Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 262 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

had two clubs, one in each hand, There was plenty of ’em; for we had to leave nigh twenty men, hurt, at the Arsenal, And Jake he had two clubs too, and the way we did everlastin’ly sotk it to them fellows was a caution. I kept on hittin’ like l’d neyer was rhe a wild man, til found both my clubs cracked, and cn broke jest clean off, nigh the handle,” ‘* Dat vas bard bittin’,” said the colonel. ‘You bet, Ole. his of clubs, but the way the fellers lay round in the gutters where we'd dropped ’em was a caution, I tell you.” “Were any of you hurt?” asked Harvey. Uncle Joe screwed up his face. ‘‘ Youder thort so ef you'd b’en thar, sonny. | They was shootin’ pistols and cobble-stones and | bricks all the time, Only they didn’t have our locusts, aud we druv ’em whenever we closed on ’em. It was neck or notben, club or git killed. Then, when we got things about quieted down at last, the sogers come in, a. when they got at ’em, mowin’ ’em down th their volleys, Mr. Mob, he away like, arter a day or two.” ‘‘ But Jake, how was he burt?” asked Harvey. Uncle Joe scowled deeply. ‘Ay, ay, I’m comin’ to that. I shall allers blame the chief fur that. He hadn’t orter put no man to sich a resk, Not but that we all thought Jake could take care of himself.” “ But what was it?” asked Harvey impatient- ly. ‘ You forget I don’t understand all this,” ** You're ant. sonny, you're right,” said Uncle Joe, apologetically. ‘Vil get it straight in a little, after awhile. Yesee, jest arter the Rogers come, we of the force had to do a good deal of up town dooty, fur the mob was started by the lrishbers in the shanties, and Central Park weren’t what it is. now, in those days. There was one place up by the Park, in those times, went by the name of Jackson’s Hole, It were a swamp on one side, with a lot of rocks on the o.ber, jest filled with shanties, In those times the squatters wouldn’t pay n> rent, and it was 2s much as a man’s life was worth to ax ’em fur it in daylight, before the streets was run through. Nowadays it ain’t so. The streets divides ’em into little patches, and they can’t get up the shindies they useder to. The swamp’s b’en drained they tell me, and the sewers run through it all.” ‘‘ Whereabouts was this place?’ asked Har- vey, and Svenson pressed bis foot warningly as Uncle Joe mentioned the very locality that Harvey knew as Murderer’s Row. “Me and Jake,” continued the veteran, not heeding the interruption, ‘‘ was took off patrol arter the riot and put on de’ective dooty to find out some of the ringleaders who'd sacked the big clotbin’-house, and where do you think we was sent to? Why, right up into Jackson’s Hole, by gum, with orders to find a man called Buck Snedecor, a feller who’d b’en gambler, Spy, and everything else for the rebs and our side, whicbever pail best. He was said to bo hidin’ up in Jackson’s Hole, and we was to get him somehow. Well, what’s the matter, sonny? What d’ye want to say?” Harvey’s air of excitement prompted the question, and the young man said eagerly: ‘“What was that man’s name?” * Buck Snedecor.” “Buck? Why did they call bim Buck?” “His name, I reckon, sonny.” “ But Ll know a Buck Jarvis.” ‘‘ Likely enough, sonny. Buck's quite a name, or used to be in old times.” ‘¢ What sort of a man was this Buck?” SA tall, slim feller, dressed to kill, with a big mustache, Called himself a fizbter, I reckon, Ever met him?” “No, no. At least I think not.” Harvey sunk back in his seat disappointed. The description did not suit Buck Jarvis. A tall, slim fellow, dressed to kill,” _ Buck was a big, fat fellow, rather ple in his dress and bearing, and did not look as if he ay ever have been ‘tall and slim, dressed to l “Well, sonny,” continued Uncle Joe. ‘‘Me and Jake was tuck from a down-town precinct ‘to look arter Buck Snedecor, jest ’cause it was thought we wouldn’t be known to the Lrishers up in the shanties by Jackson’s Hole, And that’s jest where the chief made his mis- e. “ Why?’ asked Barves, “Why, ye see the only is certain "bout the bull thing was that we wouldn’t know them. As for their knowing us, be might have saved his pains. We was spotted too well in the riots by more’n one of ‘em, and I told Jake, says I, ‘'Tain’t no use tryin’ to make out we ain’t cops. They'll drop on us anyhow,’ says I. And Jake he "lowed tnat was so.” “Thea you went up in uniform?’ asked Harvey, astonished. , “Sartin we did, sonny. There’s suthin’ in the sight of the brass buttons that kinder makes the roughs think twice’t afore they gets up a muss, and arter the riots they was more keerful than before. They knowed we'd club, and when we clubbed we meant to hurt, by gum! Yes, the chief didn’t give us no orders ‘cept to Jake he’d only bruk one et enough, and Jake | the mob ran, and I | We had to | Fighting ‘Tom. git Buck Snedecor. The rest be left tous. So me and Jake we jest went up in broad daylight through Jackson’s Hole, with two clubs apiece. I found out that a feller can handle two as well as one if he’s b’en taught to use both hands, and me and Jake used to be counted pretty good with our hands in any sorter muss. Our revol- vers we didn’t carry outside, but we had ’em, all the same, "You orter seen the muss we kicked up the fust day when we went inter Jackson’s Hole. All the Irishers was thinkin’ we wanted them, and the troops come a-march- in’ right through there at the same time, so they thought it was a put-up job to scoop ’em all. They didn’t dare to raise so much as a finger the fust day, and we went through more’n balf the shanties as bold as you please.” ‘* And did you catch Buck?” asked Harvey. “Hold your horses, sonny. No. If he was anywhere in those shanties the fust day, they kept him almig'ity close, you bet. The second day there warn’t no troops there, but we went all the same, and they was more skeered than | ever, thinkin’ we wanted to pick a muss. We kinder faded | a a ee - a went through the last of the shanties that day, and didn’t find our man, but we spotted two that had been in at the burnin’ of the Nigger Orphan ’Sylum, and by gum, we ran ’em in, then and there,” “And didn’t they fight?” asked Harvey. “Nary fight,” answered Uncle Joe, * They was that took aback by our knowin’ ’em they give up like lambs, and we tock ’em off with a bull mob follerin’ arter us, growlin’ and tryin’ to git up their spunk, but_they didn’t dare tech 3, and we got our men off safe. The chief was proud, I teil ye, and we got a good name for grit. Reckon that was what made us keerless arterward, Well, sonny, to cut a long story short, we mide up our minds to take one more shy at the shanties for Buck, and to go in the night, Jake he lowed Snedecor wouldn’t show up in daylight, and he was right. But he were too confident of his game when he thought we could go through there in the night as well as the day, That night we put on a duster each over our buttons, and started out arter dark to Jackson’s Hole, timin’ so’s we'd git there at jist about midnight. Sure enough, the shanties was all derk and quiet, and we had the hull place to ourselves, till we seen a light at the top of arock, and says Jake to me, sayste: ‘Joe, T'll_bet tbat if Buck Snedecor’s anywhere here, we'll find out at that light. Some one’s awake, and that means business.’ Says Ito him: ‘ What erewe goin’ to do? Says he to me: * We're goin’ up there, and if we find any one we're goin’ to run bim in,’ Ard with that he goes straight up to the shanty and mearter bim. It stood alone onarock that looked over all the rest of the place, and the nighest shanty was a hundred feet away, whilo, on the back side of the rock, was a drop of twenty feet and beyond that a steep slope down to tke swémp below. We could jest see the line of gas lamps in the avenoo, a long way below, and the nighest station was a mile cff, out thataway.” “Vy did you not go for belp?” asked Colonel Svenson, suddenly. ‘‘ You might«make gcot raid in de night.” Od Joe sighed slightly. *“Reckon you’re right, but me and Jake was set on bringin’ in Buck Snedecor alone. We didn’t want no one to divide the credit. So we crept up to the shanty, and ps Be in at the winder. Jest as I'd expected there was the man we were arter, sittin’ at a table ectin’ like be was starved, and a woman a-standin’ by him, watchin’ him kinder scared like, Every now and then she'd start as if she thought she heard something, and goto the door to look out, and every time she did, he’d put his hat afore the candle to shade it. Me and Jake could see them through a little winder at the back, that they didn’t Ko I reckon, for they never come there to look; and says Jake to me, says he in a whisper: ‘ That’s bis woman. She’s b’en a-bidin’ him all this time. We'll never have sich another chance. Come on,’” Here Uncle Joe paused abruptly, and Harvey felt the colonel press bis foot under the table to warn him to silence. Presently the old man resumed. ‘T don’t know what it was made me feel kinder sorry for that woman that night, but somehow I couldn’t help it. She warn’t extr ood-lookin’, but the way she looked at that fel- er sot me to thinkin’of a mother with a bab- by, and I whispers to Jake: ‘ Wait a bit. Listen to what they say.’ So he laid still and so did I, and presently she says to Buck: ‘*Oh, Buck, what a life this is to lead! If we were only safe away in Canada, how I would bless God for his mercy? He looked up with his mouth full, and says, kinder sneerin’ like: ‘You hadn’t orter growl. They ain’t arter you! ‘No, says she, ‘but if they take you I shall surely die too. Why won’t vou take my advice, Buck, and get away now, while you can? ‘ Because,’ says be, with the same sneer, ‘lve got other fish to’ fry. There’s a nice al on the avenoo wants me to marry her, and f I run away now I won’t git the chance. This thing ’]] blow over, you'll see. Them two cops "ll get all they want to-morrer.’ I pinched Jake to lay still, for he half got up when be heard that, but presently the woman says in a kinder stiff way: ‘I know Pm not a lady, Buck; but I love you better than any girl on the avenoo can, and she can’t help ye like I kin. Why won’t you go now? My cousin will take care of you at once.’ ‘Your cousin be darned,’ says he, ‘I don’t want to git into no stinkin’ old ship’s hold, and be carried out to sea as a mean stowaway. I tell ye this will blow over. I’ve got friends in Washington.’ With that Jake gits up and whispers to me: ‘We'll see ’bout that.’ So we goes round to the door, and who should pop right out on us but the woman, afore we could git in.” ** Well, and what did she do?’ asked Harvey. Old Joe passed his band over his brow. ‘* Well, sonny, don’t never tell me woman’s got no spunk. The moment that woman, so quiet and gentle-like, sot eyes on us two, though we was rigged out in the dusters, she spotted us in a twinklin’, give a screek that might bave woke a dead man, and grapples me like a tigress, clawin’ for my eyes by gum, like a old rough- and-tumble fighter, and bitin’ like al] possessed. I tell ye I had as much as I e’n’d do to keep my eyes from bein’ dug out fust pop, and some- how I couldn’t club a Woman.” ** But Buck, what of him?’ “‘T dunno, sonny. I swear I dunno. I had all | could attend to and my face was clawed up as it was; while she kep’ on secreechin’ and I heard fellers shoutin’? and runnin’ over the rocks arter us. At last I jest fairly tore ber off me, and sent her down kerplump on the shanty floor, when I got a chance to look, and there was the Irishers a comin’, with rocks in their hands, shoutin’ bloody murder. Where Jake was, I didn’t know, and Buck was gone. Tbe candle was out in the scrimmage, and I seen it were no plece fur me. 1 jest dropped down the side of the reck, best I knowed baw, and found some of ’em there before me, holierin’ * Kill the ee kill bim!’ Sonny, you see I’m a pretty hefty man now, and I were as strong as a common horse in those days, but Thad all I knowed to do that night, with two clubs, and it warn’t till I got to the swamp I beat ’em off. In the mud they couldn’t git out of my way, and I jest laid ’em out and got off to the station-house, fur help. Well, for short, I tak back a bull platoon to look for Jake, and we found bim aft lest.” ** Where?” asked Harvey, eagerly. “At the edge of the swamp, all clubbed to pieces, so I didn’t know bim, cept for what they’d left of bis uniform. They’d cracked his skull, broke both arms, smashed bis legs with rocks, and smashed in bis bull face with stampin’. And all through it, by gum, be’d bilt on to bis man. We found a torn coat still clutched in his bands, and learned arterwards how it was. He bad got Snedecor first pop, and stunned him with a tap, so he wouldn’t make no noise. Then he’d dragged bim over tbe rock, and all the way down to the swamp, where they come up with bim and sot on him. He could ha’ got cif as I did, but he wouldw’t let go his man, and that’s how they double banked poor Jake Vre- denburg.” © — CHAPTER XXII. BAD NEWS. “* AND was he killed?’ asked Harvey. Uncle Joe shook his head. No, sonny. Lucky for him if he had been.” “Why? hat do you mean?” ‘*He’d ’a’ gone to bis grave a man, and we'd ha’ put him up a bully tombstone, you bet. For he was a man,” | ** And what happened to him then?” 6 a I told ye be was all smashed up. He hadn’t a bone bardly but what was brcke, and he laid there like a dead man, so we thought he was really dead. We took bim to the sta- tion, and the doctor, arter feelin’ him, told us he were alive yet. And then that doctor began to set the bones, and Jake lyin’ still all the time. When that was done, the doctor told me there warn’t much chance for my pore pard, ‘cause there was something of the n—” ** Concussion,” suggested Harvey. ‘‘Suthin’ like that, I guess, but disremember. Anyway, bis sku)l was cracked in two places, and some of the bits of bone was a-stickin’ in his brain. And the doctor “lowed he'd have to cut a bole in Jake’s head to see what was the matter, and while be was doin’ it, Jake come to, and give sich e groan, it ’u’d ha’ froze yer heart to hear it. Poor old Jake!” The veteran sighed deeply, and was silent so long, that Harvey ventured to ask: ‘“ And what became of him? Did he die?” ‘*No, sonny. I wish to God be bad. Pore Jake! He was the best-lookin’ man I ever see’d afore that, tall as I be, butslender-like. Looked like be warn’t as strong as I be, but as bard as steel, and I couldn’t wrastle with him, nohow. And thare he laid, ruined by them dcdrotted Irishers! No, be didn’t die—worse luck. Doctor said he’d the constitoosban of a horse. He got well in body, with every limb broke. But when he got better he didn’t w nobody—not even me, his old pardner, He were jist as sawney and simple asa babby till he got strong, and then be got outrageous, and the doctors said he was as crazy asa bedbug. So they shipped him (E(0) nicboo com |