Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 1092 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

f ae Lal ALY as y - NT <pehy, str 7 oes 7 >. os . Le “) tl a a, 7 es - 7. - . J a. a ee eS FRI Bieter § 4 OES - —— a > , ort me on Me nn eR A et Be. oy only a blind | trail to throw us off the real thing. If le’u'd only ketch him at it, far onst— Han Kimble, it ain’t nateral fur that feller to be arter them gals fur nothen. He’s a good-lookin’ feller enough, and he kin talk astreak, and they seen him when they wouldn’t see us. I tell ye, thar’s suthin’ in all this, that ain’t reg’lar. When he war hyar, afore, he were nothen but a cowboy, without a cent to bless himself with; and now they say he’s a doctor. It’s my ’pinion he’s a hoss-thief,” CHAPTER XIII. TOM FIELD'S STORY. Outp Cross-Eye, the Maverick-Hunter, was sitting at the door of his jacal, away off by the borders of the ve Territory, in the midst of a solitude as complete as when the first settlers came into the State, though there was not the same amount of unoccupied land as then, His friend had left bim alone to go tu Satans- town, and the old man did not know when he was coming bick, Old Cross Eye was reading froma book, as he sat. The book wasold and thumb-worn, as if it had often been consulted, and the binding was of the brown sheepskin that is only seen on Bibles and old-fashioned schoolbooks nowadays, cloth having displaced the old style, from its cheapness. Jt was a Bible that the old man was reading, as he sat there in the sunset: for be was de- voutly inclined, In the solitude of his distant ranch, the work was so much less than on an open range, from the natural corral he had found there and improved, that he had much time on his hands, but had nothing in the place _ to read save this Bible, and some Latin books that were never opened by bim, for the very good reason that he did not understand the lan- guage, The books themselves belonged to bis partner, Tom Field. ’ That evening was about three days after the time when Limpy Balstrop bad declared to Hank the Nailer that the strange young man was a horse-thief, in his opinion; and Old Cross- - Eye was getting uneasy about the «bsence of gu - they’re gettin’ b’isted out of the land that used bis young partner, for Tom bad promised to be back that day; and now it was sunset, The ounger man had been sent because the old man knew the ranchers would feel very bitter to- ward himself on account of the trick by which he had enticed the herd of Mavericks off the land of the Collingsworth range, and they did not know of Tom as being his partner, while the youog man’s face was almost unknown, or, if known, forgotten, in the town itself. | Tom bad gone there with some money that had been brought by the sale of the surplus stock of the ranch to the chiefs of the Indian country soon after the time when they received their regular annuities, ; The good terms on which Tom Field had man- aged to put bimself with the Indians at the res- ervation bad served them a good turn, for the. Indians of the territory are by no means poor, and the man who can trade with them, with or without the sanction of the Government, as as he does not get turned out, is sure to reap large profits. Thesale of their stock had been arranged by Tom the verwday after the Indians had come down and kelped themselves to the bullocks. The old man was muttering to himself, as he sat at the door of the jacal: | a ‘It’s cur’ue what a deal of human nater there is in this here bowk, when ye come to look at it. em old Jews was just like tae Yanks, These dians is like the Canaanites; and, by gum, to be theirn, jest aboutas fast as the Hivites and Jebusites got out of the promised land. They got no business to stay anyhow. We're the Lord’s people, and they’re the heathen. Tom’s got alot of heathen notions about him; but I must say he did well, in that trade with the me mi We'll save all the stores we want, if he don’t git jumped on, in Satanstown. Cur’- ous how that mie! to fight. Reckon be’ll Yarn someday. Not tbat I’m overly fond of n’ self. Them poor crooked eyes of ain’. the things fur to shoot with, and the less shootin’ there is, the better I like it. But where the dickens kin Tom have gone to? He ought to have been here in the mornin’, and here it is, ’most sundown.” Old Cross-Eye rose and saddled his pony, to take a ride on the prairie and look for bis _— vent partner; but, as be was emerging from the corral, he saw the well-known figure comin over the green grass, and saw that Tom was fol-) iowed by a string of mules, loaded with pack- as. ‘ t “er he young man was all alote, and looked tired and worried with his long ride; for he had driven the mules all the way from Satanstown, a distance of fifty miles, straight on end, Old Cross-Eye rode up to him, and greeted him: Jae ie ‘What's kep’ ye, all day, Tommy, boy?” he asked, in the kindly tone be always used to the oung man. fo Nope and ext, b fore [talk. Wil not think me rude?” as he answered: and I want to rest you excuse me, and : A ' 4 '.