Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 630 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

eet en 4 > em ewe - ; han Then, after a pause— ‘‘There is a bare possibility, yes, a bare chance that I am right.” CHAPTER VI. FIXING THE WAGER. Tue entrance of Jim Lane and Golconda was an unexpected arrival, on Tim Hale’s part, for he and Lane were not on the most friendly terms. Golconda was a frequent caller, and his entrance caused no particu- jar surprise. Large in frame, with swelling muscles, he was a picture of physical strength. As for color, he was about the same as Old Rocks, with the exception that his forehead and chin were slightly lighter. He had a fine mustache, beautiful hair, and was really as finea specimen of an athlete as you would want to meet, Whoever has heard of No-Man’s Land, has no coubt heard of Sheriff Jim Lane, for he was one of the pioneers, in this strange country—a man of -forty-two, stalwart and broad-shouldered, with a full brown beard, hair of the same hue, and a friendly expres- sion of countenance. Yet when ‘‘riled” he was a bad man to deal with, and therefore, was not very popu- lar. But, he was honest, so if any match of any sort was to come off at Beaver, Lane was chosen referee and stake holder when bets were up. His decisions were not only quick but reliable. It therefore appeared strange to the fre- quenters of Tim’s place that Thornton should select Lane as his stakeholder. ‘‘Lane!” he said, ‘‘ here is a chap who proposes to tackle Golconda to-morrow, and wants to back his opinion with some money. We want a stakeholder, and have decided that you will be mutually acceptable to us, in case you are willing to act.” ‘*Very well,” Lane replied. ‘ I'll act for youif you wish. When the gent puts up his entrance-fee with me, I will assume charge of the stakes, and award them to the best man.” ‘‘My money is ready,” Dick replied. “‘Here’s my entrance-fee, and here’s the amount for the wager.” Explanation was then made as to the amounts and conditions of the wagers, after which Thornton, alias Pryer, placed his share of the stakes in the sheriff’s hands, and papers were drawn and signed, binding the bargain. This was really not essential, as no formal contract holds valid by law in No-Man’s Land. If a man contracts a debt, it cannot be collected of him unless he is really honor- able enough to pay it, or is forced to do it, at the muzzle of a pistol. During the signing of the papers, Gol- conda looked on in silence. When Dick ap- pended his signature (he signed ‘“‘R. M. Bristol, ’) the gladiator looked the detective over narrowly. ‘‘ Deadwood Dick!” he ejaculated. ‘“‘The same, or, rather, Deadwood Dick, Junior.” , “T am glad to meet you,” Golconda said, extending his hand, ‘‘and, although we are to contest for the championship, i hope we shall not become enemies, whoever wins.” “No need of that,’’ Dick replied, accept- ing the proffered hand. ‘By the way, how many contestants are there to be?” ‘‘T can answer that question better in the morning, my friend,” was the reply. ‘At present you are fourth on the list. All the entries will be declared in the morning.” ‘Very well. Will the prize be visible be- fore the contest?” ‘No, but she will be present at it.” With this Golconda, accompanied Dy the sheriff, left the dug-out. A little’ later Thornton left; then, asking the rest of the gang to ‘* have something,” Dick also took his departure. — Before he left, he had a few words in private with Jim Oaks, ‘Well, what d’ye think of him?” the lat- ter demanded, as he proceeded to fill his pipe. ‘‘He’s a fine looking specimen of man- hood, in my estimation.” ‘Do you think you can best him?” ‘‘ Well, I can try.” “The odds aire ag’in’ you as well as me. Thornton will put up a good man, for he in- tends to have the Singing Bird, by one means or another.” ‘‘He will have to work for her,” Dick said. ‘* Who will he put up?” ‘* No one knows, I reckon, ’cept it is him- self. Ther’s several good men he kin hire, but, [ allow none of ’em is an all-’round match for Golconda.” ** Well, to-morrow will tell the tale,” Dick replied, “and then we will know. At all events, I don’t intend that Thornton shall have the girl. I don’t like the man.” ‘There's mighty few in Beaver that does, ‘cept they like him for his money. He ain’t got any more friends than he needs, even if he has got more money.” ‘‘Is he so very wealthy?” ‘*Waal, I can’t say how much, but com- mon report has it that he’s got more money stowed away than any man in these parts. However that may be, he’s allus flush, and ve known him to put up a thousand dol- lars on the turn of a card. That’s big money for No-Man's Land.” ‘Yes, I should say so.” ‘‘Darned hard times heer, but 1 am in hopes o’ makin’ some money to-morrow.” ‘*Well, i hope my prowess will enable you to do so,” Dick replied. From Tim’s