Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 57 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

S turned his attention down upon the Bar.. ‘‘ The girl was a ve the aceomplishment of my aims, for fear she'd dig my eyes out. But with her yet. Tu humble and’ degrade her, or break her accursed neck, before I go back to the So 1’-west.”’ Flood Bar the next day was struck with a sensa- tion. Before day-dawn a canvas pavilion had been stuck up on the old site of the Black Cabin, and pasted upon giant banners were huge, life-size portraits of Deadwood Dick, and a red aud white poster contain- ing the following: “STARTLING CURIOSITY! ‘WONDER OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY! “THE GENUINE HEAD OF DEADWOOD DICK, ~~ _ Preserved in liquor. On exhibition, now, within this Pavilion! “The head of the greatest Road-Agent that ever | lived! Recently captured and killed near Flood Bar. “COME ONE! COME ALL! ‘““ADMISSION ONLY THIRTY CENTS!”’ And when they awoke in the morning, these peo- ple of Flood Bar, they saw the great, glaring st- ers, heard the noisy harangue of the crier outside of the entrance, and, very naturally, all grew excited. For the head of Deadwood Dick was not to be seen every day, either dead or alive! CHAPTER IX. OUT OF THE PIT.—AVALANCHE’S IDENTIFICATION. We must now return to Flying Floyd, Deadwood Dick’s lieutenant, and his dusky charge N olie, whom we left beside the strange lake in the bowels of the mountains. After Nolie’s restoration to consciousness, they sat or stood around the fire which Floyd had built, un- til their clothing had become thoroughly dry; then, they retired for rest by lying down close b the em: bers, and when they awoke it was still dark, with only a faint reflection from the sky coming down in- to the abyss, but even this made it a trifle better than on the day before. ““We now have all the daylight we can have down here!’ Floyd said, looking to his watch, “It is already long past sunrise, up in the outer world. So if there is no escape from this living tomb, we shall not be troubled with too much light!” ‘Oh! is it not a gloomy prospect?” sighed Nolie, burying her head in her hands. ‘I believe I’d rather have remained with the outlaws!” ‘“Pshaw! It won't do to get eseoprance yet. There may be a dozen ways out of this dilemm which we have not yet discovered. Wait, and I wil corral some of the fish that seem to abound in this lake, and we will see if they are palatable.” He accordingly proceeded to little shallows or bays to find them literally infested with a species of the finny tribe not unlike the salmon, A couple were soon in hand and dressed, and while there were few bones, there was a creat abundance of fine delicious meat, which when Floyd had succeeded in roasting, he served up on bits of flat rock, which had to an- swer the purpose of plates. The meal, though consisting of but one dish, was hearty, and amply appeased the appetites of our two inter-earth Robinson Crusoes. After the meal had been dispatched, Flying Floyd lit \ resinous pine cone for a torch, and acco panied by Nolie, set out around the lake in search of some mv le of escape. “There must be some place of escape for this rene more of which is constantly being added to the lake,” said Floyd, as they marchedalong. “ The volime of yonder spring is considerable, and this pit would soon fill up, were there not some outlet or the water.” “True, there should be some opening,’ replied Nolie, “ but it may be too small to admit of our es- caping through it. They moved along, sca narrowly the walls of rock upon their left, as the shore curved along. ‘If there is any break, I think it is across the lake yonder, where the low ledges overhang the shore!” Nolie said, pointing over the dark water. * Let’s go around there and see.”’ They did go around, carefully scanning the route as they went. The ledges in question bulged out from the main wall, shelf-like, and so low down that a person was obliged to stoop down, in order to get under them and along the narrow, sandy shore. ** Here, if anywhere, you will find the outlet we are seeking!’’ Nolie said, pointing ahead of them. “ You can go under the ledges, and explore, while I re- main here.” _Aceordingly, leaving her behind, the lieutenant crept in under the great stretch of natural shelving, an | along, by the aid of his little torch, making a careful survey as he went. For some distance he found no re of any outlet, and was growing dis- couraged and impatient, when he came to where the water had worn its way out of the Devil’s Hole. | It was a large round tunnelin the solid rock, dec a trifle downward from the surface of the lake, an through which the superfluous water of the basin f. and exit. As he stood at the mouth of this aper- ture, Floyd perceived that a person could enter it standing half erect, but whether such a passage could be continued any great le of time or not, was to remain an unsolved question, until the two aT prisoners should choose to make the trial. Floyd went back to Nolie, aad related the success tigress, and I never dared to attempt | by heaven, I am _ not re ee oe Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. of his explorations, and the probability of their being | just which way to turn, now, to take us out of the able to make an escape from the pit of darkness. It was gladsome news to the pe girl, and she shed tears of joy as they hurried back to camp. “Oh! then, when shall we start to escape?” she asked, gazing trustfully up into the road-agent’s eyes. ‘ world, onee more.” **As goon as we are ready we will attempt the passage!’ ring up the fire. “First, however, we need to this palatable fish food, for we know not how long it be ere we can egain get. food. Even when we are once out of this pit, into the mountains, dan- ger lurks everywhere in the mountains, for the new red-skin chief, Half Moon, and his dirty Vagabonds, are roaming about, preying and offering great in- dignities to all small parties they chance upon. Be- sides, ere we leave this place, I would know the story of your life, which must be an peg botaas one. Be not afraid to confide in me, for I am your friend, and any advice or assistance you may need from me, will be heartily granted.” ‘“‘ Yes, you are very kind, but I know not if I ought to make # Sen. my confidant,” Nolie replied, gazing thoughtfully into the fire. “I will, however, trust- ing no harm will come therefrom, It is but a short rie yet much of importance is connected with it, or me, ““My mother was, and if still living, is, an Indian woman, or rather a half -breed, between American and Sioux, fully cultured, and of fair education. When a young woman, she was the princess of her my dear young lady, ; Floyd responded, stir- tribe, and the recipient of many valuablefland and money gifts from both the settlers and the Indian agents, because of the peaceful influence she exerted among the tribes. When in her youth and beauty, a handsome, dashing cavalier came from the East, and induced her to leave her tribe and wed him, which she did. Allof her property and valuable trinkets were sold, and the cash turned over to her husband, which amounted altogether to a great sum of ready money. Well, Markeesa and her pale-faced husband dwelt in Minnesota for one year, during which time one child was born, myself; then the husband ran away with Markeesa’s money, and she never saw rain. ‘* Time rolled around, until five years age, when my mother learned where my father was ng in the East. She wrote to him, but received no‘answer. We then confided our trouble to Jackson Sterling, an In- dian agent, better known as Red Lark, and he prom- ised to act for us, He wrote to my father, but what the contents of his letter was, I shall never be able to tell you, for he did not tellus. But after a month he got a letter, in return, and immediately there- after, we were taken prisoners. Iwas taken to Big John’s outlaw stronghold, at that time over on the Yellowstone. Since that time I have been kept with them, and never have seen any one I knew or could appeal to for relief. My poor mother was taken off to another dismal mountain prison, where, I have since learned, she went stark mad. That is, sir, the secret of my life.” “And a strange bit of life’s reality, too, I should Flying Floyd remarked, thoughtfully, as she ed. “This Indian-agent traitor—what did you say was his name?”’ ‘Red Lark—or Jackson Sterling.” “I think I have heard Deadwood Dick’s men meu- tion him, as being a second-class desperado. What was your father’s name, miss?” “Cyril Waltonby. My name is Nolette Waltonby —a name given me by my poor crazed mother.” “Waltonby! Waltonby!’* Flying Floyd muttered, reflectively. ‘‘ Where have I heard that name? Some- where in these Hills, and not long ago at that. 1 won’t be positive, but Iam impressed with the idea that there is a settler in the Musquekang valley, by the name of Waltonby.”’ “ Ah! then can it be that my father has come back to the West?” the girl cried, a strange, dark flush mantling her brow. “Would to God 7 could find “And, why? Youcould do nothing with him, to ? say,” prove yourself his child. “Yes, Icould. Ihave my mother’s mettiage cer- tificate from the chaplain at Fort Laramie. And even if I cannot get back Markeesa’s money, I can ac- sa gl ae remaining object of my life.” “e a ” ** Revenge! Cyril Waltonby shall feel the hand of vengeance strike heavily upon him for the great wrong he has done.” “Yes, you have that satisfaction left, if you can effect no compromise. But, we first see what we can do. uybe I can be of service to you in ar- ranging matters. We will now eat and sleep until Seti Py OL and then attempt to leave this Devil’s Accordingly they spent the day in rest and conver- sation, and, when ott fell, seaecunted their hard couches by the embers. Early the next morning they were astir, and equip- ping themselves with torches, and roasted fish, they set out upon their venture for escape. On a ying at the outlet or water-tunnel, Flying Floyd took the lead, and they cautiously ent the e, advancing step by step, and watching with sharp scrutiny the sides above and around them. The water splashed beneath their steps, and caused strange echoes to reverberate aro them. For what seemed almost an interminable space of time they kept on, all the while gradually but sensibly descending. But, at last, after several Oars they emerged into pga rugged canyon, and Flying Floyd gave an ejaculation of surprise and jo **Cheer up, Miss Nekie, for lick is ours, I know repare a supply of | I would so like to get out into the