Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 1061 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

7. wh o Ls a yee: oe ¥ Pa RPR Re await our departure. They are even now peering from the foliage with glittering eyes, | ee over their prespective feast of horse- esbh.” With some difficulty our.two Ranger pards mounted their mrstangs, made their way arouid the Mission to the trail, where Sam | question was often asked at his bank: pointed the dead horse out to Joe, under the | ‘* Charley, are this game open ter hogs?’ and ruined wall, and then they proceeded slowly | the only answer that he could give with any toward San Antonio, conversing upon the | satisfaction to himself was: expedients to be adopted in the coming chase, ‘‘T don’t take any ‘big-footed’ ones, If I after the bandits, which Sam, despite his | take any I take them flat, as a bet; and laid wounds, had decided upon, and Joe had sworn | out flat on the table. I’ve got through hunting by the Alamo’s sacred walls tosee him through, a stake among the post-oak bogs,” though Santa Anna himself, at the head of an It was but a few minutes after Charley army stretching from the mouth to the head of | Smith had closed his game against all bristle- the Bravo strove to intercept them. bearing quadrupeds, the monte-room being still crowded, when the sound of loud voices in the adjoining bar-room which VEAL TER Je |/opened on the street, the monte-room A ; BIG FOOT BUCKS MONTE, MICK MCFIL- | backing on the engine-room of the old Herald LINNY’S RIDE. | office—came to the ears of those who were en- AFTER the excitement, incident to the execu- | gaged ‘nm or watching the games; a general tion of Mustang Bob, had somewhat subsided, | rush was made into the front establishment. Upon the sanded floor in front of the bar lay the Rangers, headed by Ben Thompson, re- the body of Augustine Birrara—a man known paired to the Plaza House, to discuss with the by everybody, and holding the position of City many rancheros who had arrived in town, from different parts of the county, the whisky | Marshal under Chief Marshal Burns—his: cigarette still smoking between his teeth. Tha of Bob Caile, and the general situation of things on the scuth-western frontiers, hands of friends soon tore the coat and shirt Big Foot, having imbibed somewhat freely | away from his breast, showing a small punc- during the day, meandered into the Bull’s- | ture, just over the heart, with but a single Head, where he lost nearly every dollar that | drop of blood upon the surface of the skin— ie had in his pouch, ‘‘ bucking against monte,” | the work of a deadly Spanish stiletto, and then went wandering about the Plaza, Judge Henson, who was present, upon ques- thoroughly disgusted with civilization gene- | tioning the barkeeper, Ernest Rhumell, ascer- rally, and the monte part of it in particular. tained that while the latter had his back turned, He finally concluded, after nervously feeling | arranging some articles of ornament near the in his pouch for the gold that was not there, to | mirror, he had observed a man, whose features | were partially concealed by a slouched som- try and get even in some way, With this determination in his mind he re- | brero, come in by the entrance next to the murket, pass quickly across the room, deliver | ! a ee but returned to San Antonio in three days, completely broken down by forced marches, through the post-oaks, and without having caught a glimpse of any swine bearing the two- thirds clip and Comanche split, as a distin- _guishing mark. A frequent and exasperating end of the table, behind which Charley Smith was dealing, he nervously inquired: *‘T say, Charley, ar’ yer game open ter hogs! I’m plum played out o’ oro, an’ plata, an’ I ’lows ter bet my livestock flat, an’ nary bar the door wunst.” A smile and an affirmative nod was Charley Smith’s answer; and, with a pleased expression on his face, Big Foot began to bet his hogs on every lay-out thrown on the board Still the fortune of the game was against him. Steadily he lost, until the title to five hundred hogs had followed where his goid had gone, Then Charley turned @own the cards, as if au idea had suddenly struck him, and anxiously Inguired: ‘Big Foot, old boy, where are your hogs? I don’t reckon you’ve got that many in town with you. If you have