Beadle's Dime Library No. 362 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

ae. oie “ ae Y 12 The outlaw was astounded at the cool | Buffalo Bill’s Grip. The man uttered an oath, but obeyed, and nerve displayed by Bill in his danger, and | the belt of arms fell to the ground. could not understand his light, bantering tone. He meant to hill him, there was no doubt; but as a cat will play with a mouse to torture it, he wished to make Buffalo Bill suffer terror and despair, so delayed firing the fatal shot, feeling that he had him at his mercy wholly. ‘1 kilt thet Injun, an’ what you fotched him heur fer I does not know; but I claims his scalp,” and the Boss of the Big Horn pointed to the dead body of Ne-ta-ka. ‘* You killed that Indian?” asked Bill. ‘‘T said so,” responded the Boss of the Big Horn. Why, I shot him myself,” said Bill. ‘¢ You went out on the perarer an’ fotched him in arter I kilt him.” ‘‘Oh, Lord! but what a holy liar you are, Ginger Sam!” “Does yer say you kilt thet Injun, Bill Cody?” se do.”’ “‘T tell yer I left my cabin ’arly ter git game, an’ were jist leavin’ ther timber when I seen thet Injun drop down on ther pararer, hevin’ got sight o’ me, I s’pose, ‘‘So I cracks away, an’ 1 seen him flop over an’ then lie still; but I lays close, fer | thought t’others mou't be near, an’ then [ seen you come out o’ ther timber from this p’int an’ pick him up an’ fetch him heur. ‘‘T flanked yer posish, and I hes been lookin’ at yer fer a long time, an’ now yer says you kilt ther red.” ‘¢ And I tell you the truth, and I can prove it,” ‘* How kin yer?” ‘‘ Where did you aim to hit him?” «In the heart.” ‘Well, look and see if there are two bul- let-wounds in his body, for I heard your shot, I remember now, and have no doubt but that you fired at him; but he was dying when you did so. “QLook for the two wounds, Big Horn Boss.”’ The man stooped to do so, anu with the bound of a panther Buffalo Bill was upon him. -_—_—__—_ -— CHAPTER XXII. THE GRAVE-DIGGER. Tirown off his guard by the manner of the scout, and his interest in searching for a second wound in the body of the Indian, Ginger Sam went right into the trap which was set for him, and did just what Buffalo Bill had been endeavoring he should do, Quick as lightning in his movements, Buf- falo Bill had sprung forward and seized the hand that held the revolver, before the out- law could come to an upright position, and at the same time he presented one of his own weapons full in the face of his foe, while he said, in the coolest manner possible: ‘Tf you wish to keep in good health, Gin- ger Sam, you'll do as I tell you!” The outlaw was livid with rage, and seem- ed to feel that his last day on earth had ome. He loved life, even alone in those wilds, and asked, hoarsely: ‘* Does yer intend ter kill me?” ‘*1 do not know what I shall do with you in the end, but at present I intend to disarm ou. % ‘Drop old Daniel Boone's rifle you hold in your hand there.” “It mou't break it.” _ “T guess not, for it’s too old a settler to be hurt by a little tumble, ‘Drop it, I say.” - “Tt mou’t go off an’ shoot yer from ther concussion.” ‘«*My revolver will go off and shoot you from the muzzle, if you don’t obey!” ‘*Down she goes.” The outlaw dropped it in such a way, at the same time giving it a kick, that showed he would like to have it explode in the fall and kill his captor. But it did not, and kicking it one side, _ Bill commanded: ‘«Now unbuckle your belt and let it fall!” “‘Now thet would be dangerous,”’ ‘‘Do as I tell you, and be careful not to let your hand touch those blunderbusses you carry, or you won't know what killed you,”’ “‘ Now step this way.” Bill drew him a few steps away from his rifle and belt, and then, with a sudden, vio- lent wrench of the wrist, tore the revolver from the outlaw’s hand and pitched it over with the other weapons. ‘‘Now, Boss of the Big Horn, I was born tired, and don’t like work, so take your knife and set to work to build a house under this tree,” said Bill. ‘‘A house?” asked the surprised man, ‘“* Yes.” ‘*What kind of a house?” ‘One that will fit a dead man.” ‘‘-Yer mean a grave?” asked the outlaw, in a tone of horror. “Fi G0. + ‘‘Yer don’t mean ter kill me, and fust make me dig my own grave?” and the voice of the speaker was low and tremulous. “No, you are not worth burying; but I wish to bury that Injun there, because | promised him I would, and being lazy, as I told you, I want you to dig his grave.” The outlaw seemed to feel relieved in knowing that he was not the one to occupy the grave, and he at once set to work, and with his knife began to throw out the earth quite rapidly. Buffalo Bill coolly sat near watching him, and keeping him covered with his revolver, and noticing the rapid work of the outlaw, he said: ‘‘T guess you were sexton for some grave- yare, Ginger Sam, before you took to thiev- in ” ‘‘Thet are jist what I were, Bill Cody,” and the man stopped in his work. ‘And you took to robbing by night the penne you buried by day, and got caught at it, I guess, so had to follow the lamented Horace Greeley’s advice and dig for the West?” ‘*Waal, you hits things pretty squar’, Bill Cody, fer they did plant a leddy in my yard one day, thet were durned fool enough ter leave it in her will thet she