Beadle's Dime Library No. 327 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

* eyen whimper, but \ fit generally, i -tand it, and he stared reverently at his chief, who had been ereenty raised in his estimation by his feat with the lasso, As for Jaunot, he had not a word to say for himself. He, also, had been overpowered mentally, as well as physicall , by the fling of the lasso, and reali the fact that it was useless to fight against fate as represented by Ben Lawson. He made no appeal for mercy, and did not uietly submitted to being tied securely and laid on the ground to rest dur- ing the remainder of the night. n the morning he was there safe enough, and Neptune wanted to know what was to be done with him. ‘“Gib um big whippin’ 1 guess so,” was the Indian’s suggestion. ‘‘ Nothing of the kind,” replied Lawson. ‘‘ We will give him a good breakfast. I don’t blame the man for what he did, Nep. He couldn't help it. He was born a thief, was brought up a thief, and has never bad a chance to be any- thing buta thief. He would steal his grand- mother’s nea if he could find nothing else to take. Just think of his stealing from us, after what we had done for him! hy, the very enormity of the offense, showing the quintessence of ingratitude, speaks of a species of insanity.” This was far beyond the comprehension of the Indian, and he contented himself with staring. “We will return good for evil,” continued Ben. ‘‘ The only punishment that could cure him of stealing would be one that would leave no lifein him. I think it better to buy him than to break him. Ishall try to persuade him to steal on our side,” The astonishment of Jaunot at this turn in his affairs was only equaled by his effusive thank- fulness. ' No doubt he had fully expected that the out- come of his exploit would be nothing less than another pln ma which would be very severe upon his sore back. When he was untied and placed before a hot and savory breakfast, with full license to stuff himself to his utmost capacity, he broke down burst into tears, and seemed to be honestly and thoroughly penitent. After breakfast Lawson ‘gave him a pipe and a quantity of tobacco, and detailed to him some careful instructions as to his future movements, which he swore by all the saints to faithfully observe. He was also promised a rifle, and a good out- his efforts in the cause of his new friend should ae successful. Then he was loaded with provisions, and was sent on his way rejoicing. CHAPTER XXIV. JOE JEFFARD, Wuen Ben Lawson and his guide reached Staley’s tavern on the Penobscot they were heartily welcomed by the proprietor, Sam Staley, who had been favorably impressed by Lawson’s manhood and ‘his liberality on the occasion of his brief stay there a little while ago. “Staley’s was rather better than most of the rude hostelries that were scattered through the wilderness, being a pretty substantial log build- ing, with sufficient outhouses, ii contained a bar, of course, a cook-room that also served as a sitting-room, sleeping ac- commodations for travelers, such as they were and a shelter for supplies and other articles tha were left there for safe-keeping or to be for- warded. Sam Staley was a stalwart six-footer, easy- going, and not too pinch-fingered, in his deal- ings. Fis household consisted of his wife, his nearly 39wn son Tom, and an Irishman named Mike Molloy, who was employed as a man of all work. Occasionally guests were to be met there— hunters, timber-prospectors and the like—but they amounted only to a few stragglers until winter set in, and logging began, and the regu- lar teamsters, or drogers, came up from below with loads of supplies for the logging-camps, There was one guest at the tavern when Law- son and his guide arrived, and they recognized him at once. He was the same man whom they had pre- viously met there—the man who had “preyed upon wson’s mind—the man who been described to them by Antoine Jaunot as Joe Jeffard. He was a tall man, inclined to be lean and lanky, with a thin face that would have been cadaverous if it had not been bloated and discolored by his recent extravagant use of iquor. nate hair was black, and his eyes were dark, and his face was heavily bearded, and the expression of so much of his countenance as could be seen was not such as might inducea r to cultivate his acquaintance, His age might have been guessed at any figure between thirty and forty; but he was probably not as old as he seemed to be. As to his attire, it was of