Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 345 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

de - i. ,' Mask ed Mark, the Mounted Detective. mm ee ee neither one attempts to make use of a deadly weapon, and the fight ends the moment one is knocked out, or cries enough. Do you agree, gentlemen?” Before either could answer, Jessie called out clear and sharp, at the same time i a revolver from a fold in her dress, where her lit- tle right hand had been hiding it. ‘“Tts got to be fair play! Dll drill the one who attempts to foul—whether it be one of the fight- ers or one of the lookers-on! You want to make a note of that, all!” *¢ You Jes’!” cried Dike, one hand going up to his face to cover the broad grin called into exist- ence by the pluck of his petticoated idol. ‘¢ Yes, pap,” was the obedient reply. ‘‘ But all the same you can take your share of the warn- ing. I mean business. The Parson shall have fair play, or I'll know the reason why!” this was bitter as gall to Demas Fee, and with a muffled how], he strode forward, brushing the colonel from his path, and then rushing furi- ously upon his rival. Even yet he could not believe that Alva Bohee was any other than the weakling he had set him down at first sight. e felt that he could crush him down at one stroke, and burning to show Jessie how poor and trifling was her cham- pion, he cast all prudence and science to the winds. Lightly, laughing softly, Alva Bohee eluded his furious rush, dodging to one side and again leaving the print of his gloved fingers on the cheek nearest to him. It was an open-handed stroke, though it sounded almost like a pistol crack, so much power was lent to it by those de- ceiving arms and shoulders of the Parson. Dike Roberts smothered a grim chuckle. Jes- sie laughed outright as she saw the blow and noted how savagely Demas Fee smote the air where his rival had stood an instant before. Col- onel Vanderlyn frowned darkly and tugged his huge mustache until some of the cherished hairs came out in his grasp. He was cool enough to see the Parson’s object, and he saw, too, that he was in a fair way of gaining it. Fairly blinded with rage, hatred and mortifi- cation, Demas Fee whirled around and rushed at his foe after the same manner, attempting no guard, caring nothing for the eee’ he might receive so he could once get his arms about 6 Parson and bring him to close quarters. en— This time Bohee did not dodge or give an inch, but with a straight, swift blow he checked the rush of his wl antagonist, his gloved knuckles cutting through the skin and sending a little ray of blood over the flushed face. It was a blow that would have lifted nearly any man clear off his feet, but it only propped Demas Fee up straight, leaving his face unguarded for a second and a third blow from these small but dangerous fists. Spat—spat ! the blows came, and with a muf- fled howl, the athletic ranchero staggered back a pace and fell heavily. nly to roll over swiftly, in order to evade the expected onset, then scrambling to his feet and dashing the blood from his eyes to behold the Parson coolly awaiting him, pens prim “Why, you eae devil F? he exc aimed, in lofty contempt, as Fee steadied himself, ag mee so- bered by the punishment already received. “Who told you you were a fighter? You could t Set rae for slander before any court in the Fand 7 A merry laugh coming from the lips of Jessie Roberts added to the hot rage which filled Demas Fee to overflowing as he heard those almost pity- ing words, and forgetting his half-formed resolu- tion to fight with more coolness, he again rushed headlong upon his punishment. Swift and viciously those gloved hands did their work, each stroke leaving its mark behind it, adding to the di ing appearance of the bully’s face, now covered with the blood that flowed from a dozen cuts. Yet, terribly as he was punishing his antagonist, those who watch- ed the exciting event felt in their hearts that Alva Bohee was holding his powers in reserve. It seemed to them that he was able to end the ficht at any moment the fancy took him. They felt that he was determined to make Demas Fee a sample to circulate among those who had openly expressed their dislike or contempt for the Parson—and they were right! Alva Bohee felt that he could no longer main- tain his peaceful character and live on Rack- about Range. He knew that Demas Fee was quite generally regarded as a sort of chief and leader by the young bloods of the , and for that reason, among others, he resolved to set him up as an example. Demas Fee showed plenty of pluck and a won- derful ability to endure punishment, but that was about all the part he took in the fight, after the first blow was struck. Not once did he suc- in comirg to a close with his active an- tagonist, and only two or three times did his heavy fists touch Bohee; nor then with force enough to make any impression, much less turn the tide that set so heavily against him from the ‘When you come again, bully, you'll go down to stay,” said Bohee, coldly, as he stood at ease, waiting for