Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 705 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

4h have and I may need it before I can have some more printed. Many thanks,” Having received the card, Mr. Mole restored it to his pocket, and then the three set out for Damascus, young Norman walking beside his horse at first and chatting pleasantly with his companions, They had traveled thus nearly a mile when the clatter of hoofs came to their ears and two mounted horses swept suddenly into view. Both were magnificent animals. One was ridden by an imposing-appearing man of abont forty-five, the other by a beautiful girl not far from twenty. As the strangers saw young Norman, both lift- ed their whips and saluted, the man shouting something that was drowned bythe clatter of hoofs. Norman lifted his hat with an air of the greatest respect, and man and maiden swept on along the winding trail. With his hands on his hips, the little Dutchman stood and stared after the strangers till they disappeared, ‘t Methinks he is smitten,” oMperved Mole, with a shrewd wink, ‘‘AndI cannot wonder, That maiden was fair as a poet’s dream,” ‘*Td vas nod der gurl,” declared Fritz, as soon as he could command his tongue, ‘* Bad I pe- liefs dot I haf seen dot mans pefore somevares, I guess so. Who he vas?” ‘*That was Mr. Horatio Duke,” replied Royal. ** He is the leading mine-owner of Damascus and the founder of the town. He is often called ‘ the Duke of Damascus,’” ** Und dot gurls?” ‘Is his adopted daughter,” answered the young man, coloring a trifle, ‘“* How long vas this Duke uf Damascuses peen aroundt these barts?” ** Since he discovered the ‘Royal Duke Mine’ and founded the town three years ago.” ‘*Ish dot so? Und haf he nefer peen avay vor fife or sixt mont’s ad von dime?” ** Never.” ‘** Vell den, I makes von pig misdakes. He vas nod der man v’at I dinks he vas, I pelief. Mein eyes vos giddin’ mighdy deceptive und I vill haf to puy a bair uf douple-parreled sbectagles,” Once more the three moved onward toward Damascus. ** You will find our townin quite a stir,” said Royal, ‘* There has been some trouble in the ‘Bengal Tizer Mine’; the men have quit work, Purely out of sympathy, the hands of the Royal Duke knocked off for to-day. They have no grievance in particular, and itis probable the most of them will resume work to-morrow.” Before long they reached a point where they could look down the trail upon the little mining- camp that lay in the hollow cf a picturesque mountain pocket. And there they came upon the mule, The deceptive animal was standing beside the trail with its head hanging low down and its eyes closed, ‘“Shimminy!” gasped Fritz. ‘‘Dot animals vos asleeb! If I gids his pack on vonce dimes more he don’d gid me off so schlick, you ne mein poots! I vas haf a try sboost vor fun, V’en I gids his pack on I sthicks like von purdocks in a cow’s dail, Now, shoost keep your eye beeled und see how I fools dot plasted peast.” Slowly and cautiously he approxched the mule. The animal did not stir or open its eyes. Likea creeping cat, Fritz reached the mule’s side, then with a bound he sprung upon the unconscious creature’s back, at the same time giving utter- ence to an ear-splitting yell. The effect was electrical. With an answering bray, the mule fairly shot through the air and went skurrying down the trail toward the mining-town, raising a cloud of dust that slowly settled behind it. And Fritz clung fast to the animal’s back as if his life de- pended in keeping bis hold. Into’: Damascus shot the mule and its rider. The door of the Sweet Buttercup Saloon was wide open, and through the portal bolted the animal! Ia front of the bar the tricky beast came to adead halt, and once more the Dutch- man shot over its head. But he landed fairly on his feet at the bar, down upon which hoe brought his clinched fist with a resounding thump, shouting: ‘*T wo peers; von for meinseluf und von for dot shackmules!” CHAPTER III, FRITZ AND THE MULE IN TROUBLE—VIOLET VANE’S FIRST BLOW, THE unexpected advent of the Dutchman and the mule in the Sweet Buttercup Saloon created ' gome excitement. The as wastbronged with the eee es and it was a wonder that one had been injured by the inward rush of an Violet Vane’s Vow. As if to emphasize Fritz’s order for beer, the mule sunk back