Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 823 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

Poker Jack, the Detective Sport; The Protege of Pilgrims’ Bar A Romance of Silent Saul, the Young Mountain Patrol. BY OLL COOMES, CHAPTER I. EXCITEMENT IN PILGRIMS’ BAR, PILGRims’ BAR was thrilled to its center, A young girl had ridden into the place that day and asked for protection. ad the Angel Gabriel appeared to announce the end of time, the citizens could not have been more surprised, for she was the first woman to set foot in Pilgrims’ Bar—the first that many of the miners had seen in years; and her coming there alone, the angelic beauty of her face, the girlish simplicity of her bearing, all conspired to fill their excited minds with the belief that she was a divine visitant, notwithstanding the | emphatic assertion of Old Mahomet, an odd and eccentric character of the camp, that the Lord would not permit an angel to appear among such wicked men. They soon discovered, however, that she was a creature of flesh and blood, then their wonder became confusion dire, Years of seclusion from female society—of the roughest life and associations, had almost de- prived them of their mother tongue, and now, when unexpectedly called upon by the gentle little lady, they stood, almost dumb, for the lack of words to address her. Joshua Bloom, the mayor of the camp, a stal- wart and bearded man of forty years, was, by virtue of his official standing, delegated to meet the girl; so, brushing back his long {hair, and, doffing his slouched hat, as the beautiful stran- ger drew rein before him, he said: ‘Hullo! how do ye do, miss? Ben’t you losts” In a low voice, her white lips tremulous with fear, she replied: ‘Oh, stranger! I know not where I am, but, I pray God I may have found a camp where I can have protection from my enemies! “You can bet your dust every man in the gulch would die fer you, miss,” replied the mayor. ‘Thank you!” the girl answered, a little con- fused by the man’s compliment, that look of fear and uncertainty vanisbing from her eyes, and that tremor from her voice. “‘I reckon,” the official observed, ‘‘as what you’ve struck the wrong lead, eh?” ‘Sir? I did not understand?” ‘*T presume your lost?” ** No, sir,” the girl replied; ‘‘I cannot say now that lam; but ob! I am so tired and distressed, that I cannot tell you why I am here at present, if you will please excuse me!” *To be sure I will!” exclaimed Bloom, “ Just fly down here, and [ll take ye to the best she- bang in camp where yo shall have food and rest, or my name ar’n’t Josh Bloom,” The mayor assisted the girl to dismount, and having called a miner to take care of the horse, be conducted ber to his own cabin, which she was informed would be. her own as long as she was a guest of Pilgrims’ Bar. After she bad been refreshed, and made as comfortable as sible, the mayor left her and hastened to the ** City Hall,” Pilgrims’ Bar was a placer camp in the ‘‘ Gold Belt’? of Southwestern Utah, It was located in a deep gulch in a spur of the Sierra Madre Mountains, and on’the banks of a little stream that went gliding down over golden sands to mingle with the waters of the Virgin River. It was somewhat remote from other camps, and some fifty miles from the nearest Mormon set- tlement. But despite its seclusion, and the smaliness of its population, it affected the airs of more pretentious camps. There were not over two-score men in the camp. The ** City Hall” was headquarters. It was kept by a man called ‘*‘Swanzy.” It was a gen- er | nag ae store for the camp—it was a saloon and gambling-place as well. Alongside the ‘‘ City Hall” was the ‘‘ Soup Shop.” This was a boarding-house kept by two negroes bearing the euphonious names of ** Alli- gator ’’Sam and “ Catfish ” Joe. As Mayor Bloom approached the City Hall, after leaving the girl, he was met by a man whose face was all aglow with smiles. He was haps five-and-fifty years of age, of medium vight and build, His face was covered with a oe a | locks of grizzly gray hair. He had a pair of | Steel-gray eyes,in one of which there was a | squint, corners stained with the juice of tobacco. He was dressed in a miner’s suit with the exception of his hat, which was a brokeu and battered gray OF hanging