Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 1092 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

She moved aside for him, as if the touch of ‘ his hand would be pollution, with the remark: “You have a singular code, sir. Had it been my case, I would have let the wretches die as eS they deserved. To be sure, it might have been dangerous to refuse.” Her last words were spoken with ap accent of scorn that showed she meant them in the most offensive sense; but he only smiled as he went past her, up to the room where the patient lay I - on bis bed, his face flushed with fever, his head tossing restlessly to and fro, while the mutter- | ing showed that he was not yet entirely sensible of what was going on round him. The young man stepped to the side of the bed, and asked Helen, who was sitting there: ‘¢ How long bas he been this way ?” “Since the trouble below began,” she said, in a whisper. ‘‘ At first he was puzzled; but, as 4 the firing grew heavy, he got excited, and began to wander. Do you think he is worse?” The doctor felt the pulse of the old man, and examined bim carefully before he answered. Then he said, very gravely: é “Yes he is worse. He must be kept quiet } : for the next day or two, and have the wet cloths to his bead all the time, What a pity you have no ice in Texas, . There is nothing else to do. but to wait for nature. The. noise bas retarded the cure; but there is no fatal symp- m.” . Here the old man opened his eyes, and ex- claimed, as be heard the last words: ‘““Who'’s there? Who’s there? Is that the doctor?” | Yes, air,” returned Field, soothingly. ‘‘ Keep a as quiet as you can. You have bad a fall, and ped must lie still fora time. That is all,” P x4 The old rancherStared at him, and asked him, ‘e/a : in a vaguely wondering tone: ie - Who are you? I don’t know you, sir.” — “JT am the new doctor,” said Field, quietly, with the air of authority that became him so well when he wasin the sick-chamber. “ You must lie still, and be as quiet as you can,” Ry 4 Then he turned to the young ladies, and a ‘‘He must be left alone in the dark as much » 5 as possible. Don’t talk to him, under any con- a sideration. Come this way, please.” They followed him, and the sick man, whose | brain was still in the dizzy state that follows a shock, ceased to look after them, and went to >. a sleep again. ' CHAPTER XII. HANK, THE NAILER, pp Sn | At the time that Berkeley and hig party rode rag | from the Collingsworth Ranch, there were two ae. gentlemen approaching that locality, who had been more fortunate than the other ranchers of Satanta county, in that they had escaped injury » from the famous fence that promised to bea nT oe | bone of such great contention in the county. om These gentlemen were “ Limpy” Balstrop, Att Sys and ‘Hank, the Nailer,” who being of more ee sedate ey regen than the other assistants at . the Lame Hog round-up, had ridden home from the colovel’s ranch at a walk, and were arrested by the fence in time to know what it was, and make an opening therein. * Their ponies had not beén hurt, Having stop- 2% =... ped in time, and yet these were the two men} Rae 2 who’ were the maddest of all, when they realized Th a that the fence had been put up by the cattle | company, to bar them out of the range of free prairie, where they bad been accustomed to let their cattle graze at large, evérsince they had tn been in Satanta county. | j | Hom fe The size of their claims was not enough to : herd all the cattle they.bad, in the shiftless Texan style of grazing, where there was never. a* any provision made for winter, and where the cattle roamed around as they willed, only re- | strained from getting out of sight of the range ae sae by the cowboys. i. ‘‘Limpy ” Balstrop, who had the largest herd . of ponies, having tried the experiment of horse- breeding, was especially alarmed at the erection of the fence; for he knew, from the direction it took, that it was meant to cut off the ranchers ; from the river, on which they depended for the Meo ' supply of water for their stock, ee rs) a the water-front was to lose the stock, ee in the dry summers of western, Texas, and es 2 Limpy knew that, as did Hank, the Nailer. oa They agreed to %o out to the “ Jedge’s” next day, and have a general consultation as to the Po ae means to get rid of the obnoxiousfence. When + xo the English overseer rade away from the ranch Sl of the old mao, they rode up to it. Seg They met Berkeley’s cavalcade on the way, and watched the appearance of the wounde man with grim satisfaction. They knew that he had been into a fight, and judged that it was on account of the fence. Only the fact that the numbers of the cattlo companys party greatly exceeded the force at a their own disposal, preveftted them from at- . tacking them at once; but there were twenty - -well-armed men, who were all recognized as old horse-thieves and desperadoes, in the cavalcade that followed the Englishman, Fo and the two friends thought tbat it would not ee SS. pay to get into-a fight, till they were sure they creas. On were on the winning side. om ~ Pe 7 “fs at ak “ eee eS yey ae .