Beadle's Dime Library No. 1 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

No, 1, oo” There was a rah of heavy feet | Stranger’s; but in it there were h the darkened room, Harsh voices were raised in quick command, in blasphemous vitu- tion, in cries of pain and rage, and in dis- | cordant hubbub—the last apparentl increase the confusion. But above all sounded the frightened whinner and snorting of a horse, and the thud of his hoofs on the floor as he plunged hither and thither in bewildered panic. In the frantic effort. to escape danger from the | agreeable, Pil put up asawbuck that he hain’t | frightened animal, and from the no less fierce | human , the rude furniture was over- | turned and broken by the fall. of heavy bodies; | and windows were crashed through, as afford- ing the most available exit. Then, before the room was yet emptied, followed a rapid ex- change of shots outside the saloon, as in a run- ning fight; and wr ted the sound of horses ts in rapid retreat. noPraddled. u in a corner behind his bar, the oprietor of the Occidental Saloon felt rather ‘jub’ous” about li bene hie Swietannn ed lamps. Thus far he had ‘come off with a bull hide;” but a “third scrimmage might bring a turn in his luck.” An occasional scene of this sort gave agreeable variety toa life which, lack- ing this spice, might become monotonous; but in view of the abundance of adventure, and the turbulence of its character, crowded into the short space of one evening, and recalling the roverb—‘ Three times and out!”—Andy voted he present occasion ‘“‘a leetle too red hot fur health!” : ; While the shuffling of feet, im blows and cries of pain and rage showed that the human brutes had not yet all effect- ed their escape from that darkened pandemo- nium, a crashing of the door and a cessation in the thud of iron hoofs told when the horse made his way into the oper air. Buta moment lon- ger the blind struggle continued, and then the only sound ee in the room was Andy’s own suppressed breathing. at even the silence might be treacherous; and preferring not to “stop a bullet if it was all the same to the rest of the company, Andy remained content to awaiting the reassurance of returning aniwmat humanity; for he knew not how many imant- mate forms, covered by the darkness, might lie on the other side his bar, the ‘ leavin's of the shindy through which they had just passed. eh - hain’t no groanin’,” he was saying to himself, after the expiration of perhaps a quarter of an hour, when a brisk step caused him to thrill and start with apprehension. Then from the darkness came the challenge: cations, “Hallo, here! Ate) yon all dead or vamosed? trike a light! Ho, here , , jostantly the cowering bar-keeper was on his feet, and but for the darkness his face migh aes been seen broadened by a grin of delighted relief. «Be that you, Gentleman Sam?” he cried. Ss Lord love a boy, but “ had a jamboree amboree, for sure 08 e hehtt A’ light!” demanded Dauntless impatiently. . 1 oBe ainady a lucifer burned blue in Andy’s fingers; and a moment later the clear flame of the match partially illuminated the room. Dauntless Jerry was standing just beyond the end of the bar, with his hands axtended be- fore him, as one groping in the dark, A hand- kerchief tied down over one eye and the side of his head seemed to indicate that he had not come off without a token of the affray in which he had so ntly laid The Red Hand hors de combat. dy caught only a a of him, as with a shrp cry he leaped forwar Neg the barkeeper such a start that opped the match, and they were again enveloped in dark- "i wae The light! The light!” was the sharp com- mand; et arta trembling fingers Andy made another essay. As the faskpiwick ignited Dauntless Jerry was discovered kneeling at the end of the bar, nd- ing over a motionless form 1 which Andy re- cognized The Stranger, who he Phebe >» Gentle- man Sam’s sister had beyond the rush of the maddened mob. As for the rest, one may gather the condition of —. outside the bar from a subsequent description Andy’s haracteristic style: c ‘It looked, oF Jove, sir! as if a boss hurri- cane had set the tables an’ chairs to dancin’ Ju- ber, until thar a a — meme. A nen to make a match of—blow me ' But The Stranger demanded their first atten- prey Me he’s plugged, sure!” commented _ Andy, with a feeling of awe. Mentally he was struggling with the ques- oer Mir the cock o’ the walk rubbed out the fust elatter after his tail feathers begun to sprout? But, unheeding, Dauntiess Jerry was tearing away the neckcloth, then stripping the bloody shirt from the breast of the unconscious Man. “The galoot shot to kill, an’ no mistake! acded the saloon-keeper, as