Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 657 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

a eT Dy Ct RS, SRE eam INT YY oPhe ey Warbling William, identity or intentions?’ he asked, when the examination was conclud ‘“No one!” she protested, ‘*That is, with the exception of aunt.” ‘‘ And you are sure the secret is safe with her?” ‘Perfectly safe. She has had no opportunity to tell any one, even were she so inclined.” ‘¢Tt baffles me!” Ware admitted, ‘‘ Leonard has penetrated my disguise and found out my secret. The perplexing question is, how did he accomplish it?” It was a problem not to be solved by ingenious theorizing; and when he left the house the whole matter was still wrapped in mystery. Of one thing, however, he had assured him- self: That was the perfect innocence and sin- cerity of Mand Malcolm. CHAPTER XI. THE KICKER AROUSED. To solve the mystery, to get at the real facts in the case, was the task now presented. How this was to be accomplished, though, taxed the detective’s ingenuity to the utmost, The plan they bad been pursuing, that of shadowing and watching, seemed as good as anything that could be devised; and they bent every effort to secure the best results it offered. Yet the days passed without positive develop- ments, No amorous swain ever haunted sweetheart more rsistently than Warbling William haunted the painted barmaid. He was at her side almost constantly, in season and out of season whispering sweet words into her evident- ly willing ears. But his efforts in that line brought no new facts to light. And though he became more and more convinced that sbe was in Leonard’s confidence and pay, yet he could entrap her into no betrayal of her employer’s secrets. In these efforts the Warbler was constantly distressed by the feeling that he was playing with an edge tool whose keenness and cutting capacity was unknown and unknowable. He knew the barmaid was watching his every tone and action as narrowly as he was watching hers, and the knowledge did not tend to com- placency and serenity of mind, It was a singu- lar game of suavity and skill matched against cunning and wit, Neither was deceived in the least by the lavish protestations of the other; and aside from furnishing a little amusement, their verbal fencing amounted to nothing. It achieved results, however, in a line differ- ent from anything he bad contemplated. Sam Brown, the Kicker, had taken it into bis bushy head to fall desperately in love with Miss Fanny Fulton, and the consequence was that a ragged and somber war-cloud quickly loomed above the social horizon of Rocket Range, ** [ll bave to look out for Brown,” the detec- tive asserted, when discussing this new phase of affairs with his boy second. ‘‘He’s apt to be reckless and bull-headed, I don’t think he has ever quite forgiven me for publicly labeling him asa kicker; and now that I have crossed his love trail he may try to do me up,” Brown’s first open declaration of war was the hissing of a ballad which the Warbler rendered in the course of a performance on the saloon stage. The Warbler paid no heed to this, but when it was repeated in a peculiarly aggravat- ing way he was forced to take notice of it. **T see that the Kicker is still alive,” he smil- ingly averred, beaming genially over the mixsd audience, ‘‘I am glad to know he is determined to maintain his hard-earned reputation, The gem just rendered is one of the tin my ex- tensive repertoire. if the gentleman thinks he can render a better I will yield up the stage to him and let bim try bis ’prentice band. I have sung that ballad from the Black Hills to the Rio Grande, and it was never hissed before,” ‘‘Durn yer ballids!” Brown growled, ‘ Ye’r’ a pesky fake, anyhow, and can’t sing ekal to a guinea-hen.” In this exhibition of humor, Brown verbally ‘put his foot into it.” Few men could handle the lash of the satirist as could the dapper little showman; and in the word-duel that ensued, Brown was routed, borse, foot and dragoon. After the performance he, bung around the outer entrance ‘as if thinking of administering bodily chastisement to the man who had thus overthrown him; but he evidently thought bet- ter of it as his temper cooled, for he departed after a time with a select group of cronies. — The detective, while not in the least afraid of Brown, was extremely willing that the matter should pass in that way. He