Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 173 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

out civilization ” do not prevail, and therefore to the credit of the men of Needle Bar be it recorded, the stranger was asked to drink ten — within the first half-hour of his ar- riv Seven of the ten drinks may be set down to the lady’s credit, for good-looking women were few and far between in Needle Bar. There were eight or ten of the sex among the two hundred and odd souls that made up the popu- lation of the town, but they were, nearly all. of them, of the rougher sort—those who had seen wild lite in its roughest phases and were ‘‘at home” in such a camp—acting as bar-tenders, waitresses, etc., etc.—not so thoroughly vicious or depraved as they were eager for excitement but were none the less a source of incessan trouble among the men who frequented the gambling resorts. And when the men of the town compared this Seger apparently innocent, and really beauti- lyoung lady with these female furies it al- most seemed to their fancy as if an angel hhow she came to be in company with such a ebaracter as the stranger. a different name; what then was the tie which pearl? He was a speculator—that was his “‘ platform every time,” and he had come to Needle Bar to look for a good opening to make a strike, and here he winked significantly at bis auditors. He was all business from the word go, but if there was any sharp in town who prided him- self upon flipping cards, he reckoned that, for fun, he would try and find out what kind of meat he was made of. Though rather inclined to be loud in talk, there was a certain something about the man— a look in his cold gray-green eyes, a peculiar contraction of his mouth, which to the observ- ant indicated that he could and would make his boasts good with deeds if needed. There were some *‘ few men in the town who oe ha keerds once in a while,” the landlord Ky urly sige Lynch, modestly admitted, and “aa he further added that he had no doubt some of . the * ye would accommodate Mr. Went- worth with a game if he was hankering to pas away the time. After supper was over Mr. Lynch volunteered to show the stranger round and introduce him the noted men of the town; the women in the dance-hall the landlord didn’t mention, but they tuok them in as a mat- . ter of course. All the sports were on tip-toe to see the new- eomer tackle some of the best card-players of the camp, for his vaunt had traveled quickly, and more than one sport was anxious to test the aes stranger’s metal. In two or three places room Wa had been made for him at the table, and the t's Sagres genius had politely intimated that if r) ao wanted to try his luck he was a. But with a good-natured grin he had declined the invitations. ‘‘Too much fire-water on . board to-night for business, gentlemen. I’m . ‘in for fun to-night; just seeing the sights and enjoying myself, and I’m an awful basb- ful too; wait until [ kinder get used ’ rie 6 to you a bit; then Pll take a whack at the “at animal.” ath Fairer couldn't be said, and the crowd voted Sea him “‘a brick of the first- water.” ; But the evil star of the stranger was in the ascencant that night, for the landlord was ee obliged te leave him to return to the hotel Bae alone. He wasin hands, though, enjoying the hospitalities of the best-known individual in _ the town, the Keno King, Keno Bill, who kept as the saloon, “‘ The Home of Alcibiades.” at It was but a short walk from Bill’s place to the hotel, and it was only a little after eleven o'clock, quite early for Needle Bar, when Jason Wentworth left the saloon and started for the hotel. He was one of those rare cases who could not possibly become drunk all over, no , matter how much liquor he imbibed. His walk was unsteady; his legs were completely under a 5 the influence of the strong drink which he had | taken; but his head was as clear and calm as though he had not iinbibed anything stronger than water. ‘** A nice little town; I reckon I will make the riffle here,” he muttered, as he passed through | the shadow cast by a shanty. At that moment oy de there was a peculiar sound in the air—a whirr, * ee as though a bird was on the wing, and then out | into the moonlight, @lutching, tearing at his throat in apparently fearful agony, stumbled the man. Down he went on his knees, only to fall backward as though pushed to earth by some invisible hand. A gurgling sound escaped from his throat, and then he lay still. A form stole from around the corner of the shanty, bent over the fallen man for a moment, _ then glided rapidly back and disappeared be- hind the old building, while in the silent night the great round mon stared down upon the white face of a death-stricken man. . No riffle would the sharp from afar make in — ' the camp of Needle Bar. connected the swaggering sharp with such a | a i ' ' } LLL ee ONIN — A CHAPTER II. THE HOME OF ALCIBIADES, In the mining region, down in the great South-west and on the line of semi-civilization that belts the frontier, the