Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 802 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

‘ aint socks, unt bullets, unt dings like dot. me b’ilt shirts,” ‘* And where are you going?” ““T peen going to Deathbed Camp—” ‘‘Guess you mean Death’s-bhead Camp, don’t ou?” ‘‘ Vell, id vas all der same, anyhow. Say, dot is a poody nice pin you vear, I got one l trade you mit dot.” As the man spoke he drew aside the lapel of his | coat and displayed.a diamond pin with tones about the size of those worn by the man on the bony horse. There were but thrree, however, set in a row from left to right, thus; * * “7 don’t think we can trade,” the horseman declared. ‘‘ Yours is pretty nice, but there are only three to my six. By the way, what’s your name?” ‘* My name by der vay? My name by der vay is yust der same as it is in any Oder blaces; Hans ‘Yagar, Now, v’at is your own name, maybe?” ‘*My name, sir?’ and the man in seedy black drew himself proudly up and laid his hand on his breast. ‘‘ My name is Eurastus Bungle, and Tam a lawyer. [I am going to this camp of Death’s-Head to hang out my shingle. I must bid you good-day, sir.” With a bow, then, the horseman went on, riding in the same lazy manner as before. _ Not a great distance further had he proceeded when he overtook another peculiar personage. This time it was a young Irishman, wearing a _ sheet-iron bigh hat and carrying a tinker’s kit and furnace, . ‘* Good afternoon, friend,” Mr, Bungle greeted as he came up, and the wayfarer stopped. **Dhe same to you, sor, whoever ye may be,” the tinker greeted, ** And where are you going?” ‘* Sure, it is fur Dead Head Oi am bound, or phwatever it is dhey call dhe same, But, be- orra, Oi do belave me legs will play out before ‘Oi get dbere.” ‘** And I am in no position to ask you to ride.” ‘** Begob, an’ ye got down from dhat bunch av i ae ye would be, fur dhen Oi could take your ace, are W hat is your name?” ‘‘ Mickey McGee, your honor,” ‘* Well, Mickey, what would you give me for the horse?” ‘* Bad luck to me, sor, av he was up fur foive dollars Oi couldn’t buy his tail, no more Oi could. Oi: have someting Oi might trade wid ye fur him, dhougb.” ** Aud what is that?” For answer, the Irishman turned back the Jeft lapel of his smutty vest and displayed— again the Diamond Dice! ‘It contained four stones, about the size of those in the lawyer’s pin, and they were set separately to form a square, in this manner: * * * By “Oi see ye wear dimings yersel’,” he said, “and it’s maybe we can strike up a swap. Phwat do ye say?” The lawyer sniled, *‘ [ could not think of it,” he responded. ‘I could not part with my noble Arabian charger at any price, It is beneath my station to walk, and were I to accept your offer I should soon be offering a kingdom for a horse,” ** Sure, it’s but a short span ye are from bein’ afoot as it is,” “Fling not your aspersions at my steed, sir. This noble beast has worn itself threadbare in my service, —*Tn youth he carried me, And I’}l protect him now; or words to that effect, to quote the poet, thrusts in his sickle and severs the silver cord that binds—” ‘*Begorra, but Oi t?ought ye wur goin’ to say e would carry Aim ; bless me soul av Oi didn’t!” Lifting his nose high in the air, as though in- sult had been added to injury, the lawyer rode on without another word, leaving the young Irishman looking after him and laughing to bimeself, Some distance further, and yet another char- acter was overtaken. . In ar apo the bra sr eg was a gentle- man of color, rather smartly clad, carrying two gizable grips. pmb ree? Lae But No, . sir; January and I[ can never part till Deati | a He stopped as the horseman came up, and put- ting down his grips, proceeded to wipe the per- | spiration from his dusky brow with a ban- danna. He was a rather good-looking darky, genteel in appearance, and on the front of bis *‘ b’iled” shirt bosom sparkled a singie diamond similar in size to those in Mr, Bungle’s pin, Truly, diamonds seemed to be trumps on this day. And, was it acoincidence? Having liken- ed the others to the spot on a die, this one would certainly fill the place of the ace, representing as it did a single spot: * ‘* Hello!” greeted the lawyer. ‘‘ Whither bound, my sable friend?” ‘(ss gwine ter Head o’ Death, sah, if I eb¢r gets dar. Seems ter me et’s aright smart ways, sure nuff.” ‘‘Tam beginning to think the same myself well-mounted ss 1 am. What is your name? and what are you going todo at Death’s-head Camp? You did not have the name «. te right,” . ‘‘My name is Pompey Sunflower, sah, at: I’m a barber, I’m strikin’ out fo’ myself,j;an’ I ‘spect to open a shop dar at—at— Whay you said,” ‘* Glad to hear that, Pompey; I will certainly patronize you. A barber is a luxury notalways to be found in these wild camps, Well, I must hasten on, for the day is no longer young.” The darky responded, and they parted com- ny. Before the lawyer had covered another mile he overtook still another man oo foot, and this one was the chiefest chieftain of’them all, to judge of him at first blusb. That be was a bummer was patent at sight. He was greasy, dirty, and ragged, and shuffled along as though too lazy or too tired to lift his feet clear from the ground when he stepped. His flimsy hat ws pulled low over his eyes, and his hands were in his pocket half-way to his eblows, As the lawver came abreast with him he look- ed up, showing,a face that was covered with a stubby growth »f beard,” ‘* Mister,” he said, ** stop @ minnit, will ye?” ‘¢ Whoa, January!” cried Mr, Bungle, drawing rein, ‘' What’s wanted, my poor fellow?” ‘¢ You hev hit et right, mister; ’m at present ther poorest feller ye ever seen in yer life, What I want now, wuse’n anything