<¢ ee ~ a pat * a ae rf i “ * a ad 4 Me eye, eo tte . x “ RF 1.1 a ~ F . *. Dae > Pe 2 . * >) —— ss — "Fae © PTS Old Cross-Eye, the Maverick- eee eS 55000 0—_—0808000F—S——S— Tw —e——“—o—omwsemm "> Bo When they came up to the house, the first person they saw was the young doctor at the door, taking leave of the ladies; and, at *be sight of the man they bad thought buntea out of the county, the ire of Limpy was aroused; and, as soon as the door was shut, and the ladies out of sight, he rode up to Field, and said to bim notin, mp ‘‘So, young feller, you’re hyar again, air ye? Goin’ arter the jedge’s darters, when ye hain’t got the spunk of a man, to take keer of a woman. Now, look-a-byar.” As he spoke he put his hand to bis hip, and eyed the other raegensey Sa “T give ye jest one day to git out of this caounty fur good. Them gals is fur your bet- ters; d’ye hear? If I. ketch ye raound hyar again, I’ll shoot ye on sight.” Field’s face ‘nad paled slightly as he heard the threat, and the rancher noted it instantly, for he added, with a sneer: “Ye darned chicken-livered skunk! if it warn’t that *twould be a disgrace to kil! ye now, I sw’ar I’d shoot ye down like I would a as He Git!” ut, to the surprise of the rancher and his friend, Field answered:, ‘‘ Mr. Balstrop, have L ever injured you?” Limpy burst into‘a laugh ot ineffable con- seo ; “Injured me! YOU! Why, ye darned slab- sided galoot, if ye was ever to injure me, and I was to hyar on it, J’m darned ef I wouldn’t lick ye till ye squealed.” Field kept his calmness, very pale, as he answered: ‘Tam unarmed. I bave never hurt you in any manner, and I don’t see why you should try to pick a quarrel with me. I came here by accident, and have been taking care of the judge, who has been burt very seriously by a fall over a wire fence—” . ‘* Limpy burst in on him: ‘(What's that? The jedge hurt? What air you doin’ hyar, then!” ‘*T am a doctor,” was the reply; ‘‘ and I have to go where I am sent to help the injured. It is not fair to pick quarrels with me, bécause™l happened to come bere by accident. I put it to yourself, if it is the part of a brave man to go ares. insulting men who no not want to raw), though his face was words, that Hank the Nailer, who bad taken no tg in the bullying, nodded his head assenting- Y; and remarked: “The boy’s right, TAmpy: It ain’t the part of . man to be pickin’ on him all the time, Let m go. | ‘ But Limpy had heard the claim set up by the other and he retorted: “He says he’s a doctor, and old Horsford ain’t d ’ There ain’t no need for two doctors in the caounty. He’s got to git aout of it. I’m Horsford’s friend, andJsay it. The skunk’s got to git aout.” Then the spirit of the young man who had stood so much coarse abuse, woke up at last, and he said to Limpy steadily: “If you think to drive me from this place by threats, sir, you are mistaken, I am here to PAY, and J am going to do it.” . Limpy stared at bim as if a sheep had sud- | denly turned on him in anger. He was too muct astonished at first to say a word, When he had recovered bis coolness enough to speak, he roared savagely: ‘And I tell ye, ye’ve got to git! Dye hyar me, sir?” he He drew a pistol as he spoke, with the readi- ness of his class, and the young man before him threw open bis coat, and said simply: ‘*¢ Shoot then, and stamp yourself a coward. I am unarmed, ; The rancber was so much enraged that he was on the point of firing, when Hank, the Nailer, urged his pony between the men with the stern warns ‘‘None of that now, Limpy. You know me, If there’s any shootin’ to be done, J want a hand in it. This gentleman hain’t done nothen to you, and he ain’t armed. Ef ye want to fight im, he’s got to have a fair show.” Limpy put back his pistol sullenly, with the bitter remark: ‘‘Gawl darn him! that’s what I want; but the darned galoot won’t fight. Lend him a weepon.” Hank, the Nailer, at once turned to Field, with the courteous offer: ‘Look byar, sir, Limpy talks reasonable. Pl lend yer as food a pair of shootin’-irons as ever were handled by a man, and that shows I like ye. It ain’t often J lets a man handle my tools.’ Field shook his head with the frank admission: “Bas I have scruples against fighting a duel, and I never fired a pistol in my life, sir.” Hank stared at him for a moment in so much surprise that the éxpression of bis face was ac- tually ludicrous, ‘as he ejaculated: ‘“ Never fired a pistol in your life! Then what in blazes air ye doin’ in Texas ?” | Limpy Balstrop had listened to the astound- ing avowal, and burst out into a roar of laugh- , : * ¥ $ ee? - if ; hd : * bh ° ° 4 ’ : > & a4 . . 2 peg ay B= “ Bs * _ 4 os - 2 * a) pa 9 a . - . } ~ : - * Saas - f ye as id —" - ‘ ae 25 ; ee * 2 ar’ 7. a —)* << ae . » . e Wy 8 va >. ; ~e= ™ * heed @ ss. + * 7 ‘4 =) ee leat es ath fe ~*~ * : _~ Bs a a Hunter. quiet was his air, and so reasonable bis | ll ‘‘Doin’in Texas!” he roared. ..