he saw, not far be- — - ~ . - —_ a as ——— ——— - a -_--- A Hard Crowd; or, Gentleman Sam’s Sister. hard lines of in, while the other lay as if in ves With eyes glowing like coals and a frame to foot, the youth said, in quivering from head only to | a low voice husky with intense passion: “If he dies, 1’ hunt his murderer to the grave, so help me God!” ‘‘T reckon he’ll stand a pile o’ killin’” said Andy. ‘‘ His kind mostly does. Ef so be yeou’re bushed yet. It did not seem to strike Andy that Dauntless Jerry might feel any delicacy about making the life or death of his friend the subject of a wager. Had it been his own mother, instead of a stranger, the instinct to gamble might have led him to say: “Wal, gents, has any one o’ yeou an opinion what he dast to back? Air the ole woman off, ur hain’t she? Oome, pick yer side an’ pile yer | _ have carried him off on horseback, if he did not ones fur I’m boun’ to cover somethin’ |’ eanwhile, Dauntless Jerry set about dress- ing the wound of The Stranger with a solici- rem, 8 as tender as any woman’s. Presently a head was cautiously thrust in at one of the windows. The whisky-bleared eyes took a curious survey of the room, and then the head was withdrawn. ‘‘Only one stiff, boys,” said a voice in the darkness; ‘‘an’ doggaun my skin ef it hain’t The Stranger!” ‘The blazes ye say!” replied another voice. Then several of the patrons of the saloon, who had lately vacated it so precipitately, re- | hanged before | wring from entered, to be followed presently by Major Gravesend and his me n. ‘Is he much hurt?’ asked the major, bending | it.” over the still unconscious form of The Stran- | ger. | Dauntless Jerry looked up appealingly. Papen. | ‘What do you think about 16?” ‘*Tt’s not so bad as it might be,” replied the major, after a brief examination. ‘“ has an iron constitution, I should say, and can pull through harder rubs than this. But, of course he must be removed from here. Men, bring that door; and we will take him to his hotel.” The rear door of the saloon was hanging by one hinge; and even in that the screws were | ray , vow was — down and The tranger plac n it, the major covering him with his eldak, to protect tin from the drizzling rain. | ‘* We won’t go tothe hotel,” said Jerry, asthe | men left the saloon, bearing the burden on their shoulders. ‘‘I know a where he'll get | better care, and have it quieter. This way, gents, for the widow Robinson’s.” | They yielded to his direction, the major walk- | Mile they had been placing The § | e np ) ron the impro stretcher, the eyes pe ie Gravesend had studied the face of the youth ia no little interest. Now he said, interroga- | tively: | $, You have called yourself Gentleman Sam?” | ‘‘'That’s one o’ my handles,” asserted Jerry. | ‘* But I prefer Dauntless Jerry, seein’ this boss | has given me that.” “You have a sister!” | eful slum- | money will procure,” he said. | how it is; but some link binds him to me, ’m ——— a | tressed when he discovers its loss. "had before!” said the former, with deep feeling. _ binson. |. Not-very well content, the major saw Daunt- less Jerry again go out into the storm in quest | of his sister. ‘Then, nothing else remaining to | be done, he picked his way through the sodden | streets to his own hotel, buried in moody | thought. Dr. Chillingworth received intelligence of The _Stranger’s condition with marked solicitude. “Don’t let him lack for anything which “| don’t know sure. It seems as if the crisis of my life were at hand; and I want him to stand by me, asI fee] that he will. if the other had only been captured! Do you think that he was killed?’ ‘ No,” replied the major, somewhat absently. ‘* He fell; but I hardly think his followers could recover consciousness sufficiently to help him- ‘* We must not remit our efforts to effect his capture. I have followed him for nearly twenty years, and I cannot be frustrated now.” There is little likelihood of his escaping. The opinion is gaining prevalence that he is the head of a band of horse-thieves and cutthroats. It will not be jhard to raise the Vigilantes; and they don’t e such gentlemen with kid gloves!” “‘ But it will be fatal to my p s, if he is i the secret with which he has spoiled my life. Promise me that you will not let them do that, if you can help ce I romise. 