else, is a drink, Hev ye got anythiag drinkable about ye?” “Sorry, »ut I haven’ta thing. Did you not see that spr ng a little distance back?” ‘* Water,, Would you have me commit sui- cide?” ‘Ah! [see, way of liquor.” ‘* Yes, yes. I can’t pay ye, but here’s some- thin’ I’d give fer one taste of ther real thing,” As he, spoke he turned back the front lap of his woolen shirt and displayed a pin containing two sm!] diamonds set like this: * \ You mean something in the tk Again the lawyer smiled, as be had done when talking with the tinker, ‘**T will not question where you got such a thin? as that, sir,” he said, ‘‘ but I am obliged to dash your hopes hy telling you I have no liquor about me,” ‘he bummer groaned. ““'W hat is your name?” asked Bungle, then, My name is Kennaka Kolt,” was the an- swer, ‘*] am bound fer Death’s-head Camp, if I can hold, out to get there.” ‘** And what are you going there for?” _ ** To get a drink,” | A few remarks more were exchanged, when the lawyer urged his steed forward again, leav- ing the bummer bebind, He overtook no further travelers, but was ere long overtaken himself by a man on a spirited horse, a good-looking, well-dressed fellow, who had the appearance of being a sport. He drew rein as he came up with the lawyer, and Mr. Bungle taking a quick survey of him noted on his spotless shirt front a diamond pin in form like this: * * * * * CHAPTER III. DEATH’S-HEAD CAMP, As Bungle looked at the pin worn by the stranger, the latter in turn looked at the one al ™ Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Diamond Dice. 3 dis yed on the lawyer’s red shirt, and their eyer,.acoting immediately after, both smiled. ‘© swear I would not have known you, Bris- tol,” the sport declared, ‘¢ The same can’t be said of you, Mason,” was tle response, ‘But, then, you did not set out tu, slisguise yourself,” No; being a stranger here, it was not neces- sory. But, what did you think of the men? How did Coke, as the Dutch peddler, strike you? And Hardy, as the tinker?” ‘‘Excellent, both of them,” Dick declared. “They are no better, though, than Martin as the bummer and Cooley asa barber, You said they were good at disguises, and I have seen proof of it.’ ‘‘ Well, what’s your name and business?” ‘‘Tam to be known as Eurastus Bungle, and Uma lawyer. Vl hang out my shingle when | get to the camp.” ‘* And my name you know, of course, since my role was outlined before we parted company, I go to Death’s-head Camp as one George White, a sport, better known as ‘ White’ George, owing to my square dealing.” ‘* You are well fixed out for the character, too.” ‘*T‘flatter myself that I have dono well,” ‘*'You have, ‘You bave plenty of money?” ** A load of it, thanks to you,” ‘*Spend it liberally. I bave a further supply for you if you run short, It is a cheap article with me, you know,” ‘1 have beard that you are a millionaire,” “Yes, solam. Isay it not boastfully; mere- ly as a matter of fact. When youcome to know mé you will find that [am not given to bragging and boasting. My wealth is nothing to me, fur- ther than I can make use of it in my work, am the same Deadwood Dick I was when I was oor. mw That is well known, sir. Well, is there any- thing further to be arranged before we part?” ‘*T guess not. We understand tke plans as well as we can, since we shall have to be guided mainly by circumstances as we find them at the camp.” . ** Yes, The diamond dice will beourcue, As often as we find it necessary to change our dis- guises, the display of the pe will reveal our identity to the otbers, and all will understand.” “That is the plan, I take it the distance is about ten miles further. You goon and I will arrive in due time, The others will straggle in one by one, The set of signals agreed upon will enable me to direct your movements. But, par- don me; I forget that I am talking to a vete- ran. “No matter; you are in commaud, Well, good-day, Mr, Bungle.” ‘*Good-day, Mr, White, We part to meet as strangers, as the summer girl says to her latest at the close of the season.” Both laughed, and the sport touched bis horse, and in a few minutes was carried out of sight, while the lawyer plodded on at an easy cauter, seemingly in no particular haste, The Cool Half-Dozen were, on their way to the scene of their dangerous undertaking. Death’s-head Camp was a hard place, It harbored a bard crowd, and among !its citizens were some of the roughest of the rough and tougbest of the tough, Yet there were, witbal, some gocd and worthy persons there, as is the case in almost every place, The good and the bad mingled together, as perforce they had to, but the bad were in the majority. Death’s-Head was a comparatively new camp. It had been established some time as a diggings, but of late it had taken on a boom, Tbere was a new mine in active operation, one that bad recently been fitted out with the best machinery that could be obtained, and which was said to be paying big returns. This mine was called the Sink Hole, ani it was managed by one Milton Armstrong, a part owner iu the concern, The leading hotel at Death’s-head Camp was the ‘* Skull-and-X-bones,” of which one “ Pro- fessor ” Hinckman was proprietor. The professor was a man of learning, or bad been, but one who had lent his talents to the wrong ends. He was past middle age now, and was commonly called ‘* Old Hink,” And the chief saloon—What would be your mining-camp without that monument to ad- vansol civilization ?—was called the ‘‘ Sarcopha- us,” a name that had been bestowed upon it by he professor mentioned, who evidently had a grain of grim humor in bis sctyering ite The citizens had confidence in the professor, and the name was taken up and became,a * ' ee) ag EGO @] Oo <s;Gom