Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 241 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

“ad / —— _—— oe —_—— --— ee — Almost circular in shape, its diameter was something over a quarter of a mile, while its nearly level bottom was full fifty feet below the surrounding level. Its walls were very nearly rpendicular, and the sink could be entered or eft at only two points, where the hand of man had plainly aided nature in shaping steep, wind- ing trails, by means of which the desert above could be reached. In the center of the sink stood a small but deep pond, fed by never-failing springs. Around this the grass grew thick and richly, while cot- tonwood trees lent a grateful shade, all the more dense from being close-trimmed at the top, causing them to branch out more freely. Not for this reason alone, however, had the tops been lopped off; rather to prevent them from showing above the edge of the sink, and with their green foliage warning the thirsty wan- derer that near their roots might be found water in abundance. Built against one side of the sink, was a large house of sunburnt bricks, only one story in hight, profusely loop-holed for dolanats the roof of which was covered thick with growing shrubs, rooted in the heavy coating of earth. Climbing vines covered the sides of the building, so that it could hardly be recognized as suc from the level above, A better lurking-place could scarcely have been contrived, for a thousand men might have passed the sink by within a buadred yards with- out once suspecting its existence, so level was the desert clear to the very edge of the depres- on. On this day though, such passers by would have been given a more certain clew, in the guise of loud, excited and angry voices coming rom the bottom of the sink. Early that morning, one of the Rustlers had brought in startling tidings, relating to their captured chief. He told of dark threats and busy preparation, all of which centered around Spitfire Saul. In his spyings he had learned the meaning of this: that a mob was forming to take King Saul out of jail, and hang him; but he had not dared wait for more. A secret friend warned him that he was suspected of a danger- ous interest in the case, and that it was already suggested that he be added to the neck-tie festi- val. As he could do nothing alone, he watched his chance, and fled to bearthe news. None too soon, for he had barely cleared the town, when he heard the music begin for the death-dance. For a few minutes nothing was heard save curses and threats against the lynchers; but then came a change. If King Saul was dead, the Rustlers were without a head. Some one must put on his shoes; who should it be? Not a man among them all but felt himself amply able to wear them, with honor to him- self, and profit to all, but at the same time, they knew that the final choice must lay between two men: the youngest and the oldest of the company thgn present. - Ef you critters hes palavered enough, le’s git down to solid business,” impatiently cried one of the party. ‘‘Ef it’s too late to save the old boss, it ain’t too late fer to git evcn with the p’izen cusses as sent him over the range. We cain’t do nothin’ without a chief, an’ so I nomer- nates Lofty Dick as the best man to fill King Saul’s shoes!” A brief silence—then a few cheers; in the midst of which a tall, crooked fellow croaked forth an amendment: ‘The boy’s good enough, that we all know. He’s done red-hot work at close quarters, and a man couldn’t ax a better backer fer a tight rub, But at the same time, I reckon he’s got too much git thar ’bout bim fer ther posish, It calls fer a man who kin keep a cool head when it’s rainin’ fire and brimstone. Sech a man was King Saul, an’ jest sech another I perpose shell take bis place; which his han’le is Buffalo Red, Them as seconds my motion, speak your little pieces!” Oma, Cheers from those who had maintained silence when the first name was proposed. Silence among those who had then expressed their satis- faction, and the two parties instinctively sepa- Se each with their chosen leader at their Lofty Dick bad not been dubbed thus, from his extraordinary altitude of person, He was barely up to the average of his sex, slender, seemingly frail in build, with the hands, feet, waist, volee and complexion of a woman. As he stood there, he looked like some society darling in a masquerading suit, rather than one of the hottest and swiftest fighters on the southwestern border. His garb was that of a Mexican ranchero of the richest class, made of the finest material, silk and broadcloath, a hittle pa in colors, perhaps, but fitting his trim, graceful figure to rfection. From beneath his low-crowned, ad-brimmed sombrero, golden curls fell over his shoulders. His eyes were large, of the deepest blue, and were full of expression. His was marvelously fair and smooth. A slight mustache shaded without concealing the red, arched lips which, with the small, even teeth, white as milk, a society belle might well have envied. Very different in outward appearance was ~ Spitfire