The Brand Burners of Cimarron — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

. house. ~—-_—- a ae — and the gambler thrust a number of folded papers into the waiting hand. It required but a moment’s inspection of the documents to convince Peggs that Spanish John’s assertions were absolutely true. The papers were made out in due form, and, so far as the veteran could determine, there was not a single loop- hole through which Ruby might hope to escape ! “T reckon ye called ther turn, John Barford,” he reluctantly admitted, re- turning the papers. “You yield the girl, then?” “T ain’t got ther gal. She’s hyar of her own sweet will, an’ hyar she kin ' gtay fer all o’ you.” “But the law—” “T’m upholdin’ ther law right now. You got no license ter come in ter my Without a writ, you cain’t take _ even a jack rabbit off my place, let alone a human bein’. I’m jedge an’ jury under ' my own roof, John Barford, an’ my ver- ' dict is—you skip quick !” Peggs’s wheezy old voice betrayed fierce anger. A deft movement had brought the bayonet point fairly against the gambler’s breast once more, and Spanish John realized that the case was hopeless, just then. A dark scowl crossed his face, and his single eye flashed wickedly. “You'll rue this, Zeb Peggs !” he hiss- ed, brandishing his clenched hand. Then with a bound he cleared the door sill and hurried away. ‘ €Wym ! But I’d ’a’ liked ter ’a’ jobbed ther mis’abul scorpion !” grumbled Peggs. “ Bf it hadn’t bin fer upholdin’ ther law, I’d a settled fer pore Tom’s death, in- - gtanter.” The veteran put down nts musket, and closed and bolted the door. Then he started toward the kitchen. Polly quickly barred the way. “Don’t, pop—please don’t,’’ she plead- ed, catching his hand. “ Let it alone, won’t you? You’ve behaved grandly in putting that ugly wretch to rout. Now don’t spoil—” “Young lady, hev a keer! Ther enemy ter ther fore’s in full retreat, but ther enemy ter ther rear must be looked to, Stand aside! ” Polly uttered a slight cry of alarm. “Surely, pop, you don’t think—” “ But I does think !” tersely interrupt- ed the veteran, stumping on into the kitcHen. “ Keep a lookout in front, you als.” . Glancing quickly around the kitchen, Peggs advanced to a bed in the corner, and drew a jug from beneath it. Then he opened a door and passed into the d. er huge bowlder lay near at hand. Rais- ing the jug aloft, the veteran hurled it against the massive stone. With a crash, the vessel broke into a hundred pieces, while the amber-hued liquor sank quick- ly into the dry earth. | “Thar !” he muttered, grimly mopping his face. “I’ve ’listed fer ther fight, an’ no matter what comes no one can say Zebulon Peggs was drunk when it hap- pened !” CHAPTER VII. THE DETDCTIVE. . Returning to the house, the veteran ’ hunted up some powder and buckshot, and at once recharged the musket. “ Cain’t tell what’s goin’ ter happen,” he informed the trembling girls. “John ' Barford may come back, an’ he may not.” “Don’t get into trouble for me, Mr. Peggs,” Ruby Ranger urged. “ While I feel that there is a terrible mistake - gomewhere—that that man has no legal claim upon me, yet it is not right that I - ghould involve you in any further diffi- guilty, with him.” “You keep still, young lady ! If thar’s any defickelty, it’s 0° my own makin’, . UL A ad % ‘ ‘ : . . Maat . é . - . i { eile Pola RRS oe r r ~*~ “§o do I,” av Polly. i ™ - Ww , Beet aus ude Neh y, n vee es Pea sbi ive walter, J ar WS, a - * £ “Ur « +. 2D Ser * -_¢ } bn oe Sey ‘A ie Che Oe ~ iene eee °:. ‘ ‘i. baal he "oh ae TF al Soh <8 tbl ee 8 ’ . * i. “a7 . 