Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 544 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

VDeadwo od Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidocg. 1s CHAPTER IL A STORY TOLD BY MOONLIGAT. Tr was full two hours after supper, ere Uncle Si Sloat made his appearance upon the piazza of the Sandy Bar Hotel, and joined Val Vidocq. The old gent had divested himself of bis heavy overcoat, and now wore a long, cool duster, lt was a pleasant evening, with plenty of light furnished by the soaring moon, and a bulmy breeze sweeping down from the moun- tain, Both the piazza and hotel were crowded, while the street literally swarmed with people. ‘Great town, this!’ Uncle Si observed, as he tcok a chew of tobacco, “Yes, from all I can sve it is a typical moun- ; i 7? ; , . é¢ Ct tain mining-town,” Vidocq replied. sSome- what like Perkins’s Cross Roads, I presume?” “Lord bless you, no /” and the old man chuck- led at the idea. ‘* Why, all thar is at the Cross Roads is four houses and a blacksmith shop, and one of ther houses isa barn. I b’lieve, tho’, if crops aire good, thet old Squire Perkins tn- tends to build a new pig-pen next year, an’ I heard ’fore I come away that the sewin’ society were talkin’ of buildin’ a chureb, pervidin’ they could get a preacher who would preach right cheap, an’ take his pay out in farm produce an’ fire-wood!” ‘‘ Have you been long in the West?” Vidocq y-ntured tv inquire, ‘Tong? Waal, I guess not—not more’n a month, and it’s mighty glad Ill be to git back hum ag in, fer this is the ’tarnalest outlandish couutry I ever did see, No, I’ve been huntin’ fer suthin’, ’thout a particle of success, and that’s the reason et kind of tickled me when I found out vou were a detective!” ‘Sh! Vidoeq said quickly. ‘There are too many open ears around here, to admit of private conversation. Lets take a stroll where we will not be so likely to be overheard.” ‘* (ood idear! good idear!” the old man said and accordingly they left the piazza and walked leisurely out into the heart of the gulch, When Vidocq reached a point where he thought there was no danger, the two men sat down upon a rock, and while Old Si lit his pipe, the detective likewise ignited a cigar. ‘Now, then, uncle,” he said, *‘ you can tell me with freedom what is your trouble, and then IJ can form an idea whether [ can help you out or not.” ‘‘ Waal, I hope ye kin,” Si replied with a sigh. 4¢Tt ain’t a very pleasant story for me to tell, but I suppose you might as well hear it. “ Waal, it aire just fifty year, now, that I and Betsy, my wife. hev lived thar on the old farm, at the Cross Roads—lived thar in our quiet, bumble, but comfortable way, with never a cloud to mar the happiness of our. lives until eight year ago, ‘Just about twenty-four year ago, our first and only child war born, as we thought to bless and comfort us in our declining years. ‘‘She was dearer than life itself, to us, and as she grew up toward womanhood, sho was voted the prettiest girl in our section of the State, and greatly sought after, Many a honest coun- try lad would have laid his life at her feet, liter- ally, fur ber sake, byt she had different nections, Beauty, sir, is a woman’s great curse!” ‘Here Uncle Si paused to wipe a tear from his eye. fe I don’t know but you are right,” Vidocq said thoughtfully. ‘‘ Beauty often does wreck a woman’s life.” ‘‘Yas, I know et only too well. Waal, we give our Stella the best eddication that could be had at an ordinary school, and she allus carried off the honors at the head o’ her class. But, even this didn’t kivver ber ambition. She wanted to learn music. “She had a good voice, an’ knew a right smart lot o’ tunes but didn’t have no instru- ment, ’cept my old fiddle, Betsy an’ I were fond of music, an’ I were gittin’ to be purty well-to-do, an’ so when our girl hinted at a aner, I went straight to Bosting and bought er one, an’ I tell ve it made the other girls envy our Stella amazin’ly. “'The next thing wanted was a music-teacher. Thar wasn’t any ’round our parts, but, jest at this time, Squire Perkins took a summer boarder, who stid he was a professor of music from New York. Dunno whether he was or not, but he could play an’ sing, and did teach our Stella a power about music, an’ no mistake. ‘Well, things went along through the sum- mer, till it come Stella’s birthday. Then, one mornin’ we woke up to find our girl gone, and also the professor. He called himself Professor