% v a % : aT, 4 , . &, \ og he oe re Ae yO PT ly ‘ _* ad . LAs 7 he oe DBS so wad « 4 & > a) ed o - ¥1 % Laie a . . a _* - : ‘ rg. * Pp eee ae RF oe al > Pw Pe af* . “ ni ee ee eee ter ee ee a The old man saw that the younger one was speaking the truth when he said that be was tired out; for the expression of his face showed it. He-took the halter line of the leading mule from the hand of bis partner, and said: ‘You go to the hut, and eat what ye find there. I got yer grub ready fur ye, whenever yecome, Fl take keer of the mules.” Tom rode away to the but, and found, as Old Cross Eye had said, that he bad prepared a meal of corn bread and venison, on which the younger man appeased his hunger. When Old Cross-Eye came in, a little later, and began to bestow the packages and sacks of the mule-loads in their appropriate places, Tom said to bim: ‘‘ Thank you very much, Jake, I feel better. As soon as’ you are ready, | will tell you all” that has happened since I was away.” The old man made no answer till he had straightened out matters. When it was all finished, and he had lighted his pipe, he said to Tom: ‘* Now then, boy, go ahead. What’s hap- pened to ye?” Tom began his story at once: ‘‘In the first place, when I went. down to Satanstown, I was so near the Collingsworth Raneh, that I could not help taking a ride over there, to see one or two of my old friends, that bad been herdsmen at the time when 1 was there. You know they treated me very well. It wasthe ranchers that were down on me, because they saw that I was.treat«dasa buman being by the judge's family. Toere wasShorty Jim Benton, you know, and the rest of the bovs. I was positively fond of some of them,” Old Cross-Eve listened to bim without offer- ing any remarks, till Tom stopped, as if he ex- pected the other to say something, when the old man observed in the driest of tones; ‘Waal, so ye vent up there to see Shorty? Didn’t see no one else, T'reckon; did ye? Tom colored slightly as he answered: “ Well—yes—I did.” “T ought so,” was the dry interjection, Tom, without noticing it, went on: ‘“Yes, it so happened that | went there, ata very strange time, You know that cattle com- pany that we talked about—” “Yes.” interrupted O!d Cross-Eye eagerly. ‘¢ Has the trouble begun yet?” “It bas. When I went to the ranch, I was nearly getting my horse lamed and myself burt by a wire-fence, that had been pub up there, across the whole line of ranges, between them and the river. It was tvat borrible barbed wire, that bas a point every few inch and the pony nearly run on it, in the dark. was riding at a walk at the time, or tbe fall would bave been bad. As it was, the horse stopped in time, and I found out wb ak the matter. That very night, there were several accidents from that same wire, and among the rest Judge Collingsworth was bur. The men at the ranch told me of it, and Shorty took a message from me to the young ladies, offering my services to their father.” Old Cross Eye stared at him. | ‘Yer sarvices? ~Fur what? Ye couldn’t elp the old man; could ye?” om seemed to be slightly embarrassed as hé ‘ ' “ Well, that has never come up in our talks, but then we are neither of us curious men, You did not know that lam a graduate of a medi- cal college?” Old Cross-Eye took his as if he was about to spea ging nis shoulders, as be remarked: ‘No, I didn’t. Go ahead.” ‘‘ The fact is,” went on Tom, as if he wanted to get it off his mind, ‘‘ you and I are the same sort of men, We mind our own business, and leave other men to take care of their own. never asked you any questions about your past hfe; and you have respected mine, Jake, it’s time we made a clean breast.of it to each other, You don’t know why I came to Texas. I'll tell you now, and then you will understand all. I pipe from bis mouth, , but ended in sbrug- b was at college, when trouble overtook my} warn’t, t worked at family. I woke up, one morning, to find that I wasa beggar, and my father a suicide. all thought be was rich, but when his affairs were examined, by the executors of his will, it was found that be bad been hving on credit, and that his debts were more in amount than bis assets. My mother bad died long before that. Thank God, sbe never knew what was ® coming, I _just fifty dollars left, in the world, when they had settled up the estate of father; and I bad no idea what to do. I could not set up as a doctor in my native town, because I had no capital to live on, and I was advised to go West and grow up with the coun- try. I came to Texas, by working my passage on a schooner to Galveston, from the North, and found that the only way 1 could earn a living, was, to hire out as a cowboy.” “ And pretty tough ye found that,” remarked the old man dryly. ‘You say truly, I liked it at first, till the people at the Collingsworth Ranch found out that I wasa man of education, and the judge began to make much of me. Then the ranchers began to persecute me, and ; i'w - 5 * a : hn ‘ >= - 9 - , _ * _* 9 Ps b ire | * Cal i bs o < Old