Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 527 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

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N $ \ ’ ‘ Dy e =" . ’ "one a ‘> ’ 4 . 4 ; ; , - alt 7 >, , | oo ‘> write ee . —* : 4 ev, - : ° *s ; » ‘ a . ; , : ~ . . ‘The Jolly Pards to the Rescue. ‘‘Tll never forget you, fellows!” he said, ‘Hurry up, and get everything ready for an instant start, while I fix things with the boys about my jumping my office.” Tom and Dick rushed off to get horses and provisions, blankets and bullets, in readiness, Harry ran toward the center of the camp, before the Terpsichorean Hall, shouting at the top ot his lungs: ‘Ob, yes! ob, yes! oh, yes!” The effect of this summons was such as is seen only in a Western mining-camp. The boys came ‘“‘tumbling up” from every direction, on the keen jump. In an almost incredibly short period, the young oy ays marshal was haranguing a crowd of eager listeners. ** Boys, I can’t tell you the reason for my ac- tion, but it is absolutely necessary for me to leave here as soon as I can get into the saddle, I know that my duty as deputy marshal] calls me to stick by my post in the absence of Jim Gladden, and that r haven’t been so faithful in the past as to make this desertion excusable on that score. But there are situations before which every consideration must yield, and the present is one of them. ‘What I have called you together for, is to have you elect a man in my place; and when Jim gets back, he can expel me from the force and make his own selection of my successor. I ore the next man will serve him and the Flat better.” As briefly as he spoke, it was plain that the young deputy did not look forward with indif- ference to the disgrace of being degraded from his office. But the boys declared that no such penalty should fall upon him. They knew the circum- stances of his dereliction of duty in the past, and heartily sympathized with him. Nowhere in the world are the technicalities of the law so little regarded as among these headleng moun- tain-men. They are so used to desperate reme- dies for desperate cases, that they do not appre- ciate the benefits of a more orderly, if slower, mode of procedure. A man was raised from the crowd to Harry’s lace; and with searcely more than a wave of he hand in acknowledgment, he ran off to Abraham’s, There everything was as it had been ever since Miriam’s loss, Rebecca seemed to hang between life and death, and Abraham sat like a man whose brain was paralyzed. ‘* Cheer up, dear friends!” cried Harry, burst- ing in upon them. ‘‘ We are going for Mir- iam!” Abraham looked up with a start, but after a momentary stare at the bearer of glad tidings, he sunk back to his old position of despair, shak- ing his head gloomily. becca, who had been lying with her eyes closed, opened them, and turned them upon the speaker. From their cavernous depths, they looked like coals of fire set in the eye-sockets of a skull, ‘‘Haf you come to kill her, by raising false hopes, to be followed only by disappointment?” asked Abraham, glancing sadly at his wife. ‘‘She is dying fast enough alreaty !” ‘‘ But the Three Jolly Pards are sworn—” ‘*To conquer her will?” interposed the old man, meaning Miriam’s. | ‘‘No! To expose the infamous scoundrels with whom her father is leagued.” ! ‘Dot makes not?ing. Heis her father. The worse you make him out, the more she will feel bound to stand by him. I know her!” ‘* But she is to be the victim of a dastardly lot. If her father is not a party to it—which [ elieve he is—he will at least be unable to pro- tect her,” ** Make her believe dot!” It was plain that Abraham would not be con- vinced. , As this could wait, while the state of mind of ‘ Rebecca was of much greater importance, Har- ry hastened to her side. ‘**Do not despair,” he said, taking her hand, affectionately. ‘*I promise you that I will bring dear Miriam back, I know whatI am talking about, ‘* Meanwhile, you must not lie here like this. It will pain her to see you looking so ill, She will feel that she is to blame, and will never for- give herself. If you love her, you will get up and get strong again, so that you can welcome her without causing her this bitter self-re- proach,” ‘“‘ Bring her back! bring her back!” sobbed old pia any, clinging to his hand, and weeping