Reginal de Brown. ‘©No trace was left behind to tell whither they ae —— bad gone, and [ tell you, that for a time, it broke me and the old woman all up, Finally a letter came from New York, from our Stella. It told us she had come to the great city, with the professor, to finish her eddication in music, and that De Brown was defrayin’ all her ex- penses, and when she was eddicated, and intro- duced into society, she would be a great lady. ‘Jest fancy our Stella bein’ a great lady, with low-neck dresses, short sleeves, an’ sech frivilous things! I tell you, sir, it fairly made my an’ Betsy’s blood cold. ‘* Waal, Stella told us, also, that she had dis- covered that her benefactor—that’s jest what she called him—was very rich, instead of being a& pour music-teacher, an’ she said that they were engaged to be married, and would be home to see us Thanksgiving, on their wedding tower, ‘*T didn’t wait for no wedding tower, you can bet. I first went to the stable, harnessed up the fastest mare, drove to the nearest railroad sta- tion, and set out for New York. When I got there [ tried to find De Brown, but *twar no use. It was worse than lookin’ for a needle ina hay- stack. No one knew De Brown, an’ how should they in sech a mighty big city? Its an all- fired wonder [ didn’t git lost, myself. ‘‘ Finally, I put the matter into the hands of the chief of salle and paid him the price of a year’s crops, at the Cross Roads, to find our girl, But, even this did no good, and at last I returned home, a bear t-broken man, ‘*Thanksgivin’ come and went, year by year but our child never returned to the parental roof. So finally, the old woman and I gave our child up for lost, and have mourned her as dead, ever since, until lately!” ‘Ah! then, you recently learned something to gather hope from?” Vidocq inquired, having become considerably interested in the old man’s recital, ** Waal, yes, I’m kinder in hopes so, or else you wouldn’t ever catch me out in this dog-goned country!” Uncle Si replied. ‘“You see, it’s this way. Less than three months ago, Squire Perkins’s daughter, Keziah, got a letter, an’ on openin’ it, she found that it was from our Stella, There wasn’t no legible post-marks on it, so we could see where it cum from, but on the back of it, in blue letters, was writ with pencil, ‘ Sockdolager City Mail,’ That sot me to thinkin’ an’ rememberin’ that at some small places where they hey no datin’ stamps, they write the startin’ point on wi’ pencil, . concluded that Sockdolager City was where that letter started from!” **'You were doubtless right. But, did not the letter, itself, give a clew to the startin’ point?” ‘‘Nary clew. It jest begun, ‘Dear Friend,’ and ended up wi’ our Stella’s signature. Well, [cid not know where Sockdolager City was, from Adam, but:I remembered of what out- landish names they give some ©’ the Western places, an’ so mad¢ up my mind ‘that Sockdola- ger must be West, ‘‘So I fixed Betsy up as comfortable as I could, an’ told her when I cum, back I woul either bring our daughter dead or alive. Well, I cum West, and traveled and traveled, and searched and searched without findin’ any trace of this town, until about two weeks ago, I run across a miner who told me where to find it. and how toreachit, And at last, here I am, what’s left of me, after joltin’ around in yer con- sarned stages!” And here the old man paused to rub the per- spiration from his brow, with his big bandanna handkerchief, “Mr. Sloat, yours has indeed been a novel experience,” Vidocq observed, ** but 1 live in hopes that all will yet come out right, But, you haven’t told me the contents of your daugh- ter’s letter.” a; ‘* No, that’s so. Waal, I guess you better read that for yerself, ’ca’se it makes me f¢el kind of squeamish like when I try to read it.” He drew a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket, and gave it to Vidocq, who by the aid of the bright moonlight, managed to ‘decipher the following: ‘* DEAR FrienpD:—After many years—it seems an age to me—I will try and write you a few lines, to let you know that I am still living--but oh! so mis- erable and unhappy! * When [Tran away from my dear old home with De Brown. seven years ago, I imagined [ had a future of greatest happioess before me, But, alas, when too Jate, I found what a grievous mistake I had made in forsaking my dear old mother and father for one Of the worst scoundrels on earth, ‘1 came to New York with him, and learned that he