Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 88 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

* swell, Every rong p fession, which he had followed during his trip through the American continent. He now picked up the paper, and bringing it where the moonlight could play upon it, discovered that it contained the impression, in blackink, of a skull and cross-bones, and also a black belt or band. Inside this band were the three letters, ‘‘ 7’. of B./ “Well, I'll be shot if there isn’t something queer here!’ Phil muttered. ‘“‘I don’t believe there is a drug-store in the place that owns so peculiar a label, Probably it is the sign or password of some secret os oe mi that has its existence here. But how did it come here? The girl may or may not have . 7 a) te it—probably not. Let me see: what does . 0 B, stand for?—Tim of Ballwhack—Temple of Bacchus—hello! Now, that I come to think, there is a place up the gulch here which bears that same name. I wonder if this applies to it in any way?”’ As he gave vent to these mutterings, he wandered along up the street, and soon paused in front of a small shanty better finished than its neighbors, and over the door was painted in dull letters: “TremMPLE OF Baccuus.”’ It was not an inviting-looking place, for the win- dows were of red stained glass and the doors closed. * Phew!”’ Photograph Phil muttered, as he stood still and gazed about him. “I’ve a mind to tackle that wigs If it’s nothing more than a saloon, all right—or if it’s something else, all right. Haven't I got the pap rs and sufficient brass to get out? It want ne my first little scrape—that’s one consola- on. Watching an opportunity, when some one had partly opened the door for the urpose of ring out, he advanced swiftly and pushed the door further open and stepped inside. CHAPTER IT. THE STRANGE INITIATION, * THER coolest cuss in ther mines!” The exclamation came from a brawny, fat-legged individual, of rough appearance, who stood leanin against the bar of the “ Distillery,’ one of the mos popular resorts in Cascade City. He was surround- ed by a knot of men 4f similar appearance, whose blue or red shirts and long, bristling beards proclaim- ed them to be miners. “Yes, sir-ee! thet same galoot aire ther coolest cuss in the mines!”’ the first speaker averred, as if to raake the a gala strike more forcibly upon his audience. “If I war a good Samaritian, w’ich I ain't, I'd like ter see thet Sport git rich an’ married *Pshaw! guess ye don’t know his calibre, do ye?” grunted Mattice, the barkeeper, as he mopped off he counter with a filthy rag. ‘*‘That Rosebud Rob hed there ch’ice 0° one o’ ther purtiest gals ye evyer sot eyes on, when ther 'citementfust broke out hayr, an’ he wouldn’t take it, hang me if he would,” ‘Ye don’t mean ter say et, thet ther Poa yonder, wi’ a rosebud in his buttonhole, refused ter jine in double harness wi’ a pretty petticoater?”’ ‘** He jest did that same.” ““Cuss him! He ought ter be shot!” and the miner emphasized his views by pounding the counter smartly with his fist, which was a huge mass of bone and flesh. ‘‘ Whar’s ther pilgrim as wants ter mar- ry me off ter a good-loo femenine—oh, whar is he, ther brute?” ; The center object of the foregoing conversation now came forward from the inner room, where he had been watching the dancers, of whom there were some two score upon the floor, of both sexes. Rosebud Rob, the Spotter Sport, He needs no reintroduction to the Half-Dime read- ers, to whom he has made former appearances, he same coodly pandpome Ppor ome ot with his elegant make-up, rivaling of a Broadway - BS wore was the best of its fine, otter Sport’s photograph, x, gents!”’ he saluted, as he w. “I presume you are enjoy- and you had the ‘““Ah! good-eve sauntered up, witha ing yourself, this evening?” ‘Waal, who said contrary?” the big miner grunt- ed. ‘* Who'd I heer mention fight?” ; ‘It might have been me!’ Rosebud Rob replied, with asmile. ‘Somehow fighting material is rather scarce, to-night, and bravado is below par.” He then sauntered on into the gambling-saloon, where all kinds of games were running in full blast. as himself at the table just vacated bya couple of miners, he lit a cigar, and waiciied those around him, sharply. There were men in the room whom he suspect ed belonged to the famous Joaquin, Jr.’s, band, but by no action did they reveal anything to warrant his suspicion. Baltimore Bess came in, after a while, and occu- pied a chair opposite the Sport. She was looking very prow. in her semi-feminine hunting costume with the hat set jauntily upon he: flowing hair, ai se boots reaching to her knees. ‘here was @ healthful flush upon her cheeks, and a fascinating expression to her eyes, which ever caused the Sport to regard her with admiration; and sometimes he pondered, and wondered why it was she had come out into the’ mines in the guise of a dare-devil, when she was fitted for a higher station in life. Yor he had lo since found that her language was but simulated, for when she chose she usot as good Webster as any ordinary mortal. “Well,” she said, interrogatively, *‘what is the news?” ; ‘None to speak of,” Rob replied, with a yawn. "ly o3 are cetting monotonous here,” 9 “lev are. Did you see the photographer who Brcfveal hots esening?” j i0 few 9 , WJ at ay LPru.