4 i ~ oe : i T a = =} _I owe him one for Tom’s F hates that yaller scor- |. He is a oa om) wh a ba Lilet Wy Of ce Fg ge vy 7 *e. - * The Brand-Burners of Cimarron. cold-blooded, heartless wretch, and poor Tom’s blood is certainly upon his hands.” The girl’s face clouded, and a sigh part- ed her lips. After a moment’s silence, she turned to Ruby and explained: ‘“Tom was my brother, several years older than I. He was killed during an al- tercation over a claim by this John Bar- ford. There was but one witness— a man named Rupert Belmont, and he swore that Tom was the aggressor. After the trial, the disputed claim passed from Barford to Belmont, and we have al- ways believed that he swore falsely—that Tom was murdered in cold blood.” “That he was!” Peggs asseverated. “ An’ Barford shall yet hang fer it—mark thet !” Ruby shuddered. Shortly thereafter, Mommy Peggs re- turned. Like her liege, she was of cor- pulent build, and her round English face and twinkling blue eyes beamed with good nature and motherly kindness. “You don’t need to be hafeared, dear ‘art,’ she assured Ruby, in an asthmatic voice, when she had been duly apprised of Spanish John’s visit and its result. “Poppy Peggs ’ill stand like ha bulwark hatween you an’ that riptile. Just you stay right ’ere, han hit’ll come ’round hall right.” Ruby, though far from being at ease, smilingly thanked the kindly matron. Then she protested against remaining and causing further trouble or annoyance. In the midst of the animated discussion brought up by this objection, a sharp knock sounded at the door, bringing an oppressive silence over all. ‘Kin it be thet soulless riptile ag’in?” muttered Peggs, with lowering brow, aft- er a moment’s listening. “Vum! Ef tis, I'll bagonet—” “Tt’s a stranger, pop—a gentleman at that,” Polly interjected, glancing through the window. ‘ Open the door, now, and act civilized.” Peggs hastily obeyed and the next min- ute the visitor entered the room. A tall, well-made, elegantly-dressed young man, he proved to be. His face, while handsome, was stern and fearless. In the moment he remained standing ere waved to a seat by the cobbler, his keen blue-gray eyes glanced restlessly over his surroundings. “Wal?” from the host. “ You are Mr. Zebulon Peggs, I believe?” © Was, Bits: “Well, Mr. Peggs, I am Gilbert Gold- spur, detective. I’ve called to obtain an interview wtih a Miss Ranger, who, I understand, is stopping with you.” The detective looked inquiringly at the two girls. ae Vum— ar? “Sir, it is I you seek,” Ruby inform- ed, agitatedly. “Keep still, young, lady !” growled Peggs, with a prodigious frown. Then he turned savagely to his visitor. “You come f’m John Barford, I per- soom ?” “On the contrary, I represent Major Duncan.” “Major Duncan?” ike, Manas 1 “ An’ who’s ther major?” “The major, sir, I have every reason to believe, is Miss Ranger’s father.” Peggs’s mouth opened, and he closed his single eye reflectively. Evidences of surprise also/‘appeared on the faces of the detective’s other auditors. “ Major Duncan lost a child, ten years ago,” Goldspur proceeded. “A daughter, Ruby, six years old. She was stolen by a one-eyed scamp named Barmillo. In Denver, this Barmillo, we believe, trans- ferred the child to one’ John Brown, at that time known as Esau Black, and then disappeared. There is a gap in the evi- dence at this point which we have not been able to fill; but we believe that John Barford is Barmillo, and that Ruby Ranger is Duncan’s daughter.” “ Aw—hum !” Peggs gasped spasmodic- ally. His florid face had become livid, | and he tore frantically at the folds _ = bad > oe ah al . .