‘‘ Why, the darned fool came here to hunt bugs and crickets, I b’lieve. See byar, Hank, be ain’t wu’th the powder to blow him to blazes. Let’s git into the haouse. The ladies’j] know what’s the mat- ter with the jedge.” He rode away to the heuse, and Hank the Nailer, who was the quietest rancher of the neighborhood and perhaps the bravest, from the confidence he had in his skill with the pistol, which was really very wonderful, stayed bebind to say to Field, with an air of kindly advice that showed he meant it: ‘‘See hyar, sir; [don’t think you’re a coward, by no means. You've got the-stuff in ye some- where, and my advice to ye is to see that it comes out. You say you never fired a pistol? Well, the quicker ye l’arn to do it, tbe better it will be fur ye. A man ain’t, so to say, a man, in Texas, ef he can’t shoot. Whar was you brought up, ef I may ax?’ Field could not help a slight smile, as he an- swered: ; “Tam a Bostonian, sir, by birtb.” Hank the Nailer nodded bis head thoughtfully more than once, as he observed: + “ Waal, naow, I thought thar must be suthin’ that made ye soskeery. I see what it is naow. It’s the blood in ye. I’m different from some folks. I ain’t one of them b’lieves when a man comes from Boston he can’t never be medein a man, nohow. If you wanter Varn pistol- shootin’, 1 won’t say but what I mou’t teach ye a little myself, I sw’ar I hate to see the boys a-pickiv’?on ye all the time, and you so quiet and civil-spoken. Whar d’ye live naow?” Field colored, as he replied: ; ‘‘ Away off-on the borders of the Indian Ter- ritory—too far to accept your kindness. Iam . sincerely grateful to you, Mr. Kimble, for you are the only one in the whole’ crowd of these Texans who has treated me as a human being. I hate to quarrel. I would rather be thougbta coward than fight a duel and imbrue my hands in the blood of a feliow-creature, 1 only ask to be let alone, and it is bard that they persist in picking quarrels with me. I thought that my profession would be a protection to me; but it seems not. Good-day to you, sir.” He was riding away, when Hank called oyt after him, in a tone of good-humored warn- ing: “T tell ye what it is, sir; you’re too good fur Texas, and that’s what’s the matter. The prin. ciple’s all right, but it won't wash in Texas. Some day you'll find that aout, and then you'll ght. Field turned round in his saddle, and his face wore a singular expression, as he an- swered: . “Tf ever I do, sir, 1 am afraid I shall go as far the other way as I have in this. Good- by.” Then be galloped off, and Kimble went up to the door of the house, where he found his friend Limpy in close confab with old Chloe, who was retailing the news of the judge’s accident, with variations, and delighted with the way in which Limpy received it. — | The excited rancher was swear tug Srigitt way at every-sentence, anathematizing the company that bad set the fence and the men who worked for them, till his friend came up, when he said to the Nailer: = aa ‘That settles it, Hank. We've got to drive these cusses aout of «the wee: & or theyll drive us. I’m a-going to fetch the boys, and make a fight of it. They kin make aout we've stood al] we’re a-goin’ to stand.” % Hank Kimble asked for the young ladies, and was informed that they were up-stairs, in the sick-room, and could not be seen, which w rather discouraging for the two men, who ha ridden twenty miles that day for the express purpose of seeing them. = * -But as there was no resource but -to obey they went sorrowfully_away from the door, an Hank Kimble observed, as he rode on: “It’s a darned queer thing that gals are so hard to see, ain} it, Limpy? They’re allers a-fixin’ up tosee thé men, and never ready when ycu go in the middle of the day. I wish | hada wife. I’m tired of this sort of thing, and ef it don’t change I’m a-goin’ East to fetch mea gal from thar.” -Limpy, who had been buried ome. in thought, since he had been talking to Chloe, burst out all of a sudden, with the exclamation: ‘Jumpin’ Geehoshaphat, and cream-colored corn-cakes! Hank, d’ye know what 1 werea- thinkin’ of?’ ; : PBog How-in blazes should I know?’ asked ank. ‘‘ Waal, then, I tell ye what itis, That thar feller as calls bisself a doctor, is a-playin’ it on ‘‘ How so?” asked Hank, soberly. | “It’s my b’lief he ain’t no doctor at all, but only a hoss-thief, or suthin’ of that sort.” Hank turned round in his saddle to stare at the other, as be asked: “What in blazes makes ye say that, pard- ner?’ Texas as long as he has, and not know bow to fight. He’s a-playin’ off, and this doctor racket’s j { ' { ~ te q e ' — 4 — 4 tA ~ @ Ne oe, * 7 . . ad ; D4 N fe 4 - 3 7 - — ~-* 4°’ oe > + - i * . | 7 # e @ | : - 7 H ° > iy we = a . é + . s a » ~~ oar _ > -_ dl “Oe: : :™ a A Si | te, “ 5 s >) — >> i . . >, a - - Si a oo «5 °° oy — We Le ae eA gs a*a ~~ a “+> « . ; oe . ‘=-;- < ‘ be