«) = ISTANCEY. TT TT TTT LL ——S=————=sssesssnssnse | | Photograph Puil. eee 3 ‘He is a brick. Can talk more in less time than a dozen phonographs.”’ ¥ Getting that pretty steep, are you not, Bess, “No, not a bit. But, something else fetched me here, Mr. Mapleton. What do you think about the Temple of Bacchus down here in the gulch?” ‘* The temple of what?”’ * The Temple of Bacchus.” ‘“*ITam sure I don’t know. Whatis there peculiar about the place?”’ ** Well, just cast your eye at it when you pass next time. Itis kept under lock and key, and no one is ever seen to enter or leave it.”’ ‘*Umph! that is strange. I'll remember your sug- gestion, Bess,’ as the girl dare-devil arose to go. Let us return to Photograph Phil, whom we left after he had pushed the door open and stepped in- side the Temple of Bacchus, He found himself in a little vestibule, dimly light- ed by a sputtering candle, and confronted by a paeased man, who held in his hand a cocked re- volver, The door was instantly slammed shut; and Phil was alone with his savage-looking confronter. ‘** Hist! no noise!’’ the masked man ordered, pip: omnonily. ‘* What brings you here, B oor man?" ‘*What is that your business?’ Phil demanded. ‘** Don’t | belong to this hayr lodge?”’ ** Let’s see your slip, then!’’ was the gruff com- mand, for the man evidently disbelieved this parry. Not a little doubtful as to the result, Phil produced the paper he had found in front of the theater, and handed it over. After scrutinizing it a moment the guard returned it, with a grim ‘“ humph.”’ ** Pass on!’’ he said; ‘‘ I guess it’s all right. You'd better never try the front door again, however.” Phil nodded, and passed on down a dusky hall along the walls of which were racks containing all sorts of masks, and hooded black cloaks. ‘If Lain’t in a scrape this time, you can sell me out for a cent!’’ he muttered, dubiously, as he paus- ed before a rack containing a large black gown and mask, “I’ve got to make a debut of some kind, and I calculate I. might as well collar one of the turn- outs. Was ever man in such a fix before?’’ Not without considerable uneasiness he managed to envelope himself in the huge gown, and affixed the mask to his face, after drawing the hood over his head, As he viewed himself in a mirror near at hand, he was startled at his own appearance. No spook in black ever looked more frightful than he. The next act was to enter the door to the main apartment of the building, which he did, his teeth set, and his mind fully made up that he would see the elephant after m g this lunge into the mys- teries, or burst. As he entered the apartment, he glanced nervous- ly around him, There was much to surprise him. The room was large, and was both plastered, pa- pered, and carpeted. Long benches were scattered here and there about common deal tables. Upon these benches, figures ayaeped the same as Phil himself, were engaged in playing cards, under the dim light of lamp chandeliers, which pended from the ceiling. Further in the middle of the room was a large platform dais, well carpeted and ornamented by a ravossteg stool, upon which sat another grim mask- ed figure, A strange, sibilant hiss seemed to emanate from this pol as Photograpb Phil entered, and mechani- cally each and every figure arose, and a double score of accusing fingers were pointed at the intruder. * Consarn their pictures!’’ Phil muttered, under his breath, ‘“‘what do they mean’ Reckon I've stumbled upon a lot of mummies, like Rip Van Winkle, in the play. Wonder what a fellow’s to do, anyhow. Guess I'll waltz for’a’d, and kneel before the old shellbark on the turn-table stool, and see what he’s got to say for himself.”’ Vaguely wondering what the result would be, Phil summoned up his courage, and marched boldly for- ward and dropped upon one knee before the dais, then arose and stood with folded arms before the unknown master of these strange beings and sur- roundings, words, ina deep, hoarse tone of voice. ‘* What news for thy brethren bringest thou?’ None, chief!’ Photograph Phil replied, in a dis- guised voice. “The information for which I sought was not to be had.”’ ‘Why address me as ‘chief,’ sir private? every time, and if you want anything of me, jest spe out!” A stronger hiss came from the mysterious crowd, followed by a groan. **Oh! you needn’t hiss and groan, as if you had swallowed an overdose of goose and mince pie!”’ Phil continued, seeing that no one offered to ~ ie 6 the point with him. ‘* You can’t scare me worth a cent. I’m proof against sech foolery. If you're blacklegs, say so, and I shall be most happy to take your photographs.” “Thou art a stranger, whose wit hath led thee to penetrate into the Infernal Forty tribunal,” the fig- ure upon the thronespoke. ‘ Therefore, unless thou taketh oath as a brother, thou art a dead man. We _are just forty favored sons of the devil, all on to one end—forty, just—no more. If a man is mitted, he is put through the initiation, and we mark him, He then draws lots with such a man of the band as a yee Leng name, and if he wins he lives, a ledged member of the Black Band, who are doomed orever to labor for the God of Gold, under the earth, while the other member dies, and vice versa/”’ Phil nodded grimly. ‘*Go on,” he said, coolly. “Thou, the intruder, hast the choice of two chances. Either thou art to subject thyself to in- stant death, or submit to the terrible initiations of our Infernal Brotherhood. Which will you have? Will you be a servant unto the God of the Christian or a Slave of me, the great Diable?”’ Photograph Phil gave vent to a speculative whis- tle, and was somewhat alarmed at his position. This was a little the tightest fix he remiembered of ever —— ee having been in. He had the choice—of death, or of joining what he had already decided was a band of robbers and ruffians! He had little doubt but that they would kill him, should he refuse to join. And would not the joining of so infamous and mysterious an order be nearly as bad? Besides, he should then have to draw lots with a fellow-mortal for life or death, He took some time to turn the matter overin his ae before he made, any reply to the chief's ques- ons. Altogether it was a terrible scrape, and he wished himself well out of it, But it was like wishing for the world to come toan end. Death by the pistol, or a living death, literally stared him in the face. He had the choice of two evils, as it were. The first-named, he at once decided, would be the one not to accept. Better to join the band, as he would have still another chance for life, and, if he won, it would be easy to oe These were the thoughts which flitted through his mind, to be inter- rupted by the coarse, unnatural voice of the masked chief, Diablo. ‘Come! time is up; make your choice without any more hesitation!’’ he cried. “You will accept— which?” *T will join your band!’ Photograph Phil replied, deliberately. ‘*‘AsI don’t care about bein’ put in sey the ground for awhile yet, it seems my only urn.”’ “Thou hast chosen wisely!’’ Diablo said, with a horrible chuckle. “The devil rejoiceth when he catches a fish like you.” ' = ™ a sucker like yourself,’’ Phil retorted, with a augh. But a strange, sibilant hiss from the band seemed to indicate that they did not relish the point of the joke; but the chief chuckled audibly, his burning _ eyes fastened upon the Boy Sleuth in a gaze that was ' j | | | thou not recognize the difference between me and | thy high-commander, Diablo?” Ay, [readily perceived the difference, your honor, but chose to ca in the place of the great Diablo!” anythin but pleasant. | “ Brethren of the Infernal Forty,”’ he said to the band, “thou beholdest here a new candidate for po- sition in thy ranks. You all know the rules of our devilish and unprincipled order—where a new applicant is sent in, either the applicant or one from your midst, must die. An election is held to see who shall be the man to draw straws with the new candidate, Such an election will now be held. First, however, let the new candidate be disarmed, and his feet bound, until he is ready for initiation,” Several of the outlaws advanced upon Photograph Phil, who threw up his arms and allowed them to go through his clothing, but they failed to find weapons of any sort. He was seated upon one of the benches, and his feet securely bound, so that he could not walk. When this was accomplished, the | chief, Diablo, descended from his throne, if such the “Ha! thou art punctual, Cross-Bones!"’ came the | dais might be called, carrying in his hand a box. “Let every man get ready to cast his vote!’ he ordered. “ Every man shall write upon a piece of paper the name of the man that is, in his opinion, the best prepared to die, and drop the vote into the - box. The name receiving the most votes shall be ost | the man to draw straws with the new candidate.” A strange, unnatural silence prevailed in the room. h man received a blank slip of paper from | Diablo, and betook himself to a different part of the you chief, because thou art acting | At this juncture, Photograph Phil became sud- | denly aware that he had made a great blunder, for there was an instant hiss from the masked gamblers, and a series of revolver clicks! and the young ad- | venturer had but to glance around to find that a score of six-shooters were leveled at his head. While the figure upon the whirling stool eo rough | stood upon his feet, stern and grim, in his uncout robe and mask. ‘‘Tmpostor!” he hissed, fiercelv, “we trapped for youand caught you. J am Diabio, and you are not the spy, Cross-Bones, whom we seni out from our | midst.’’ room, wherein to write out some fellow-mortal’s death-warrant. Photograph Phil sat looking on, wondering what the issue would be. It was all a new phase of crime, although he had been familiar with the different orders of crime and criminals, ever since, when his father, (since dead,) had used him as a ferret to get ' ‘Well, supposin’ I ain’t? What are you going to | do about it, anyhow?” Phil demanded, tearing off his mask. ‘ “My autographical signature is Photograph Phil, into holes and dens, where older men could not obtain access, especially detectives. Each man, in the thirty-nine voters, seemed to wish their next neighbor to remain in ignorance as to whom they cast their vote for, and accordingly they separated, to write their death-message. The chief Diablo seated himself at one of the tabl with the box before him, and when the mask brethren had written their votes, they passed by the tulle in single file and dropped them into the box, retiring thereafter to a respectful distance, where they awaited, while Diablo counted the votes. GOmicbdooks (E(0)