Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 303 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

Top Notch Tom, the Cowb ~~. oy | Outlaw. 19 into publicity; and the way toclear bim is plain. You refuse todo it. Very well, sir; then all I can do is to bid you a very good day.” And with that, she swept bim a deep cour- tesy, and dismissed him, as Tom had seen. The Marshal of Satanstown rode slowly from the houss, and took the way to the corral, where the judge was watching the antics of the colts, fresh from the pasture, that one of the men was breaking, one by one, in the usual rough-and-ready Texas style. e cams to the bars, and beckoned to the judge, who came to him, and heard that the trial was to come off, on the following day. The old man promised to bring the young one to court, and Hank was turning away, when the judge added: “ But, Isay, hold on a moment, Hank. You can’t leave this ranch in that way, you know. You haven’t been to the house. I'll be out of this in an instant, and we can have at least one little smile together.” Hank seemed embarrassed, but he said: “‘Thankee, jedge, thankee; but not to-day. I’m temperance, ye know, anybaow;; but I c’u’d take a glass of water or suthin’ of the kind, not to be disobleegin’. But ef ye'll ’scuse me, to- day, I’d take it kindly, jedge. I’ve got to go back to taown, and | hain’t much time to stop any whar.” ut the old judge, with a smile on his face, that showed be was prepared to vanquish all scruples in the name of hospitality, was already out of the corral, and beside Hank, before the marshal had finished his lame excuse. “You'll come with me, or there will be a fight, Hank,” be said, in his jolly wes “ You know the rule in Texas—drink or fight—and you don’t want to fight me; do you?’ Hank shook his head emphatically. ™ ly nee you, jedge! Why I'd let ye lam me all ye bad a mind to. I’d not hurt a ha’r of yer head, whatever ye did to me, And then, 7m know, I couldn’t do it, nohaow. It wouldn’t the squar’ thing, to fight an old gentleman like yeu, what hain’t got his eyesight or narve, like e used ter hev.—Not that I mean to say you’re no good, jedge,” he added hastily, in his simpli- city, anxious that the other should not take of- fense, ‘' Ye’ve got the sperrit of a lion, yet: but the body ain’t thar, ye know, and that’s no shame to any man of your age.” Jul Collingsworth slapped him on the shoulder, with great enjoyment of the earnest way in which the simple-minded marshal spoke. “ Toat’s just it, Hank. If I make yow fight, you'd have to kill me, you know, and I’m set on having you take a drink with me before you leave this ranch. I should be ashamed of my hospitality if 1 let you go.” hen, as they e pred he got closer to the marshal, and added, confidentially: ‘* There is another reason why I want you to be seen with me at my house, Hank. The boys have a kind of feeling that you might have let some one else arrest Tom, and I wish to show them that my family knows you only did your plain duty, and that, whatever the result of the trial, to take — to-morrow, we hold you as our friend, That is plain talk, from an old man.” The Marshal of Satanstown was silent: but it was easy to see, from the way his eyes filled, that be felt the words of the old judge. As soon as he could command bimself suf- ficiently to speak, he said, in a low, husky voice: ‘* Jedge, you’re a—a man, and that’s what there’s mighty few of ites I thank ye fur what ye’ve said, sir; I thank ye, Il thank ye!” And it was evident that he meant it. The old judge went on, presently: “* By the by, Hank, I am not so blind as sone might think, and there is another matter that I have long desired to speak to you about. My daughter Helen—” Here Hank turned his face to the judge, and i” ae frightened the old man, for he said, astily: 7, Why, what’s the matter? She basn’t told ou “She hain’t told me nothin’ but what a lady might tell, jedge,” the other answered, the pallor on bis face giving place to a slight flush. ‘She didn’t mean no harm, sir. She’s jest the noblest woman God ever made, and I'd be proud if sue’d ask me to die fur her. IV’ddoitina moment, jedge. Ye believe me, don’t ye?” The judge seemed to be puzzled by what he said, for he replied, hesitatingly: ** Why, yes, of course, I have seen that you were attached to her; but I bave never spoken to her on the subject, for I know that a woman sbould arrange those affairs to suit ber own ideas of what she wishes, and is willing to risk in life. But that was not what I wanted to say. It was this: Helen told me, some time ago, that you had asked her to be your wife. At that time ou had not sold your ranch, and | should ave been proud to bave you for a son-in-law. I say this sankey. because | know that you are different from the rest of the men round here. For all your ways of speaking, there are times when I bave heard you use language that shows you are not the rough-and-ready character the boys think you. But, at all events, she re- fused you, conditionally, as she said. Is not that so?’ ‘*The lady told me, sir, that she liked me—I wouldn’t say this to any one but her father, sir —but that she was not sure of herself, and did not dare to give me a decided answer. I know I’m not half-good enough for her—” “There, there; we won’t discuss that part of | the question. The woman who gets you, Hank, will get a man who can take care of her, at all | events. But we are getting near the bouse, and I must say what I have to say, quick. My eldest daughter, as you are aware, is very fond of her younger sister; and poor Di’s health is recarious justnow. She asked me, ifa woman oved a man, and wanted to demand a sacrifice from bim, which should test bis love to the ut- termost, whether she would be justified in ask- ing it, if her object was good, though the sacri- fice she asked might put her lover in grave peril of his life. 1 told her that she must be the judge of what she did. Then she asked me, further, whether an officer of the law, who al- lowed a prisoner to escape, if he knew him to be innocent, when his retention would lead to his being unjustly kiJled, would not be justified, before God, though men might abuse him there- for. Then I su ted what she was at. Tell me, Hank, bas she not been working on your ne — find a single person who had not expressed his opinion vigorously one way or the other on the subject. The hour set for the assembly of the court. was nine in the morning, and long before that time the streets were crowded with horses, standing, hoppled, before the doorsof the diffe-. ent bar-rooms, their owners being inside, tak- ing news and whisky alike, straight. The court-house was a small aud unpreten- tious frame building, with a single hal) that would bold about four bundred people, and the necessary rooms for the judge, district attorney, sheriff and otber court officers, with the jail—. also a frame building—close behind it. As soon as tbe court-bouse was opened, the cowboys began to flock in, and the citizens of Satanstown remarked that ‘‘ Hank bad come back,” for the men present had no arms, and the peace of the community was so much the better secured. Hank himself was witb a small party of bis deputies, at the entrance to the town where he halted everybody that came in and took their arms, with a searching scrutiny that did not allow for that day any of the usual permits to have any effect. Rich and poor alike, rancher and company man, had to submit to the stern mandate, and deliver their arms to the keeping of the quiet, feelings toward her, to get you to let Tom es- | but inflexible marshal, who took them and cape, if he should be convicted by any chance, before the jury?’ The marsbal had been listening, while the old man spoke; and now he faced the judge, with a light in bis eye that gave a dignity to his whole appearance the old man had never seen; thouga ank was a dignified man at his worst. ‘* Jedge Collin’sworth,” he said quietly. ‘‘ You are the lady's father, and you bave aright to ask me a good many things; but not that. What a lady tells a man is her secret: and be ain’t no man if he tells it to any one—even her father. Good-day, sir.” And with that he suddenly dashed his spurs into the flanks of his borse, and galloped off as hard as he could go, in the direction of the town, leaving the judge to pursue his way in a thoughtful frame of mind. The old man watched the figure of the stal- wart marshal, as he went, till it disappeared over the tep of a swell, and then turned his pony to the house again. e arrived there, to find everything quiet as usual, with his ae Diana, in the bam- mock, chatting with ber husband. The first question he asked, as he dismounted at the porch, was: ‘* Where’s Helen?” | The answer camefrom Diana, delivered. with the usual glibness of a young lady, who is screening another. She had a headache, and ‘Up stairs, sir. had to go and lie down.” “Hum!” said her father. ‘‘ Anybody been here, while | was gone? Hank Kimble, for in- stance?” The judge, being the father of daughters, had more knowledge of human nature, in the fem- inine department, than the average bachelor, and he wished to keep bis younger daughter from telling unnecessary fibs to screen her sis- te r. Diana, who had been prepared to deny any- thing, saw that it would be best to tell the truth; so she answered: : ‘Yes, sir; Mr. Kimble was here, and he asked Tom where you were.” ‘“* Did he see Helen?” asked the judge, keenly. ‘* Why, yes, sir, lthink so. Didn’t be, Tom?” She turned to her husband to help her woman-like; and Tom, being a man, said: ** Yes, sir, Helen