Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 618 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

re - CHAPTER IV, THE BULL-DOG FROM BUTTE. In the next room adjoining that of Ezra Moore, was a new arrival in Cincinnati. He had come to town on the late Western Ex- press, the night previous, and, although he was a rather eccentric and rough-looking individual, he had been successful in securing, at the Pal- ace, a comfortable room, upon exhibiting to the envious eyes of the night-clerk a huge roll of bank-notes, of large denomination, “ tipping” the clerk with a five-dollar gold piece and filling him up with wine. **] allow I ain’t much fer looks,” he had ob- served, ‘‘an’ I don’t sport a tailor-shop on me back, but you bet yer boots I kin show up more o’ the sugar than any o’ yer guests, ef I don’t w’ar shine-up shoes an’ white neckties, An’, when ye cum to consider, me ruby, thet I kerrys never less than half a million in me clo’se, an’ owns a ten thousan’ ranch, an’ three gold-mines, at Butte City, Montana, an’ can buy up a town wi’ my check, ’'m no slouch!” The night cleck was immediately filled with admiration for this bold and moneyed individual from the land of the setting sun, even as he was being filled with good wine; and thus it was, that, shortly before daybreak, Mr. Bill Book, of Butte City, found himself comfortably in bed, in the room next adjoining the one occupied by that desperate villain, Ezra Moore, Mr. Book’s advent, was destined to create a sensation among the aristocratic of the Palace Hotei’s patronage, where some of the first peo- ple in the land, in their visits to Porkopolis, were wont to ov for Mr. Book’s make-up and general personal appearance were something above the ordinary. He stood six-foot-six, in his socks, and tipped the beam at something like two hundred pounds, although one would scarcely have credited it, judging by his raw-boned appearance. His legs and arms were extremely long, but of good size, while his trunk was well-knit, and indicated great powers of endurance. His face wasastudy. It reminded one of a bull-dog. He wore no beard. His hair was “ fighting ” red, His dress was not calculated to create a furor in a fashionable hotel or dining room, Beginning at the bottom, he wore a pair of long-legged boots, and with soles an inch thick. Next came a pair of well-worn, trowsers of cordurcy, belted at the waist with a cartridge belt; then a buckskin shirt, liberally perforated with holes; and for a necktie, a piece of braided silk, formed like a noose. This completed the Westerner’s costume so far as concerns our story, but he made a truly ludicrous contrast to the Palace’s well-dressed patrons. After being shown to his room, Bill Book, of Butte City threw himself upon the bed, with- out undressing, and proceeded to take a snooze, ‘‘I’'m mighty lucky to git sich ’commydations, by ther blaaes!” he commented, ‘‘ These high- toned Eastern hotel-keepers seem ter ’spect a feller to be dressed ter kill, afore they kin get 3 tora cae 'Tain’t so in Butte City, cussed tis! And then the Pass ae from the Butte re- lapsed into sound repuse, Asarule, Western men are not sleepers of the long and steady kind, They sleep well, but awake at the slightest sound. It is the force of habit. When Bock, of Butte, awoke, it was by hear- 6, Pema in the adjoining room. e sat up on the bed, and listened, A door communicated between his room and the next. It was closed, of course and locked, no’ doubt, but, as Book’s bed ran alongside it, he was af- forded a capital opportunity to play the eaves- dropper. After listening a moment, he muttered. ‘* Blarst et, my ears somehow seem out o’ kil- ter. Iallow I need an eye-opener!” Opening a small hand-bag, which was his only luggage, he brought forth a pint flask of whisky, and sper gr the mouth of it to his lips, he drained it of its contents. It would have killed an ordinary man stone dead, this enormous dose of liquid fire, but Mr. Bill Book, of Butte, was not by any means an ordinary man, He was as tough as steel, his life having been