hotels and salooris are noted for their odd names. The odder the name the more popular the place, seems to.be - California John, the Pacific Thoroughbred. the theory of the proprietors of these houses of | refreshment for both man and beast, and on the frontier many of the men are much more like beasts than humans, Needle Bar was not behind its sister settle- ments in this respect, for three *‘ first-class” re- freshment places were there in the place, namely: the ‘‘Grand Central Hotel,” which aspired to receive and entertain all travelers; ‘The Home of Alcibiades,” kept by the Keno King, William Alcibiades, as he was pleased to term himself (but which name was received with derision and scorn by his fellow-citizens, to whom he was only Keno Bill, or the Keno | | | first lesson was always sufficient. Man or wo- man, the owner of the dance-house could hold his own with any pilgrim who ever set foot in Needle Bar. And now that the reader is acquainted with’ the three popular resorts which are destined to appear prominently in our story, we will pro- ceed to describe a scene which took place in Keno William’s place just about the same time that the vaunting stranger was meeting his fate at the hands of the silent and mysterious assas- sin in the one street of. Needle Bar, the cold moon the only other witness to the death- struggles of the assailed man. The keno-room was well filled; the boss him- self was presiding at the wheel of fortune— “*shaking ’em up” in obedience to the oft- repeated cry from some impatient and unlucky gambler, who fancied that if the urn was made to revolve violently upon its axis, thus more thoroughly mixing up the numbers inside, the King. In’ Bill’s resort was a well-stocked bar, | luck might change. but all the rest of the room was devoted to the straight from heaven had lighted down in The | fascinating game of keno, which, west of the Bar. It was a puzzle to these anxious souls | Mississippi, flourishes like a eye bay tree. Keno is nothing in the world but the old Ger- is wife she was | man game of lotto, so dear to childhood’s days. evidently not, nor his sister, either, for shé bore | It is played with cards, buttons and a revolving urn in which dice numbered from one to two or | ' ; ' | three hundred, according to the number of | players engaged in the game, are placed. The cards are divided into squares, irregular] numbered, and many of them blank. Eac player buys a card, paying so much for it; that money (less ten per cent., which goes to the dealer for his trouble), is the ‘ pool,” or ‘*pot.” The dealer draws a number from the | urn and calls it out aloud. Each has that number on his card imm a button on it; the pla row of numbers straight across his card wins the game. The moment this is done, the fortu- nate man immediately cries out, ‘*‘ Keno!” while the remainder of the players generally ejacu- late, ‘Oh, blazes!” Then the cards are bought over again and the game proceeds. Where the al- lurement of the game comes in is the certainty that some one of the players must win the pot, less the ten per cent., and as the pool, when the cards are eo at a dollar apiece, and there are twenty to forty playing, is pretty large, each player by inve: ting a dollar stands a chance to win from eighteen to thirty-six in return. Where the profit to the bank comes is the un- varying ten per cent. allowance, and it is sure to follow thataf ten men with ten dollars each layer who | iately puts | r who first covers one | ‘ ' | ‘ i ' ee sit down to play keno, and the bank takes ten | per cent out of each game, it doesn’t matter , who wins; in the end the bank will have the whole hundred dollars. The keno saloon did the best business in the town, for the game was ‘‘run on the square.” | There is cheating even at suchasimple game | as keno by collusion between thy dealer, the marker-down of the numbers called, and a con- federate pioneer ‘‘down to his uppers,” as the oes, had reason to bless the minute when he hrase Ea vebhed his last dollar on a keno card, and by | a lucky chance pappenne to strike a pot of twenty or thirty dollars was thereby enabled to fo on bis wa be as > he third and last public resort—noft includ- ing the miserable little dens that nestled like unclean things on the outskirts of the town— was ‘‘The Silver Hell.” This place disputed with Tne Home of Alcibiades for the patronage of The Bar. It was drinking-saloon, dance-house and gam- ing-house combined. The proprietor wasknown as Charley Yampas, a peculiar personage about whom there was a deal of mystery. He was a man, apparently, for he wore a man’s garb, and was tall and strong, yet he had the face of a woman. In complexionit was as red as the copper-colored skin of any ‘‘buck;” an ugly- looking scar extended. across the right cheek from the corner of the mouth to the eye, indi- cating that a fearful wound had once been in- flicted there, and this scar gave a decidedly savage expression to the face. The proprietor of The Silver Hell was a very quiet, reserv sort