Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 80 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

*sortin ; the scenes of my life since 12 —— eee — ‘* What do you want?’ Malvern gas ‘‘ What are you in this room for? alarm—”’ “Dare to do it, and I'll blow your brains out, as sure as I am accused of being a road-agent!’’ Nugget Ned said, viciously, ‘‘Go, now, and don’t attempt any more of this after-dark villainy, as you will surely be found out, Go! I say, and my revolver will attend your exit!” With another bitter curse the baffled man turned, one _sETung out of the window, with the Knight at his d, hoarsely. will raise an ‘“You shall pay dearly for this!’’ he hissed, shak- ing his clenched fist navacely, at this man, who had been a bloodhound upon his trail. “T fear you not,” Nugget Ned replied, calmly. “You area villain, but a coward, withal, and I re- gard you in the same light I would a snarling coyote. nd it is only a matter of a few hours before I shall take my long re ne revenge upon you, I shall not coimmit violence upon your person, nor shall I hire ruffians to kill you—oh! no! _ I shall stab you so deep with the hand of the law, that you will gladly seek the lyncher’s noose to rid yourself of your accursed life!” ‘‘Ha! curse you—curse you!” the scheming mil- lionaire gasped, crouching as if he would spring upon his foe—‘ I defy you. But, by the fiends, you shall tell me who you. are, under that mask, that you should bear me enmity. You shall tell me, I say, curse you—”’ and in his rage he sprung toward the Knight of the Gulch, his eyes glaring like those of some infuriated wild beast, and his fingers working en clag’ But the leveled revolver in the hands of Nugget Ned caused him to shrink back again, while a low laugh escaped the road-knight. “Ha! ha! you are not so fast as you were!” he muttered, loud enough for the mine-owner to hear. You see that Ihave the power. I mean to keep it. Tell me, Munro Malvern—know ye of none whom you have wronged that for that they should seek revenge upon you?” ‘‘NO! LThave done no one wrong that they should thirst for vengeance!” the millionaire replied, sav- agely. Your memory must be at fault, then!’’ Nugget Ned sneered. “ But go! Iwill cover p pt with my revolver, as long as you are in sight andrange. Go, I say, without another word.” Malvern obeyed. He foresaw that it could do him no good to resist, when the oo vate knight had the drop upon him. He accordingly turned_with a owl, and strode away down the street. Nugget ed watched him until he had disappeared from view, then he too left the vicinity, and the night crept on toward the break of another day. Munro Malvern returned to his own mansion, in a state of almost savage ferocity. Unexpectedly and to his satisfaction, he found ‘he ruffian, Hickory Hank, making free over wine and cigars, in his library. ‘** Ah! so you are here, eh?’ he demanded. “ You are just the man I want for some dirty work. Do you know the fellow they call N nugget Ned—the one who has been accused of road-robbing?”’ ‘* Do I know ’im?”’ Grim interrogated; “ wal, no— Ished say not. I'll allow thar *hain’t menny as hes ther honor o’ his acquaintance.” “Well, I want him dropped! You understand; he must not even stir—the bullet must be planted in a gure spot.” “‘Humph! is the galoot another ‘un after the pat- tern of thet sport ye sicked me at?” “About the same calibre—if any thing a little cooler, and harder to take!” the plotter replied. “Then, ye ken let ther gon out ter sum one else. I ain’t got a purtic’lar weakness fer snaggin’ myself ‘in’ corrugated volcaners—nary a time!” “Pshaw! you are a fool, Grim. It will be easy enough to drop this customer, by hiding in the bushes, an’ layin’ fer him, w’en he’s about, which is generally after dark. One well-directed bullet is all at is required to do the job.” ‘‘ How much rhino is thar back o’ ther job?” “Oh! as for that—here;"’ and the arch-plotter threw down a small roll of bills upon the table. “There are a hundred dollars, with a promise of more, when you bring me a piece of his ear to assure me that you have executed your work!” Grim arose with a chuckle. ‘‘Rf I don’t drap ther galoot twixt now an’ ter- morrow, this time, ye ken count me A. M. S—a mis- erable shyster. You bet yer boots the galoot’s a dead ’un in less no time.”’ CHAPTER X. BESS SHOWS HER HAND. Arter Grim had gone the millionaire threw him- self upon a couch and tried to snatch a few hours of Peep. But it was impossible. } His guilty conscience worked against his desire and though he closed his eyes no slumber visited him—he was conscious of everything. Memories, and evidently unpleasant ones, came surging back upon him, until at last, just at day-dawn, he leaped to his feet in a state bordering upon desperation. “Curse it, l am all unstrung!"’ he muttered, re- to the brandy bottle for solace. “I never such an accursedly wretched night, All was a boy ed in re- view before my mind’s eye. A dozen devils, backed by grinning skeletons of the past, seemed staring at me from every corner of the room, I am as hervous asacat. I feel like one haunted. The devil has de- serted me, and left me to shift for myself. My ene- mies are multiplying and crowding upon me. Ah! but they shall not win—oh! no, they shall not win. if there is money enough to hang them. Ha! is that > ————E — — ee —_—— you, Brass? What calls you out of your bed so early?’ Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. —. >I II Is into a merry laugh. ‘*Ha! ha! ha! a private bit of conversation wit me. Eh, Kentuck, ye old hoss? “ Pardon, mass’r, but a gen’man left a letter fror | how do thet sound ter you? Leetle thet way, ain’t rou, an’ sez as how I was to give you his respects!”’ rass replied, handing a large sealed envelope to the mine-owner, and then retiring. “Who can this be from?’ Malvern muttered, turning to a window, ‘‘None of my business ac- quaintances write in so graceful a hand!” He tore it open, half suspiciously. As he pulled out a sheet of paper a photo aph in cabinet size fell to the floor. With an ejaculation of surprise, he stooped and picked it up. A glance at the picture—then he staggered back with a frightful oath which ended in a horrified shriek of terror, and the photograph fluttered to the floor. He gasp- ed, and staggered to a seat, his eyes fixed glaringly upon the object on the carpet. ‘‘Ah! what blow is this? My brain is afire! my senses must be wander- ing. No! ten thousand curses—I saw it—that scene which has haunted the dreams of my life—saw it phone upon that card! Ah! a-a-ah! curse me! hy am I so cowardly? ‘Tis only a picture— ah! a-a-ah—!” The man was in a frightful state. He appeared like a madman,’so fiendish was the expression of his features and eyes, oe crouching upon his hands and | knees, he crept slowly toward the picture, as if he were afraid to touch it, lest it should dissolve into something that would annihilate him. Every nerve in his frame seemed strung at the tightest tension—he was in a spell of terror border- ing on actual frenzy. Now! he reaches the picture, and with a low gasp- ing growl, not unlike some mad beast, he gazes down at. the scene which is photographed upon the card. ‘Tis not a scene calculated to inspire any man with pleasant emotions, much less to the crime- haunted mine-owner, around whom the meshes of the retributive net are gradually gathering; nor is it a scene that often occurs on ordinary photographs. It is of a room, in the center of which a coffin is jlaced upon the support of a pair of trestles. The idis removed, and, wrapped in a shroud, there lies within the coffin the form and deathly face of a wo- man. Beside the céffin is another figure—that of a boy, not yet in his teens. He kneels, with hands clasped and eyes upraised toward heaven, as if taking an oath. The features of both the boy and the corpse are distinct and recognizable to one who had seen the originals in life. unro Malvern had seen them, and recognized the dead face now, with a horrified oath. “T am not mistaken!’ he gasped, clutching the card between his hands. ‘‘Iam not mistaken, curs- es upon her! It isshe! and the brat! Ah! the devil —what thought is this which strikes me? Can it be —can it be he, this sleuth who has dogged me so cape A By heaven! it is too horrible for cre- dence! But, even though such is the case, they shall not foil me—oh! no! they shall not foil me. The Big Bullion mine is yet in my power, and—ah! there somewhere és that which Robert Mapleton left, that should it come to light would dethrone me. But it is buried where no one could find it, or else it would have been used against me long ere this. Yes, Mun- ro Malvern, you have every chance of winning this little game yet, with your backing of gold!”’ Persimmon Bill, the scout, whom we have casually mentioned in previous chapters, was a man wit whom few in the city of Deadwood cared to meddle. He was stern and reticent, and was unpopular among the majority. He put in a share of his time in the mines, where he owned a small pan-claim; or, when an opportuni- ty offered, went as a guide with some exploring ex- pedition or emigrant caravan. Among those whom he counted his friends was the eccentric dare-devil, Baltimore Bess. They had met many times, and become as brother and sister to each other. Yet the scout had watched the girl with more than seh or agg interest, for she was after his own liking in her dashing, vivacious, dauntless character. Indeed, Bess had no lack of admirers among the “old residents ” of the thriving city. All had learn- ed that it was best to respect her, rather than to tender disrespect; for she had set an example suf- ficient of its kind by Le engon, Bin the a couple of roughs who had insulted her on her first appearance among them, in the free and easy character which she sustained. No one dared to even think of or talk of her as they had of her predecessor, Calamity Jane. She was of the same general type of character, but was invested with a something which made an impure idea of her seem ridiculous. As we have said, Persimmon Bill had watched her observantly, only to learn that she was “all on the uare.” He was not doing this for motives of ma- trimonial inclination as may be supposed, but for reasons which he made known to her this same day, which was to be the trial day both of Jessie Maple- ton for theft, and Rosebud Rob for murder. He had seen the dare-devil enter the “‘ Little Brown Jug,” and he followed her there, to find her engaged in conversation with Kentucky Jake, the red-nosed proprietor. But she turned with a pleasant smile as she saw the scout. “Ts et you, Persimmon? What’s gone wrong with your traps, old fellow?” ‘Nothing, Baltimore, only I came to have a little talk with you—something a little private, you see,” — scout replied, taking a retired seat by a deal-ta- le. “A private talk with me?” the girl cried, bursting | et?’’ and she laid a hand in the region of her heart, ‘* Haw! haw! I sw’ar ef et don’t strike an observer sum so,’’ Kentucky Jake affirmed. ‘* Wall, jest you keep a revolver handy, then, Jake, and ef ye see me go ter gettin’ soft an’ squeamish, like, haul off and plug me one fer all ye’re worth.” Then, laughing heartily at the idea, she crossed the floor, and joined the scout at the table. “You needn't have feared, Bess,” he said, pleas- antly, ‘‘for it isn’t my business to make love to any one. I think I can get along through life without a woman tied to my coat-tails.” *Hurra’!’’ Bess cried, bringing her hand down in _ an enthusiastic slap upon the table, “‘ bully fer you, Persimmons! I admire your resolve. A woman is poor stock at best, bet yer boots! Kentuck, ye rute, fetch me a cigar on ‘hat. Now, go on, pard,” But you are a woman, Bess!” Bill said, in some surprise, as he gazed on her with admiration beam- ing from his eyes “Um! um!" was the reply, with a shake of the head. ‘‘Sence I tuk ter wearing breeches, Bill, I count myself just as big a man as there isin the mines, though Pll allow thar’s sum‘a dasted sight meaner, “True enough. And it is on a subject akin to one of these-which I wish to speak about. You prob- ably know that this is the day of the trial of Rose- bud Rob, for murder. In my opinion