Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 339 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

an’ sot. in her smiles. ‘the woman he worshi ‘* Possibly that is the very reason,” smiled esse. ‘‘It mought be, lad—they’s reason in that,” slowly commented Spread Eagle, adding with a sly twinkle of his gray eyes: ‘‘Sorter ’minds me of the ole man pone an’ groutin’, [ wouldn’t wonder; fambly likeness, like! Waal, may the likeness grow fainter an’ the ‘lationship clusser together ontil the ole man finds he’s got a son an’ daughter all rolled into one—which is the solemn senterments o’ yourn truly, 8. In- galls!” Jesse Purchass ventured no reply or comment, but Spread Eagle Sam saw that he was by no means mortally offended by that neat little speech. And with renewed energy he returned to the attack: ‘* But this ain’t business. 1 sot out to tell ye how it come that the milk o’ human kindness was turned to bonny clabber in the ole man. ‘*T reckon you know pritty well how rich he is now, but in them days, forty year ago, he was poor enough. A smarter hunter an’ trapper didn’t draw breath than him, nur many hev a more stiddy streak o’ good luck with the traps. His count was sure to be way up ’mongst the top notches when the season closed, but his money melted away like the fu’st snow afore a hot un. ‘Not that he spent it in drinkin’, keerds or wimmin, He wasn’t that sort. He was stiddy as the moral law. But what was his b’longed to his fri’nds, an’ they tuck full ’vantage of his open hands, too. ‘* Waal, the ole man taught me pritty much all I know ’bout huntin’ an’ trap in’. I struck out fer my own self when he ’cluded to settle eo as a trader, with head-quarters at St. aul. ‘* That was the fu’st of his makin’ money han’ over fist. Everythin’ he tetched ’peared to turn into gold, an’ it wasn’t long afore folks begun to say that Morris Kirkendall was wu’th more money than ary other two traders in the hull No’thwest. ‘* Better fer him if this hed bin all a lie, or the rumor never tuck to itself wings long enough to reach her ears!” ‘‘ A woman in the case, was there?’ slowly asked Purchass. ‘‘That’s what the critter passed fer, then,” was the sober response, ‘‘ How fur she desarved the name, you kin jedge when I’ve reached the eend o’ the trail. ‘*T was ’way off the time if come about; down in the lower neem but I got the story pritty straight in the eend. ‘*The ole man tuck a business trip south, an’ when he come back, he brung a wife with him. She was a monstrous fine-lookin’ critter all folks agreed, and Kirkendall jes’ b’lieved the sun rose © was more’n a woman to him; she was heaven an’ airth to him then. More’s the pity! but the time wasn’t long in comin’ when he see she wasn’t them, but the other place, biled down an’ double distilled.” ‘* He was pritty nigh the las’ man in town to make the diskivery. He was wich tes good sheer 0 the time, ‘long o’ her ’suasions, too, She was a monstrous big aes an’ hed a powerful long head full o’ business. She ’vi him to branch out his business, an’ so make lots more money. He tuck her ’vice, an’ it all come true as she said. He was jes’ pilin’ up gold by the bushel, while she—waal, sense death’s wiped out all them old scores, I won’t rake ’em up no more then I kin nel ‘* He come home onexpectedly one night, and thinkin’ only how glad his wife would be to see him so much afore his time, he hurried home. He found her—he found another man thar afore him, too! “The awful diskivery knocked all the stren’th out o’ the ole man, an’ afore he could rekiver Se the other feller filled him chuck-full o’ **One o’ the neighbors happened to find Kirk- endall late the next day, layin’ thar like a dead man. It was a mighty cluss call, but he got over it in time, though he left one leg ahind him in the grave. He hed l’arned it all—l’arned how hed bin spendin’ his money an’ racin’ ’round with other men while he was hard at work fer her—how she hed man- idged to git away with the biggest sheer o’ his wealth an’ cl’ar out with her lover while he la thar like a dead man—awn’ he swore that he’d git well an’ live ontel he hed wiped out the stain with thar hearts’ blood. ‘* He did git well, an’ he never fergot the oath he tuck that day. He got up acripple, a man without a heart, without a grain o’ love fer his kind left in his karkiss. ‘Course he was ’way off, but then he hed turrible provokin’, you must see ‘““ Afore he was well enough to travel, Morris Kirkendall sot lawyers to work fer a divorce, He hed money enough left to spur ’em up Brel an’ he didn’t spar’ no expense. He got his bill, an’ then sot out fer revinge. ; ‘‘He hed thousands 0’ copies made o’ her pic- tur’s, an’ he printed ’em in every newspaper he could git at, with a full scription o’ her from top to toe, follered by her full record jes’ as his detectives hed worked