Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 991 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

d : “ i, é , , Las... A las ‘ : P Pe *' * ae 7 43 y ‘ 7 y 6 ’ ss BH = RY hr “9 5 eT ; ‘ ee : ba WT oad cat v be . TT /} { er. “This is carryin’ Two Dudes from Doomed Camp. | Z humor this mornin’, and he said some things he may have ter take back. be- fore night.” “About your house?” “Not particularly about the ranch, but eoncernin’ other matters. There’s liable ter be a picnic before the funeral, and some more graves may have ter be made on the hill.” With this the landlord pursued his task, and Bob and Ben looked on. “When did Mountain Kidd here?” asked Bob. “Two years ago.” “Where from?” “That’s his secret. We never could find out, but all I know about his past is a few words which Billy Whiskers once dropped.” ‘““ What were they?’”’ ‘““He talked about a price set on a man’s head, and he mentioned Mountain Kidd’s name in the same connection.” ‘“‘ Where is Billy, the sweet singer?” “In his shanty, p’raps. It’s the third one from the end o’ the street to the right of the hotel.” ‘Come,’ said Bob to Ben, and the two passed out, | The cabin designated by Oregon Dave was not hard to find, and they entered. It was untenanted, and they stopped just inside the door. The cot that faced them had not been slept on the previous night, and noth- ing went to show that Billy Whiskers had been there since they saw him last, with Nelly, on the street. “Not at home,” observed Bob. “ Nor has he been here for some time,” was the reply. ‘‘ The song bird of Shake- down may have left his cage for good.” Bob Hanley crossed the little room and had put his hand upon a rough shelf at the wall, when the door was flung open and the camp giant stopped at the threshold. “‘Nosing around already?” said Kidd, in whose hand was gripped a six-shoot- things with a high hand in Shakedown. Stand away from that shelf! Touch it and I'll send sunlight through you with a forty-two.” Up came the revolver, but another weapon clicked and Ben Parks covered the tough with a weapon almost as large as his own. come “Hands down, Mountain Kidd!” warned the Dude Detective. “ Hands down or a bullet in your head! Take your choice!” The desperado had found his match and seemed to realize that he had blun- dered. CHAPTER VI. FORCED INTO EXILE. Undoubtedly Mountain Kidd had réckoned without his host. “What is it?’ demanded Bob. “ You don’t guard this cabin, do you?” “No, not exactly; but, you see, Billy is a friend o’ mine, and I don’t like ter see his things disturbed,” ‘“No one intended to disturb them. I Was just going to look if the sweet singer of Shakedown had left any reason for not occupying his bunk last night.” “Then look.” Bob turned again to the shelf, but found nothing on it to reward him. Mountain Kidd, with glowering visage stood in the docr, his revolver still clutched in his hand and his face aflame with rage. “You two gentlemen don’t expect to do as you please in Shakedown?” he blurted. ‘Not at all.” “In the first place, you come here with a story that you know the dead “4 . % ? f »® “4 ef ‘as pe Ey hee iemaas ials dee ‘3 ° Bo es i o- * / ’ * 7 MT) § ® y “ . u ' ad \ we of ? T : 4 .. id P; ’ \. ea? a q ~ a t Det owe t dh A. man in Goldbug’s cabin. You won't tell us, but keep the secret to yerselves. We can’t tolerate this kind o’ thing here. We won't, that’s all.” With this the big bully withdrew and the cousins looked at one another in silence. As Mountain Kidd left the cabin a wild shout was heard, and through the door which he left open Bob and Ben looked down the street and saw a man, well mounted, as he drew rein in front of the Hotel Eden. The Two Dudes stepped to the door and looked at the new-comer, whom Mount- ain Kidd was eyeing with a good deal of intensity. The giant of Shakedown had stopped a few yards from Billy Whiskers’ shanty. He still held the revolver in his bronzed hand, and his body was bent forward in intent interest. “Who is he?” Ben. “Time will tell. Some wolf of the sort we are dealing with, I suppose.” They walked toward the horseman. He was a man rather stockily built and dressed in rough mining garb, a red kerchief about his neck, and over his shoulders a lot of reddish hair. He stood almost straight in his stir- rups, his large bronzed face showing clearly in the sunlight, and his deep set eyes looking down the street where the figure of Mountain Kidd was outlined against the cabins. “Hurrah for Jerusalem Jake!” he shouted, as if in defiance to the man-wolf who was Watching him. Mountain Kidd stepped a little