of person, rarely saying much, and when speaking always talking with a strong foreign accent. All that was known of him was tbat the name he bore was Charley, and he claimed to be an Indian of the Yampastribe. But this was utterly ridiculous, the wise men of the town declared, for no such head as he bore ever sat on a red-skih’s shoulders, He might be a half breed, but no full-blooded red buck. For a mans ted of being a woman in dis- guise to run such a place as The Silver Hell was really marvelous, for all such resorts attract, as their natural parons the most desperate and lawless men of the region wherein they are located, but the ‘ Big Chief,” as the proprietor of the place was usually called, had in at least twenty cases proved that if he possessed the face and some of the attributes of a woman, he had the strength of a giant, the courage of a lion and the skill of a soldier trained from boy- hood to the use of every weapon. No man, no matter how desperate, how reckless of life, or how maddened with liquor, ever cared to brave the anger of the Big Chief a second time. The | visit of such an individual. layer or players. Meny a hardy a ' | ed gr A new-comer in the town had made his.ap- arance in the room that night; no one there ad ever seen him before, ant how he had got into The Bar was a mystery. He had not ar- rived by the Californian coach, nor by the hack line from the East, both of which arrived dail and at about the same time, and there was ways a crowd of loungers around the Grand Central to gape at the passengers. The stran- ger, too, was a first-class passenger; no common man, prospecting miner or adventuring tramp who would be apt to “‘hoof it” into town. On the contrary he wasasharp of the first degree, dressed entirely in black, and wearing a ‘b’iled” shirt., No broadcloth suit, thongh, but one of black corduroy, almost as strong as leather and well fitted for rough work. After the Southern and Californian fashion, he wore no vest, and the bosom of hisshirt was ruffled in the most extraordinary manner. Around his waist a belt was girt, and the keen-sighted ones who “took stock” of the unknown saw that the belt supported two revolvers of the size known as “‘navy”—the best tools for des- perate work—and an eight-inch bowie-knifoe. The man had walked quietly into the saleom and no one had noticed him until he was inside; he had helped himself to a chair, sat down, a tilting the chair back so that he could rest against the wall quietly surveyed the players intent upon the game. **Keno!” had resounded throngh the room as a lucky soul put his button on tbe last num- ber, and then brought his big fist with a whaek re the table te give due emphasis to the peal of victory ; the chorus of curses from the rest of the players who had been “left” followed as a matter of course, and then, while preparations were going on for a new game, some one had discovered the presence of the stranger. Never had Needle Bar been honored by the Hoe was a repre- sentative of the old-time sporting man, now al- most extinct upon the Pacific coast. His dress of black, his ruffled shirt, in the bosom of which sparkled a little tiny diamond’stud; the smooth- ly-shaven face, a mustache and a, imperial alone adorning it—all to the knowing eye pro- claimed his trade as accurately as though he | carried it emblazoned on his breast. But, this stranger did not seem anxious to join in the game; he sat etly in his chair and contented himself with being merely ‘‘a looker-on in Vienna.” Alcibiades bad noticed the man and upon first glance had taken a dislike to him; something about the stranger excited his anger, although it would have troubled him to have told what ft was. Perhaps it was the cool, resolute-looking face of the man, or, maybe, the slightly sarcas- oy expression that certainly rested upon the ace, Now the Keno King, like a lion tipon its na- tive heath, brooked no rival near his domain, and, somehow, the unpleasant thought took pos- session of him that the unknown visitor might make trouble. Again the yell, ‘‘ Keno!” was heard, and this time it was a big mule-skinner from Hualpais who had *‘made the riffle!” The pot was a big one, too—over fifty dollars—and in the joy of his heart, the winner declared that every max in the room must take a drink with him. ‘Come and hev a ‘bowl!’ he yelled, “every doggoned man in the shanty, and the cuss ‘vot refuses is a sucker and a hoss-thief, and for twe cents I'll bu’st him wuss than a mule weul¢ a-fitin’ a base drum!” A\l filed up to the bar but the stranger. The mule skinner had his eye on the quie, man in black, whose bearing contrasted with, his Own disreputable appearance, which ag. avated him. : ‘* Will you drink, pilgrim?” he roared. “No, thank you; much obliged all the same, ? was the reply. ‘See hyer, man”—and out came a big reve- ver—‘‘ you hev either got to drink or ‘49 salted.” | CHAPTER III. SHOWING FIGHT. ‘* NEITHER the one nor the other,” replied ‘tie stranger, who, without a movement of his ce bale, Eboo ) e€om