one of hardships; then, too after the fashion of many Westerners, he had meeelly been brought up on the ‘ bug-juice” ttle. _ “Thar! I'll allow the Bull-lorg o’ Butte feels -, better,” he muttered, rubbing his stomach, with sy ow, then, I a swile of satisfaction. wanter Deadwo know what’s goin’ on in next room. I heerd some galoot ejeck a swear, an’ when any cuss will swear in sech a temple o’ grub as this, et must signalfy thet thar’s suthin’ wrong!” So he rolled onto the bed again, and assumed a listening attitude, his ear close to the com- municating door. And there he lay, motionless as a log, listen- ing to the conversation between Ezra Moore, and Cap King. He seemed deeply interested, for several times he started, It was when he heard a name mentioned. The name was ‘*‘ Jabez Clincher!” ‘* By thunder! so thar’s trouble in the Clincher camp, is thar!” he mused, ‘* Lucky I come as I did. Thar’ll be war, now. Them sharks, in next room—but hang it, I ken’t understand etall, darn my socks ef 1 kind Reckon the bug-juice warn't quite strong epvuff ter stir up my stum- mick, an’ lubricate my thinkin’-macbine so et would run right!” Just then, he overheard Moore give orders to King to summon Juna, and then go below, and watch for developments, ‘‘T must see this King!” the Bull-log mut- tered, and donning his head-gear, he quickly left his room, and passed Moore’s door, Just as Cap King came out, A swift glance at the captain, a swifter glance into the room, that was rewarded with glimpse of Moore; then, the Bull-dog of Butte passed on, and went down the stairs. When he reached the office, be sauntered lei- surely about, apparently unconscious of the as- tonished glances of the well-dressed aristocrats, who were distributed about the office and read- ing-rooms—wealt:y business men, a sprinkling of congressmen, and political magnates, not to mention a real live lord, from ‘‘ Hengland, you know ”—eye-glass and all,a regular swell, by the way. To the man from Butte, this dude appeared to be a great curiosity, and, after eying him for a time, he walked up and slapped him familiarly on the shoulder. "Why, helloa, pard! What range did ye blow down from?” the Bull-dog cried, ‘* Darn my ducats, but ye’r’a reg’lar rip-snorter in them store-clothes! Where’d ye strike et rich? In the mines or in the cattle biz? Cattle biz is poor this year, ‘count 0° lection!” His lordship shrunk back vs if shot. ‘‘ Sir-rh!” he gasped, ‘‘I do not know you!” ‘‘Hey? Oh, don’t ye? Why, darn it, man, hain’t you Mose Luggins, o’ Dakota?” ‘* Never was in Dakota, sir!” ‘‘No? Well, ’llswear! Ye’r’ the livin’ pic- ter of Mose Luggins, after he broke all the faro banks in Fargo. Lord! but didn’t he put on the style, tho’! Ye couldn’t tech him wi’ eased lightning. Ou, say, I fergot. He was nched fer hoss-stealing shortly after that! ut, I say, you do look mighty like him, Come! Let’s go and liquor up!” ‘‘Aw! Thanks, awfully, but I never drink!” the son of Britain declared, edging further away. ri Rover drink?” echoed the Bull-dog. ‘* Never drink!? Why, may I be stung by tarant’lers, an’ kicked to death by mules, ef ye orten’t be ashamed o’ yerself! Why, out our way, a man who can’t take his whisky, an’ take it straight, is no earthly good. Even the keotes an’ rattle- snakes shun him. Now, let me tell ye a keote aire a pestiferous anymile, and even me, ther Barkin’ Bull-dorg o’ Butte City, don’t like ’em. But I will say one snort ter their credit. In their own humble way they do appreciate a man who takes his whisky straight. Now, when they strike a mano’ this kind, they dis- sect the meat from his bones so clean that they are as white as an elerfant’s tusks; but, when they come across a teetotaler, a dude, or an anti-poverty chap, they jest simply turn a cold shoulder, give a screech o’ disgust, and fold their tent, and sneak silently henceward, Better come and h’ist some p'izen, deacon!” The Bull-dog from Butte City had no time for further arguments, A heavy hand was clapped upon his shoulder, and he was wheeled around facing the proprietor of the hotel. “ Well, sir,” that gentleman thundered, ‘* who are you, and what are you doing here?” ‘* Who? Me?” ** Yes, you |” ‘‘ What's that your business, stranger? First tell me who you are!” | *‘ [ am the proprietor of the hotel, and if you do not answer me it will be the worse for ou! ‘** The devil! runs the shebang, hey? By b You're the high cockolorum as excuse me! od Dick Jr. in Cincinnati. ee ae - e - es | Shake! I’m Bill Book, the Barkin” Bull-dorg” | from Butte City, Montana!” | “Well, Mr. Bill Book, be kind enough to ex- | plain your presence hefe.” | “ Why, hain’t ye looked at yer registeryation | book? , V7" “When did you arrive?” ‘Oh, [ whooped inter town ’bout midnight, and as I allowed, thru recommendation o’ Sen- ee ee were as likely a shebangfas I would find, I waltzed in, secured a room, paid a month’s rent | in advance, filled yer clerk chuck-a-block | with expensive drinks, an’ went to roost! Any- | thing else?” “Yes, It is my painful duty to inform you that you cannot longer remain.a guest of this house,” ‘*T can’t, hey?” ~~ Eo wes “Why not?” The Montana man’s eyes began to show un- mistakable signs of fire. ‘For the simple reason that we cannot ac- commodate you. We do not cater to yourclags, You are obnoxious to my guests, because you | are wholly unfit to mingle among refined peo- | ple. So you must go, ony money will be re- tunded, at the desk, and I will bave your bag: i a | gage brought down!” | ‘*Slow up, boss! If that baggage is teched I'll let daylight through you! D’ye know who L am!” ‘‘ No! nor do I care!” ‘ Well, sir, I’m the son of Jabez Clincher, the millionaire pork king!” ‘*T don’t care a fig if you were a Vanderbilt, sir. You cannot remain bere!” ‘‘T intend to go, but, listen terme, While ye can’t ’commydate a respectable Western man, yecan harbor ,hieves and murderers, Thar’s two of’em in theroom nextto mine. Yester- day, my old dad called to inquire for one of ’em, and received disgraceful treatment. That’s all. Fetch down my grip, r2fund my ducats, and Lil go. Cuss meef I want to remain in yer refined society any longer. We've got bears out Butte City that aire more refined than you!” The landlord stared; thn his face flamed with anger, Spying Deadwood Dick, who had entered im: time to overbear the foregoing conversaBon, and whom he knew to be a detective, ke cried.. ‘* Here, Mr. Bristol, arrest this ruffian!” Dick shook his head. ** Sorry, sir, but I cannot accommodate you!” ** Why not?” ** Because [’ve overheard what has just trans- pired, and would be doing Mr. Jabez Clincher’s son, an injustice!” ** How sv?” ‘* Because he is not in fault and you are!” ** You're a fool!” ‘“‘ You're a greater one; so while you refund one guest’s money, you'd better make it two, as I cannot find it in my conscience to remain here, longer!” . Very well!” and turning to the clerk Mr. Maxwell ordered: ‘Refund these men their money in full, and have their luggage brought down!” The Bull-dog of Butte advanced, and extend- ed his hand to the detective. ** 'You’re from the West!” he said. “How do you know?” “Cause you’ve got the Western grit inter yer carcass!” ‘*lam from the West!” Then, they shook hands. ‘“*T know’d it!” young Clincher declared. know, you, too, or of you!” “Who am I, and what do you know of me?” hi Bull-dog from Butte answered in a whisper: “Vor the feller they call Deadwood Dick, Junior?” : ‘Right you are! How did you know” * ‘‘ By ther name 0’ Bristol.” ‘“ Ah! Iam glad to meet you. Clincher’s son, I overheard ‘‘T am, tho’ he does not you know the old gent?” ‘Yes, Iam in his employ.” 4 a a detective q? ce es. “Bo ye the chap as got the old gent out o’ the wie this mornin’?”’ sé es,” “Bully fer you! You're white, you are, an’ twixt dad an’ well ake you rich, ou what about my sister Clara? Ther’s somethin’ I don’t quite get thr’u’ my noggin “ss st” cy You are Mr. Mies say.” cow l’malive Do “Are you going to your : 6 q ue -_ oO | | XN : ‘ y @) » eae an ° ‘ J = f ye do, you find thet I occupy room, ator Ingalls, whom I met on the train, thet this: fm oan ~ ae ~ —~ apg SF Se Ae ee =e a