nearer. The man on the horse took off his hat, which act let loose all his leonine locks, and he seemed to straighten an inch in the heavy stirrups. “ Death ter the wretches of the Mari- posa!” he exclaimed, swinging his hat round his head. ‘You can’t hoodwink Jerusalem Jake aljl the time, not quite, ha, ha, ha!” By this time Mountain Kidd was not the only person who had noted the stranger’s arrival. One-half of the camp’s populace had swarmed from their shanties and were looking at what they felt would be a bloody meeting. Jerusalem Jake did not seem to be armed; indeed, he did not wear a belt of any kind; but his mien was cour- ageous and he settled down in the sad- dle with the ease and grace of a Co- manche. In another moment he sprang to the ground and threw the bridle reins over the neck of his sorrel. As he did so he strode toward Kidd and suddenly lifted his hand. “So you’re here yet,’ he said con- temptuously. “I half expected to find you food for the buzzards an’ wolves, but they’ve spared you, have they?” “They've spared me,” answered Kidd, ‘“ And you? What brings you from your retreat? ”’ ‘“ Vengeance! Whar’s the last victim of the murderin’ hands o’ Shakedown?” “Down yonder in Goldbug’s shanty.” Jerusalem Jake walked toward the cabin, his horse following like a dog, and all looked in amazement at the little man who had dared the autocrat of Shakedown. All eyes followed him down the street and the cousins watched him with more than passing interest, They saw him stop in front of th shanty that contained the still unburied corpse of the man found dead by Alkali Tom, and not until then did he look back at Mountain Kidd. involuntarily asked i) es Bain ~ aeas ty's a e aa p Ade " -_—-_“~ ee —— = oe eee The stranger’s steed half shielded him, but Mountain Kidd saw him all the same, Jerusalem Jake opened the doar of the cabin, and looked inside. As he did so the hand of Mountain Kidd was lifted and the shrill report of a six-shooter followed. The bullet struck the door and buried itself in the wood. It» was the autoerat’s challenge to Jerusalem, but that worthy did not seem to heed it. Several minutes elapsed ere the door opened again and the figure of the new- comer came out, He looked up the street and saw Mountain Kidd still standing in the high- way. The two enemies faced one another, and the man from abroad walked coolly forward. The crowds along the cabins looked at this scene with varied emotions. “Hands up!” cried Jerusalem Jake, as he approached. Mountain Kidd did not move a muscle. “ Hands up, Mountain Kidd. It is not Jerusalem who speaks this time. It is the Gold Butterfly! ” There was a start on the other’s part, and those who looked closest saw a pal- lor sweep over the giant’s face, “Hands up!” It was the third time, and the hands of Mountain Kidd were lifted above his head. “The coward!” said some one in the crowd along the cabins. “Is Mountain Kidd mad?” “He is afraid. He knuckles to the madman from the south. Mountain Kidd shows the white feather.” To these remarks the giant made no reply. He looked into the face of Jeru- salem Jake and seemed to see another image there. The stranger stepped nearer and held out his hands. Mountain Kidd hesitated a second, and then seized them, while he stared and glared at their owner, in whose eyes burned a strange, wild light. “Shall I proclaim it?” demanded Je- rusalem Jake. “You may.” “It will exile you.” “IT don’t care.” “It will make you a vagabond on the face of the earth.” ‘Perhaps; but I’ll take keer o’ num- ber one,” i en more, Mountain Kidd; where is she?” sé Dead.”’ “You swear it?” se Yes.” “ And where is the other? ” * Dead.” “ You swear that, ton?” ws Oe Ge “ And the child? ” “I don’t know!” “Upon your solemn oath?” The Shakedown giant hesitated, but asserted that he spoke the last words on his solemn oath. The hands of the two men parted, and Jerusalem Jake stepped back to turn suddenly upon the men of the mountain camp, who had watched everything in silence beyond their first remarks about Mountain Kidd’s cowardice. “Men of Shakedown, listen to me,” he cried in loud tones. ‘‘I am going to tell the truth, let it hurt whom it mav. It is My mission to speak the truth wher- ever I go, and you shall hear it now. Mountain Kidd is Pinos Jack, the high- wayman of the Silver Hills. He is the man upon whose head there is a stand- ing price, and on whose hands is the = '- ~—- > . me ow. = , ‘ * ' “ ‘ 2 “ - > = > i? 7 a 3 y ‘. * - SP 8 mem ee — = <a - : ‘a tf ri 4 ‘’ oe! wt 5 t2./7, . A y aif 4 . har hy ual * ih vd ‘Sa ey: He Af Selatan ath sap SN SD a