Saul, King of the Rustlers. the man called Buffalo Red. Tall and massive- ly built, he stooped so much that he had almost the appearance of being humpbacked. His florid face was nearly lost to view amid a rough, bristling forest of hair, once bright red, but now of a peculiar foxy hue, from the frosty touch of time. His hands and feet were enor- mous; his legs widely bowed, as though from too much early riding; his voice harsh and dis- agreeable, His merits, viewed from Rustler stand-point, were an indomitable courage, tempered with a cool brain and keen wits, which told him when it was better to run than to fight; great skill with his weapons, and thorough devotion to his comrades, more than one of whom he had saved from death by risking his own life, when others had abandoned them, As the two parties separated, the first thought of all was to count their respective numbers, which resulted in disappointment for both, as they proved to be exactly the same: eleven on each side, “Hello!” suddenly exclaimed the man who bad nominated Lofty Dick. ‘‘ Thar’s Brocky Bill. Come over this way ol’ coon!” *“Not much he won’t!” retorted the rival spokesman, ‘‘ The old man knows tbe pure quill from sp’ilt cider! He trains with this outfit— don’t you, Brocky?” Apart from the rest, squatting on bis heels and whittllng a stick, whis‘ling softly to bim- self, was the man alluded to as Brocky Bill. Dirty, greasy, slouchy in attire as in motion; with a Tacs that was almost hideous from the ravages of small-pox, the purple pits and scars of which had given him his title of ‘‘ Brocky,” in the expressive argot of his class; his small head being almost wholly denuded of hair, probably from the same cause, the little re- maining being ‘‘ neither fox nor *possum,” but of a peculiar, composite order, giving no clew to hisage, He might have been classed among the youngest of the company, or stationed with the elders, violating the proprieties in neither case, so far as one could judge of his age. : All eyes were now turned upon him, for it appeared that he held the power of nominatin the successor to King Saul, but Brocky Bi kept on whistling and whittling, only a sly twinkle in his one remaining eye, betraying the fact of his having beard the appeals, and that he fully comprehended the state of affairs, Thick and fast came the appeals, first from one side and then from the other, until it seemed as though weapons would be drawn and powder burned to clinch the argument, but before the final feather was applied, Brocky Bill looked Frag his whittling, with a peculiar, drawling whine. é ‘‘ Durn an’ double-durn all sech p’isen, con- trary critters as you all be, anyhow! Cain’t ye let a pore cuss do a bit o’ peaceable thinkin’, *thout your caterwaulin’ an’ high-hoopin’ all over him wuss then a stack o’ tom-cats onto a ‘nip be x Business comes fu’st, Brocky,” answered Appetite Dandy, the spokesman for Lofty Dick. ** You kin tend to your po’try-writin’ when they ain’t sech a rush as now, All’s spit out thar senterments ’cept you, an’ the way ae look now, I consait that your word’ll settle the hitch-tight.” ‘Which it'll be fer Buffalo Red, in course!” hastily edged in Sus pEer Johnny, ‘‘ The only man in the hull outfit that kin wear King Saul’s shoes, without havin’ to use a spy-glass to find himself the next mornin’! Spit it out, old mate, an’ puta stop to the agony.” Brocky Bill drew his awkward, ganglin frame erect, and cast a whimsical glance wit his one eye around the eager parties, still slowly whittling, again whistling softly. It was plain to be seen that he hugely enjoyed his sudden importance, and that he meant to make the most of if while he might. ‘* An’ my vote ’lects the boss, does it, now?” his whine more accented than usual. ‘“ You cain’t git along without the ole man, nohow? An’ when I vote, you all won’t pitch into each other, tooth an’ toe-nail, will ye, now?’ ‘*Of course not!” impatiently cried Lofty Dick. ‘‘Idid not seek the office, but since my name has been advanced, and so much said for and against it, I’m in the field to stay—unless you vote with the other side. If you do, I'll be the last man to kick.” “You cain’t neither 0’ you git thar, onless this ole coon says so, eh? Waal, we need a head; thar ain’t no gettin’ round that peint. We'll bu’st wide open ef somebody don’t take the cheer to keep us allin the traces. Eyther one. o’ you two men could do it, ef the other didn’t kick up too big a bobbery over gittin’ left. But that’s the peint! Thar’s jest one wa to git around it; which thisis them—scratch bot names off o’ the ticket, an’ wote straight fer Brocky Bill, Double--X-quire, an’ so fo’th, amen!” More at his quaint whine, and still more comical assumption of dignity, the Rustlers burst into hearty laughter, and the shrewd twinkle in Brocky Bill’s eye, told those who knew him best, that he felt his point was gained. Not the election; bad it been unanimously of- fered him, Brocky Bill would have declined the office, without a moment’s hesitation, for he 15 knew that he was a good follower where anoth- er led, but not