Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 891 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

ee ee | a 12 Ben. ‘*Wull, we’ll soon know, anyhow.” The fellow came on, and he was recog- nized as a level-headed citizen who was not given to seving either snakes or ghosts. He was known as Peg McGrath. ‘What's ther matter, Peg?” the mayor demanded as he came up. ‘* Murder!” the fellow panted. ,; “* Murder?” **¥ea,” “* Who?” i ‘* Barth Dimund, and he’s—” j “* Good heavens!” ejaculated,Joel Hicks, ‘ The others looked at him and found that ' he was pale to the lips. “Tell us what you know about this, my man,” said Deadwood Dick, “‘ There is a ‘ good deal too much mystery around here.” | ‘* Yes, soon's I git my wind,” | The fellow panted fora few minutes, while Joe! Hicks rambled in an aimless way, won- dering who could have done the deed, and so ou. ‘* Now, I'll onwind,” said McGrath, hav- ing got his breath under control again, ‘I was goin’ down to Nuggetville, takin’ ther | left side of ther gulch so’s to be in ther shade an’ thar [ kem onto his body.” i ‘* Shot?” asked the mayor. ‘““No, knifed. Ther body is thar in a clump o’ bushes, with ther feet stickin’ out 4 jest enough to beseen, an’ he's got somethin’ red gripped in his hand—somethin’ like a bit \ o’ red rag.” ‘* Let's Dead wood Dick. ‘‘ Come on," said Marshal Mackerel. , - ‘* An’ you come too, seein’ that you want- ed ter find Barth Dimund so mighty bad,” j cried Big-foot Ben, speaking to Joel Hicks. : ‘* Mebbe you was the last galoot seen him ‘i alive. The mayor and the others looked hard at this fellow, and he appeared ill at ease. ‘“What good’ll it do to see him, if he’s dead?” the man asked. ‘‘ What did you want to see him for, any- ; how ?” demanded Deadwood Dick. ~ ‘*T had business with him.” | ‘‘And what was that business?” | : ‘**T don't know as [ need to tell you, sir.” 4, ‘“‘You may find it for the good of your id health to tell somebody, before this matter is cleared up.” | ‘‘ Would you insinuate, sir, that I kaow anything about the death of this man?’ and the stranger bristled up in a defiant manner, ‘* No, say nothing of the kind, but I think the city marshal here will keep an eye upon you ti! we do know something more definite about it,” was the rejoinder. ‘That's what’s ther matter,” cried Big- foot Ben, ‘‘Mebby he ain’t been runnin’ ?round hyer all ther mornin’ ’quirin’ fer Barth Dimund fer nothin’, Mebby he wanted to ward off s’picion in that manner, b’gosh!” ‘‘You will go with us, sir,” said the mayor, grimly. And so they set out. | Peg McGrath led the way, and in due time they came to the spot where Dimund lay cold in death. Deadwood Dick parted the bushes and looked in, and saw the body lying partly on one side, the right hand clutching tightly a piece of red cloth. | Entering, Dick pulled this from the dead man’s grasp. It proved to be a piece of red flannel, and . with a satisfied ejaculation to himself the de tective put it in his pocket. | ‘What hev’ you found?” asked Marshal ‘a Mackerel. | ‘“ Maybe a clue,” the answer, 1 | eee ‘That bit of rag?” | ) § Sco ce Yes.” ‘*Men of Rosy Posy,” cried Joel Hicks, fairly trembling, ‘‘I swear to you that I oe — ~ = ~ a % . ¥ = ee See fp > * a Sai ne ee ~~ — c ey ee =. ; = _—— ‘ ww aunaie ON I ene rr a ta ee ae eh ee AE ie! LL CA TT Ae a» ‘‘Tll send some men to carry it in,” said o right down there,” suggested a ——_ ay , beta tH s . * oe ye * “y 3 * F Fe, = * - = Reece ae 4 se <> ‘4 Jak, if i “ = EDeadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dead-Sure Game. _ ‘By ther look of his face, I'd say he’s | didn't do this deed. If you have found a had a sight of a ghost,” declared Big-foot | clue, sir,” to Dick, “I beg of you run it to the end and prove me innocent.”’ ‘Tt remains to be seen whether you are innocent or not,” was the grim answer. “Shall I put him under arrest?” asked the mayor. ‘‘T would, b’gosh!” cried Big-foot Ben. “Thar is s'picion enough hangin’ tu him, I think.” The mayor had asked Dick, but Dick was willing to let matters take their own course, and if the man was arrested there would be no harm done anyhow. Dick did not believe him guilty of this crime, at any rate. The clue pointed elsewhere, It was found that the deed had been done with a bowie, and it was quite likely that the body had been thrown into the bushes afterward, : This, theory was supported dy the fact that tbe bushes were broken, while no marks of any trampling were to be seen on the | ground where the body lay. And the knife, that was not discovered. ‘What will you do with the body?” Dick asked, 7 the mayor. ‘* And Ill see to lockin’ this cuss in ther calaboose,” declared Big-foot Ben, with a tight grip on his prisoner, Thus they returned to Rosy Posy, and the news having spread by this time, the street was thronged with an excited crowd eager to learn more about the mysterious matter. At sight of a prisoner they set up a shout. ‘He is ther cuss what done et?” cried one