Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 294 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 ‘* Wal, he’s back!” “é No y"? ‘* Blamed ef he ain’t!” Paradise Paul looked astonished. In one moment the man in broadcloth seemed entirely forgotten. 4 ‘*Some human critters a’ idiots an’ no mis- take,” he suddenly exclaimed. ‘I never Gbought that sanctimonious old Timothy Ten- wives would ever venture back hyar. What does he say now?” ‘* Nobody’s interviewed the antiquated hea- then,” was the response which was supplement- ed witha laugh. ‘‘ He came in last night on that same mule, an’ hez been viewin’ /ife in Deadwood from the porch ov the Setemup Hotel; an’ from the same chair we found ’im in last summer.” ““Thet’s unblushin’ impudence!” exclaimed Paradise Paul. ‘‘ Afore night he'll be nosin’ ind Alice like be did when he war hyar re. lll inform the Latter Day Saint that ais place is in the bosom of his multiplied ‘amily, an’ notin Deadwood, No plural wife- hunters hyar! no second editions ov Brigham Young shall preach the new-fangled doctrine ov too much family whar we live!’ These sentiments were received with unmis- takable signs of approval by the toughs who were ready to take a hand inanything that promised a diversion. ** Cocked in the same chair, is he?” continued Paradise Paul. ‘‘ He’s poked his head into the worst hole he ever found. Thar’ll be ten mar- riageable widders in Salt Lake afore mornin’ ef he gits stubborn. TI]l proceed to interview the Latter Day Timothy.” ‘‘We'll witness the interview, Paradise,” chimed the eager dozen. ‘‘ Ef tharis to be an- other suit ov tar an’ feathers ter be adminis- tered, just draw on the free-born citizens ov Dead- wood. You ar’ right! No wife-huatin’ Mor- mons hyar!” Paradise Paul was about to inaugurate a movement on the Setemup Hotel with the crowd at his heels when the handsome figure of the passenger from Denver reappeared in the door of the Casino. “Thar’s yer Jew-shop, Paradise,” whispered hose nearest the broad-shouldered tough. “That’s him, boys. Darn me! but he isa landy!” wasthe reply. ‘‘Them blue. eyes ov tis might flash behind a pistol, but I don’t know. tf he’s got such a thing about ’im I never got mto it in the stage. Looks to me like he ex- pects to get through on his looks an’ his clothes,” : Apparently totally unconscious of the obser- vations of the crowd, the man from below coolly lit a cigar ere be left the door, and then pe outside as he sent a smoke-cloud above head, ** Where will I find the Setemup?” he asked quietly, addressing Paradise Paul whom he seemed to recognize as his fellow-passenger out of Denver. ** We ar’ just goin’ up thar,” was the instant repl as Paul glanced at the crowd. ; Then I will have an escort,” said the broad- cloth sport, and the next moment he stood. be- side Paradise Paul than whom he was an inch valler and a great deal more shapely. Paradise Paul sidled up to the stranger with 9 air of arrogance and superiority, and his dusty shoulder touched the soft sleek sleeve. 9 yer pardon,” he saidin mock apology. “Darn me ef I haven’t touched yer broad- cloth; but one must expect ter be touched when he comes to Deadwood.” The crowd grinned behind the two men, and ‘he new-comer looked from his soiled sleeve 0 Paul with a twinkle in bis blue eyes, ‘*No harm has been done,” he said, ‘I'll lean up at my leisure. Excuse me, but did I nderstend you to say in the stage that shootin’ as good round about Deadwood?" The calmness with which the question was ut somewhat startled Paradise Paul, and he hought he had detected a certain significant emphasis along the line. “That war the purport ov my answer,” he replied. ‘‘Ef ye hev timeon yer hands, I’ll show ye our graveyard.” ‘* Should be delighted to see it,” observed the stranger, and bis voice seemed to betray a cer- tain eagerness that he tried hard to conceal. “When { have registered at the Setemup, I’ll be at your command.” **He’s a cooler; more’n a match fer Para- dise!” ejaculated certain members of the crowd in whispers. ‘‘He’ll git through ef he stays in Deadwood, an’ never soil bis clothes, either,” For some time after the stranger’s last re- corded utterance, the crowd moved forward without audible remark. The expectant countenances of the toughs told that they were approaching the goal. On either side stood the wooden shanties of the rough-shirted denizens of Deadwood, and every few rods was to be seen the gaudy and generally pes Be ye sign of a saloon. Almost suddenly, as the crowd turned a cor- ner, the front of a huge wooden