felt that he would be compelled to shoot the Kicker should the lat- ter draw a weapon, and he was averse to blood- The next evening, while walking with the bar- maid in the shadow of the trees near the little stream which flowed by the town, a man rushed at him from behind a leafy screen, A glance sufficed to reveal the reddened and drink-swollen face of the Kicker. The latter held a murder- ous-looking knife in his right hand, and began to swear furiously as he made a dash, The would-be assassin apparently had no allies near, and as he came on, the Warbler squared himself to meet him. But, when the icker was almost witbin striking distance, the barmaid began to scream hysterically, and clung to the detective in a way to render him partially helpless. “Oh! oh!” she shrieked. ‘‘Save me, Mr. Ware! Save me! He means to kill me, I know! He said he would if I didn’t quit going witb you. Ob, dear me! Oh, dear me!” ‘* Let loose!” the detective shouted, angrily. “Don’t hold to my arms that way. Don’t you see he’s got a knife?” In spite of his command she clung to him with the pertinacious grip of a drowning person. ‘‘ Words ain’t trumps this evenin’!” the Kicker snarled, ripping the detective’s coat with a vi- cious stroke. “You kin han’le thet tongue o’ -yourn purty tol’able slick, but tongues ain’t knives, as you'll find out in jes’ about a second, While saying this he was maneuvering for a better stroke, rushing ’round and ’round the almost helpless detective, like a dog harrying some hapless animal. Again and again Ware tried to shake off the screaming barmaid. ‘*Can’t you see that he’s trying to kill me?” he cried, gripping her by the shoulder with his left hand and holding her at arm’s length. ‘* Let loose, 1 say! You’re a woman, but Ill nob responsible for the consequences if you don’t, The more he commanded the tighter she clung, and for a little while it seemed that nothing could save him from the murderous knife of the Kicker. But the detective tightened his clutch on her shoulder, and a stunning right-hander aoe the jaw bowled the big ruffian over sense- ess, ‘** Now, will you let loose of me?” the exasper- ated detective demanded, shifting his hand to the barmaid’s throat. ‘‘ Or will you compel me to choke some little sense into you? This non- sense of your’s came near proving my death!” “Ob, am I really safe?” she panted. ‘Oh, dear me, Mr. Ware, I surely thought he would kill me! He’s such a terrible fellow when he’s angry. There, he’s getting up!” She gave another scream, and again attempted to clasp the detective. ‘Enough of that!” he snarled, giving hera headlong push which sent ber spinning away from him. ‘‘Oneat a time is quite sufficient for comfort. Now, stand back, or suffer the conse- quences!” Brown was staggering to his feet, one hand caressing his bruised jaw and the other holding the keen knife. His red eyes flamed with drunk- en and vindictive rage. ‘‘Look out!” he yelled. ‘*I’m comin’ fer ye! Blast yer tarnal hide, I'll rip ye into ribbons fer thet?’ The barmaid was giving vent to premonitory screams, and symptoms of another rush, ‘Stand back!” Ware commanded. ‘“ Both of you, stand back, [ve had enough of this for one bout.” As he said it he drew a pair of revolvers from the pockets of his coat and leveled them, one at the Kicker and the other at the barmaid. Brown wavered when he saw the deadly tube pointed at his head, but the hysterical Miss Ful- ton came straight on. The Kicker took fresh courage from this and recommenced his advance, ‘You will have it, I see!” Ware shouted, pull- ing the trigger of the weapon he had leveled at Brown. . Only an ominous click followed, showing that the revolver was empty. ‘‘ What cursed plot is this?” he cried, dropping pve useless thing and as quickly leveling the other, The same result followed when he pulled the trigger. ‘Oh, I’ve got ye!” the ruffian yelled, when he saw the detective’s discomfiture and understood the cause, ‘‘Ill carve ye into sassiges an’ feed ye to the kyotes, that’s what I'll do! You'll think I’m a Kicker, shore ’nough, when I set my huffs onto ye!” ‘ Ware hurled the revolver at his head, and turned to confront the screeching maid, who was endeavoring to again wind her arms about him in a way to render him completely helpless, - en. = 45 7 ye %, - : aget _ 9K WE ON rE he ity? we, ve bp . bcd et Ab ad ‘* Curse you!” he gasped, clutching her