Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 229 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

18 Captain Cutsleeve. about time to retire? You ain’t doin’ much | of patrons, though the game was young and the ood in this burg anyhow, an’ they’re a-lookin’ ) yer—three er four bad men, what blows the’r bugles an’ stand up az chiefs.” ‘Ob, yes; I had some of ’em in here last night. I’m a chief myself, when I mount the war-path;so don’t you be afraid that I’ll come } | to grief, but just you point out some of these | cantankerous catamounts when they come Ca- vorting areund, I'll bet they all belong to one ang. . AN right, if yer want ter git on it; an’ Il s*pose yer won’t take it b d that I’ve gi’n yer ‘ - warnin’, It don’t exactly do fur me ter take | sides with every stranger that comes ed Sa . in. Ther boys ’u’d mighty soon mount me. But when I see ther’ ain’t goin’ ter be a fair shake, an’ thet they’re buttin’ ag’in’ bim a ton to ther pound, ef he’s in 4 house | give bim fair warnin’ an’ a squar’ show ter jump ther camp. Arter that it ain’t my put.” ‘““That’s all right, litthke man, only these Hooshers don’t pan out balf as much fun as you think when they have a man tw handle. I'm Touch-Me Not, the Delicate, and when they stir ; rede, they wake acyclone. That will do; da- a! He waved his hand airily, and then passed on to join Gouger, who was beckoning to him from the door. The tougt from Shasta spoke in some excite- ment: “Sav, ding-blast my ole top knot, but it ain’t . mean’ Huckleberry no more. My ole pard hez gone back on me.” . “Scarcely; he’s a rough one, but he don’t look like that kind.” fe ~ T dunno what yer call it, but that’s what it leoks like. He’s sold out root an’ branch, good- . will an’ fixtur’s, an’ tuk a job ov work at ther Slap Jack.” **Gord enough! That pard of yours can see as far into a stone-wall as the next man, and be > x knows just where to butt it. How did he es get in?” | ** Oh, it war more luck ner jedgement. Thar war a leetle row at Black Charley’s while we wer in ther mount’ins, an’, ov course, Huckle- ) berry war thar. He mopped the floor up, ac- f. cordin’ ter his usu’l style, an’ er man axed him . who his pards waz, an’ whar they were. ‘Over ther range,’ sez Huckleberry. ‘|l’m me own pard, an’ er sinner on wheels. So arter a bit ther man offered him big wages at ther Slap oe Jack, an’ he picked up his coat an’ went, Pi Tnat’s what I heered, an’ it made me r’ar.” | ‘* Don’t fret yourself about Huckleberry. He is very sound on the goose-egg controversy. If = take care you can have a chance to see him the morning. There couldn’t be a better _ man te bave there. Hs is one of the kind that _ don’s say much; but when you want him he’s always around.” ** You bet,” said Gouger, with such a perfect imitation of the missing man that Touch-Me- _--—- Not was compelled to smile. ! =H ‘Come on, now. It is time for the mena- _ --—s gerie te be fed, and I have such an appetite ” ae at I believe I could digest a grindstone.’ BP After supper Gouger, who even yet did vot a thoroughly understand his new par'd, proposed Halt that they shoul 1 take a turn around town. - “Et Huckleberry war ’round I*dunno ez I'd keer ter count yer in, fur l’ve an ideur you an’ me ain’t prezictiy used ter workin’ on ther same level; but things hez bin on er dead stand fur forty-eight hour er so, an’ I’m jist a-dyin’ a: fur fun. . Prom all accounts you'll get it if you start out with me in tow; but I occasionally have such vague longings myself, and it would a sbame to spoil sport. They sav Black Charley’s is lively; we'll roam around there, and you ean look for a hundred and forty pounds to the square inch. But don’t shoot till I give the word,” Fs With this solemn injunction Touch-Me-Not * Jed the way out into the street. and the two Piss 6 started for Back Charley’s. For a wonder s Billy Bender was vot around, when he migit have been taken in tow, but it was likely that she would turn up in the course of the evening, --—- thongh Touch Me-Not began to doubt if his ty Sos ae would be any the looser. Black Cuarley’s Ranch was like Johnny Good- ‘Man ’s, only more so. For the size of the camp . —arnd if was not such a small one either—it was surprising bow many men there were to go out on the racket. They had looked into The Bliz gard as they went along, and found it full and et — a Ld ws : booming; but the Ranch was just running over. — When Touch-Me-Not threw open the door and wee in tripped in, followed by the ponderous Gouger, a there were so many in the room, following their —- Fespecitive avocations, or taking their favorite recreations, that no one appeared to notice the ~-- eatrance of the two, who proceeded to sample _ the decoctions at the bar, and then quietly / found places at the side of the room, ae They played caris sometimes at Johnny ; -Goodman’s; but this place was a perfect pande- Tk jean moniug. 