carelessly on the back o) his head, the Puzzle, the Bum, the Pilgrim, and divers other nicknames, He was the genius of the camp. He was odd, eccentric and jolly. He had a great aversion to physical labcr, but loved to stroll alone in the hills, usually prefer- lS an He was an inveterate gambler, and was never known to refuse a drink of whizky. | Until he came to Pilgrims’ Bar, nine months previous, not a soulhad ever heard of ocr seen Old Mahomet. The history he gave of himself was accepted as true, due allowances beipvg made for reckless self-contradiciions, and his perversion of facts and figures to suit his story. Because of dis jolly, genial spirit, his whims and eccentricities, he was accepted into full fel- lowship by the miners, who soon discovered that he was a deep, shrewd man, ‘* Wal, May’r Bloom,” the, old man said, as the two met, ‘‘ my predictions have gone wrong wonc’t, and an angel Aas swooped down upon us and found the camp in dirt and sin.” ‘*Set a good ’zampie, Mahomet, by goin’ forthwith and takin’ a bath,” responded Bloom, facetiously, ** Tl war moved by inspiration to take a‘dip in & mountain pool yisterday, may’r,” Mahomet replied; ‘‘but say, Bloom, did ye find out who that galis, and whar she come from?” _**She was so tired and flighty-like that I didn’t stop to ax any questions. When she’s rested [ll interview her.” “Say, may’r,” observed Old Mahomet, ‘** wouldn’t I makéa fine cum’it’y to call on the angel and talk ’ith her? You never heard me warble to a woman, did ye? Oh! ma hrunette on rockers when it comes to that! I used to be a hull jewel-shop ’mongst the ladies, but I'd got a little rusty the past few years; but since she come, my old memory’s been fillin’ up like a guide to courtship on fine words an’ sayin’s,” ** Then [ll take ye long when I go to inter- view her,” decided Bloom; ‘‘ but I’ve a proclama- tion to issue fu’st. Come into the hall.” The two entered the building, a long, roomy log structure, in which most of the camp had assembled to discuss the great sensation of the hour. Mayor Bloom mounted an empty whisky barrel, and in a sharp, business tone shouted: ‘* Men o’ Pilgrims’ Bar, you'll please close the gaps in yer faces and come to order.” deep and respectful silence followed. - ‘* Friends and citizens,” the mayor went on, ‘* we have somethin’ to do. As you all know, one o’ the Lord’s purest and prettiest of angels has come amongst us askin’ our protection from —I know not-what, I feel that her comin’ isan omen 0’ good-Inck to us; but, be it good or bad, it is our duty to pertect her till purgatory is a solid cake o’ crystalice. And furthermore, we don’t want her to think that she’s in the lair o’a gang o’ wild animals, ora band of water probibi- tionists; therefore, by virtue of the power vested in'me as mayor o’ thiscamp, I do hereby issue the follerin’ verbal proclamation—to wit, namely: ‘Every man shall perceed at once and forth- with to wash bisself, dress up his beard, comb his ha’r, sand-stone the tobacco-drip off’n his shirt-front, take his pants outen his boot-tops, see that both suspenders are in workin’ order— if he wears such things at all—and remove the mournin’ from his hands and nails that some o’ ye press, bene from Arizony, nine months | ago. any rooster 0’ you appears before the Protege o’ Pilgrims’ Bar without haVin’ fu’st complied with the orders hereunto set forth in this proclamation, he shall be subject to a heavy fine, or forever furbidden to speak to the al, or both, and be drummed out o’ camp to Fock: Do ye hear, men o’ Pilgrims’ Bar?” An affirmative shout almost raised the roof on the ‘‘ City Hall.” ‘*Then git thar!” commanded the official, “and in ae hours report here for inspec- tion,” An amusing activity followed the mayor’s or- ders, The miners p ed en masse to the creek and made a most thorough ablution. In the absence of soap, the free use of sandy clay answered the purpose admirably. "Gator Sam, one of the boarding - house,| miner. darkies, the possessor of the only razor in the camp, and which he had always carried as a weapon of defense, with an eye to business, at |! deep anxiety upon ' toilet, so to speak, all were This individual was known as Old Mahomet, | ring the shadows of night to the light of day. | ' moved from