But “But didn’t it bring anybody from on be- yond?” ‘They went on through,” ‘** Who might they be, now?’ ‘A couple o’ sharps an’ a bit o’ dry-goods,” ‘‘A couple o’ sharps? Was they travelin’ to- gether?” ‘‘ Waal, I reckon not. One on’em sold t’other a hoss. Reckoned he'd stick to the hearse, be- in’s as how the gal was poorly.” ‘““A hoss?’ repeated Banty, in surprise. ** Now, what-fur lookin’ galoot was that thar chap with the gal?” -- aal, I sized him up as an Al Sheeny. Thar wa’n’t nothin’ slow about the gal, nuther. *Low she was his’n. She favored him.” ‘An’ they went on through?” ‘** That’s so, boss,” ‘*What-fur road is that thar what crosses this’n a bit out yan?” “The San Milo? That thar takes the State endways,” “* Stage road?” **’You bet.” ‘‘ Reckon, now, it might make connection with the coach out to-day.” ‘* You may gamble on it.” ** North or south?” ** South,” Banty paid his score, and added a casual re- mark about the weather. The landlord eyed him narrowly. To be put through such a catechism as he had just been subjected to was not an uncommon thing in that country; but such questions were seldoin asked out of illo curiosity. **'You might be a-lookin’ fur some stray ani- miles?” observed the landlord, by way of a feeler. ‘“*Me? Oh, no.” And Banty lounged out. ‘‘T b’lieve ye’re a liar!” muttered the landlord to himself, ‘‘ Waal?” observed Cale, when, they were alone. “Thar ain’t no call fur no chin-music,” an- swered Banty. ‘** He’s give us the nasty shake!” ** He’s tried to!” **Eh! You’re ‘lowin’ to foller bim up?” ‘** Air you takin’ whatever's dealt to ye?” ** Not without kickin’!” Cale swore with savage intensi ‘*'You’re wastin’ yer breath. fur to cool yer porridge.” ‘** What air we to do now?” ‘Make a bee-line fur San Milo,” They did so, to find that no such person as they were in dyes of had occupied the coach here on the day in question. ‘‘ But, gents, thar was a dandy sharp aboard an’ don’t ye furgit it! My eye! but he sperted a sparkler what ’u’d make ye stone blind jest fur to come down on it with yer glass optic.’ Banty started at this second appearance of a flash sport, aud immediately proceeded to get an exact description of him. ‘Do you drop to this gay an’ festive gent?” he asked Cale, when they were again alone, ** No, I don’t.” | ty. Better keep it AY . ae Rescue. | 1 ‘4 - ‘‘ Maybe you didn’t see him git down off the box at the Flat.” ‘‘ How do you know it is that galoot?” - t canght the flash of his sparkler in the sun. ‘* Waal, what has he to do with our man?” ‘““He bought his hoss, and then we see him back in the coach, an’ our man has gone up in the air, or down into the ground.” ‘*Tt’s a blind!” cried Cale, at last seeing dimly through it. ‘**T should say so,” assented Banty. ** Waal, it’s your lead.” ** North!” And away they went again, this time really on Isaac Salomans’s track. At Biles’s Flume they learned nothing of a man and girl, but here they heard of a Mexicam Don and his son—‘‘ a daisy little shrimp fur to look at,” added their informant, ** but a back- ward flat when it came to speakin’ up fur him- self.” Banty ‘‘ dropped ” at once. ‘‘ With two days the start of us!” said Cale, when the whole thing had been made plain to him. But—they came up with the objects of their pursuit at Grub Stakes, The little Don had fallen ill. “We've got him!” muttered Banty, exult- antly. “He'll be hard to find when we git through with him!” replied Cale, with a savage glitter in his eyes. That night they caught sight of Salomans, looking pale and anxious. It was evident too that he was on the alert to find out whether he bad been followed. ‘“We'll lay fur him,” said Banty. ‘‘ When he’s jest whar we want him, we'll drop onto him out. of a clear sky!” Va They immediately left the camp, to lis in wait for their prey. CHAPTER VI. LOST! Tom Murpny and Dick Johnson, whose words and deeds will soon make them better known than could a personal description, had elbowed their way through the crowd on the heels of Isaac Salomans, as he bore his unconscious daughter to the coach, ‘“‘He’s gwine fur to cart her off!” cried Dick, excitedly. ‘““ Anny fool would see that,” assented Tom, ‘* But dah’s Harry tied up by de leg, an’ can’t take his own part.” ‘* Did we tie him up?” It was not that Tom was less concerned than his comrade, but he felt helpless to prevent what he recognized as a calamity. rie “No, but dat don’t let us out,” insisted Dick, ‘‘ What air ye goin’ to do about it?” ‘‘ We-uns ought to do what he’d do ef he was: hyeah,” ‘* What would he do?” He’d hitch on to dat ’ah, somehow, an’ stop : P ‘Faith, you’d betther throy your hand.” ‘‘ What kin we do?” “ Asin’ the lawyers an’ the judge?—not to mintion Jim Gladden. Didn’t he say that the law should be carried out this wanct, if it niver was ag’in?” Dick looked hopeless, sisted, ‘Go an’ tell him,” said Tom, dejectedly. ‘‘Ttll be too late when he gets yen off already. Hi! Dah’s Jim Gladden!” With a bound he tore his way court, “Jim! Jim!” he cried, seizing the hand the marshal, after he had carromed upon aln every one who stood in his path, knockin heedlessly to right and left like so many imax pool-balls, | Jim Gladden, as fine a specimen of sical manhood as one need wish to see, stood looking loomily after the coach that was half hidden y the cloud of dust that rose in its wake. ‘What d’ye want, pickaninny?” he asked, ‘‘ Dey’s carryin’ her off—Missy Miriam!” ‘Don’t I see that?’ asked Gladden, as if re- senting an implication that he was responsible, ‘“But, say, Jim!—you don’t W. She’s: Harry’s gal—his best gal, ye unnerstan’! He sets: a heap by her—he do, so!” __ ‘© So much the worse fur him!” growled Jim, with a frown. But it was plain that he was not free from self-reproach. Still, he felt bound by circum- stances, ,. : Dey’s through the | crowd that had come out before the door of the “Harry ought to know dis hyeah,” he per~ oe na : gare A I > . ————_— eee - . ge a a a, a I a