man. ‘* Ef he is, he’s our mutton!” ‘‘T have a notion he is, boys,’’ declared Big-foot, ‘‘but that ain’t provin’ et, of | course, But, we'll see,” ‘Ef he did, et will be a bandy rope he’ll be gettin’, on me soul,” cried an Irish deni- zen of the thriving camp. ‘‘ We haven’t had a daycint hangin’ in a dog’s age, begorra!” ‘* You'll lock him in the calaboose, that’s what you'll do,” ordered the mayor, ‘‘ and keep him there till you hear further.” ‘‘Dhat settles it, begob.” - . ‘‘But, I swear to you that I am innocent,” cried the prisoner. ‘* Give me a fair chance to prove it, whatever you do.” ‘You'll have that, at any rate,” assured Deadwood Dick. , ‘‘But, hello! what’s this?” suddenly cried Big-fvot. All eyes were turned his way, the few that had not been before, and he was seen to jerk the bushy hair and beard from the man’s head and face, The prisoner stood forth a different-looking man entirely. His hair was cropped close, and he had only a stubble of a few days’ growth upon his face, He looked pale, but now defiant, and his keen cyes glittered as he looked around at his captors. His face was grim, and he had the appearance of a convict who had done time. ‘‘What does this mean?” roared Marshal Mackerel, | ‘* Find out what it means,” was the defiant snarl, the fellow’s manner being now wholly changed. ‘But, who an’ what are you?” ‘‘Find that out, too, dash you!” ‘Lock him up, mayor, and have bim guarded well,” said Deadwood Dick. ‘I am going to Nuggetville, and may have news for you when J come back. The air is fairly thick with mystery around here, and a fellow can’t draw a full breath,” OHAPTER XV. PISTOL POLLY CORNERED, TWENTY minutes later was on his way to Nuggetville. / . * : —— ee ed LL Deadwood Dick He had a companion with him, a young fel- low named Ned Wyler whom, he had picked out of the crowd and taken on the marshal’s recommendation, Ned wasa dark-skinned fellow about Dick’s own age, and Dick had noted that he had little to say but was ready to act whenever action was necessary, 2d made no fuss about it. Dick wanted him to serve as ‘guide. What he wanted a guide for, the mayor could not see, for a blind man could not have missed the way to Nuggetville, As one who knew the country for miles around, however, Ned Wyler could not be beat, and so he was the man Dick had picked out, as said, and whose selection the mayor had highly approved. They went mounted, and Dick carried a lariat on the pommel of his saddle. And as they rode out of Rosy Posy they looked like a pairof healthy, high-spirited cowboys of some wealthy ranch. The guide had not thus far asked what was required of him. He had only declared that he knew the country well, and had the. understanding that he was to be paid for his services, ‘“You are not much of a talker,” said Dick as they rode along, ‘No, unless I have somethin’ to say,” was the response. ‘Then [ simply say it and close my trap again.” *‘* That’s not abad plan, I declare. But that’s not my nature, and I must let my jaw wag whenever | find any one to talk to. I suppose you know what is required of you?” ‘*T know that you have no need of me to guide you to Nuggetville.” ‘* We are likely to have to go further.” ‘So [ thought.” : ‘‘Thes fact of the business is, we are going on a man-hunt.” : ‘That don’t surprise me, though of course I don’t know nothin’ about it yet. I know you mean business.”’ ‘So this fellow will find out, when I get hold of him.” ) ‘‘There’s one question I would like to as you,” ‘¢ What’s that?” ‘* Ain’t ycu a reg’lar detective?” ‘* Maybe.” ‘‘ And ain’t you Deadwood Dick?” ‘Well, now you are striking close to home. How did you guess it?” «A pard lused to have knew you, and from what he has told. me I was ’most sure it was you,” | ‘‘ Well, I'm the chap. But, how is it that you kept this to yourself? Most of fellows would have let it out, whether right or wrong,” ; ‘‘It was none of my business, and | thought when you got ready to let folks know, you would let it out yourself. If you didn’t let it out, then it was likely that, you had a reason for keepin it to yourself.” ‘Well, say nothing about it yet awhile, anyhow.” j They chatted on, Dick doing most of the talking, and in due time they arrived at Nuggetville. | Dick dismounted and entered the Bunga- low Hotel, while his pard remained mounted and held his horse for him. Dick asked to see Pistol Polly. She had only just breakfasted, late as it — was getting to be, and she gave Dick an audience in the apology for a parlor. “You are the lady called Pistol Polly, I believe,” said Dick. | ‘*So Iam ealled,” rather stiffly. Her eyes had a heavy look, ‘and her face showed the signs of late hours and dissipa- tion, ! | * And your true name is Mary Lovelaird,” The woman gave a great start, and her face paled. But, she was instantly on her gunrd, | “7. . - te : * ™ . lll iad \ - % (4 5 ‘ eco ny. Ras NIGCDOOKS <¢ i ~ "©, Te ae ‘ * . - d my , ay < ad te — ‘No, it is not,” she denied, “What do ; . ~- _- e gia, te