building came into view, and at the same time was seen the one figure that occupied the porch in a chair tilted back, and with his feet elevated above his head against the solid+wooden pillar directly before him, ‘*Thar’s the Setemup an’ ther meanest man west ov ther Mississippi!” ejaculated Paradise Paul, showing a dark countenance and a pair of flashing eyes as he threw a glance into the face at hisside. ‘‘Thet Mormon galoot came hyar last summer, an’ got a coat ov tar an’ feathers, but it seems he wore it out an’ is hyer fer another. Shall [ introduce ye, er do you know ther ’Postle ov sin—Timothy Tenwives ov Salt Lake?” At mention of the Saint’s name the stranger’s eyes became riveted upon him, and then he observed, with a faint smile: ‘We may be acquainted, At any rate the nee Timothy Tenwives does not sound unfa- miliar.” ‘‘T should judge not, fer thet sleek spider hez | been roamin’ all over ther country ropin’ re- spectable women into his net. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothin’, thet devil-saint is, an’ ef you'll stand back, pard, you'll see one ov ther daisiest times Deadwood’s hed fer a year.” Tbe imperturbability of the occupant of the porch seemed to disconcert the crowd as it ap- proached the hotel. Did Timothy Tenwives recognize the dark- skinned toughs who had maltreated him the summer before? If he did, why did he sit there unconcerned, and see them approach, beaded by the same man whose stern voice had once before com- manded him never to come back to Deadwood on pain of death? he Mormon continued to occupy his uncon- cerned position until the burly figure of Para- dise Paul. halted within three feet of his ele- vated heels. | ‘*Back hyar ag’in, eh, Mr, Tenwives?” salut- Broadcloth Burt, the Denver Dandy. _ egy Timothy hasn’t vamosed the ranch, yet. Paradise Paul followed Broadcloth Burt into the dark, uncarpeted ‘‘ reception-room ” of the Setemup. The proprietor of the “oldest and only hotel in Deadwood ” had rigged up a clerk’s desk of poorly-planed pine and furnished it with a reg- ister, whose blurred pages were in keeping with everything else about the room, Behind the counter stood the owner and pro- prietor of the Setemup, a rather portly man of fifty, a relic—an unfortunate one, too—of the days of 49, with little eyes like a snake’s, fat, flabby cheeks, a mustache and Napoleon, and arrayed in only a shirt and pantaloons, the first mentioned garment collarless, of course, This was ‘‘ Colonel” Sandbanks, well known in the early days of California, and one of the characters of early Deadwood, ° Broadcloth Burt had exchanged a few words with the landlord colonel, a moment before Paradise Paul’s entrance, and he now stood over the register’s page, pen in hand, ‘Put ’er down in the first white space you can find, major,” said Colonel Sandbanks, ‘You shall have my best room, sir, ‘pon honor, an’ I shall delight to entertain you, sir. Dead- wood ar’ beautiful ab this season of the year: but you’ve been heah before? Ov course, Sock down yer autograph anywhar on the page, an’ ll assign you to my most sumpt’ous apartment; will, ‘pon bonor, sir.” Broadcloth Burt waited until the obsequious landlord ended, and then looked up, with the pen poised in his gloved right hand. “ft may be inquisitive, sir; but who is this last man, my dear colonel?’ he asked and bis eyes dropped quickly to the page. “That darned Mormon ov course!” cried ed the Deadwood worthy, smothering with an | Paradise Paul who, backed by a dozen of the effort the rage that wanted to drag the apostle of Mormonism from the chair and toss him among the eager toughs bebind him. ‘ Been *bout a year since ye left Deadwood.” ~ peer the twenty-first of next month,” was the caim reply. *“You oughter recollect the date,” blurted Paul. ‘‘ But, see hyer, afore we lengthen ther interview, | want to introduce a gentleman. Mr. Tenwives, this is Mr.