they’ll spoil on my hands this hot weather.” The giant scout raised his sombrero from his head, ran bis fingers through his tangled locks, and auswered: “Wall, Charley, them thar hogs are high- porn, sassy, chuck full o' grit, an’ powerful _nard to corral. As ter whar tha’ bees, I rec’on youll find ’em—’lowin’ tha’ hasn’t scattered offea ther range—spread roun’ permise’us like, - fiom my ranch on ther lower Frio, clean ter .ther Bandard Hills, I hain’t gouged out time fer two year, er sich a matter, ter mark ther critturs, but when yer draws a dead site "hind _en’ ‘fore, on a berd on ’em in that range, an’ one on ’em has my mark, which ar’ a two-thirds clip on ther right ear, au’ a Comanche split on +ther left, why yer kin jist haul in ther hull pot, corral the ontire caboodle, an’ sashay num with yer bacon, That ar’ a fa’r an’ ~equar’, straight up an’ down burgain, an’ I sees _ yer through, ef it comes to blood an’ ha’r.” The wild roar of laughter from the by- standers, at this rather lengthy, “‘round’ the corner” answer, caused Charley to blush the -color of a boiled lobster, but one look at the buge infant, who, in times past, had done so mnch to keep up his game, and whose whole- _souled eyes looked down upon him in child- like innocence, unconscious of having done any- thing wrong in giving Charley a six months’ furlough, hunting five hundred hogs, ninety- mine out of ona hundred of which he would never find, as Charley was no more posted in post-oak hog-hunting than he was in teaching a — gard to the assassination. No person was in the room except Ernest, the assassin, and the victim, Was this murderer one of the bandits who had escaped death in the fight on the Plazas, and who secretly returned for vengeance on the city official who had been prominent in the conflict, or was Birrara a victim of a family vendetta? No one could say. No attempt was made to follow the mur- derer, as all knew he could quickly elude cap- ture by dodging into one of the many hijals on the street, or over the foot-bridge. Prominent among the crowd about the mur. dered man were Fighting Ben, Big-Foot, Dutch Pete, and others of our friends; who were listening to every word and opiuion, never losing a chance to gather information which might prove of advantage to them in their war against the outlaws. They were doubly inter- ested in this case, as Augustine had been well known and highly respected by all the Ameii- can boys in San Antonio, Dutch Pete walked up to the bar, purchased two bottles of whisky, and departed muttering to himself. ‘*Tam dat pull-fight, und all dem tam.dings, vat vas cums mit id? Much drduples mit ev'ry poty. I goes pack to de camp, liveerly quick, und vaits dill dot Puckskin cum’s. Den sum fun cum’s mit him, I pets a dotzen mulars.” Fete straddled his horse, which stood in front of the market, and galloped to the camp at San Pedro Springs, taking a pull at one of his bottles, now and then, on the run. When Pete rode into camp he found no one there except Mick McFillinny, and Austin, the cook who greeted bim gladly, as they were quite lonely, and anxious to know what had become of their fellow Rangers, especially ‘‘ Buckskin Sam.” Pete quickly divested his horse of its equip- ments and led the animal to grass, Then, tak- curned to the Bull’s-Head, and leaning on the a sudden blow at Augustine, and then run out by the front entrance, going down the street toward the foot-bridg , Augustine reeled, staggered a moment, and fell to the floor. That was ajl he or any one else knew in re- ing from his malettos, (saddle-bags,) a bottle | of whisky, he held the same above bis head ‘triumphantly, and gave a yell that would have shamed a Comanche, and which caused the mules over the creek to jerk up their heads ; } | Sunday-schowl, calmed Charley down, I will | in surprise, Austin to knock his stove-pipe off hn A here add, however, that Charley had congider- against a limb, and Mick to drop his pipe, Pe _ able confidenve in himself in regard to bush- | which he was lighting, and burn his fingers. a _. whacking, (this expression was in use before , Hastily inserting his digits in his mammoth Reey) 2) Se tig subsequently hired two Mexicans, | mouth, and then shaking them through the a whom | took with pee SP corral the porkers, ' air, Mick turned about with anger in his