Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 812 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

—_ a | wate ° ne Fal er ~ = - —_— 4 z . sewing girl, dropping her gaze upon her work, ‘* There is some reason, then, why you cannot do so?” ‘‘T have heard about you this morning. The women—lI don’t want to hurt your feelings, I am in en women do rot speak well of you,” ‘* They have heard that you danced in the Sil- ver Saloon last night with the rough men,” ‘* They bave not been misinformed; I did do that.” ‘* Ani yet you say you have never done any- thing to be ashamed of. I would not enter the doors of such a place,” ** And you are right. Neither would I, did I not have business there, anil were I not well rotected. What I witnessed there made my eart sick within me, I cau tell you truly.” ** How am I to believe that?” ‘fT may be able to convince you; indeed, I think I cin.” a) How ty The girl sport leaned forward and said some words in a whisper—words which caused the other to start and stare at her. ** 1s it possible?” she exclaimed, “Yes, both possible and true, Miss Mead- way.” “Then I will trust you, and will tell you what you have asked,” — ‘* Do so, and then, as I said, I may be able to be of service to you— yes, I am sure I can be,” ** Well, the story is short and simple, My father, woen I was a child, wasarich man in Chicago, Suddenly bis wealth was swept away from him, and alm: st immediately on top of that calamity my mother died. I cau just re- member these events,” ** Poor child!” | “Taking me with him, my father wandered away;and together we roamed far and wide, I his only compazion and he my only friend and protector in allthe wide, wide world, We were everything to each other in those days, and, in- deed, till the end came when he left me suddenly in one of his mad spells—for be was out of bis mind, as you say you bave heard.” ‘Yes, I know that, dear.” ‘It was atacamp further west than this, or further north; anyhow, a long way from here, He had been worse than usual, and suddenly he disappeared and I never saw him again until I saw his dead face yesterday.” — . She broke down and wept. ‘*And you are sure thera was no mistake about your recognition, are you?” the gir] sport again urged, ‘Oh, I am very sure on that point. Do you not suppose I would recognize beyond doubt the dearest face in the world to me?” ‘*T cannot doubt it.” ** Well, that is all, then; that is the whole story.” , ‘Tf that is all, then, will you permit me to ask ‘some questions of you?” “Why, yes, certainly; and Ill be only too glad to answer them, for now 1 am sureI may trust you,” **'You need not doubt me, though others may do so, Did you ever bear your father mention any names in any of bis mad musings? That is to say, the names of any persons who had wronged him in the past, or against whom he held a grudge?” ‘* Yes, I heard some names come up when he would sit and brood, but he was never able to tell me a connected story.” ‘Do you remember the names?” ** Yes; the name Pelmont was one that became very familiar to me in that wav,” ‘s ag you never knew who Pelmont was?” oO, ** Well, [am going to make a strange proposi- tion to you, Miss Méadway,” ** And what is that?” *“*T must see this dead face, the face of the rson you are sure was your lost father. See ere, do you recognize this?” The girl sport took a card photograph from her pocket as she spoke, and held it before the girl’s eyes. **Mercy! Jt is my father !” : pe ne this is the same face you saw yester- ay ‘* Yes, yes, yes!” “Then [I am puzzled, utterly, and I must see that face for myself. Wiil you bring it to pass so that I may?” ** How can I doit?” ‘* Very easily. Every man here is your friend, and the mayor would do your slightest bidding. Tell bim you must see the face once , again, to be quite sure of the identity, and have them take it up.” | et P ae Bs 4 (Albee < - f ‘ - “~ : « 7s * “a > lil i rere eaten inet Ee seer wv " <—, te a r) a < > A oS . > { ‘e . - J . : i SIME Mts bi i. Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Head-off. ‘Tt is horrible! I do not know whether I could stand it or not! I will do it, though, though it kill me.” ‘* I would spare you if I could, but I do not see the way. What I want most to do is to take a photograph of that face, to compare it with this photograph at my leisure.” ** Well, well, 1 will do it. I will do it this afternoon,” “Good. 1 will be hrre— No, that will not do, either. I tell you I will be on band at the Cemetery. I do not believe it was your father’s head at all, Miss Mcadway.” CHAPTER IX, THE POET'S QUIET *‘ LAY.” THE fighting poet had in the mean time been conducted to the office of the Rustler, by Editor Sneed, where be was informed more in detail what was required of him «n the steff. ‘* Hirst, be must uphold the honor of Rounda- bout to the best of bis ability, at the sume time disparaging the rival camp cf Rustleville and the contemporary sheet publisued there, Then he must puff up local advertisers, and slip in a ee word here ard there for paying subscri- ers, Toe poet set to work at once, and in a little time bad dashed off enough of his alleged poetry to fill all the available space of the next issue of the paper, and more, And while be was thus engaged, the editor was writing up the events of the previous day, plodding with bis task slowly and laboriously. ‘Well, there you are,” said the poet, when he bad done; *‘ enough to do you for one issue, If any of it won’t do, let me know and I'll put if through the mill again, I desire to please, you know,” The editor had laid down bis pen, and.he glanced over the effusions of his new man. “‘It will do, it will do,” he presently said, ‘} We'll knock them out this time, sure enongh, I’m going to give vou a puff as soon as I get this leader off my hands,” ; “All right, but don’t rubit on too thick, if you please. I’m modest, you know, ard can’t stand it. Afterward, after the paper is out, I mean, if I am killed for my rbymes, please see that ’m laid away under the willow’s shade, “ Oh, give me a chamber about six feet, And four or five feet under ground; ' And stow me away in a bodt-box neat, -Then round up on top a neat mound,” ‘Ves, Pll sea to all that,” the editor prom- ised, laughing. ‘‘ But, little danger that you will come to grief, for the worst men around will respect you after the showing you made last night.” ‘*T hope they will,” ‘Tf youare going out, now, and you shouid get hold of any newsy news, don’t fail to make a report of ir.’ ‘Oh, no, I won’t miss anything of importance, Being on your staff, I’ll do all Ican to make the Rustler rustle, you can bet.” : So, the poet went forth from the sanctum, leaving the editor to the task of finishing his great leader, while the one typesetter of the es- tablishment picked pi. He sauntered idly about the street for a little time, but presently turned his face in the direc- tion of the Choke and bent his steps toward Hustleville. He was going wo see the rival camp. Arriving there, he was recognized by some who had seen him on the previous night, and who now pointed him out to others, and he was an object of much interest. Making his way to the Rocky Gulch House, he entered there. And there the first man he fell in with hap- pened to be Editor Di bby, of the Hustler, ‘*Hello!” that gentleman greeted, ‘* Have you tired already of that miserable place on the other side of the Choke? Have you come over here to get into good society and be somebody ?”’ ‘‘ Well, not exactly that,” was the slow re- sponse. ‘*I have come over to take a look around, that is all,” ** And L don’t believe you'll go back, if you have good taste and know a good place when you se it,” 4 ‘* What is your chief attraction here?” ‘¢ Our chief attraction! Why, sir, are you not aware that the Hustler is published here? Do you not know that we have the only cemetery in the gulch?» What can Roundabout show tocom- pare with these?” Ee SS ee ne ee ee a a ea Te a a a ET BE GT — ‘¢ That’s a poor joke, if you mean it for one.” ‘‘' Yes, I suppose itis, But, 1 am a stranger here, suppose you take me out and show me around a little.” **1’}] do it willingly, Come on.” Mr. Dulsby led the way, and conducted the stranger first to bis cflice, where he told of the merits of his p»per in glowing terms. Then followed a visit to the cemetery, and the guide pointed out the graves ove after another, giving a brief history of each sleeper therein and stating the cause of each one’s demise, With only two exceptions, every one of the '* plants” bad died with his boots on—accounted somewhat of an honor, ‘‘ And where’s the grave of that head?” asked the poet, ‘‘Rigbt overthere, It wasn’t a full size plant, you see, and we made up a mound in proportion in the form of an ant-hil).” ‘* Looks as if he had been planted standing up, and the bole badn’t been quite deep enough, don’t it? Whatdo you think about that case, any- how?” ‘Don’t know what to think sboutit. I’m not going to bother my bead much with it till the detective gets here, Then maybe something will be dove, but I doubt it.” “Think he won't ba equal to the case, eb?” ‘¢ 1 don’t see how he’s going to be, do you?” ‘No; but that don’t signify anything. like you—can't puzzle my brain with it. * Tf it were poetry I'd gt it; As itis, Iam not in it.” ‘You can make up rhymes the easiest of anybody 1 ever heard of. Wish I could do it, I tried to get up a verse or two once about Roundabout, but after working on the thing, for half a day T gave it up.” ‘“ What was it stuck you?” “ Why, I couldn’t find anything to chime ia with Mavor Gadzooks,” ‘“Tg that so? Why, seems to me that ought to be possible, Let’s see if I can hit something off-hand: ‘There is Mayor Gadzooks, He never had spooks. He’s a gentleman right upin G; Though his cordial he takes, He has never seen snakes. An all-around Rustler is he.” ‘Well [I'm darned! Why couldn’t I think of had spooks? Bout, blast it, your stuff is all in favor of Roundabout; 1 wanted somethin’ that would show ’em up bad.” ‘Well, that’s so, I allow,” ‘¢ Tell you what I'll do.” ‘¢ What’s that?” ‘‘You come to my sanctum and, write up a few verses that will make ’em sick over there, and T’ll give you a dollar.” ‘Sir! Think you that you can buy pearls of great price with trifles? That is almost an insult, sir! Would you thus cheapen my talent? By my beard—when it grows! but Ili shake the dust of your camp from my feet—” ‘‘There, there, don’t get roiled: that shows how little I know about poetry. Vl make ita dollar and a half—” ‘¢ Worse and worse! But, sir, you are too late, anvhow, forIam engaged up. n the staff of the Roundabout Rustler, at a salary worthy my hire, so I could not serve you anyhow.” ‘*You are on the Rustler! I thought Sneed laughed at you last night when you tried to engage,” . ‘*He says that was only a bluff to get you out of the way.” ‘‘ Curse him for the double-faced villain he is. Pil tell you what, I'l] pay you just double what he has offered you, if you will come with me,” and 1 don’t care how much it is, either.” ‘* Not now, sir, not now;T sball first have to break off with him honorably. You can see bow it is, Then, anyhow, maybe I'll be hanged at short notice when the paper comes out, if the citizens are not prepared for the poetic gems it has in store for them, ‘Wor I’ve handled some things with a caustic pen, With vinegar and gall for ink; It may take ali right: if it doesn’t, why then, | I shall get a hemp necktie, I think.” . ‘‘ But, say, do me one favor,” ‘* What is that?” ‘Just repeat that what you got off about Gadzooks. I'll twist it somebow to give him one | jab, and Ill pay you for it besides,” . ‘“Impossible, sir. Gems once dropped are gone foraye, You'll have to rake it out of your memory if you want to make use of it, By the Tm ‘Drawing cards, I suppose, though I have | way, I find it is dinner time; do you think they'll never seen them. to the cemetery come to stay, do they not?” , a ee | oe eae ee I suppose all who are drawn , feed me at the hotel here?” ‘¢T neant to ask you to dine with me, butnow ‘ icbo