Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 822 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 mountain valley, or more properly an in- closed gulch better known to the Westerner asa ‘‘ pocket,” surrounded on all sides by towering pine-dotted walls. He was a young man of medium stature but powerful build, clad in the manner of a thoroughbred sport—one of the better kind. About to speak again, he was interrupted by catching the sound of approaching foot- steps further down the trail behind him, and acting upon a sudden impulse, as it seemed, he sprung to cover behind a near-by bowlder. The footsteps drew nearer, and another man soon came out upon the brow of the hill, where he stopped, taking off his hat to the cooler breeze there found, and gazed upon the scene before him as the first had done. ** So, this is Deadwood Dick’s domain, is it?” he spoke aloud. ‘This is the valley pocket that has made him a millionaire!” He stood silent, thoughtful. ‘‘Itisa city in fact,” he presently spoke further. ‘‘ Happy, prosperous—it seems a pity to despoil it; but, that is my intention— ay, that is what I havetaken oath to do!” A. hard, cruel look came upon his face, and his fists were tight clinched. ‘Yes, Deadwood Dick,” he continued, vengefully, ‘‘lam here to work you ill if it is inmy powerto doit. You were the means of sending me to prison once, and I swore then I would get even with you for it. I will bring you to ruin—yes, more than that —L will have your life!” As the last words fell from his lips he shook his fist at the thriving young city in the peaceful pocket below, ‘Yes, I swear it!’ more vengefully still. ‘*Burk Dorris is not the man to forget and forgive, curse you! For every year I spent in that accursed prison your blood shall re- pay! You had a dead-sure thing against me, that I have to admit; but, if it hadn’t been for your hounding me and my men as you did, we would have escaped. Enjoy your- self while you may; my oath is made!’ Replacing his hat, presently, he followed along on the trail, making his way around and down toward the pocket, finally to enter the pretty miniature city he had taken oath to ruin. When he had gone a little way the other man came out from behind the bowlder, a half smile curling his dip. ‘Well, it strikes me that you are pretty brash, stranger!” he muttered, looking after the retreating knave. ‘‘ You have under- taken a rather hefty job, if I know anything about this Deadwood Dick. So, that’s your oath, is it? Well, now I'll register one my- sell: If life and strength are spared me Vl watch you, ind I think you will be the one to come to grief—not Deadwood Dick, Pll ‘let you feel the grip of Soapstone Sam, the Slippery Sport!” | \ CHAPTER ILI. 4 , TROUBLY AT BRISTOL CITY, Brisvou Crry was ina state of unusual ex- citement. A certain portion of the popula- tion had risen in rebellion and refused to pay further tribute to Deadwood Dick. — Deadwood Dick, Jr., was the original pro- prictor of the pocket in which this thriving oung city had sprung up, was owner of the mines, and likewise owner of nearly the whole city besides, He had sold some ground, but received rent for the most of it, - and while the rents were low yet his income in the aggregate was immense, iF _ That some evil influence had been at work was plain enough. Rent day had passed, and payment had been refused, The argu- ment, in brief, was this: That Deadwood Dick had, really, no more right to claim ownership to that valley pock } any other man—not so much, in fact, as had oak who had lent their time and toil in building Hea, é , _— A, 4 ‘ti i \ a eS 7 « S075 | . Sad ‘ a A + \ cA < 7) » 4 fot 7 ket than had the city; the building made the | : Ti “s te iy . 71%, v4 P| + e. s . y J aw, ~s- 1 . d » vt . .' ‘ - » ? x ut ao - .“ o “ q . oy) in . > 4 § - os : re “s " J a i" 7 . afi i 7 er ‘ o an’ i, : J a ‘ os Tf ae, : ‘Zor : ‘a Se fe Oe GR ie LC® Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Boom. city, and the ground ought naturally to be- | long to the owners of the buildings. There are, however, two sides to every question, and this one was no exception to the rule. There could be no question but that Dick Bristol had owned the pocket before the city began to grow, and hence, such portions as he had not sold outright must belong to him still. The buildings had sprung up thick and fast, when the boom was at its hight, and in every instance Dick or his manager had offered the land for sale then and there, in some cases selling and giving a good, solid deed to the purchaser. In other cases long leases had been given, worded as fairly for the tenant as for the proprietor in all re- spects. But, allthat was thrown aside, now, by the rebellious ones, who were not the best class of citizens by any meaus; on tlie contrary, their party was made up of the camp’s worst element. The really solid men of the place were in favor of Dick and his rights. Clyde Carleton, mayor of the city and manager of Deadwood Dick’s affairs, was in a quandary. He had sent word to Dick, but being uncertain of his whereabouts, was not sure that his communication had reached lim. It was out of his power to collect the rents, but he had called the attention of the tenants to the terms of their leases, and had given warning that proceedings would be taken against them. Said Joe Garry, proprietor of the Grand Pacific Hotel: ‘‘This is a dirty way to treat the whitest man that ever lived, and I’m opposed to et. Why, more’n one man in the uprisin’ wouldn’t had no house anyhow if it hadn’t been for