it up. That was his fu’st blow, an’ he follered it up fer months. — ee ee = Se ee —_—<— = = ee — — LP Spread Eagle Sam. ‘‘ When he was able to-travel, he tuck up the trail which his men hed kep’ sight of, an’ never rested ontel he run the man an’ woman to earth *°way down in Mexico, whar they’d fled to git out o range o’ them pictures an’ the record, Thar was powder burned when the two men faced each other, but this time Morris Kirken- dall was ready fer business, an’ he wasn’t the one that got left. It was more’n a case o’ broken leg, then; it wasa heart so full o’ holes it mought sarve as a skimmer. ‘“ The ole man never said a word to the wo- man. He never lifted hand nur foot at her. He jes’ let her be with the dead man, an’ rid away as he come. He hated her too bad to kill her then. She hed done him wuss hurt then the man, Fer him, death was good enough. Fur her, it was a heap too good! ‘*In them days, I reckon the ole man was a bit mate 8 No right-minded man could ’a’ done the work as cunnin’ an’ as sure as he did. It tuck a crazy man to hide from her eyes so slick, yit never once lose sight o’ her. N One but a man with a onstiddy brain would lay low fer months at a time, lettin’ her think she hed giv’ him the slip at last, only to wake up one mornin’ to find them pictur’s an’ that black record starin’ her in the face from every side—to see that all the people ’round her knowed what she was an’ what she hed bin! ‘* No, I cain’t make it seem that the ole man was in his sober senses them days. Ef 1 could— ef I could b’lieve it, good fri’nd as he was to me when I most needed help—I reckon I couldn’t never look him squar’in the face ag’in! Hewas crazy—an’ that she-wolf made him so!” There was a troubled look in those frank blue eyes as the big hide-hunter stared at vacancy, one hand slowly rubbing his bearded chin. ) was like a man arguing against his own convic- tions. The face of his companion, too, was grave and thoughtful, while his voice, as he finally broke the silence which had fallen over them, was low and sounded unnatural: ‘It was to her—to this woman—he had refer- ence when he said my face reminded him of that she-wolf !” wphpets Eagle Sam turned sharply and stared at the speaker with wide-open eyes, a short ex- clamation breaking forth. ‘‘ She did hev a son—she was a widder when the ole man married her. Ef that boy was livin’ now, he’d be ’bout your age—somethin’ like thirty-five year!” ‘* Remarkably close!” laughed Purchass, his black eyes glowing, his lip curling. ‘“ Only re years older than I am—a mere baga- elle ** You look older then that, lad; a heap older. I could almost take oath you was all of thirty- five,” gravely added Spread Eagle. The sneering laugh abruptly ended. The fire in those jetty eyes deepened and grew brighter, while the white teeth showed themselves in a evens snarl: ‘Do you dare hint that I am the son of that woman?” ** Not ef you say you ain’t, Jes’,” was the sober reply. NY do say it! I am not her son. I never knew her. I have heard her story this day for the first time, Shall I get down on my knees and take oath to that effect?” Sam Ingalls flushed a little at that last sen- tence, uttered with a stinging sarcasm that cut deep and sharp as the stroke ofa whiplash. But he held his temper well in hand, and knowing from past experience what an inflammable tem- per he had to deal with, really liking the youn man in spite of his failings, he managed to smoot down the ruffled feathers. ‘** You're goin’ off at half-cock, lad, when they ain’t no finger tetchin’ your trigger, nuther. Did I say you was her son? No. Your words *minded me of what I fergot while tellin’ the Hag that she hed a boy when she was married to Kirkendall, who went off an’ never was hearn of any more, so fur’s I kin say. What ’come o’ hin, [ll never tell. Ef the ole man knows, he never breathed it to me, an’ thick as I hev bin with him, ’'d hate mightily to ax him an questions consarning the young imp—’deed would, lad!” ‘You need not on my account, Sam,” with a lightlaugh. ‘I care nothing for either the wo- man or theson, They are no more to me than they are to you.” ‘*Darned glad to hear it, too!” exclaimed Spread Eagle Sam as he grasped the young man’s hand and shook it warmly. ‘As I said afore, I like you a heap, an’ [ll do all I kin in ee I i = young companion. ‘‘What do you mean by that, young feller?” “ty simply repeated your own words concern- ing his wife.” ‘* But not her mother, thank the Lord!” and Sam removed his hat, looking toward the blue heavens with a reverential air. ‘‘ Her mother was a angel on airth, even as she is a angel in heaven this day!” **'Then Morris Kirkendall married again?” ** When his work o’ vengeance was at an eend, yes. He married—the purest, sweetest, bright- est little woman the good Lord ever placed on His