of the material from which such chiefs are made. Bat he saw that the angry passions were growing more and more danger- ous, and knew that they needed every arm to fight against the odds which they were liable to encounter at any hour. ‘“That’s a-plenty nonsense,” he added, as the laugh subsided. ‘Let the ole man git down to business. King Saul is tuck. Some say he’s lynched, but that we cain know fer sure, an’ while thar’s a hope, slim asa spider’s thread, we want to hang onto it an’ not give up, nor fergit that we owe it to him as our boss—an’ a boss that we’ll never see the ekil to ag’in, ef we live tell the sky draps onto our cabezas—to git him out 0’ limbo, or bu’st our s’penders a-tryin’! I ax you all, ain’t that so, gents?” A general murmur gave assent, and drawin a fresh breath, the scare-crow orator sroceads “Tt reckon you critters hes pitched onto the two best men fer the work that ye could git. Take Lofty, frinstunce. He don’t shet off a monstrous sight o’ sunlight, but then a mule kin kick harder then a mount’in, an’ a twenty- two pistil ll kill a man jest as quick as a hun- dred-ton cannon, ef it’s got the right amount of skill to peint it straight. He’s got a neat little aveyard o’ his own, with a popelation which is steady growin’. He’s chucker full o’ pluck an’ sand then a buck flea is o’ bites. He never went back onto a mate, He puts up his dust as free as day, whenever he’s heeled, an’ don’t mark it down fer a treat back ag’in. He don’t ax a man to go, but tells him to come, ’cept when it’s rainin’ lead so hard that the best o’ the Jot hes to git in out o’ the wet,” “I knowed it!” triumphantly cried Appetite Dandy. ‘ You cain’t blow dust in the ole man’s eye—not much !” ‘* Then thar’s Buffalo Red,” resumed proces Bill, taking a fresh supply of breath, and nod- ding toward Lofty Dick’s rival. ‘I ain’t a-say- in’ that he’s quite as harnsome, nur that he smells quite as sweet as Lofty, fer that would be a stretch-the-truth, an’ them sort I don’t keep in stock. But I do say that a truer mate never drawed the breath o’ life then that same ork- ward-lookin’ rooster! It makes his nose turn a leetle redder, jest to hear his ole side-pardner say as much; but that’s a sort o’ blush he ain’t got no call to be ’shamed of. “* Ef a lad gits into a tight pinch, an’ don’t see no way to git out o’ it, short o’ turnin’ toes-up, it comes like a whiff o’ fresh air would to a pore cuss ’way down in the reddest corner o’ the Old Boy’s hot-house, to bear the ol’ buffler beller, an’ see him at his elber, workin’ his sixes, or playin’ his butcher. An’ them’s the things that smells louder then posy-stink, an’ w’ars longer then fine clo’es!” ‘Who said Brocky Bill’s head wasn’t level?’ cried Snapper Johnny, crowing like a bantam and kicking his heels together. ‘‘ Whooray fer Buffalo Red, the new King o’ the Rustlers!” “Which I reckon it’s a center shot, gents,” added Brocky Bill, soberly. ‘‘ Not that I ain’t mighty fond o’ cake, but tough bull-beef fills a hungry man up quicker, an’ stan’s by him a heap songet, An’ I wotes fer Buffalo ” Loud cheers from the one party; black scowls and ugly mutterings from the other. Despite his implied promise, when matters looked bright for his election, Lofty Dick held himself aloof from the victorious Rustler, and all could see that there was music in theair. Always ready for fun, though it was to be had at the expense of former friends, hands weve on the point of moving toward weapons, wl en a clear, ringin shout came to their startled. ars from the leve above, and hurriedly turning in that direction, they beheld a remarkable sight. . A horse and rider were distinctly outlined against the bright blue sky. The steed stood on the very edge of the wall, poised upon its hind feet, as though on the point of mak ng a death- leap down to the green valley beneath. At that distance the rider seemed a perfect counterpart of Lofty Dick, in size, garb and general appearance, save for the fact that the new-comer was as true a brune as he was blonde, Like him, this person wore long, curl- ing hair, with a pair of mustaches so slight as to be hardly visible at that distance. Yet there was one vast difference between them, aside from that of contrasting complexion, and it» was indicated by the general exclamation which burst from the lips of the excited Rustlers in the desert sink as recognition came: ‘*@ueen Dixie! Back again! Hurrah!” Witb a wave of her gauntleted hand, Queen Dixie wheeled ber frothing, travel-stained steed slightly to the rigbt, then gave him free rein, lying far back, until her jetty curls were blend- ed with his flowing tail, as he leaped at break- neck speed down the narrow, curving trail, where a single misstep would hurl them to the bottom together, ‘ A united cheer came from the admiring Rust- lers, who seemed to forget their differences in the glorious sight, and still more glorious reck- lessness of their beautiful queen. A smile curled her red lips, as the sound came to her ears, for she was acting with a full knowledge of their weaknesses, snd knew that — com ‘“S Gom cboo