stout and substantial stuff, suited in quality and style to a life in the woods, and had presented a good a L$ eats 17 there are men out in the woods hunting him. | Have you met any such men?” ‘** Not that I know of,” answered Jeffard, as | he gulped down another cup of rum. ‘I only mind my own business.” ‘* What is your business, if it is a fair ques- tion?” ** Drinking rum.” _. There was a quizzical look on Jeffard’s face during this interview—a partial closing of one eye, and a suspicion of a sneer under his mus- tache. Clearly he was more wide awake than he ap- pretee to be, and fully aware of the object of is entertainer. He was not drunk enough yet to be success Terrapin Dick. pearance not long since, when it was new; but his habits, rather than the wear and tear of the forest, had given it a shabby and disreputable look. He had evidently been drinking heavily, and was seated on a stool in a half doze when the strangers came in, hardly glancing at them as | ree entered. | ey took scarcely any more notice of him, | being easily satisfied as to who he was, and went on to respond to the pleasant greetings of Sam Staley and his son Tom, to whom Lawson gave directions for the care of his ‘‘ plunder” | and the safe bestowal of his skiff. | ‘* How did you happen to git back so soon?” | inquired Staley. ‘‘I thought you meant to go _ ’way off and take a big hunt.” | fully pumped, and it was doubtful whether ‘I got tired of that,” answered Ben, ‘‘ We | there was rum enough at Staley’s to fit him for went up to the head of that creck which you | the oe: . called a river—that is, we went on until the ‘* That is a good business,” observed Ben Law- bottom came up to the top—and there was no | son—‘‘for the man who sells the rum. It is a way of going further but by footing it. That business that the man who drinks it is likely to disgu me, and I chose to come back here and | stick to if he gets a fair hold of it, until it gets take a fresh start, or to go home.” | afoul hold of him, and downs him. I should ‘* Better stay here a while and think it over,” | think, my friend—Have another drink?+—that suggested Staley. ‘‘Id be tarnation glad to you might find some business that would be have you Sal more profitable in the end. Have you been ‘* Perhaps I may, if you will treat me well.” sticking to Staley’s ever since I was here be- Ul do my best, Mr. Lawson. You can | fore?” “*T will bet high on that.” ‘* No,” was the surly answer. Lawson presceded to patronize the bar, in- ‘* Been off in the woods some, perhaps.” viting the landlord, his son, and Neptune—an ¥ Maybe so. I take a hunt whenever I feel like it.’ ‘‘ As we all do. In the course of your hunts have you happened to come across a gang of thieving Kanucks who are prowling about the woods, picking up whatever they can lay their hands on?” te No. ? ‘““That is queer. I have heard of a man among them who exactly answers to your de- re pm and I had supposed that you might be t man.” If Joe Jeffard had not drank his senses away, he had drank himself into a quarrelsome mood, and had been rapidly approaching the fighting weeps _ He jumped up, red-eyed, wrathy, and roar- ing. fie was a formidable customer to look at, too, as he carried a revolver and a knife in plain invitation which the last one eagerly poe pp He also called up the man on the stool, who was not too drowsy to hear the ‘ invite,” but | came forward after the manner of a bummer in a city gin-mill. Thus Ben formed the acquaintance of Joe Jeffard, and he lost no time in cultivating it. He had noticed that the landlord’s treatment of the guest in possession was rather off-hand | and none too friendly, from which fact he drew the conclusion that Jeffard was not a welcome guest. It was probable that he was given to drinking more than was good for him, and that he was short of money—two circumstances of which Ben expected to avail himself. There was one question which was a little puzzling. What was the man doing there, if he had be- come the leader of the band of Kanucks? sight. Jaunot’s description of him had been so accu- ‘* ve had enough of you!” he shouted. ‘‘ You rate that the rest of that scamp’s statements | have been insulting me ever since I sat down must be accepted as true. | here, and I have stood all 1 mean to stand from The qayeoeition was that the operations of the | you. First you pitch on me about a murder, vagabonds were not such as might be held to and then about a gang of-Kanucks. You constitute a flourishi