it’s going to give the poor fellow a close rub for the limb of a tree. The man Malvern has noend of money, as the Big Bullion mine, alone, is yielding him something above a thousan’ a week.” ‘Yas, et’s goin’ hard for the Sport,’’ Baltimore Bess said, gazing moodily at the floor, “‘An’ he war a cool sort of coon, wi’ plenty o’ fun in him, when et cum ter fun.” “You are right, when you say that there is fun in him. If he had not got into this murder trap, there'd have been a new proprietor for the Big Bullion mine, I’m thinkin’, I say this as an admirer of the Sport—for he regards me as a being less than a man, all because of a little matter between us up in Cinna- mon guich. As usual, of course, there was @ woman in it, you see!”’ “7 know’'d it!” Bess said, with a sage nod of her head. ‘Never yet heerd of a quarrel ‘twixt two men, yet, Whar thar warn’t a woman init. Thet’s ther confounded difficulty o’ hevin’ ’em luxuriatin’ in this glorious country, Bill—they’re allus gettin’ us sterner sex inter trouble. Why warn't the wo- men born men like you and I, Bill?” ‘ “*T cannot attempt to explain the conundrum, Baltimore!’ the scout replied. ‘ But, to the story. Another person ran away and Jeft me in such a posi- tion as was a reflection of dishonor, and after that Rosebud Rob very justly cut my acquaintance. On coming here to Deadwood I was accidentally placed in charge of some papers which I have found relate to Rosebud Rob, and will no doubt be the means of clearing him from Judge Lynch’s noose. I have been studying for some timeif I could trust you with the possession of these papers, as I do not wish to hold them, and am not over eager to present them to the Sport in person. I have found that you were trusty, and I now wish to place them in your hands, that you may give them over into the hands of Rose- bud Rob’s counsel.” ‘What! give anything of the value of a pin into the hands of the colonel!’ Bess exclaimed. ‘ Not much fer Maloney! I'll B hey plead a part o’ thet same case myself, providin’ you give me the pa- rs ‘Very well—do as you will. Here are the papers; and if my eyes are not at fault you'll make them count advantageously for Rosebud Rob. Now, good-by, for I am off as guide of a train to Big Butte creek, Give my respects to Rosebud Rob, and my hopes that he may escape from the toils of his foe!” hen, shaking hands with Bess, the scout shoul dered his rifle and left the tavern, first having left a package of papers upon the table. After he had gone Bess picked them up and turn- ed trium phantly to Kentucky Jake. ‘Thar! ken ye dare ter say thet I heven’t got the card now, ye galoot’ Hurra! jest ter think roven myself a man among men by un- dertakin’ ther responsibilities uv a lawsuit! Ther female sex ar’ discounted—ar’ nowhar! They'd faint at ther gigantic duties which devolve upon us men— wouldn't they, Jacob?” ‘““Yas! I opine they would purty much do thet same!” allowed Kentucky Jake, graciously. “I've allus kerried ther ijeer thet them feminines warn’t o’ much account more’n ter wash dishes an’ darn ks!” “On course they ain't! Wharfore I put on brit- ches an’ assumed ther dignity 0’ aman!” Bess said triumphantly, as she left the saloon. ‘ Just outside, she met Munro Malvern, who sprung upon her with an oath too vile to repeat, ‘‘Give me those papers which the scout just gave ou!’ he gritted. “Give them to me, curse you, or 1] murder you on the spot!” “* Will you!”’ the dare-devil cried; and then she ex- hibited her wonderful self-possession and power, by suddenly lifting the millionaire off his feet, and cast- ing him heavily upon the earth, The next instant her right foot was planted upon his breast, as he would have risen, and a pair of revolvers looked threateningly down into his face. “Oh! ho! Mr. Munro Malvern, ye will purty much murder me, won't ye? oh! yes, you bet your pile! You’ve got gore right plum in yer eye, ain't ye?” she said, mockingly. ‘See heer, ye bloated old blasphemous buftier bull—d’ye know w’at I've a no. tion to do? D’ye know, Isay? Wal, ve got a no- trum thet I’ve Gomicbooks Gom =