were ter be buried in her di’mints an’ t’other jew'l'ry. ‘*T know’d ther kin-folks w’u’d dig her up some night, ef I didn’t, so I did, an’ them as was comin’ ter doit seen me, an’ | jist hed ter light out from them parts,” ‘* Well, you look the ghoul youare; but go on with your work. for life’s too short to listen to your sins, old man!” The ex-sexton resumed his work with a sigh, and soon had an opening which brought from the scout the remark: ‘*No Injun could wish for more than that, Ginger Sam, and you are the Boss Grave- Digger of the Big Horn, whatever your other sins may be. * Now wrap that Injun in his blanket and lay him in it; but leave out his traps and weapons!” ‘*Won’t yer scalp him?” “te No. ” ‘What about t’others?” ‘‘Tet them remain where they are,” ‘‘Three of ’em is scalped.” ‘«Those I killed.” ** And t’others?” ‘* Have you ever heard of Mad Hercules of the Yellowstone?”’ ‘‘T has, an’ I never wants ter see him ag’in,”’ «You hev seen him then?” ‘* Hev 1? *« Waal now he nearly skeert me ter death one night; but he didn’t see me, altho’ he comed almost up to my cabin door. ‘*He are a hairy terror.” ‘* Well, he killed those other Indians.” ‘* Are he near heur?” ‘‘ He went down the river awhile since.” ** Are he a-comin’ back?” and the outlaw showed real terror. ‘*No, but I shall go after him, and if I don’t have to kill you before I start, I shall take you along.” ‘‘ Lord hev marcy!” **Come, bury that Injun,” = Yer seems ter feel tender fer this heur red,” ‘‘T promised him that I would not scalp him, and that I would bury him.”’ ‘I guesses yer’ll be ‘rectin a moniment over him afore long,” sneered the outlaw. ‘‘T may leave you dead across his grave as a monument,” was the cool reply. ‘what you are, and i The outlaw did not relish this remark, and at once wrapped the blanket of Ne-ta-ka around him, and placing him in the grave asked him in a tone of sarcasm: ‘‘Does yer intend ter shriek pra’er over him?” ‘fNofr “Does yer know any?” “Tf I did, it would be desecration to utter them, even over a dead Indian, in your vile presence,” was the stern retort. ‘* Ef yer don’t, I does, fer I Varnt all kinds when I were grave-digger. ‘“Now, I doesn’t know ther creed o° this red-skin; but ef yer kin guess at it, I kin fit him with a sarvice ter suit Presberte’ran, ’Piscopal, Meth’dist, Hard-shell or Soft- shell Baptist or Cath’lics, fer ef thar is any- thing I does know, it are how ter pray an’ ter shoot.” ‘‘Well, you better indulge in praying for yourself, for you'll never Go any more shoot- ing, Ginger Sam. ‘‘There, that is a first-class grave, and now we will put a few heavy logs over it, to prenne: the wolves from tearing up the ody. ‘And then, pard?” ‘Then 1 shall decide what [ shall do with you.” ‘‘ Are I ter be axed?” ‘‘No; for I know half-a-dozen murders you committed that would hang you— Ta!” The scout’s words were suddenly checked, for distinctly, though distant, there came to his ears the sound of a bugle. ‘*Grave-digger’s Carnival! but what are thet?” cried the outlaw. ‘‘ A cavalry bugle.” ‘Ts thar cavalry in these heur moun- tains?” ‘‘Yes; and their trail will come right through here.” ‘‘Whar’ll we be?” asked the outlaw, most anxiously. ‘*T’]l be riding down the river.” ‘* An’ me?” ‘‘T’ll leave you as a present for the general, who I know would be glad to get you,” was the cool reply. ‘‘Don’t do it, Bill, and I'll do ther squar’ thing by you.” ‘Look here, Ginger Sam, I know just I let you go, I know many an innocent man would be the sufferer by it, for you hide in these mountains and shoot down every one of your own race who comes here, for fear you may be seen and re- cognized. ‘* You thought you had the dead drop on me, and I saw it in your eyes that you in- tended to kill me—’ ‘‘No, Bill, I sw’ar I didn’t.” ‘‘T would not believe you on oath, Ginger Sam, and it is my duty to give you up to General Carr, who is coming this way with his command.” Quick as a flash Buffalo Bill, who held in one hand a lariat he had taken from one of the dead Indians, threw the coil over the head of the outlaw, and the arms were pinioned down to his side. Taking a turn around the tree by which they stood, Buffalo Bill quickly and_skill- fully bound the struggling wretch to it, and in such a way that escape was impossible, Then he took from his pocket a note-book and pencil, and tearing,out a leaf, wrote thereon: ‘* GENERAL :— ‘*T leave this man for you to decide his fate. ‘‘He was known years ago as Ginger Sam, and Lee to rob a train I was guide of, and to kill the eo . a e has committed many murders on the border, as any old borderman ean tell you, upon hearing his name, Copy.” This Buffalo Bill tacked upon the tree te which the villain was bound, and unheeding the begging of the prisoner to let him go, in- termingled with curses at his not doing so, he mounted his horse and rode toward the timber fronting on the little prairie. | Quickly he drew his horse back in the shadow, for he saw Frank Gourard, the ar there, bending over the spot where e-ta-ka had fallen, while just coming around a spur of the mountain was the head of the command. Wheeling his horse about, the scout gal- loped back to the river, and plunging bold] in, made for the other shore, carrying wi an m Gomicboo CSEO : + boas pid 4 art b