Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 292 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

Moke |] Horner, the Boss Rou stabout. Purty Paddy was all aglow with rage at the hearty guffaws which burst from the darker ortion of the gang at their chief's retort, and is last words were hissed out savagely, with his clinched fist thrust almost against Moke’s nose, Still Jaughing, the Boss Roustabout brushed the hand to one side, imitating the action with his own muscular paw. ‘* An’ dar’s you’ mist’ess, Irish! She weigh a ‘ton, an’ hit two fousand pounds when she come down in good airnest!” “* Augh! ye black divil! hit amon whin he ain't luckin’, will ye?’ cried Purty Paddy, greedily snatching at the frail excuse to precipi- tate the fight he bad been looking for. As he spoke be shot out his bony fists, one after the other in swift succession, in the ‘‘double” which had made him famous in the annals of the ‘‘ magic circle,” but not with the same degree of success on which he so surely calculated. A lightning movement of the bare left arm, strong as though composed of steel itself, a rapid duck and swaying of the head, foiled both blows, and then, with a crack like that of a sledge-hammer striking on tightly-packed earth, Moke Horner sent his right fist home, full be- tween the eyes, and Purty Paddy was lifted clear off bis feet and hurled more than his own length away. The face of the Boss Roustabout was no lon- ger laughing. He knew thatit wouldytake more than one blow, even severe.as this, to dispose of the pretension of this claimant for the honors which had been exclusively his for so many years. His eyes were famine redly, and he was about to leap upon his fallen enemy like a hungry tiger when a stern voice rung out: ‘*Go slow, there! ,If there’s got to be any fighting done, J’m going to do it—you hear, oke Horner?” A burly, broad-shouldered man stood between them, his wuscular bands gripping a_ heavy club, and one glance into his stern-set face was enough to convince even the most skeptical that he meant every word he uttered, too. In addition, he possessed authority at his back, being chief, mate of the boat, ‘*Dat’s all yight, marse mate,” muttered Moke, with an ugly glare at the Irishman, who was just struggling to his feet, ‘‘ You know me, You know IL don’t pick fuss wid no man, But you don’t ax a body to ’tan’ up an’ be knocked down widont tryin’ fo’ git eben, do you?” ‘* Don’t listen to the dirthy lies ay the bloody naygur, mate, dear!” cried Purty Paddy, rising and brushing the blood, from his face, ** Luk at that, now! An honest white gintleman bloodied in the face av him be aiisth av a naygur baboon! An’ me not a- uckin’ at the toime! An’ all beca’se I shuspicted the black divil o’ st’alin’ me ’backy! Sure, mate, dear, you won't gu fer to defind the dirthy thafe like that” “ Dat ‘fernal lie when you say I’teal from you!” flashed the Boss Roustabout, his blue eyes glittering like balls of fire. “ You heap wuss dan t’ief, anyhow! Wha’ you yun '’way from O’leans fo’? Wha’ you do wid dat white man zen stick an’ shoot dat night when de row at um Jinny’s?” “Ye dirthy naygur, what ye mane?” snarled Purty Paddy, bis face turning pale even through its mask of blood and dirt. “De bobbies wid dar bold-um-tights tell you Some, soon’s dis boat git to St. Lovey, an’ den de rope-collar man show you all de rest,” laugh- ed Moke Horner, with a meaning leer. ‘‘ Wha’ o you got you’ head tie up like dat? Some- body slug.you dar wif a sling-shot, eh?” Purty Paddy glared ferociously at the black, whose meaning he could no longer mistake, then he turned to the inate, his voice trembling with passion, but coupled with a fawning whine that was disgusting in itself, ‘‘Arrah, mate, dear! you hear the ugly ba- boon t’rowin’ his dirthy scutts in the face av me? An’ to think that ye kin be so harrd- hearted as to stan’ atwane the divil’s spawn an’ the good dose ay betther midicine that w’u’d cure bim ay sich low-down thricks foriver an’ onin, _Ye’re white yersilf, honey, an’ ye w’u’dn’t ike Jt flung up to ye that a dicthy naygur oodied the face an’ blacked the two eyes ay one av your own color widout payin’ the price av it? Jist turn the back an’ close the eyes ay e for wan minnit—sure, it’s no more than that ittle Pm askin’! Jist wan round, an’ I'll lave him 80, purty that his mither wid the long tail Maran know him in a month avy Sundays—so ‘Do it—do it, boss!” grated Moke Horner, now fully on fire. “It’s got to come sometime. He pickin’ on me all de while, He finks he make better boss den me, an’ yight now de bes’ time fo’ settle dat ’spute.” *“T}] have no fighting here,” was the stern reply. ‘ T Den let eberybody look out!” cried the hoo- doo man, uplifting one hand in which he held his ASA) charm. ‘ Fo’ de last time I say it! I wuk de rabbit-foot on dis boat an’ all dat’s in no! all it, ef you say | | .. Like a flock of