Silent Saul, the Young Mountain Patrol. | short, stubby beard, and his head with thin | is mouth was slightly askew and its | once announced that he would do shaving and hair-dressing at a quarter ounce of dust ** per rooster,” and “uring the entire two hours he drove a thriving business, assisted by his part- ner, Catfish Jce, Finally, when the miners had made their ‘“roun: ed up” ‘n the saloon for inspection, by the mayor, who “ad, himself, trimmed his beard, combed his sir and put on a clean shirt. A roar of laughter burst from Bloom’s I'ps as 456 gazed upon the metamorphosed faces around him. Every man had done his best, and some so well that they were almost entire strangers tohim. The latter were those who had been shaved clean, and had theirshair cut, and in nore than one case the change was so complete that the mayor facetiously begged an introduc- tion. Old Mahomet came up smiling with his thin Jocks combed smooth, the tobacco-stains re- his broad bearded chin, his clothes well *‘ sand-scoured,” and his hat raised toits full hight, padded out, and sitting square- ly on his head, ‘* A real, good-lookin’ set o’ kiyotes,” the mayor declared, approvingly, ‘‘and while this ere little affair has made someo’ ye strangers to each other, and removed ail di-doubts as to your belonging to the Caucasian race, I hope it’s the beginnin’ o’ a new era in the history Pilgrims’ Bar. ‘*Men, for twenty years I’ve been a miner, and my heart bad grown calloused. All the gentler incidents o’ my earlier life war blotted from my mem’ry, so it seemed; but the instant that gal’s little warm hand touched mine it sent a thrill through my whole being, and in- stantly the past loomed up beforeme, I caught the glimpre of a dear old face—the face o’ my mother long in her grave—of a kind, gentle sis- ter, now—God only knows where! Ever since, leasant things and dear faces have been pass- in’ before me—things and faces 0’ my younger days, and I begin to feel like another man—a better man, And now, men!” and the stalwart mayor pitched his voice in a higher vor at the same time brandishing a revolver above his head, ‘‘ I want you to remember that the fu’st son of a mother o’ ye that offers that gal an in- sult, by deed or thought, I will shoot—” He did not finish the sentence, for at this mo- meént the clatter of borses’ hoofs sweeping down the street, mingled with a wild, piercing scream—the scream of a woman—assailed the ears of the miners, and sent a sickening chill to their very hearts! CHAPTER II, SILENT SAUL. For a moment the miners stood staring from one to the other as if their bodies had been par- alyzed; but it wasfor a moment only. Witha bound like that of a deer, Old Mahomet rushed from the saloon. He was closely followed by Bloom, who in turn was followed by all the miners, **My Lord!” cried Old Mahomet, ‘‘a devil has got our angel!” A horseman was flying down the gulch, and in his arms he held the stru eglivg form of the Pro- tege of Pilgrims’ Bar. With the exception of the hat on his head he was dressed as an Indian. ‘‘ Halt! halt!’ shouted Bloom at the top of his lungs, as he rushed down the road; but the vii- lain was already beyond pistol-range, and, cog- nizant of the fact, he glanced back over his shoulder at the excited miners, and uttered a fierce, defiant yell. But it was bis last, for it blended with the sharp report of a rifle, and he leaped almost out of hissaddle. His horse came to a sudden stop, the gir] slipped from his arms. and fell motionless to the ground, while he, swaying to and fro for a moment or two, finally pitched forward and dropped heavily to the earth. ‘Gods! but wasn’t that a juicy shot?” ex- claimed Mahorfiet, as he and Bloom hastened to the assistance of the maiden. ‘‘ But I’m afraid it’s killed the gal, too,” re- plied the mayor. . ‘¢ Better she be dead’n in that devil’s clutches!” declared Old. Mabomet; ‘‘ but, who fired the shot?” ‘There comes the man,” responded Bloom, inting to a figure that had emerged from the bushes at the side of the gulch and was advanc- ing, rifle in band. * By the royal Jacobins! it’s Silent Saul, the Young Mountain Patrol,” declared the old With hasty foomercye the approached them, a look of his face—an eag‘r light And so it was. young mountaineer a cS Imicbook