4) Everything was going on. There were three er four tables at which were seated, with glasses _ beside them, poker and seven-up players. Then there was a faro spread that claimed its share / -' © ,. ‘ ‘ * P Ba? _ a E betters shy. In another corner was a four-card monte man, with a scow) on his dark, hungry face, as he watched his little lay-out, and the fingers of his countrymen, who were adepts at cbeck-charming as well as at the grizzly. Prob- ably in another corner, lurked the man with the strap-game, or pick-a-loop, though be could bardly expect many victims among the patrons of the Ranch. Touch-Me-Not sat by himself, just at the cor- ner of the room, while Gouger bad a more een- tral location, where he could wateb the tiger fleshing and unfleshing bis claws. The talons, by the way, were visible the most of the time, for the bank, which was backed by Black Charley’s capital, had the run, which was prob- ably the reason why so few cared to tackle the king of the jungle. ‘* It’s a square game without a limit!” said the dealer, looking persuasively in the direction of the young sportipn thecorner. ‘‘ We win about as often as we lose, and we lose twice to where we win once, and make a living tending a quartz- crusher in the daytime. It’s just fun for the boys that win often. The lucky man that kin break this- bank on the turn is somewhere about, I feel itin my bones, but he won’t know if he don’t bet.” CHAPTER XXVIIL LIGHTING A MATCH, THE words of the dealer were almost a chal- lenge. Touch-Me-Not looked up with a twinkle in his eyes, Such a peroration generally— at leasi in his experience—betokened a “ fifty-three deck,” a ‘spring box, "and the vsual complement of ‘* hollows and rounds.” And yet he was some- times willing to play against al) of those, He moved agent dane uneasily in bis seat, but before he could decide to rise, a noise of struggling at the door attracted bis attention. couple of his friends were just as bent on keep- ing bim out. ‘* Ob, come on, Billy. This heur shebang are whar ther shootists bang out. You'll bev a chance fur a rip-snortin blow-out thar; but heur the’r’ all on ther pastehoards,” ‘‘Lemme go! 1 tell yer, I’m Leetle Billy, an’ death on ther shoot. I’m goin’ to show ’em what a white man kin do, w’ot’s ready ter plug fur blood an’ ba’r. Oh, I’m ther infantile terror ov ther West, ther ontemed, holf-sized cater- mount ov the Rockies. Ther genooine, onder- vided half ov er new-born airtbhquake, en’ when I crook me finger, suthin’ drops Youhear me, say? I’m comin’, Wahoop, Who’s got duck- ats ter put up that I can’t take ther girths right off’n him, eyes shut er eyes open, back-handed, onder ther legs, er a straight pullaz’ plug. I'll shoot any man in ther house fur luv, biocd, er money; but money’s my best holt, every time.” The struggling cea-ed, The man stcod on the threshold just loug enovgh to bave bis defiance heard and digested by every man in the house; and then the challenger came tum- bling in. Little Billy was not as tall as a church steeple, nor as heavy as a mule’s hinder end— perbaps—but he was a straight, well formed six footer, who looked as though he had imbibed just enough benzine to eccount for bis utter recklessness, without ce troying bis ability to give a very good account of himself, if there was anything in him, and the black eyes that glared through the mop of bair on his face were resolute to viciousness, ‘‘T don’t come cff’en; but when I do I jest shake this ole burg up fur all that’s out. Ef ther’s ary man ez knows whur I'm from let bim waltz up ter ther heodle o’ this gin-milb an’ | turn in about er quart o’ benzine with me; then | we'll kim down ter biz. Black Charley’s a good man, a blamed geod man, aw he won't go back on Little Billy when he’s cut on ther tear.” Black Charley nodded as though be bad seen infantile William before, and was willing that he should have bis own way, while three or four men rolled up from different parts of the room with extended paws, ‘*Good fur you, Bill; we’re dyin’ fur fun.” i. But don’t give us er fun’ral ef yer kin help it, ‘‘Histe it in, Bill. Ther more bug-juice yer kin stow away ther better yer bits ther bull’s- eye. We know ver ov o'd.” Some shook hands; others, disdaining the | ceremony, seized tumblers, and Black Charley, who was behind the bar, set down the two decanters under the looking-glass, with a flourish. ‘* Ain’t there nobody else w’ot knows whar I live? Ef thar air, an’ be don’t kim up ter ther milk ov luvin’ kindness what Charley slings, PU hey me eyes on him an’ snatch him bald-headed. It’s drink er fout when Little Billy’s on ther rounds,” It happened that his eves fell full on Tom Gouger as he spoke. ‘Tbe Death Sbot of Shasta had been watching him with interest. “T kinder wish Huckleberry war ’round,” he muttered to bimself, aud then