a 9 as well try to make me out a murderer liquors at Staley’s anda thief. I have a great mind to lick you.” Ben Lawson had also risen, and seem surprised at this outburst. ** To lick me?” he mildly inquired. ‘* Yes—to whip you—to flog you—to smash your head.” ‘* Don’t try it, my friend. You couldn't whip one side of me. Cool down, and let your great mind become small by degrees and utifully less. You needn’t make any motion toward your pistol. You could never begin to shoot as quick asI-can. Better cool down.” | At that moment the heavy paw of Sam Staley was laid on Jeffard’s shoulder, and the stalwart laridlord took a hand in the game. . ‘* You’ve got to go away from here,” said he. ‘** You drink too much rum, and make a darned nuisance of yourself. More’n that, you don’’ pay for what you git. When you went away the last time, you promised to come and pay ; but you’ve only run deeper in debt. . Now you've got to clear out, and you'd better do it ae will 0,” replied Jeffard, who had evident- | business, and that the strong attractions for Jeffard. | This was one of the points that Lawson pro- posed to investigate. When Tom Staley and Neptune had gone out to look after the skiff and its contents, he called for more rum, and seated himself ata rude table to be near his ‘‘ subject,” whom he invited to partake of the fluid from Medford. The offer was accepted, and the inviter pro- ag to put his pumping apparatus in opera- ion. ; But there was one quality lacking in Ben wson, " He was not sufficiently endowed with secret- iveness to become a good detective. He was too straightforward and out-spoken —apt to blurt out his thoughts without regard to consequences, and not inclined to try to get at information in a sly and shady manner. Perhaps, too, he supposed that Jeffard’s half- inebriated condition so blunted his intelli- gence as to make him an easy subject for the operations of the pump. If that was his idea, he soon had reason to be- ly taken Lawson’s advice and cooled down, lieve that it was a mistaken one. ‘** Where is my rifle?” ; Jeffard was willing enough to absorb the rum ‘* Here itis. Clear out, now, and don’t come he bought, but was alert and on his guard as | soon “7 a subject was broached that concerned ! ‘Seems to me that I must have met you somewhere down country,” remarked Lawson. ‘* There is something in your face that is famil- um blossoms the other. ‘‘Not that, exactly. At least, there was nothing of the kind in your face when I met you —if I did meet you. ere you ever in avi named Cranston?’ ‘* Never heard of such a place,” was the stolid reply. t No? I thought I might have seen you there. That is the village where a murder was commit- ted some time ago. An old lady was strangled in her bed. Perhaps you have heard of it.” ‘* Yes—I heard you talking about it when you were here before.’ **You remember that, hey?” ** Yes, and you took such a lively interest in it that I wondered if you were the man who mur- | “He may come back without being sent for. dered her.” He said he would, and, from what I know of the ‘‘I don’t happen to be that man, and I don’t | man, I am inclined to believe that he will. He know who the man is, or was, or may have may come back in a way that won't be agreeable been. There is a man who is accused of the | to you. What name has he gone by here?” murder—a poor devil named Nick Sanders, and |; ‘* He calls himself Jim Jeffers.” Some people are sure that he is guilty. . ‘* That is something like his real name, which bring us some more rum, please.—It is.said that is Joe Jeffard. You have heard, I suppose, of a he is somewhere in this part of the country, and | band of thieving Kanucks who have been prowl- Eomichbooks.co ef. here ag’in.” ‘Tf you think I won’t come here again,” said . Jeifard as he turned to go, ‘** you are fooled.” CHAPTER XXV. JAUNOT KEEPS FAITH. ““ITt seems to me that I didn’t that business quite as well as itmight have been man- aged,” muttered Ben Lawson, as he looked after the unsteadil Php edery ms form of Jeffard. ‘* What’s that you say, Mr. Lawson?’ inquir- ed the landlord. ‘*T wanted to get some information out of that fellow—information that might be a valuable to me and some other people—but missed it. He was not as drunk as I thought he was, and my pump failed to work. I was just saying that I was afraid I had not managed it well.’ “Pm sorry for that, Mr. Lawson. If you Yerensoehy of sents I think I can get him back here, and we will squeeze it out of him.”