chickens when a hawk swoop seattered, wi down among them, the ne low cries and muttered ejaculations of super- stitious terror, The mate turned a trifle pale, not because he was at all superstitious, but he knew full well what a terrible power the angry negro held, should he see fit to exercise it with- out psi ; Moke Horner brought his hands together, slowly bréathing on the rabbit-foot as be rolled it between his palms. His eyes glittered like those of an angry cat in the dark, and low mut- tered incantations hissed through his clinched teeth. The black crowded still further away from him, and some hag ti 3 their number even glanced out at the swiftly flowing water as though meditating that hasty means of escap- ing from a surely doomed steamer, vy Augh, mate, darlint, ye see the bloody nay- yur will hev it fer all ye kin say—thin why not lit out the job of coolin’ bis hot blood to Purty Paddy? Sure, ’tisn’t the loikes av him that kin run this big boat while the son av me mither is betwane the two soides av her, soitain’t! To the divil wid his rabbit-fut! Sure, Ill lick him nately, an’ thin swally his dirthy charm for to kape me supper down!” ‘Let them fight it out, your honor,” respect- fully uttered Teddy Huke, coming forward and touching hishat, ‘‘The nigger has been run- ning over us all ever since the boat put out from Orleans, and unless he gets a set-back from some one of us, there won’t be room enough aboard to hold him, short of the cap- tain’s cabin, He begun the row with Paddy.’ **I don’t like it,” hesitated the mate, reluc- tantly. “‘ It is contrary to all discipline,” ‘* Better two men fight dan twenty leabe you at fust landin’,” tersely uttered Moke Horner, “] know your power, curse you !” growled the mate, clinching bis club as t ough onging to fell the sullen negro to the deck, ‘‘It will be a glad day when you turn your toes up for good and all! If f was only captain on bosrd this boat, I’'d lay you by the heels if ever other dog of them ran away the next moment!” Moke Hornér made no reply, but, squatted down, holding bis rimless felt bat on bis knees, the rabbit-foot resting on the crushed-in top, he resumed his weird incantations, Crushing a flerce curse between his teeth, the mate said; ‘*T)l go put the case before the old man, What he says will decide it. He bosses me, and if he is willing for you to fight it out, I'll see fair play, But mark this: if you get to blows while I’m Bue, I'll open fire on you—and Vl shoot to kill, every time!” Turning away without another word, he sought out the captain, who was in. the office above.. Drawing him aside, the mate stated how matters stood below, | “You know what that infernal nigger is, when he once gets his back up in good earnest. You know how it will be with the other mokes if he is let goon with bis cursed rabbit-foot busi- ness they’ll leave us like rats at the first land- ip Ru f We'll be at the wood-landing before long, Let them go ashore then and have it out.” “The darks will balf of them, never’ come back, then, no matter if their man should win, If he loses, not, one will ever board the Water Witch again,” ° ‘* There isn’t room for them to have a fair shake aft?” The mate shook bis head negatively. ‘Well, if they must have it out, clear a place for them in the bows, and see that they get their fill for once, By the way, what sort ofa man is it after Moke?” Purty Paddy—the ring fighter, you remem- er. “Think he can get away with him? Safe to bet on?” ‘You must be judge of that,” with a dry laugh. ‘‘ You know the nigger. I prefer keep- ing my money in my own pocket.” While this hasty conversation was going on above, tongues were equall¥Y busy below, Moke ceased his talking to bis rabbit-foot, but his retort came swift to a taunt from Paddy or his bosom companion, Teddy Huke, ** Bes’ fo’ you keep quiet, little boy-man,” he rated, with an ugly look at the thief, ‘I now you too.. You ‘long him dat night when man killed. You git mark’ wid sling-shot too, ef dis niggah ain’t bad mistook. "You yun off in heap hurry, dat time, but you don’ yun so fas’ dat Moke couldn’t mark you so he kin sw’ar to you. when de yight time come.” : “Don’t you throw ont your lying hints at me, nigger, unless you’re aching for a dose of steel between the short-ribs for your slander!” grated Huke, showing his sharp teeth. “Hoo! you. got kill’ enough on you’ han’s, one would fink, to las’ fo’ little time,” laughed the reckless negro. ‘You shoot an’ cut de gemman what wasn’t lookin’ fo’ no sech ugly tricks, an’ you fink you git heap money, den piteb de body ober in de drink, mebbe. But you didn’t do des so—not much! You hear man come, an’ you yun away like debble a’ter you wid red-hot pitch-fo’k! You lay low fo’ good while, an’ you fink it all yight ag’in fo’ you. Dar ain’t nobody foun’, but dey ain’t no queschums axed, neider. You fink man die widout tellin’ who kill’ him, Dat so—mau dead; he nebber speak, nebber know who cut «* % = him—but one udder know, an’ dat udder he tell de police des what he see. Dey on hunt, now. Dey be at every landin’ on de watch fo’ you’ comin’, You git coteh, suab!” ‘* Augh, what ye drivin’ at, ye loose tongued naygur?