upon its haunches like a dog in a sitting posture, and opening its mouth wide, gave forth a fiendish bray! At that the little Dutchmau whirled swiftly round, exclaiming; ‘*Don’d you pe in such a plasted hurrys! I haf ortered der peers meinseluf, so you shust shud ub you het ub! You haf a leedle coldt in you voices vich makes him somev’at onbleasant to der ears, Berhabs dose beobles in here don’d vants to hear you talk some more, I guess so,” Toward the bar shambled a scowling black- eyed fellow who looked ugly enough to exter- minate the Dutchman and the mule. ** W’at in thunder do you mean by coming in here in this way?’ he demanded, glaring fierce- ly at Fritz. ‘*Eh? Vas you speakin* mit me?” *¢ Yes, I’m speakin’ ter you,” **'Who you vas, don’d id?” ‘* That’s none of your blasted business, but I don’t mind telling you I’m Rush Cole, a bard boy from Headwaters. My han’s are stained with human gore!” ‘Vas dot so? Berhabs you don’d meed me some oder dimes I dinks. Lam Frisky Fritz, der pully poy mit von class eyes, und 1 haf der skeledons uf sigsdeen men v’at | kilt in mein hip-bocket, How vas dotfor high? I vas glat I don’d mage your agwaintances, Shage hants mit yourseluf,” And the unruffled little Dutchman grasped his own left band with his right and went vig- orously-through the motions of shaking hands, bi le be grinned agreeably in the face of Rush ule, ‘*I believe you mean that for an insult,” growled the tough, clinching his bony bands, ‘IT yvouldn’t pe so sensadive as dot for zwi hundret tollars, I don’d see v’at you vants to pe so sensadive for, If I vas in your poots und at dot homply mugs on me, I vould gif some- podys den cends to shood ma, I vouldn’t pe so sensadive as dot v’at you pe vor nottings ad all, Ogscuse me v’ile I trinks mein peer,” But as Fritz was turning toward the bar Cole’s heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and he turned back to find himself looking into the muzzle of a revolver beld in the ruffian’s hand, ** Now,v’at vos der madder mit you?” demand- ed the Dutchman, betraying no symptons of fear. ‘*I pegs your bardons bud I nefer drinks oud uf dot kindt uf a pottles,” ‘* Waal, you are liable to get a dose out of this kind of a bottle that you will not like.” ** How vas dot?” ‘*T have half a mind ter shoot yer through ther head.” **Oh, gome off mit your voolishness! I pets me your life dot bistol vasn’t loated.” At this Cole gave the fearless Dutchman a savage shake, **You derned thick-headed fool!” he snarled. **T believe 1 will have to shoot you before you will understand that you are in danger of kick- ing the bucket,” ‘I nefer kicks noddings no more, Since I dried to kick dot shackmules und stood on der scbmall uf my packs [ haf svared off on kickin’, Vonce more I pegs you to ogscuse me v’ile I sur- rounds dot peers.” ** Ye bain’t goin’ ter drink no beer.” iT V’y nod?” ** Because I say so.” ** Vell, id sthicks me v’at vas der madder mit you. You must haf von gum boils on your prain. I vould rather hav von hundret tollars than pe such a plamed vool as you vas, I pets _ you esgapes from some loonertentary asy- um, For a moment it did seem that Cole would shoot the reckless Dutchman, It was plain the ruffian bad hard work to restrain his desire to puta bullet through Fritz’s head. But for the probability that the affair would end in a tra- gedy, the crowd would have been convulsed with laughter; as it was, they were on the verge of an outburst, ‘* Let me take a han’ thar,” A. six-foot ruffian who was known in Damascus as Hank lrons—sometimes ‘* lron Hank” e!lbow- ed his way through the crowd, **Ther Dutch son of a gun wants somethin’ ter drink,” he said, ‘‘so let’s fill him an’ ther mule with whisk’, We'll guv ’ema good time,” The idea of getting both Fritz and the mule drunk and then having some sport with them met the approbation of the spectators, the most of whom did not care to see the little Dutchman injured. ‘But, Fritz did not favor the scheme. ‘*T dinks I haf somedings to say apoud dot coot dimes meinseluf, V’en I orters peer, I dakes peer, . 