the help Deadwood Dick gave ’em. Hangin’ would be too good for ‘em, and when the noble Richard returns he can count on me as one who will fight with him fer his rights,” . Homely as Joe’s expression was, it covered the ground, and that sentiment was held by a good many who had not committed them- selves one way or the other. There was trouble ahead. ‘‘Great currogated cans o’ dynamite de- molishun!” cried Old Avalanche, the irre- pressible. ‘‘If Deadwood Dicky wur only at home now things would be different, you bet! Great hambone o’ harrowin’ horrifica- tions! I do wish he would come, fer he is needed, needed mighty bad.” One thing which had thus far puzzled the mayor, was to find out who was the ring- leader of the uprising, or who had been its instigator. _ ' The new movement was gaining in favor, till it was feared.that only the really sound institutions of the camp would remain true to Dick’s interests. Those who had bought of him were with him, of course, since their own titles depended upon the validity of his. So stood matters at the time of the opening of our story. , -A number of men were gathered in the mayor's office, to include Billy Bucket and Johnny Smile—though they were barely over the border from youthhood; and the topic of conversation was the vexing question of the hour. , “You are right, old man,” Billy Bucket made response to the remark dropped by Old ‘Avalanche. ‘‘If the boss was only here he would pretty quick show somebody some- thin’ sharp, you bet!" “He could find out the ringleader; of that I feel confident,” supplemented Mayor Carle- ton. ‘‘ And that would be a big step in the direction of righting the matter. ere is going to be serious trouble, I am afraid.” “You ar right thar is!” cried Old Ava- lanche. ‘‘Et’s goin’ ter make trouble fer them what’s in et, soon’s Deadwood Dicky gets after ’em. Great conglomerated old hambone, I’m dyin’ to see him come home! But, he ain’t here, ‘4nd we fort till he comes,” } must hold ther + oy" ; Late ) £ . “4 ' b> AA } Ae 6 ay een Bal 4, ? x ae ee ait i pis ata Suse Sogganee fh — Pe tnd tei a RRS - we. yy > ‘ : ’ - . ¢ ar «4 . 1 le ; wee, a: IPR Cte ' t is OAM dae ‘> “4 vo Wt Tt fa Hafony Lae > i i wee Ce —_——— | name, and ran as follows: | ° vy y \ 7 ae! Yi tie t Gel, we 4 bd ae yb P : ine Cy ene Pe va : Shel eh ye) hime ih ‘«Pards, I have somethin’ to say,” spoke | Joe Garry, then. 6)?? ‘What is et?’ demanded Avalanche. ‘‘ Anything ter my discredit? ‘Cause ef it is, by ther great’ symposiumate old hambone what made soup fer Jupe, et’s a lie!” ‘No, nothing about you, old man,” Joe declared. ‘‘It would be a hard matter to say any good about a rank old sinner like you. But, you all know that sport who is stopping at my hotel, of course.”’ ‘“Soapstone Sam, you mean?” “Ther same.” ‘Yes, we know him; what about him? What has he been doin’?” ‘* Well, do ye know, [have a sort 0’ sneak- in’ suspicion that he has got a band in this business somewheres.”’ ‘‘Sho! You don’t mean et, do ye? Great hambone of ther anterdeluminated days o’ famine in ther land o° Goshen! I took him ter be a real white sport, through and through.” ‘So he may be, but I begin to doubt him,” Joe rejoined. ‘‘He seems to he making friends with some of the worst of the kick- ers,” ‘* Still, there may be nothing in that!” re- minded the mayor. ‘‘He is free to make friends with whom he will, and we have to recognize his rights.” “Oh, certainly, that’s all right,’ agreed Joe. ‘‘Ilonly broughtit up so that he could be watched a little, you know.” ‘‘ But, he hasn’t been here long,” said one man. : ‘“Only a couple of days, that’s true.” “And there’s other strangers here in town,” said another. ‘‘ Why not suspect them all? My opinion is, that the ringleader is right here in the camp, a regular citi- zen,” ‘*T am inclined to think that way myself,” agreed the mayor, ‘‘Lor’ Jerusha! et don’t make no difference who he is,” cried Avalanche, ‘‘ we must try ee hold ther thing in check till Dicky gets 1yer.” ' Barely had the old scout spoken when a startling thing happened. Something flashed in the light, and a thud was heard like that of a bullet burying itself into a solid timber. All looked at one another inquiringly,. ‘What was that?’ asked Carleton. ‘‘Hambone! I. don’t know,” cried Ava- lanche. ) ‘Tt made me wink, anyhow,” declared Johnny Smile. “Hal” cried Billy Bucket, who had been — looking eagerly about, ‘‘ here it is.” _ All looked where he pointed, and there in ‘the floor just behind them stood a huge dag- ger, still quivering with the vibrations its sudden stop had imparted. It was buried an inch or more in the solid board, and must have been hurled with great force. REN Whence had it come? - No one could answer the question, or even make a reasonable guess. | Around the handle of the weapon was a piece of paper, securely bound in place there with a stout string. | ‘A communication of some sort, per- haps,” remarked the mayor, as he stepped | forward and plucked the knife from the floor. ‘I have heard of such things happen- Be 2 ing before.” | em ‘““That’s what et must be, by ther great condenserfied old hambone of ther dark periods o’ disastrous halucernashuns!” cried ye Avalanche. ‘‘ Mebby et’s a letter from — ther wood Dicky off his ground, or somethin’ of that, sort.” . ET ant war ga ts wk ORE oe Carleton was eagerly removing the string, and as soon as that was done he unfolded _ he a | the paper and read it out aloud. | It was ad- dressed to Deadwood Dick by his proper ' | | : ; ¢ ' ‘= . ry. 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