Cross-Eye, the Maverick-Hunter. burden. I went away from there, and wan- dered about till I met you, You were the only man in Texas that ever gave me a civil word, except the poor cowboys; and | hired with you, as you know, as a sbarer in the profits of this place, Butall the time, I have bad it in my mind to start as a doctor, some day; and I kept up an acquaintance with Dr, Horsford, at Sa- tanstown, He was just going away to attend the state medical convention when [ got to Sa- tanstown, on this last trip, and I saw him, as he was going. He asked me if I would look after bis patients while be was gone, and I said I would, of course. He wastop2v me. Well, , that was how I came to go to the Collingsworth Ranch, and did my duty there. I believe I saved the life of the judge; and yet—would you believe it?—when; bis friends, those ranchers that vend to persecute me, found I was there, they tried to pick quarrels with me, and insult- ed me in every possible way, so that, on the third day, I had to leave the case in Horsford’s hands, when be came back, and come. away; with, the satisfaction of knowing that they fancied they had driven me away again, as they did before. Jake, Jake, what am 1 to do? Teannot livein this way forever. My blood boils at the indignities that they have put upon me; but I cannot become a despetado, like the rest ofthem. It is against all my early instincts, 1 never killed so much as a deer yet.” ‘‘No,” interrupted Old Cross-Eye; ‘‘ ye lerve me to do all the shootin’, though ye know | ain’t much of a shot, with these eyes of mine, If I badn’t Varned all about the places to find the deer, Tom, there’s Many the time we’d had to go buogry. Tell ye what it is; yeve got to make achange. A man in Texas can’t get on, without be shoots, ‘You come here the quietest of lambs, but _ you’re a-gettin’ riled at last. Iain’t so sorry fur it, boy. You’re a-comin’ to if, You'd make a rip-tearin’ shooter if ye wanted; fur ye. have the eye, and I hain’t, Ye ain’t no weak- lin’, nuther.” ‘“No,” was the rather proud réply. “I was called the best general athlete in my class. think T could shoot, if I was to try. But then to kill a man—that is what hurts n Jake, Mv mission is to save life, not to take’ Old Cross-Eye curled his lip, as he retorted: ‘Ye don’t s’pose that, cause ye go and l’arn to shoot, ye’re sure to kill yer man every time, do ye? Why, I’ve see’d men that thought they e'u’d shoot, come from the East, some place they call Creedmoor, and they warn’t nowbere, here. That kinder shootin’ ain’t what’s wanted in Texas, . A man’s got to shoot quick, here, or be don’t get a chance to cock his wee- pin. If you wanter l’arn to shoot, it’s high time ye begun,” - Tem colored deeply, as he said: - “To tell you the truth, I bought 8 pair of pis- tols at Satanstown. | —_—_—_—_— |. CHAPTER XIV. | OLD CROSS EYE'S STORY. 7 WueEn Old Cross-Eye heard the words of h ip nht he smiled as one well pleased, as he e said; | ; eed know'd it were a-comin’, boy and I’m glad it’scome. If I was the man on’st was I should say, £0 in and shoot all the men that’s b’en a pickin’ on ye; but I ain’t, I ain’t, and I’m thankfullain’t.” | ‘Why, whatdo you mean?” asked the other, he saw, from something in the old man’s face, that he wisbed to be questioned. ld Cross-Eye sighed, as he answered; “Turn about’s fair play, boy; and yon’ve told me Ege story, without my axin’ ye, Now ye shall hear mine, and tell me what ye think on it. , Tom, much plessed at the idea—for he had long had a curiosity as to what bad driven bis friend into the wilderness — settled himself into an attentive attitude, and Old Cross-Eye began: “ You w rought up to college, ye say. I the sbosmalien's: trade, when I was a boy, and1 might bave b’en there yit, if it badn’t ba’ b’en that got married.” The words ‘I got married ™ seemed to have a signe effect on the old man, . : n as he had uttered them, for be stopped abruptly, as:if be half regretted that he had begun the story, and it was nearly a minute before be conti 3 at Sen I said I'd tell ye, and a-goin’ to do it. I was married, and thought, like a fool as I were, that a’man like me, with the hand of God laid on him from bis birth, could get 4 band- some gal, to love bim true, when sbe bad 4 chance to do better. Iwas a fool there, boy and I knowed it when it were too late. My Mattie were as pretty as a picter, and! hada nice house in place where we lived, I thought we was gol to be bappy, and we was at fust. Then come a Dee when I seen it warn’t the same witb her,as it had b’en, and the story come to me, that Mattie had had a beau, afore ever I axed her. And this beau was a handsome feller, too—a man Of the name of Tomlinson.” ; ie se 4 % . 4 : ‘e A ° e j / ‘a ~ ‘ es . . : ; . - : . * ; 4 XN “ ; 1 4 ' YY ~ = “~ ‘. ye ~ - 4, te ‘5. )*)” 5 7. ~ > 4 = an , ¥. 9f# J a 4 * Pe = wre ee ; ->* : % sar , 4 s e ; 4 a . y . . - - - | . a > - _.. ™ +i s Ny = 7 “What name did you say?” asked Tom, i waa my life was made a denly. ) Ue | Ty aha) heel a A eat et mt eS : : ’ 4s)