Fee to regain his feet. ‘‘I've writ- - —————— —_—_——— See ten my proclamation to your fellows on your face in characters plain enough for the most stupid of them all to read aright, and that is all I wanted. If you have suffered enough, say so, and Ill omit the closing act.” ‘*Not yet—Tm man enough to down you yet, ou laughing devil!” panted Fee, broding the lood from his almost closed eyes. ‘‘Are you? Then—business !” grated Bohee, leaping forward. He tapped Demas on the temple with one hand, then sent his other straight at the un- guarded throat. Without a groan or a sound, the athlete fell backward, striking the ground with the lifeless sound which a bag “of sand would give. That alone was proof how thor- oughly Bohee had kept his word, and as the colonel sprung to pick up his friend, the Parson turned away to put on his coat, without taking the trouble to glance at his fallen antagonist. ‘** You’ve killed him with your infernal skill!” cried Colonel Vanderlyn, as he raised up the ghastly head. ‘* If so, he would have it, remember,” was the cold retort. ‘* But you are needlessly alarmed. Give him a cold bath, lance his eyes alittle more than I have done, and he will be on his feet in an hour. I only wanted to punish him.” ‘*Durned if you didn’t do it, too!” muttered Roberts, a curious conflict visible in his eyes and on his weather-beaten countenance. ‘‘ As prit- ty work as I ever see’d—but all the same, young feller, you don’t want to come back here no more—mind that, now, will ye ” ‘*T make no promises—only this,” and Alva turned toward Jessie, who leaped forward to meet him as he held out his bare hands, the bloody gloves being cast aside. ‘‘Il am coming back for your answer, little one, when I thin you have had time suflicient for weighing the matter carefully. Until then, adieu!” He bowed his head over the little hand, de- spite the surly growl which Dike Roberts gave, then turned toward the colonel. ‘‘Tf your dear friend has not got all the satis- faction he can digest, colonel, he knows where I may be found at any time. Or, if he has any friends who would like to take up his quarrel where he left off, I will be most happy to ac- commodate them as far as it lies in my power.” Colonel Vanderlyn nodded, but said nothing. ‘Then, allow me to bid you all good-day,” lifting his perforated hat with exaggerated liteness. ‘‘I will attend the meeting at Stoke- ly’s, called for this evening. I hope Mr. Fee will be sufficiently himself to be present.” He turned and strode away to his horse, mounting and riding off at a rapid pace. CHAPTER XI. THE GATHERING AT STOKELEY’S. ‘‘ STOKELY’S” was situated nearly in the center of the vast tract of land known as Rackabout Range, and was rather a novelty after its way. This range was far from any town or place sufficiently large to furnish supplies in large quantities, such as are required by a number of stock ranches, and it was not only inconvenient but expensive for the ranchers to do their own freighting. Im consequence, after fully discuss- ing the situation, the ranchers ‘‘chipped in” and had a good-sized building erected near the center of their claims, to answer as a sort of tavern, store, public hall, and place of general utility. At first the building and its privileges were yearly disposed of by lot, for there was a good profit made on selling goods to the other members of the association; but before long this short tenure proved unsatisfactory, and when a stranger came to the annual sale and bid a fair rice for the situation, offering to purchase the uilding if the owners would sell, and to give bonds to keep a sufficient stock of goods on hand to supply any reasonable demand by the ranch- ers, Colonel Vanderlyn moved that the offer be accepted at once. His advice was followed, and from that day the ‘‘ Longhorn Ranch” became known to men as ‘“‘ Stokeley’s,” after the man who purchased it. were four in the Stokeley family, anda rare quartette they made, sure enough! Clem Stokeley, the eldest and the one who ef- fected the transfer, was fleshy when he first en- tered the presence of the Rackabout Range syn- dicate, but he had grown immensely fat since then, and now did little else than fill a mam- moth chair in the comfortable bar-room of the tavern, and smoke and test his own_ liquor. There were those who declared their willingness to swear that he had not left his chair for years, even to go to bed. It is barely possible that they were right, for Old Clem could sleep with wonderful ease and profundity in his chair, while his peesiliarly. sapere club feet, with huge flat heels and pointed toes that rose at an angle of forty-five degrees, threatening to cut the cords of the opposite ankle each time he attempt- ed to step, rendered it slow and ticklish work for him to play the pedestrian even before © grew so gross in body. _ Polly, his wife, was almost his exact opposite in physical qualities. Tall, thin to emaciation, angular in, figure and hatchet-faced, she was in constant motion thronghout the day and night. Like her body, her tongue hardly knew what