eye, finally settled do a discutsi : ‘mae ecomicbooks a which suddenly changed to an expression of intense surprise, and gratification, as he ex- claimed: ‘* Be ther big ould castle ev me gran’faather, who was, ’pon me Irish ’onnor, an’ Irish king! an’ it’s: whisky ye are afther havin,’ misther Pate, God love yees! ye alwi’s was afther bain’ a dacint gossoon as iver whacked a mule—me curse on the craythers, it’s a harud time I bad a-tindin’ thim while ye ware gone, an’ me legs is black frum a kick I got. Misther Pate, sure don’t ye know I was alwis afther havin’ a tindher regard for yees, an’ it’s a d’rop o’ the crayther ye’ll let me swig, me dariint; fur, *pon me sow], I’m smuthered wid schmoke an’ dust,” How pees dem mulars, und how dey vas all de vile I vas gone mit San Antonio?’ inquired Pete, as he leaned against a tree-trunk and took a stiff drink, addressing himself to Aus- ‘ tin, who tipped bis hat in a respectful manner, his ebony features shining with joyous antici- pation as he watched the bottle pointing toward the sky, while Pete, with a gurgle, gurgle, gurgle, poured down the greatest curse sent to humanity. It was with some concern and many comi- cal contortions of countenance that Mick saw his flattering speech utterly ignored. He scratched his head vigorously as he watched the upside-down position of the bottle tor s¢ long a time. ‘‘Mar’sa Pete, de mules am _ scrumtious, Deir be’n in no danger of starbation durin’ your sumwhat perlonged an’ aggrawatin’ ab- sense. Dat ungodliest ob all animiles, de goeh ear’d, mangy-maned paint (many-colored), done jist h’isted de lid offen dis chile’s stew- pan wonst, when Le dun stampeeded past de fire, but didn’t spill de b’ilins, or he’d never see Chuesday ag’in. Mar’sa Pete, [’se not feelin’ ’strawdin’airly lubly; gimme, arter dis gentle- mun, jist a leetle smell ob dat ’stinguisher ob de billyousness ob all gentlemuns, ob ebry color an’ inclineations.” Pete stood for a moment with a broad whisky-grin upon his face, intensely amused at the sudden importance to which a bottle of whisky had raised him in the estimation of his two peculiar pards. **Vich you likes der pess, poys, dis tam Tuch mular triver, or dat tam pottle of whisky? Pezs you mine freens, indeet?’ ‘“Marsa Pete, you lasserate my ’fectshuns to an elewated degree. I ’sures you I feels ’streamly aggervated at de insinerwation!” Austin folded his arms and assumed the air and position of a much injured man, ‘**Misther Pate, duz ye take an’ Irish gintle- mon, the dascindant ev a king, to be the kind ev a mon what ye are afther incinivatin’? Go way wid yer dirthy stbuff, sure I’d not giv ¢ hafer fur a hull cask ev it, and Mick strode toward the fire and picked up bis pipe. “Vell, poys, as ve vants no drouples ’pout id, I shoost preak dis pottle on de tree, dougk it haf gost me swi-pits at de Pull’s-Heat.” Pete raised the bottle on high, feigning to be about to dash it to pieces. “Mither o’ Moses, Misther Pate, don’t be afther doin’ that. Troth the movn’s gittin® i crazy!” cried Mick, as be rushed back. pte BN. afl “Gollamighty, marsa Pete, ain’t you ’crimi- natin’ ’nuff ter know we both am willin’ ter breeve our last gasp fer yer on any ’strawdin- ury casion, an’ why you dun go ter labor up our feelin’s dis way? You ’pears ter be preshus portic’lar ’bout a small decockshun oh ae corn-juice.” Pete, having had his own fun, now passed the whisky to Mick, who, as he glued the mouth of the bottle to his lips, closed his eyes and rubbed his stomach with great satisfaction. He then banded the fl»sk to Austin, who, with a very low bow, his hat under his arm, ad- dressed Pete: ‘*Marsa Pete, I drinks ter de holesale pros- ‘pairaty ob you awn’ de mules, and hopes yer will git @ good wife, lib till yer eyebrows drag on de grown’, an’ yer'll hab chilluns ‘nuff ter hold em up, ’sist yer on de road yer has ter go an’ stampede eberythin’, mules ‘cluded, outen yer trail.” Austin drank copiously, while the hanging moss upon the trees quivered with the wild bursts of laughter from Dutch Pete and Mick; the latter executing a difficult Irish jig on the hard-trodden earth, Our trio of friends in a short time became engaged in an exciting argument which wan dered from one question to another until it + & » e? 4 Se = { ~ > : , * | - | | af we ’ - : r{ ter 3 oN ( ; ) & it yy us i eae i