7 ‘‘And, major, The Stranger’s picture—you will oblige me by returning it. He will be dis. Him, also, I must see as soon as | am able.” Meanwhile, in the stable yard of the [hotel a new element was entering into the drama. A crowd of men, agog with curiosity, was gath- ered about a horse, listening to the excited words of a man with a eurry-comb and sponge. Thar! How’s them fur yearmarks what don’t wash?” he cried, exultingly, amon 3 to the sleek flank of the animal from which he had just removed a white spot, evidently the work of human ingenuity. ‘* Knowed ye, ole boy!” he added, addressing the horse, which rubbed its nose man in evident recognition—“ knowed ye, ole | boy! Wal, I reckon! he n turning to the crowd again: “Gents, do ye see him a-shakin’ hands with me, jest as much as to say: ‘How dye do, old fel? I’m powerful glad to see ye.’ That’s the hoss of it, ye understand. Would he rub his muzzle agin yeour arm an’ nibble yeour sleeve in that knowin’ way? Do ye see a hoss how- dye-doin’ Tom, Dick and Harry? Wal, ye don’t!” ‘*T allow somebody’s callin’ powerful loud fur a long rope and a runnin’ noose!” growled a | voice in the crowd. pursued the major. It was from a man who had himself lost a ‘‘Well, what of her?’ asked Jerry, guardedly. | horse, and about him rose a murmur of sympa- ‘‘She leaped her horse into the saloon in the midst of the fracas. I hope she was not hurt. | You know her present whereabouts, I pre- sume?” ¢ goin’ on!” exclaimed Jerry a gazing at his interlocutor 3 the ‘‘ When the lights went out she was standing over The St , threatening his assailants with her pistols,” replied the major, and he was conscious of blended emotions thrilling through his te deal a, bs ane 8 i pt the Soa was i onsy any rate, of the picture he had seen through the * shantieredd fn would rather remember only the queenly bear- ing o the fallen man over whom she had extended her protection. ‘‘And you did not: see her leave the saloon? | this opportunity to retaliate, in safe You do not know whether she escaped unhurt?” | Jerry, anxiously. “No,” replied the major. ‘Do you know where to look for her, if she is uninjured? Let me atcompany you.” “I on she kin take care of herself,” said Jerry, with a sudden change of manner. ‘* Thank ye all the same.” And he resumed his walk. . Repulsed so pointedly, the major followed after, not a little vexed at meeting opposition in a boy scarcely out of his teens. of that he saw a very formidable barrier in Jerry’s re- | serve. A manused to command, he resolved to know more of Gentleman Sam’s sister, in spite, if need *_, of her fire-eating brother. a1 an hour after The nger was snugly tucked in bed, with the bullet extracted and the wqund neatly dressed by a professional surgeon. | ‘With proper n there is no reason why he should not be on his feet again in a few | weeks,” was the verdict which made Dauntless | turned up missin’.” ‘My sister in the saloon while the fight was ing short, and | darkness. | | a window, he | ee ee | that! thy from his friends, one of them volunteering, for the benefit of the uninformed, that ‘‘ Joe knowed how it was himself, since his filly had ‘Who pretended to run this hyar critter?” demanded a voice. ‘‘ It’s the sharp what calls hisself ‘ The Stran- ger,’” replied the hostler. ‘‘ Him as dropped his meat in the Occidental?” ‘“That’s the crowd.” A hubbub of comment ensued, everybody con- curring in the opinion that The Stranger had been a suspicious character from the first. It needed but little to fan into a flame the smoldering rage of men who felt that they had the heroine, while he drove from mind — been injured in the tenderest point; and soon the air rung with denunciation. A ready leader was found in Poker Tom, who was overjoyed at ty, upon the man who had ‘cowed him with the fire of his eye and belittled his dignity with the patroniz- ing address of ‘‘ my man;” and soon an excited mob was pouring down the strect toward the widow Robinson’s, In vain one more humane or less excited than the rest protested: . ‘But, gents, the galoot’s flat on his back, plugged with a bullet that wa’n’t sent home by no fool.” His voice was drowned in the wild hubbub of imprecations and denunciation; and soon the door of the chamber in which The Stranger la yielded to the rude assault of men who ‘ didn stand on no doggaun fool ceremony!” A sudden flashing of the eye and a deep- drawn breath was the only betrayal of emotion on the apr of The Stranger as Poker Tom com- manded: ‘Fetch ’im along, fellors! Snake ’im out o’ 1 reckon he won’t clap hands on 20 more horseflesh this side o’ kingdome-come!” But a woman’s voice was raised in defense of ii ‘*] shall bring my own sister to help . Ro- ~~ re, low the region of the heart, a small perforation, Jerry’s face beam, while the major unconscious- the strong man now so helpless. He who was pay which a | foremost in laying violent hands on The Stran- Dauntless Jerry’s face was as pale as The ‘He shall have such nursing as man never ger felt on his arm the clinging fingers of q 4 (ele) 300 com