wasrich. He gave mea good musical education, and finally we wer’ married. All went well for awhile, and we traveled extensively. But our honey- , <a tC LL LLL LL LLL LLL LL LLL moon was but little more than over when he became cross and neglectful, and made me very unhappy. I clung to him, however, faithfully, and tried to win back his love, but it was no use, He finally left me far, far from my dear old home, alone among stran- gers, and with my few months’ old b..be t. care for. l have never heard from him since, and that was over five years ago. . ‘‘ What I have suffered since then no one can ever know but my God, who watched over my destiny. At times I have been sick, near unto death; at times starvation has stared me in the face, and many Other troubles have besieged me, until— * Well, until but for one thing, | would willing! welcome death at any moment, What refer to is my child—my dear little girl, who is now the only comfort I have in life except remembrance of my rood old pa.ents whom 1 left at Perkins’s Cross Roads, ; ‘*My child is a little over five now, very beautiful and bright, and for her sake I must live on in this bitter life. *“T have never dared write home, for knowin what good Christian people my parents were, with their strict Puritanical ideas, I feared they would cast my Jetter into the fire, without even reading it. ‘*So, after all the disgrace and affliction I have put upon their dear old heads, [ cannot ever see them again in this world. Pe haps in the new life we may know each other, and all will be forgiven. ‘*Good-by, dear fnend. I simply write this to let you know i am living, but that, oh! my life isa living death! Good-by. Please try to cheer them up, for my sake. STELLA,” Val Vidocq silently folded the paper, with a very grave expression of countenance, A glance at Si showed him that the old man’s face was buried in his hands. Everything was strangely quiet where they sat, And the moon shed down its mellow light, as if beg compassion upon the head of the sorrowing father. —_—---- CHAPTER, III, ALL ON ACCOUNT OF A HAT, Vipoce and Uncle Si held a protracted con- sultation for a while, and then, as the hour was growing late, they arose and returned toward the hotel, Vidoeq having promised to do all in his power to find the old Vermonter’s daughter. If she was in Sockdolager, he would probably have no difficulty in finding her, even though she might be living under an assumed name, When they got back to the vicinity of the hotel, they found a Jarge and quite demonstra- tive crowd collected in front of it, ‘‘T wonder what’s the matter now?’ Vidoeq mused, ‘*Something must have gone wrong, In fact, [seldom strike a town where there is not some sort of a jamboree sets in, immediate- ly after my arrival.” By dint of considerable dodging about, he and Uncle Si succeeded in reaching the hotel piazza; but, no sooner had they done so, than a yell went up from the crowd in the street. ‘‘That’s him! Thar he is! He’s our mutton!” was the ery of a score of hoarse voices, while several burly miners sprung up the steps, Vidocq coolly turned and faced them, a pair of revolvers suddenly appearing in his grasp, ‘‘Well, gentlemen, what do you want?’ he demanded, ‘* Not you! not you!” cried the leader of the party. ‘It’s the old man we're after!” “Oh! are you? Well, sir, I represent the old gentleman on this particular occasion and am able to take care of his business, What can we do for you?” ‘*The hat! the dicer! that’s what we want, and we aire goin’ to have it, too!” was the cry. Vidocq then remembered having seen the strange sign, up the gulch, while en route for the camp, and was now well able to fathom the meaning of the gathering. ‘Well, gents!” he retorted composedly, “I am sorry to inform you that you can’t have that hat!” “Oh! we can’t, hey?’ ‘* No, you can’t!” ‘¢ An’ who’s goin’ to hinder us, me fine bucks” ‘‘ Tam!” Vidoeq replied, with the same steady nerve always so characteristic of him, ‘‘and ’'m just the double-distilled dancin’ dervish from ark Diggin’s what can do it, too. galoot who dares to come up bere and offer to molest my pardner’s head-gear, dies with his boots on, without further comment!” The self-styled Executive Committee of Sock- dolager City, listened, heard, stared, but failed to comprehend, What did it mean? Who was this bold individual, who dared attempt to bluff them out of their citizen’s righta, at the revolver’s point? mic s ; 3 ; The first ==