to the only hotel in the town, that was respectable enough to bear the name of hotel, was a walk of five minutes; but, owing to the still driving storm, Dick covered the distance in half that time, Warming himself, he retired to his room, and tumbled into bed. “T’ve a lot to do to-morrow,” he mut- tered. ‘‘I must do double duty, win my wager, and work up the case that brought me here. I must hunt for my blind friend, for Jackson must be here. I know he has not lagged on the way, blind as he is. Re- venge is his guiding incentive, and I don’t blame him. ‘*T fancy I solved the matter, immediatel upon my arrival. This girl Singing Bird, may be the lost heiress. If so, then Old Rocks, as they call him, is Waukesha, the Navajo, and this man who calls himself Thornton, is Nick asf forger, kidnapper, and villain-at large. Then, too, something seems to tell me that Bill Jackson has not given me the whole facts. What he has paid me as a retainer is already absorbed, and how am ['to know I am to get more? Well, there is no use of fretting.” And the tireless detective quickly drifted over the borderland of sleep—sweet sleep and rest. CHAPTER VII, THE BLIND MAN CHANGES HIS TUNE. THE blind man did not awake until late the next morning, when he half-arose on the couch, and stared about him, though he could not see, ‘‘[ wonder where she is—she with the angel voice? Ak! ITremember. I had sunk in the snow. I havea faint recollection of her bringing me here; after that, I talked. Yes, she gave me something to warm me up. I wonder what I said? I wonder if I gave her the false names under which I have been journeying? “If my man would only come—my de- tective, Bristol. I would feel safe. He would take care of him that is blind. Ob! if I could see, I could then pick out my enemies and my friends! But, alas! here Iam, shut up in the dark, alone, forsaken. . 7) 7 & " ‘, er ~s 7 Deadwood Dick Jr. in No-Man’s Land. 5 But for my child, I would wish I were dead!” “ You are not quite alone,” Singing Bird said. ‘‘I am here, to do what I can for you.” ‘* Who are you?” And the old man pressed his hands to his temples. “Tam Singing Bird.” “Ah! I remember. It was you who res- cued me from the storm?” oy: 5 fey “It was ee kind of you. Did I have a talk with you last night?’ ‘*'You did.” Relative to finding my girl?” kee. ‘Yes, you are right. I have a faint re- membrance of it, but, will you please tell me what 1 told you? Give it in detail. I am, owing to my blindness, very careful not to give correct names or descriptions, or cir- cumstances, until | have cautiously felt my way. Neither was I in fit condition last night to talk.” The Singing Bird did as requested, repeat- ing what the blind man had told her, He nodded his head. ‘When I am not right in my mind, I am inclined to give all sorts of names. Although the general thread of what I have told you is correct, the names are not. My name is William Jackson, but I have traveled under so many dliases in my hunt for my enemy, that, really, it seems strange to me to speak my Own name again. My enemy’s name— the man I intend to kill when I meet him— his name is Nicholas Bray. The detective who has preceded me here, if he has not been killed on the way, is Richard M, Bristol. Get a piece of paper and put it down.” Singing Bird complied. ‘*Go on!” she said. _** Next, the name of my daughter.” ‘* What is it?” ‘* Birdie Jackson.” “What next?” ‘* Let me see. eres, : ‘“T must get to a hotel. Is there one here?”’ ‘Yes, but it is no place for you. You are not able to be out yet, so you had better remain here forthe day. Ishall be out most of the time, but will leave you food and drink on the chair beside your bed. The most you need is rest.” ‘‘No doubt of that. Iam getting old and feeble, and yet I am going to kill Nick Bray, and don’t you forget it! I have sworn to that!” ‘* Murder is a terrible thing, sir.” “True, but no worse than stealing a man’s child for the sake of getting a fortune by ex- tortion. No! no! my good child, you don’t know all yet, by any means.” ‘‘ Well, don’t worry yourself at present. Keep as quiet as ponatule and if there is any- thing I can do for you before 1 leaye— [I must soon be going.’ ‘‘ Where aie you going?” ‘Into town.’ ‘‘Well, make inquiries for Dick Bristol, and tell him IT want him. He must conduct the business if he is here. If not, you must do it.” ee 1? ‘“Yes, you. Are ye not my friend?” ‘Yes, Though I seldom make friends with any one. T like you, Mr. Jackson. I will endeavor to find Mr. Bristol if he is in Beaver City.” : “Thank you.” ‘Ts there anything more I can do?” ‘Find, if you can, Waukesha, the Navajo, and also find Nick Bray. I think one of the men whom I mentioned while I was delirious was one of the party Iam looking for, sight- less as I am. It is Bray, alias Pryer, alias—” Here he paused. IT am in Beaver City?” Eomicbooks