footstool!” The voice of the big hide-hunter was soft and grave, but there was a faint tremor in his tones that caused Jesse Purchass to gaze at him with opened eyes; opened in more senses than one. But he made no comment, quietly waiting until Spread Eagle Sam was sentir to resume his nar- rative. That was not long. The big hide-hunter uickly regained control of his feelings, and though, whenever he had occasion to allude to the second wife of his old employer, his voice was gentle and grave, he showed no other signs of that long-hidd@en scar. ‘*'Yes, Morris Kirkendall married ag’in when he knowed that his fu’st wife was dead an?’ one. ‘* He did not kill her?” ventured Purchass. ‘‘ Not with his own hand, nur yit by hevin’ men take her life,” slowly replied Sam, ‘TI cain’t say jes’ how she died; I never hearn the hull story. The ole man only told me she’d gone me meet her last a’count, an’ I let it go at that. ‘‘That second wife was the mother o’ little Luada. She didn’t live long—hardly long say to teach the baby how to walk an’ begin to talk: then she went up above. ‘* It fell monstrous hard onto old Morris, an’ I reckon it sorter made him turn ag’in’ the Lord fer good an’ all. Only fer the little ‘un, I do think he’d ’a’ tuck his own life. As it was—l was with him them days—I hed my han’s full to keep him in the land o’ the livin’. ‘* He got over that, though, in time, an’ to all the rest o’ the world he *peared hard an’ gratin” as a grindstone. To me an’ little Luada he was kind an’ human enough. Waal, let that go; it belongs to the past. ** The ole man tuck to trade ag’in, an’ his old luck seemed to come back Fea oy He made money hand over fist. He gave himself up to that, an’ to his child. He hed faith in no one else, an’ I sometimes thought he even looked on me with s’picion! ‘* He watched her grow up, an’ was sorry that she couldn’t al’ays stop a child with him. More’n once he ed it over with me, when the season’s work was over an’ I went thar fer a set- tlement. You wouldn’t think it, from what you've see’d 0’ him, lad, but it’s truth I’m tellin’ ye when I say that I’ve see’d him break down an’ cry ontel the tears made little rivers down his cheeks, as he thought 0’ the days a-comin” when the little gal would think o’ tryin’ her own wings an’ flyin’ from the home-nest to one o’ her own with a he-mate!” : Jesse Purchass laughed softly, as he replied: ‘‘It is rather difficult to imagine the Morris: Kirkendall I have had the honor of serving, a male Niobe! Tears? I'd as soon think of look- ing for spring-water in the center of that block of sandstone!” ; ‘¢ You don’t know him as I do,” was the quiet reply. ‘‘They ain’ta kinder, more ginerous heart in all creation then the very one that hides inside that rough kiverin’ o’ his’n, When you come to know him clean through, you'll say the same.” = &.. ‘‘ Let us hope so!” with a mock devout air. ‘‘ He showed the roughest side to you, lad, jes’ as he would to any other as come to him with *tentions 0’ winnin’ his one ewe lamb from him. She’s heaven and airth to him. He lives only fer her, an’ hes thoughts an’ plans fer nothin’ ‘“He knows that she’s growin’ to the age when it’s nat’ral to think o’ gittin’ married, but he’s detarmined that whoever wins her must airn her honestly, an’ show hisself a man in doin” it. Jesse Purchass laughed, short and bitterly. ‘“‘ He said as much to me, when I[ went to biny with my suit. He called me a weakling—the shadow of aman! He said for me to go out on the plains and find Spread EagleSam. He bade me make a record to equal his, then come back to him if I cared to repeat my prayer. “That was a year ago. Upto that day [I . reason to fetch pont troubles to a happy eend; | had never discharged a gun or a pistol in my but I won’t go back onto the ole man without good cause. He made meall I am. I owe him | I had never been further west than St. life. I knew nothing of prairie life; but I Paul. many a act 0’ kindness, an’ ef I ever come face | resolved to learn all thesethings. Iwent away, to face with a inemy 0’ his, I'll take or lose a | as he thought in despair. Instead, I bought me skelp—sure !” ; AoE aim Sou at Pot bevertimne togive me the | aiiay 1s Pashia Se. re the best: of teachers. wink, Sam. Though I can’t say I worship the rifle and pistols, and went to learning how to bad plenty of money, and could afford I spared no time, old man, I do adore his daughter, and my one | money nor trouble, until—well, I am here, ready hope in life is to win her for a wife—even though | to make the trial.” her mother bore a thousand-fold as black a re- “Her mother? Black record?” g Sam, staring almost savagely into the face of his | ‘An’ you think you kin ekil my record?” laughed Sam. ‘*T can try.” ‘¢ You know how to shoot now?” com JOO gs) (E iy es Pld ye ot — nee »s ; “J > ee ad yt oo ee ™ -_