1 vas nod trinkin’ viskys shust apoud now, und dot mule alvays trinks der same vat 1 do. It vill pe ovhealthy for der veller v’at vools mit dot peasts, He haf some- dings vorse than tynermite goncealed mit his hindt paws,” fron Hank rapped on the bar with his knuckles. ‘*T wo bottles of chain-lightnin’,” he ordered. The barkeeper hastened to set down two bot- tles of vile whisky, extracting the corks at a motion from Hank. The big bully passed one of the bottles to Cole, saying: ‘* Turn thet inter ther Dutchman,” Then he grasped the other and moved toward the mule. Fritz grinned and winked at the crowd. ‘‘ Shust keeb your vedder eyes beeled,” he ob- served, in a stage whisper, holding one hand to the side of his mouth as if to keep Irons and Cole from hearing. ‘‘If you don’d see some circuses in apoudt no dimes ad all I vas a vool. You petter gid pack oud uf der vay ven Fritz und der mules gids to movin’, Oh, mine cra- cious! vat a bicnicks!” As Irons approached, the mule arose to its feet and stood eying the bottle doubtfully. ae PRS to orders, Rush Cole seized the other bottle and grasped Fritz by the shoulder, growl- ing: ri Open your hash-trap, you infernal Dutch- man,’ At about that moment Iron Hank grabbed at the mule’s bridle, saying: ‘Whoa, there! Stand still an’ take yer bit- ters, or Pil—” Just whut Hank thought of doing if the animal did not stand still and take its ‘‘ bitters” the crowd never learned, for, with a squeal like the blast of a steam-whistle, the mule whirled and launched out with its heels. Plainly the crea- ture was an expert in that line, for it made a very fine calculation, Hank had whirled to dart out of the way, but he was not : pe enough. The mule’s heels struck the big fellow’s pantaloons about ten inches below the back- strap, and Hank was lifted bodily into the air and burled forward upon his stomach. Fritz was not idle. ‘‘ Der enderdainments vos gommenced,” With a sudden and unexpected movement, he grasped Rush Cole by the collar and a con- venient part of the breeches and, lifting the para- lyzed tough from his feet, threw him over be- hind the bar! ‘* Pless my soul!” he exclaimed, in apparent surprise. ‘‘ Dot vas easy as nodding ad all. Vas there some more uf dose beobles in here somevares v’at vants to haf some fun mit Fritz und der mule? Don’d pe pasketfulls, shentle- men; ve can make him aggreeable vor ycu,” For a moment there was a dead silence—tlie silence of amazement. Then Hank Irons scram- bled to his feet with a furious roar, snatching out a knife. ‘* Pll cut that cussed mule’s throat!” be howled. “Come on, boys! We'll wipe out both ther Dutchman an’ ther mule!” In answer to his cry Rush Cole came scram- bling back over the bar and three more figures spruog out from the crowd, The two ruffians were reinforced by Pistol Pete, Webb Spotty and Pedro, a Mexican, making in all five of the hardest characters in Damascus. ‘*Vade rightin!” shouted the gritty little Dutchman, spitting on his hands, ‘‘ I pets you somet’ings dot Fritz und der mule vill make him lifely vor der crowd,” And they did. Rush Cole did not get fairly over the bar before the Dutchman tossed him back again. Then Fritz waded in to help the mule dispose of the remainivg four, was not asleep, by any means. Squealing viciously and showing its teeth, it charged for Iron Hank as soon as that hard case showed an inclination to resume hostilities. Hank darted to one side and Webb Spotty struck at the mule with a knife. But the animal seemed to have more than one pair of eyes, Out flew one of its rear hoofs, catching Spotty in the stomach and sending him sprawling and howling with ain, ¢ ‘*Dot’s der vay ve do him!” laughed Fritz, as he followed the mule’s example and lift- ed the Mexican with a powerful kick. “Ve are der lifely poys mit der feet uf us. Id ish nod of’en dot I runs me acrost such a sblen- did bicnicks, Shust vatch dot mule! Mein Cott! don’d dot vas a sighd vor sore eyes Irons was having all he could do to keep out of the mule’s reach, and he found no opportu- nity to strike the animal witb the knife. Pistol Pete was chasing the mule, but was taking care not to share Spotty’s fate. It was a comical sight, and the crowd ‘se. i = « Ey , we Let Ye Oe ' ~ & ‘ay P i] * hi, “ ~} j & a A ; ‘ : fi* Oe a @ i 0 ¢ hy i. - 4° | | hfe te , a Pes rae roared with laughter, — i he | | — The mule . ’ o ‘ . - = . - ry an - 2 . + > 7 > > . > _ Jn - > x > ae ae + —— > ae oe -~ * # * . « - = Pf z *. * Ps ~" — t : ~~. 3 fom a a ofA } ‘vite ie i | —S ~~ » é ¢ ¥ ’ oy oP ”) ~ or ¥ eed /, s it Re oh Md te * ae aD bf