by the throat. ‘*You don’t get hold of mea second time, Isee through your little trick.” But the barmaid was as active as a cat, and ex- ceedingly strong for a woman; and as he turned to parry Browns vicious thrust, she writhed out of his grasp and again came at him with arms outspread. Had the Kicker not been too drunk to secure the advantages she thus afforded him, it would have gone extremely hard with the detective; who, notwithstanding the fact that he was a trained athlete and boxer, found his hands more than full. Brown was too tipsy, however, te stand steadily on his legs; and when Ware again managed to clutch the barmaid by the throat, his terrible right-handers knocked the ruffian down as fast as he could get up. At last, when Brown refused to rise, he loos- ened his grip on the throat of the half-insensible maid, darted forward and secured the wicked- looking knife, With this in his hands he felt he could cope with a dozen such foes, ‘Now, come on!” he cried, his face flaming with rage. ‘* You will find me ready for you.” The Kicker had had a sufficient taste of the detective’s prowess, however. For a time he lay where he had fallen, to all semblance dead, Then, with a cringing and humiliated air, he crawled to his feet and disappeared in the thickening gloom. CHAPTER XII. DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND, ‘Ou, that was just too terrible for anything!” the barmaid panted, feeling of her bruised throat, where tbe lines made by Ware’s fingers shone as redly as her painted cheeks, ‘‘ He in- tended to kill me, I know! How can I ever thank you, Mr. Ware, for saving me from him?” The detective gave her a look of unutterable scorn, which was partially lost on her, however, owing to the increasing darkness, ‘* It’s useless to keep up that play-acting!” he asserted, ‘‘ You were a party to his dastardly attempt on my life, and denials only make your act more despicable. She resented the charge with a_ scornful laugh, ‘* And this to me, after all your love-making! I really gave you credit for more gallantry. You must think me an ogre, or some such ter- rible creature, Mr. Ware!” ‘*T know you for a demon!” the words rush- ing hotly from his lips. ‘“*‘ You wanted Brown to kill me, and tried to hold me so he would have no trouble in committing the deed.” She covered her ears with ber hands: **f positively refuse to listen to anything so dreadful! If you propose to talk to me that way,I shall go straight home, and leave you to eat your heart out, here in the darkness,” ‘‘ Which would be a terrible calamity!” with a mirthless chuckle. ‘‘ You will greatly oblige me by doing that same.” “Then Pll not doit. It isn’t good policy for a lady to oblige her lover.” He could not resist the feeling that she was ridiculing him. ‘“No doubt I was a poor fool for ever cul- tivating your acquaintance,” picking the revol- vers up from where he had hurledthem, ‘* You are not what I thought.” ** And what was that?” “You are so very shrewd, you can guess, no doubt!” “That you thought me a poor, simple creature whom you could use asa tool. I’m right, am l not! Waresmiled as he pocketed the weapons, ‘Think what you like, Miss Fulton, Whether right or wrong, I fancy that neither of us will have use for the other after the peculiar happen- ings of this evening. I don’t know that it does any good to quarrel. It only serves to heat one’s blood without effecting anything. I have m opinion as to the motives which guided you th evening. Probably you have an equally good opinion of some of the causes which bave led me on. I will be gallant enough to waive all preju- dicial memories, for the time being, and escort you home, if you will permit.” ** Many thanks!” she exciaimed, with a pecu- liar and irritating emphasis, ‘‘ You are very kind.” Then she extended her arm, and the two walk- ed slowly and thoughtfully back to Tanner’s where they bade each other good-evéning, as i 20 breath of suspicion had ever come between em, ‘*She’s a desperate creature,” he muttered, when he had gained his room, ‘‘I wonder who and what she really is? I see plainly that in te ee : ~e ~ ma q < +s, >" q » J ¥ fe VICK * ee e ny b> ‘ “ A te ; ~7 yo - « } - : (52 et rs ey af i el i. i ee ’ i Ly oe ‘ > r | @ ew _ i ‘ * host yuk . *, E p = / / » waa | \ a. « my ’ ral = ts —_ ie ya ; rus J ts » 7 4 P* el ° 1 . CS ia 4 j we 1 a rt > Mad as 7 g a TRU Ts Tren” ab