/” Purty Paddy sniffed loftily. ‘*‘ To. the divil wid your murthers an’ your polace! Give us a rist, won't yez?” CHAPTER XL PURTY PADDY SEES A GHOST. THE wortby captain rubbed the tip of bis nose dubiously, as though he did not exactly relish the situation, “If the infernal rascals bad only buckled to and had it out without asking permission! If they take an idea into their beads that we can be bullied into giving them their own wa they’ll keep us in hot water from morning till night! Why couldn’t you see and say nothing, Devlin?” ‘So I would, bad it been any other than Moke Horner,” was the balf-sullen reply. ‘‘ The black rascal totes the rabbit-foot, and if the fool nig- gers should take it into their heads that be was being abused—well, you know what. would fol- low as well as I can tell you,” The captain did know only too well. Though he frequently disavowed his belief in yoodooism, swearing that no man ever drew the breath of life who was more entirely free from supersti- tion than. bimself, this mention of the rabbit- foot made anything but a comfortable impres- sion upon him just then, *)'m not blaming you, old fellow,” he made haste to add. “ After all, what. matter? The ladies are all in their own cabin, and we can manage it so that they need know novntog Apo it. As for the male passengers, it will be a change from the card-tables—all right, old fel- low! Go you and make CS Na for the scrapping match. Or stay—LIl just run down and, have a word and a Jook—I never saw that Purty Paddy close at hand, but they say he’s a tough nut to erack. . Yet you think Moke can get away with him?” gre ken dos, “JT didn’t. say so,” replied the mate, with a silent laugh, as the bustling little captain led the way down the broad flight of stairs to the lower deck. - De ;, Captain Miles was » thoroughbred sport, when that term was held in far higher esteem than it — is at the present day, and Mate Devlin had little doubt from the first what would be the result of his mission, He knew that his superior officer would not miss such a chance of winning or los- ing a few dollars, debarred as he was by his position from the card-tables, . eee be gh ‘‘ What's. the matter with you two ragcals anyhow?” demanded Captain Miles, as he gaine the scene of the dispute, ‘' 1t’s. just like the in- fernal impudence of you roustabcuts to demand a landing so that you can pull bair and scratch faces to. settle pur little, squabbles! You, Moke! that rabbit-foot of yours will bring you to the end of a rope one of these fine days. ‘And you,” turning abruptly toward the prize-fighter and catching bim by the arm, dextrously feel- ing of bis muscles, ‘* won’t be satisfied wit out tackling the cock of the walk—and by the Lord Harry | I believe you'll pull out his tail-feathers, “© Ay T don't, cap’n, dear,” grinned the ratified Irisbman, ‘‘ ye kin use me fer a shwab to scrub up the flures wid!” yal “De cap’n too high gemp}tin to do sech wuk youlJow-down ign’ant bog-trotter!” sniffed the ebony athlete with lofty scorn. “ ri sabe him dat trouble, dough. You git mo at‘ ‘nuff fo’ settle you’ supper, oe ohn ge re mg Not a little confused by the ype 4 dar which his enthueiasm had placed him ub thought, Captain Miles turned away with the mate, hastily whispering: ‘- “You arrange matters, and give them equal show. Let them fight it out until one gets 0 m oke Horner enough, but then stop it, We can’t affor Jose a good man while the water is on the boo like this. Get to work—and put your ducats on the little Irisher!” " With these. words the jolly captain Lastened to the cabin deck, eager to give a favored few of his sporting passengers the ‘‘ tip” and ce guards to prevent any of the ladies from stray- ing to the front of the boat, thus becoming shocked witnesses of what promised to be a desperate struggle. | ow that. the fight was fairly decided upon, the rivals became almost painfully polite in their actions toward each other. for Moke Horner, bis short-lived anger had entirely van- ished, and he was jolliest of the jolly while the mate was directing the clearance of the bows sufficiently to give them room for the struggle. Meanwhile the captain had not wasted his time, and the semi-circular space above was crowded by eager spectators, some with books and pencils out, all watching for a glimpse of the rival roustabouts, It was an age of betting, and already men who had never seen nor heard of either man before that hour, were placin their money on the one their fancy selected as pi wer. tk h wo huge iron crates were filled up with light wood oat tar, and blazed up oeaaiig as the Gomichboo (E Sjn(E) ‘ eu s/ \