— Darn my boots, ef I know myself!” At that moment the broadcloth sport moved in front of Paradise Paul, and stepped up on the porch, “T guess we’ve met before, Timothy,” he said, with a smile,.as he looked into the eyes of the Latter Day Saint and saw all color leave his face. ' ‘*Great Jehosaphat!” almost sereeched the Saint, and he would have shot from his chair if the gloved hand of the man from Denver had not held him down. “In the name of Joe see spirit! what brought you to Dead- w ‘Pretty much the same mission that fetched ou, Timothy,” was the . ‘*Look here; et me whisper in your ear,” and the glossy mustache of the Denver sport t touched the Mormon’s ear. ; ‘You area dead man if you attempt your game here. You know me—Broadcloth Burt!” he whispered. | The next moment the chair was empty! CHAPTER II, A B. M. FROM I-G. PARADISE PavuL looked into Broadeloth Burt’s face like a man suddenly struck dumb with amazement, Timothy Tenwives, the Mormon, had crossed the porch in one frightened bound and was no- where to be seen. ; ‘Wal, ef you can’t clear a chair quicker’n any ani Tever saw!” exclaimed Paul. ‘I'd jes’ like ter know what you whispered in thet aint’s ear, but hit’s none ov our bizness. Met afore? I should suggest, arter thet brief inter- view. Broadcloth Burt was gazing into the apart- ment beyond whose threshold the Mormon had unceremoniously vanished. There was an anima expression in his deep-blue eyes which seemed toconfirm Para- dise Paul’s late suggestion that they might flash bebind a revolver, All at once the Denver Sport strode forward, but not in a manner that indicated pursuit. He had spoken an ultimatum in a whisper, and it was evident that he was content to abide by it and let the actions of the Mormon, deter- mine the future. ‘‘A torpedo wouldn’t bey raised thet Salt Lake seraph quicker ner thet dandy’s words did,” declared Paradise Paul to his companion not a whit less astonished than himself. ‘‘ It’s kinder strange that them two men should reach Deadwood about ther same time. It’s a co— co—thunderation! what d’ye call it?” ‘“‘ Never mind; thet’s just what itis, Paradise,” was the reply. “Ther two hev met before somewhar, an’ the apostle ov the harem got up an’ got when the fashion-plate said git. We won't git to give the old sinner‘another mix- ture ov tar an’ feathers now.” ““That’s to be determined,” responded Paul, | crowd anxious to see the fun, stood near the door.” -** Look hyer, Kernul Sandbanks, didn’t you know that we don’t ‘low that Salt Lake cherub in Deadwood?” ‘*Wal, yes,” asserted the landlord: “ but he walked in last night, an’ before I had establish- ed his identity, bis name war down thar, an’ thet settled it. I made it a rule years ago, gen- tlemen, never to erase a man’s name from the books ov ther Setemup till be had paid his bill.” **Oh!” ejaculated the Deadwood tough. “ This Mormon carpet-bagger is apt ter leave without payin’ared. He’s back hyar on the same mis- sion thet failed afore. Thar’s no gittin’ around thet, kernul, If you expect ter git yer bill out ov thet wife-hunter, ye’d better collect it within the next thirty minutes, for probe me for an ulcer! if such truck shall stay among decent men. “« We'll see, sir,” said Colonel Sandbanks turn- ing to Broadcloth Burt. ‘** What was you say- in’, sir? Oh, yes. Y¢ me who wrote thet line under your *. It’s just below the —Mr. Tenwives’s, sir. al, the owner ov that name, if name it is, came in hyar about an hour an’ deposited bis ph exactly whar you see it, sir. Kind ov queer, ain’t it? What ‘do you make it out ter be? To me I must con- fess it is a little enigmatical.” The colonel pronounced the last word in a manner calculated to impress all present with aa of = las age. ar goes a bu’sted jaw!” ‘grinned Paradise Paul, before the Denver sport could reply to the landlord. Colonel Sandbanks threw a disdainful look at the speaker and said dly to himself: ‘“‘ You can’t bandle a word like that, Paradise,” ‘What do I make it out to be?’ said Broad- cloth Burt at this gence. ‘It seems to con- sist of letters calculated to puzzle the univitiat- ed. Lread on the line simply this: “ A B. M. from L.-G.” . cis 5. ‘‘ What’s thet?” cried Paradise P. forward and staring at the page. the pag other smart Alec come to Dei thet blatherskite inseription? ‘A 1.-G.! Pd just like: sick kitten what put that gown thi t did he look like, kernul?” | “T recollect that he didn’t give me much time to inspect him.” | ; “Oh, you recollect a blamed sight you'd like ter forget,” blurted Paradise Paul, ““‘ War he a human being or the connectin’ link?” Bn momglltd ~ Poem answered the colonel. e or you sically, Para- dise, from what I saw ov en Plo war rayther young, an’ had an eye in his head, I can tell ** Never saw him before?” ** Never, an’ I’ve been in Deadwood ever since the town was christened.” Pie Had A * M,. — L-G., whatever thet ans, any . ‘ “T didn’t 00 Sag” _ The mystery seemed to increase, if Is he in his room?” persisted Paul. No. He left the house before I could assign “I want to see him. with a keen eye’!” Paradise Paul turned toward the door. ‘‘ Ther’s too many blokes comin’ to Deadwood, an’ they’re all gettin’ byar at once, too.” com ‘Rayther young, an’ ~