* the , oe, iF ? : a" 4 - : ° de ne dy . P te : -_— - et Pe re ve . of) ae of tai | $tiuy i Pd a’ ? . encasing his throat. Then he staggered from his seat, and fell with a crash to the floor. Mommy Peggs, not a whit less pallid, uttered a faint cry, and wrung her pudgy hands. ‘“Hopperplexy !” she moaned. * “‘ Pore, dear man—hexcitement’s bin too much fer im! Hoh, ’eavens !” The girls, too, were terribly alarmed. — Of the group, Goldspur alone retained ful} + possession of his faculties. He bent quickly over the cobbler. Happily, the attack was slight. Vig- orous measures restored consciousness im a moment,, and Peggs rose to a sitting posture, whence he was helped to his feet by the detective. “ You are better,” Goldspur said. The veteran shivered violently. “Y—yas. You kin talk ter ther gal. I’m goin’ ter lay down till I feels better. “Mommy, help me.” Dutifully, Mommy Peggs stepped to her husband’s side, and led him from the room. In the kitchen, the cobbler lay down upon the bed in a corner. His face at that moment was a study, and his eye gleamed oddly. Catching his spouse’s head in his hands, he forced an ear close to his lips, and hissed: “Hear all—remember all !” Repressing her amazement, Mommy nodded, and silently returned to the front room, where she sat through Goldspur’s interview with Ruby Ranger. Nothing new to the reader was develop- ed, and at the end of a half-hour the detective departed. As previously noted, it was an electiom day, and the town was thronged. With a glance at the distant crowd, Goldspur turned into the trail leading westward along the crest of the divide. <A short distance out of town, he quitted the road and entered a timber slashing. Just ahead was a dense clump of second- growth oak. As the detective neared it, the dead leaves rustled sharply, and a boy stepped into view, gun in hand. It was Gimps. “ Hallo !” greeted Goldspur. “ You are prompt, my lad.” “ Like time an’ tide, perfessor, on’y I waits fer a man. But, say! Tve got ther news ! “They’re goin’ ter raffle ther gal !” «e Bh | ee “Jest what I said, boss, an’ I’m in om ther deal, too. Spanish John scented trouble ’ith Peggs, an’ laid out ther hull. scheme last night, ter hev et ready. See?” <a “No, Gimps, I don’t see. Explain.” “Wal, perfessor, et’s smooth es eels. One-Eye hes a wheel o tortune. Et’s sot on legs, an’ hes a crank like a grind- stun. Ther round box hes a partition. acrost ther middle, cuttin’ et in two, an’ each side hes a little slide door, ter draw from. Ther side holdin’ numbers is painted red, ther one with blanks an’ ther prize slip, blue. Do ye foller?” “Yes; at every complete revolution of i the wheel, there is a number and a blank drawn.” ““Jes’ so. Wal, thar’s two hundred ~ tickets, at dollar a number. Now, two | huodred numbers ter match ther tickets will be put in ther red hafe o’ ther wheel, and a hundred an’ ninety-nine blanks an’ ther prize slip in ther blue side. Do ye ketch, perfessor?” ‘ Decidedly, Gimps. Proceed.” “Ther drawin’ will take place in public — after ther races this afternoon, an’ I’m ter do ther drawin’. At a word from Spanish John, I’m ter slip my hand inter a cute little pocket made o’ glue an’ mus- lin, in ther red side, an’ pull out No. 99. Then, when ther wheel turns blue side up, I’m ter get ther prize slip out o’ ther same kind o’ pocket, an’ Rupert Belmont. — P will win the gal.” Goldspur nodded quickly. | | “You have done well, Gimps,” he de- clared. ‘Lhen, after a moment’s reflection, — he asked: | = Tl “Where is the wheel?” _ ® * ‘“ Above ther Silver - . + 4 ah RS Wit ooks.com ee es et SE ee iad a " :,* v bh * A J we ta # hd at ed ;oo Ve , micb \ t. c Mae int OR 2 Ecmntea ef + % “si t< ~ a : i ; (el @ } - | 4a Ses ~~ — - mere ee we ‘ + un ‘ « Sf : oe . 4 Shades be , @«.'% is 8 ; a