rising, he walked straight toward the bar. man seemed bent upon coming in; while a) no good. We'll goon to tber Buzzard. That's | blamed ef I jist remember ” ily, placing bimself divectly Gouger’s way. ‘' You sure you know me?” “You bet. Yer A. Shooter, from Shbuters- ville; an’ ’m yer fust cousin. I ain’t very d anyhow, but I thought sooner’n you should starve, I’d go in.” ‘* Yer got me tbat time. Hit her five fingers, an’ then gi’n her another lick. Ther’ ain’t nobody ez will kick. But I’d like ter hev yer handle, fur I bet ye’r’ a chief.” : ‘Tom Gouger, ther Death-Shot ov Shasta’s what they ginner’lly call me; but I can’t do notbin’ with ther irops just now; I’m sorter moultin’-like, an’ under jher weather. But you are a screamer I kin tell by yer looks. Fact are, pard, I jist froze right enter yer, the minit I see’d yer. ‘Thar’s ther pard,’ sez I, ‘ez kin lay right over yer. Huckleberry orter be yer. Gouger had got rid of his boisterous tones, and offensive style on the very shortest of notices; and was feeling around as carefully as if he was handling a newly-born infant, ‘But ye’r’ ashuter? Good enuf! 1 never let one siide ’thout hevin’a pull at bis ha’r. Git down yer benzine an’ come fur me.” | ‘Ob, I ain’t much ov a shooter,” responded | Gouger, modestly ; ** but I allus reckon ter kerry | my end,” **Hyer’s duckats, then. can’t come nigh my pattern. dar’.””’ With a resounding whack he plastered a fifty- dollar gold-piece down on the bar and then, with arms akimbo, and a provoking leer on his face, he stood watching Gouger, who produced | bis buckskin with a show of hesitation. , ‘*7T mout reesk it fur three shots; but I couldn’t rege agin’ yerallday. 1 git tired in the arms, ike,’ ‘*That’s ther way ter talk it!” exclaimed Lit- tle billy, with an air of triumph. ‘‘ Now ef yer got ary pard beur trot bim out. You'll need him afcre ther cirkiss ar’ over.” ‘‘Nary pard hev I got; but I reckon I kin pick one up ter hold ther candle. But ther sooner we git ter work, ther sooner I’ hey my buckskin empty.” ‘“That—an’ suthin’ else,” answered Billy, darkly as he turned to Black Charley, That individual did not seem altogether pleased. This irruption had already broken up a number of the games. Some jumped the play and went bome, others crowded up to see the sport, while other loungers quietly igi oer « Touch Me-Not heard two of the latter speaking together as they gathered themselves for de- pariure, | ‘‘ He don’t come often; but never know’d Lee~ tle Billy to strike ther Guleb that he didn’t stir /upther annimiles. He killed three men ther last time,” ‘* Yes, sirree; an’ outsiders git hurt. He’s a whaler on wheels but I don’t keer ter see him spin. I war thar once.” By the time the two had departed the prepa- rations for the trial of skill were completed. A copneciing door to an additional room was thrown open, and that gave a range of some twenty yards, ‘*T dunno what yer like, but I'll sample yer with sutbin’ er leetle eazy like,” said Little Billy, after a whispered conference with a pard. The latter went to the further end of the range and pinned up two cards almost side by | | “See hyar said Little B — a ee ES SS Thar’s a slug yer Kiver it ef yer ee eee SS ——EEee side, placing a Jamp near them. Then, Billy step deliberation fired five shots. four clipped a corner of one the fifth sent home the oak the card fluttered to the floor. probation arose from the crowd. ‘‘Purty fa’r,” said Gouger, in a wavering voice. “Say, yer wouldn’t mind givin’ me er few sbots fur practice, ef they dou’t count? I ain’t used ter ther light byar, an | tole yer 1 war moultin’.” “Take er dozen; but when yer begins yer must keep right erlong.” Gouger paced the distance to the opposite wall, leoked gravely at bis card, and then de- liberately hammered another tack in an inch or so above the first. Then be came back and took bis station. ‘*Hyar goes fur fun!” He raised his pistol and fired six shots, Thea first one drove the tack just inserted, and the re- | meining five cut a perfect ring around the bole, d forward and with some Each of the first of the cards, and that held it, while A shout of ap- er “Tt ar’ all hunky-durky, ez me ole side-pard, Red Bear used ter say. Now, byar goes fur | Keeps.’ | As he spoke he flung up bis left hand, and one | corner of the card flew; he turned and bent | backward, as though bending a crab, ard away | flew ariother; he stooped, and aiming to the rear between his legs, clipped the tbird; the fourth went from a shot from under bis knee, which was sighted above it. Then he drew from his pocket a little mirror, and holding it up, fired te the rear and drove the tack. ‘* Whoop!” shouted Gouger, suddenly letting himself out after his old style. ‘“*Tbey say I’m a blower, but V’ll be ding-blasted ef I can’t | shute!” and he executed a war dance that made the floor shake, Eomichoo (E S ei