pit- eously, - ‘*T will. But you must do as I say.” ae ee ” rr od 2 See Ve ‘**’Yes, yes! Gott vill help me!” Abraham followed our hero down to the door, and there wrung his hand in parting, so deeply moved with gratitude that he could not speak. Then into the saddle and away. As the Three Jolly Pards dashed out of the camp to the rescue, they were sped on their way by ringing cheers. Without knowing just what their mission was, the boys guessed that it had something to do with the Pride of Paddy’s Flat. CHAPTER VIII. ‘FAIR EXCHANGE IS NO ROBBERY.” Now, Jack Downing had a head on his shoul- ders, and one that was something more than a " grab and gabble mill.” e was scarcely out of the presence of the girl who had touched his heart, on his way south from the San Milo Crossing, when he re- flected: ‘* Blessed if I like the run of the cards. Here I’m running away from the prettiest little wo- man I ever set my two peepers on, and leaving her to Ike Salomans, to be steered clear of the conscienceless scoundrels who are pursuing her with the most sinister designs, Was there ever such a flat? ‘‘It isn’t necessary for me to go clean to ’Frisco to blind this trail, and I’m going to jump it instanter, ‘*T havea presentiment that there’s going to be trouble. That little angel will betray her- self. She’s too shamefaced and timid to play the boy. Hang me if I don’t make it a point to be on hand when those devils call Ike for all he’s worth, and to ante enough to give me a show in the game.” Pursuant of this resolve he left the coach at San Milo, On the way thither he bad matured his plans. The ace was an old Mexican Mission, the peaceful life of which had been suddenly burst in upon by an irruption of the outer barbarian. In one quarter the natives huddled in sullen endurance in their adobe huts, picturesque in costume, but of no account in competition with the red-shirted miners who held possession of the slope over against them. When these products of a new civilization made a descent upon the fandangos of the older inhabitants, the ‘‘Greaser” had to play wall- flower, while the German, the Irishman, the Swede, the— But why quibble about their an- cestry? Were they not ‘‘ Americans” all, by birth or naturalization? So, with the lordly ar- rogance of all conquerors, they did what con- querors have done since the world began—took possession of the women of the weaker race, and— Well, they ‘‘ raised Cain,” at their sweet will! The refinements of steps and music were nothing tothem. The man who could yell the loudest and ‘‘hoe it down” with the most mus- cle was “* cock o’ the walk.” Jack Downing went to the slope, which had been burrowed until it looked not unlike a prairie-dog town on a gigantic scale. Lounging up to a shanty, before which a man of not far from his own build was squatted on his haunches, frying salt purk in a long-handled ‘* spider,” Jack hailed the miner with off-hand Western frankness, and sat down and entered into conversation with him. ~ ‘ Of course a ‘‘ pocket-pistol ” came into requi- sition very ‘‘early in the game;” and it was truly refreshing to see how it oiled the wheels of good-fellowship. ‘* Stranger, you must hail from ’Frisco,” re- marked the miner, as he smacked his lips and handed back the flask with evident reluctance. “Kh? Why so?” asked Jack. ‘*They don’t set up no fire-water like that around these diggin’s, Steve Salter hain’t got outside o’ no sich fur a month o’ Sundays,” Jack laughed, acknowledged that he was re- cently from the Golden Gate, and said that he didn’t like to be poisoned. That was the last he had, though, and they would finish it together. Then he observed, with an apparently relish- ful sniff, that the frying pork smelt good. Of course he was invited to partake, which he did, saying that the corn-dodger tasted even better than the pork. He was careful to let his host have the better part of the contents of his flask, while they chatted like old cronies, _ When Steve began to show signs of getting a little mellow, Jack unmasked his battery. ‘By the way, pard,” he began, ** you haven’t got a spare outfit that you’d like to dispose of for the price of a new one?” ‘* Outfit?” repeated Steve. “The whole figure,” said Jack—‘ togs, shovel, pick, pan, and camp kit.” +e 4 j °* % ‘ t+ ~~ , . =“ . y ee ” fuk rs as 20 ried ee fe: Ves : ‘ 4 ¢ s