Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 672 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

10 man win. No hittin’ below the helt, nor punchin’ a man when he’s down. Stand up tothe rack and let it go forth to the world that Durango has gota Sullivan as well as Boston.” This speech was greeted with tremendous applause. Durango, in its own estimation, ‘was much superior to Boston. By this time Dick and Brandon had strip- ped to the waist. Both were about of a size, and of equal muscular development. At a signal from Murphy, the fight began, amid the most intense excitement. Although Brandon had no repute as a pugilist, he handled himself cleverly, and it was soon evident that the two men were pretty evenly matched. Brandon drew the first blood, on Dick’s nose, amid terrific applause. ‘*My man, for a thousand!’ yelled Wes- ley Wyndham, who had joined the throng. ‘‘Taken!” shouted Murphy, who was Dick’s ready backer. This first blood seemed to suddenly arouse the redoubtable Richard, and with one crash- ing blow, he caught Brandon in under the jaw and toppled him over. Brandon was not knocked out, however, and was quickly on foot again. Then for the next ten minutes there was some fearful ig Wesley Wyndham was in his element, He was flourishing his money around, and offering to give odds on Brandon. Murphy had taken him up, to the extent of several hundred dollars, and Jim Jackson covered as much more of the mine-owner’s money. The excitement grew momentarily more and more intense. Brandon was gradually becoming the favorite. Deadwood Dick, in his adventurous career, had been in many contests; but, had never yet met a man who could stand befure him as long as Brandon. But, Dick finished him at last, when with one awful blow, he leveled his adversary, and Brandon lay where he dropped. He was completely knocked out, ‘‘T reckon that settles it,” cried Murphy, in high spirits, ‘‘So now gents, gents, walle up,,and pay up. The circus is over, the clown is down in the ring and the only one to be paid off is the ringmaster. hat’s oe So walk up, boys, and pay your ebts,” CHAPTER XII. A JOLLY LAY-OUT. THE battle over, Dick was naturally the hero of the hour, that is with a proportion of the population—those who had made a nice little roll of money on bets. Mayor Murphy’s wallet fairly overflowed, and Jackson’s face was like a sunbeam over the cash he had captured. Dick of course had made nothing but sore knuckles out of the racket, but he had won ‘general public approval, that at once took the shape of an ovation. At the suggestion, Murphy cried: ‘* Yes, by jingo! That’s the proper caper. The feller stood up and pounded for our amusement, and it did not bring him a red. As representative citizens of Durango, we are honorably in duty bound to give hima grand old blow-out.” ‘‘So say I! Let’s see if we can take upa collection,” _ A canvass was made among the crowd, and much to the surprise of the projector of ,the affair, a considerable sum was collected. ‘The proprietor of the White Elepiant ten- ‘dered the use of his big bar-room wherein to vhave the ** lay-out,” and the news spread all \throu h the camp that Deadwood Dick was ‘to be feasted in honor of his victory. Eph Sands, who was the Delmonico of ‘Durango, was ordered to get up the biggest supper he knew how to prepare. 4 ° wee , ' : . Deadweod Dick, Jr., in Durango. Long before the hour set for the fete, the town began to assume a holiday appearance. The young women had on their best clothes, and some of the miners surprised their necks with a white collar. Of allthis Dick was ignorant, until after a thorough cleaning up and a general repair of damages, he left his room and descended to the street. Then he learned the cause of the commotion. A crowd was assembled in front of the White Elephant. What was termed a Silver Cornet Band— the remnant of a stranded theatrical com- pany, were endeavoring to murder the music of Strauss, but if poor Strauss had been there, he could have saved them much breath, and all the trouble by dropping dead on the spot. ee Well, what is all this racket about?” Dick asked of a bystander. ‘* Why, it’s in your honor?” ‘* Mine?” ‘“Yes. The citizens are goin’ to feast you, for doin’ up Brandon. Mayor Mike ened has charge of all the arrangements, and he don’t do things by halves, We're goin’ to have a gay old blow-out and all in your honor.” ‘* Well, I don’t know about that.” ‘Don’t know about what?” ‘‘ Having anything to do with such a fan- dango. “Why not?” ‘‘Because I am not a professional prize- fighter. I did not fight Brandon for either notoriety or money.” ‘‘ We all know that, but you made money for your backers, and they are