it was to be at rest, but kept wagging away as 15 though run by machinery on the perpetual mo- tion principle. Their two sons, Marsh and Tip Stokeley, were almost as sharply contrasted, the former taking after his father, the other most resembling his mother; the first a burly, sluggish moving fel- low, but little less than a human avalanche when he once got fairly in motion; the lasta withered, impish-looking rascal, who seemed to be born old. There was a goodly gathering at Stokeley’s on the evening of the day whose various events we have been recording, in answer to a call issued by Colonel Victor Vanderlyn and Jehudi Fee. All that day, cowboy messengers had been in the saddle, going the rounds, leaving word at each ranch for the owners to attend the meet- ing, bringing with them such of their men as had financial interests in the Range. No ex- planation was given by the messengers, for they were unable to impart what they did not pos- sess, and perhaps it was as much curiosity as anything else that made every man summoned turn out and ride to Stokeley’s that summer night. olonel Victor Vanderlyn and the Fees, both father and son, were first at the rendezvous, and before the people began to flock in, they had Clem Stokeley and his huge chair rolled out of the bar-room by his dutiful sons, superin- tended by the skeleton-like virago. Demas Fee was a lamentable-looking specta- cle, his face being one mass of livid bruises and purple cuts, but he showed little the worse for his thorough thrashing in other respects. He had a ae, constitution, and great powers of recuperation. Colonel Vanderlyn had treated him skillfully, and Demas could see reasonabl well out of his eyes, was steady on his fee showing little stiffness or soreness, though i would be weeks before he lost all traces of that scientific flogging. Naturally enough, his highly ornamented frontispiece attracted the attention and aroused the curiosity of each new-comer, and Demas was kept pretty busy in explaining how he be- came such a spectacle. This he did frankly and without any attempt at disguising the truth. He seemed to feel a certain degree of admira- — tion for the man who had whipped him so thor- oughly, though he declared that the end was not yet; that he intended to pick his flint and try it again, as soon as he got into fit condition. ‘‘T don’t love him any more than I did this morning, you understand,” he earnestly added, as he stood in the center of a curious, laughing crowd. ‘‘Few men would have their hate turned to love by getting such an unmerciful thumping as this.” ‘‘ But he didn’t do it alone? Not the Parson?” interrupted one of the company, in an in- credulous tone that only voiced the sentiment of the entire assembly. ‘*T only wish he hadn't,” replied Demas, with a smile that could hardly be recognized as such, so battered was his face. ‘‘I could crowina good deal louder voice, then; but it’s the truth, gentlemen. He licked me, and licked me scien- tifically, too, with his fists. And I’m open to bet my last dollar at evens, that he can whip the best man on Rackabout Range, fair fist-fight.” “Oh, git out!” ‘* Listen to that, will ye?” ; ‘* Then he’s a bloody focl for sticking to cattle when he can rake in a range, ranch, stock an all every day in the week by the use of his fists! But you don’t mean it, Fee?” “Don't I? I tell you gents, we've been might- ily fooled in that fellow. If he’s a Anges) as we dubbed him, be sure he sy to the muscular christianity division. He licked me, and I reckon you'll hardly deny that I grew my spurs some little bit ago He said thatif I had any friends who felt like taking up my quarrel where I left off, he would be pleased to accommodate them at any time. That from now on he meant to cut a clean swath, let who would step in his way. And I am open to bet big money that he meant every word he uttered, too!” He pa abruptly, for just then Alva Bohee entered the room, politely but coldly saluting the company va Bohee, but not the person they had dubbed ‘‘the Parson” in ridicule, so far as his present appearance went. Instead of the broad- cloth clothes and the glossy silk hat, the morocco boots and kid gloves, Alva Bohee was clad in stout corduroy and woolen, with heavy riding- boots on his feet and a broad-brimmed, pearl- gray soft felt hat on hishead. Around his waist was buckled a leather belt, IL saa | a stout knife and a brace of six-shooters, of the navy size, such as a man wears who means plain busi- ness when he draws on an enemy. Demas laughed softly as he noted the sur- Oem. prise written on the faces of his friends at this wonderful transformation in the appearance of _ ‘‘the Parson,” and then nodded with more cor- diality than he bad ever shown Alva Bohee be- fore as the of the young ranchero rested upon his b face. As though he had only been waiting for this arrival, Colonel Vanderlyn rose from his chair and removing his hat, rapped sharply with his knuckles on the round table before him. ‘Gentlemen, if you will have the kindness to | "cOomicbdooks (C co . - . ” a wa 7 - a —_