Pd ae I ~ ; " * 4 . is hs . ** Bat why in Cain don’t you buy yer traps at the i, ef you’ve got the rocks to pay fur em ‘** You see, it’s like this,” explained Jack, ‘I want to go oy the country a piece. I don’t want to sport the togs I’ve got on, and I don’t want to look like a tenderfoot. There’s nothing for it, then, but to buy out somebody who hasn’t too strong an affection for old friends.” ‘* Oh—I—see!” replied Mr. Salter, winking hard, and nodding his head wisely. ** Pd take it as a favor—” ‘*Don’t mention it! Ef I sported a Sunday suit, ’d lend it to ye, an’ bless ye up bill an’ down, ef you hinted anythin’ about pay. But to tell ye the honest truth, I hain’t got a rag what ain’t on my back!” ‘Well, what’s the matter with that? Come! we'll go and rig you out brand new, from top to toe, and [ll take your cast-off shell, But you’re not to give it away, ye understand.” Steve stared, and did not receive this propo- sition with any great enthusiasm just at first. Then the Jack of Hearts had the tact to wave the matter for the present, and entered upon a long rigmarole as to what he was proposing to a sg lee plying his gudgeon with the ask, By the time he got to the end of his mony Steve Salter was in such condition that he could have refused his worst enemy nothing. ‘*Pardner,” he almost wept, shaking Jack’s hand, and in fact his whole body, as he clung to him for support, ‘‘ jest you clean me out. Take anythin’ what suits ye; an’ef ye see what ye don’t want, call fur it. Tha’s what kind of a feller Steve Salter is. Ain’t that so, pardner? One o’ the fellers what ye read about?” It is needless to say that Jack Downing read- ily conceded this modest claim. Then he put a very liberal allowance for 4 new outfit in Steve’s hand and sent him to make his purchases. The miner returned presently, laden like a burro, as he declared. And now began the task of getting him out of his old clothes and into the new. Jack was shrewd enough to know that the bargain must be clinched, beyond all backing out, while the owner of the coveted outfit was in his present humor. Later would come regret and ugliness, Just now he was willing to do anything. In- deed, he could not do enough for his new triend. The only thing that impeded the progress of the transfer was that he was exceedingly talkative. He had large ideas, What he was going to do in the 1mmediate future would have staggered a bonanza king—in his senses. But Jack Downing had ‘‘ been thar” hefore. He knew just how to handle a drunken man, s0 as to make the wagging of his tongue only tie accompaniment to more sensible action. Finally, Mr. Steve Salter stood rigged, and smelling like a bale of new goods; and Jack Downing rolled his new possessions up, and put them in a corner to await his claim. ‘‘T’ll be back for these things to-night, pard,” he said. ‘‘ Keep fly, and don’t take me fora burglar.” Then, escaping Mr. Salter’s hospitality with some difficulty, he returned to the coach, which was just ready to resume its course, and rode out of the camp as he had come, At Colter’s Pass he left the stage, bought a horse, and rode back to San Milo, He had to rouse Steve Salter from a heavy sleep, at the risk of waking the whole camp. But finally he effected an entrance, and began the transformation of his identity. Steve satin his new clothes and watched an- | other man get into his old “ togs,” for every ragged and dirty piece of which he now con- ceived a remorseful affection. “Stranger,” he said, with a deep sigh, after a long silence of wistful meditation, ‘‘it do seem as ef I was sellin’ the blood 0’ my mother!” ‘* Nonsense!” laughed Jack. ‘*‘ When I come back this way, 1 mean to banter you to trade back. Ill bet you won’t trade, even to boot!” ‘Boss, ef you want yer money, an’ as much more on top of it, you kin shake them duds quicker’n ef they was full o’ tarant’lar!’ ‘Oh, no!” said Jack, good-naturedly. “* When I’ve got what I want, I always stand my hand.” Tl] play ye fur ’em!” urged Mr. Salter, with a flickering up of hope. But Jack wasn’t to be tempted. ‘It must be nearly morning outside,” he re- marked, snuffing the candle with his fingers, so as to get a better light for the next step in his change of character. It was one that must have cost him a pang, — i +4 ~ se a ty. 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