asked him into the parlor, and they bad quite a talk.” ‘‘Thank you,” was all the judge replied, and he went into the house, when Diana burst out to ber husband, in guarded tones, lest her father should hear her: “There now! if ever I ask you! to help me again, you’ll know it, sir. Couldn’t you see I didn’t want you tosay anything more than you could help? I declare, you are the stupidest, os blundering, most ill-natured, most, most, most—’’ | that he had brought for the perpe t ee stored them away in a large two horse truck se. The English agent for the cattle company had to be disarmed the same as tbe rest, though he rotested against the demand as an insult; but he made no more than a verbal resistance, for he had not forgotten the lesson that Hank had administered to him a few days before, and had no fancy for another shot, though the marshal to all appearance was unarmed, save for a rifle at bis back. : But Berkeley had been effectually cowed by the talk of Mr. Belshazzar Levy, who was anx- ious for the safety of his client, and bad warn- ed him solemnly against having any trouble with Hank, who was “up to all sorts of tricks,” as he expressed it. When the hour arrived for the court to open, the marshal rode away, with his truckful of weapons, leaving the most resolute of his depu- ties to disarm oy stragglers that might come after the main y; for he knew every man in the county by sight, and all the bard cases had gone to town, before the time of opening court, The only people that had not come, were Top Notch Tom and Judge Collingsworth, who had not arrived when he took his departure, To tbe court-house went Hank, baving been engaged for the day as a special officer, in addi- tion to his town duties, and charged with the preservation of order. When he arrived there, his first step was to ut the confiscated arms into the jail, for safe eeping, without the knowledge of the people, and then be entered the court with bis depu'ies, and found the crier announcing that the high- court was open for the transaction of such busi- ness as might come before it, in the name of the State of Texas. Mr. Cross, the district attorney , who bad been. on @ grand spree, the night before, with Bel- shezzar Levy, was in his place, trying to look as if his head was not splitting, but not succeed- ing, while the Jew, who was a more cautious drinker, was quiet and business-like, and had his papers all ready to p ‘ e sheriff bustled up to Hank, to ask, in tones of secret anxiety, ‘‘ whether he had prisoner with bim.” Hank shook bis bead, as he answered: ‘‘“You gave me no orders to get him. His: bondsman will bring bim.” ‘‘But he ain’t byar,” the sheriff exclaimed, nervously. ‘‘ I’m gittin’ to be ’feard that he’s skipped, Hank.” Hank turned on the sheriff to say: “If Top Notch Tom skips, I'l) go inter the dock in his pen sir. Will that do?” The sheriff was about to answer, when a buzz in the court-room announced that sometbing excited the popular interest; and the venerable white head of Judge Collings orth was seen, advancing to the , while Top Notch Tom And, in default of words, she gave Tom a | walked beside bim. pinch, that convinced him she was an actually hurt him a little, when he she added spitefully: _ ‘It serves you right, and me too, for trust- ing to a man,in acase of this sort. would you have been, if people had treated you that way, when were courting, sir.” And Diana pouted in earnest. CHAPTER XXIII, A PRAIRIE TRIAL. THE streets of Satanstown were crowded the next day with people from all the country round, who. bad come to see the trial of Top Noteh Tom for the murder of James Bruce, the cowboy desperado. The motive on the Fos of those who came was not the idle euriosity that usually leads men into a court, for the county was divided : for it | prisoner to you. The old judge came straight to the sheriff, need, and | and said. so that the whole court could bear: ‘Mr. Sheriff, I bave the honor to deliver the He is not afraid to stand the consequences of anything he has done.” . Then there was a slight outburst of applause; for the people had made a hero of Tom, and the young man was a bis very best that day. He was dressed in all the finery of the Mexi- can style that he affected; and bis long baer was carefully brushed and curled, while his face, though rather pale, wore its most resolute expression. Then the sheriff took the prisoner to the bar, and the district attorney rose, preliminary to choosing a : Th —— were called up and examined & one by one; the being his own counsel for the trial; , after a prolonged session, in into two hostile camps, on the question of Tom | which Top Notch Tom astonished Levy by the Field’s guilt or innocence, and it was difficult to | way in which he handled his own cuse, a jury” y GomiGcneo CS