going to do the square old biz by you, and no mistake.” Just then Murphy came rushing up with extended hands. ~ ‘“‘Ah! my beloved fellow-countryman, it gives me infinite pleasure to see you looking so bright and blooming, I don’t see as you got burt very bad.” ‘‘ Well, no; only a few bruises.” ‘* And have you heard the news?” ‘* What news?” ‘‘ Why, we are going to banquet you, my boy—we're going to banquet you. We are going to give ye one of the biggest blow-outs there ever was in Durango.” ‘* You are foolish!” ‘* How 60?” ‘* Because I do not care for so much fuss over a trifle.” ‘‘Over a trifle, hey? And d’ye call the lickin’ of Ned Brandon a trifle?” ‘‘ITdo. He is plucky, but heis no fighter.” The guests were now beginning to assem- ble; so taking Dick by the arm, the mayor pulled him into the White Elephant. The card-tables had been transformed into dining-tables, and fairly groaned beneath the mass of meats and delicacies. It was about the biggest feed Dick had ever run across in the wild West, and it was near midnight when the roystering party broke up. Dick wanted to get away, knowing that Scott would be impatient, awaiting his com- ing. Tie found his aide in anything but an ami- able mood. ‘’Bout time you put in an appearance. I?m getting well tired of this job.” ‘*Sorry, but I was kept against my will; what have you seen or heard?”’ “* Nothing.” ‘‘Did you see Wyndham leave the house?” ‘“Yes. He went toward town.” ‘Did you see him when he returned?” ‘*T did.” ‘‘There’s no use of hanging around here, any longer, to-night, then, you think?” ‘Not a bit.” ‘‘ Well, we will go back to the hotel.” They were port setting forth, when the sharp report of a rifle sounded close at hand, and Scott dropped like a log. ‘*1’m shot,” he moaned. At the same instant a voice cried out: ‘* Gathered in!” CHAPTER XIII, IN THE DRIFT. Iw the darkness Dick could not tell from whence the shot had come, not having seen the flash. He presumed, however, that it came from the rear, as the voice sounded in ° that direction, He noticed another thing, too. ! The voice was not that of Calamity Jane, Junior, but rather was that of a man. Leaving Scott where he had fallen he rushed off to the rear and—into trouble. He had not gone twenty paces when he received a stunning blow on the head, and’ with a groan, fell insensible. When he awoke he was in a strange place. lt evidently was a room or chamber in @ mine, which had been fitted up for a mine- boss, for there were odd pieces of furniture here and there, showing that it had been tenanted. Dick sat propped up against the wall, securely bound. He was not alone, for three men sat in the firelight of an immense fireplace. These three were Wesley Wyndham, Ned Brandon, with his swollen face all patched up with court- plaster, and an ex-convict, named O’Leary, who had a big reputation in Durango, for having killed his half-dozen men. They were conversing between drinks, and their backs being turned, it was several minutes before they noticed Dick’s return to consciousness, 80 he heard a part of their conversation. Wyndham was speaking. «« Well, we were in luck to capture the cuss 80 easy.” ‘* You're right we were!” assented O'Leary. ‘* He is a tough b’aste.” ‘* We will take some of the toughness out of him,” Wyndham declared. ‘* So we will, bedad!” ‘You can thank me for his capture,” put in Brandon. ‘‘If I had not put a hole through old Scott’s head, we would have had @ harder job.” ‘‘True, But I am sorry you killed the old man.” ‘‘Good riddance. He was never any use to himself or to any one else,” replied Bran- don, heartlessly. ‘‘It will create a big stir in Durango, for he was well liked.” ‘“What do I care? Noone will know who killed him.” ‘‘T wouldn’t like to be in your boots if this Deadwood Dick ever gets free, me lad,” remarked O’Leary. ‘‘ He won’t stop forany sluggin’ business now, You will get popped over at first sight.” “¢-You bet he will!” It was Dick who spoke. The three villains gazed around with a start, as if some departed spirit had addressed them. ““Ah!” called Wyndham. awake, are you?” : “* As you see,” vey ‘“* How do you like the situation?” ** Bully!” ‘You won't like it so well, directly.” “This seems to be a pretty comfortable sort of a prison.” ‘*Not for you. to be running loose.” ‘Ts that so?” “Tt was an unlucky day for you when you came to Durango, We shall make an example of you, as a warning to others of your kind. In what manner or fashion would you prefer tc pass in your checks? You have your choice of a number of popu- lar and effective methods.” ‘* Well,” replied Dick, ‘‘I shall go to New York, take an ocean steamer, ride to mid- ‘* You are You are entirely too fresh f Se com