living | mountains. we had horses to ride, we could reach Deadwood Dick’s stronghold in a ore of hours. By foot, in about twice that length of e.” Great was tthe sensation in Flood Bar! Far and wide was heralded the news that for the small sum of thirty cents, the head of Deadwood Dick could be seen—thirty cents only to view one of the great- | est curiosities of the Nineteenth Century! Jack Barronet’s Telephone and Tally-Ho Stage line to Deadwood was one medium to circulate the news, and brought in double-loads of excited visitors to see the head of the notorious road-agent. And the general verdict rendered, was that the head had once stood upon the shoulders of Dead- wood Dick. The proprietors of this novel ente ; rise, were two” sharpers who had received their iation into the’ way of making money during the early days of Cali- _fornia’s harvest, and they took great ee SSS - | | a ride in pre- senting their prize for public inspection, although they pene reticent as to how they came into posses~ sion of it. When Old Avalanche heard the news, a grim ex- pression came over his features. ‘** Don’t b’lieve et’s Deadwood Dick no more’n you or I am!" he said, to Jim Pero Virginian. “Great ham-bone w’at abused ther constitoochim uv old Joner! How d’ye suppose any feller human *‘d ever git his bread-mixers around ther head sup- porter o’ Dickey? Lord, ef I war as sure 0’ etarnal salvation as I am thet Dick’s at this very moment not fur off, a hugely enjoying ther joke, l’d go an’ insure m life, swaller a dorg-button, an’ make work fer thet Elijer Swain.”’ ** But, you'll find you are mistaken, when you go and view the head,” said Miaco, who had already visited the show. “It looks just like Deadwood Dick's fotygraff, w’at they've got stuck up onter ther canvas.” ‘* Well, we can better tell, when we look with our own eyes,’’ Belmont replied. ‘**Come on, Avalanche, anéwe'll take a squint at the elephant.’ ‘**Great surrepticious ham-bone, yes,’’ the Annihi- lator replied, cheerily, although there was a er- ing of doubt in his mind and voice—*‘ we'll hev ter go see ther sarcuss—‘ go ter see ther anymals,’ as ther pious folks allus say, when, ef ther truth war known, all ther care about ‘is seein’ ther sareus. But, talk about sarcusses—ye jest orter’ve seen ther Annihi- lation, when et war all tergether. Royal American. ham-bone! b’iled thunder an’ concentrated lightnin’ warn’t skeercely nowhar, Ef et warn’t fer ther hard times, I’d heva histr’y writ uv ther great ex- loits o’ we three—would, by gracious!”’ ‘By this time the two men were at the ‘‘ Museum,” and paying their fee, they entered the crowded pavi- lion hey did so, their hearing was greeted on every side with the exclamations from many a lip. “Yes, et’s a fair shake! Et’s Deadwood Dick's head, sure enough.”’ Avalanche and Belmont pressed forward. The head was inclosed in a large glass globe, filled with brandy, and placed upon a pedestal where all could view it. It had been cut off close to the neck’s connection with the shoulders, and had a very life- like appearance, The face with its clear handsome features, high forehead, and long raven hair were all too nearly like those of the hwayman, for a doubt to be given that this was not the head. ‘**T cave!” Old Avalanche said, t away with tears. stre down his face. ‘‘Et’s my boy, Dickey, an’ no mistake.” CHAPTER X, HARD-CHEEK, THE TRUMP CARD, And Avalanche, as well as the people, accepted of it as a verdict that Deadwood Dick had played his last card, and that it was his head whom the two California “eer were exhibiting to hundreds of spectators, daily. “T’m sorry fer you, old man,” said Jim Belmont, as he led old Alva back to camp. “No doubt ye thought a ne" o’ ther road-agent cuss, an’ all that, et aire but I s’pect a blessing ter ther Black Hills thet he's ed out.”’ “Great utin’ ham-bone that old Joner did hi- falute! then ye ain’t no pard o’ ther great boreal eppydemic, ef them aire yer moralistic views o’ ther case. No, sir-ee! Dickey war jest the very quintes- sence o’ human natur’, electrified by a dose o’ cavortin’ lightnin’. Game war he as ary young rooster thet evyer matched spurs, an’ ef ye couldn’ lick a feller-mortal yerself, because yer j‘ints an’ hinges war gettin’ old and rusty, Dickey war the lad w'at could do thet same perlite little job fer ye.” “Yes, we'll admit that he was good-h and perpen t in some ways, but he was , Unpu- ent and merciless in others.” **No he warn't, no sich at 1’ the old oon ae plied, dancing up and down, indignantly. old ‘int, Florence Cordeliar Night-in-a-gale thet» m ’ Dickey war jest as squar’ a as vegetates thes side o’ ther river Jordan— ll bet my 08 he-goat ‘in’ ali ther govynorment bonds ye kin skeer up.”’¢ e two men sauntered back toward camp. On ong way they came face to face with Carlos Cam- re. Jim Belmont had of course never seen the Span- iard to know him, but Avalanche had, and recog- nized him, immediately. “ Hello!” he exclaimed, pointing his sharp little eyes straight at the ex-lieutenant. “Great ham- bone w’at ‘arthquaked ther system uv old Joner, et’s that dasted garter snake, Careless Cucumber.” And the old man poppes stock-still, bloe i the path. Cambre likewise stopped, seeming re ly surprised at the meeting. ‘Hello! you here, old rackabones?” he saluted, orm yooKS-com