Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 375 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

Tam interested in your Western jurispru- dence, and I'll risk a chance shot for the sake of seeing it through. Don’t be alarmed on my account, i'll keep a close eye on you, and when you dodge, I'll squat. I’ve an) idea the cross-eyed villain is not as big a | scoundrel as he looks, and I want to see jus» what sort of a share that gaunt, long-legged | scalawag has in the game. Altogether, it strikes me as a very pretty affair.” The major looked at his companion doubt- fully. He had no desire to pose as an exam- ple, where « mistake in following the copy might be attended with fatal results; and in Blazer's Bar he was scarcely considered an authority. The reference to Mordsunt Mortimer seemed to cause him furlber uneasiness, Two more dissimilar persons could not have existed; yet that was no reason why he and Trinnfador should not be partners. If they were, the obstinacy of the cross-eyed man in refusing to take safety wher he had it in his grasp might have an explanation more defi- nite than the one of ‘‘ pure cussedness,” Mortimer had shrunk back at the shoot- ing, but he was still there, and might come to the front again. From Cathcart, Wide- spin turned to him. Mortimer showed none of the nervousness that had possessed him at the time of the attack of Royal George, and was surveying the room with a grim smile on his hard-cut lips. ‘He is looking for somebody,” said Cath- cart, marking the direction the eyes of his companion were taking. The major nodded, and turned his face away, making a gesture toward Trinnfador. The fun there was about to begin again. No immediate rust had followed the sharp accusation flung at Hammers, because Mart himself was staggered, his friends were waiting cn him, some were carrying out Dave Dukely, and the balance that had an interest were planning a more certain way to get even with a man that shot without looking and put his bullets just where he wanted them. As Widespin turned away he did not see what Cathcart did, that Mordaunt gave a glance toward the cross-eyed man—and, at the same time, a shake of the head. Perhaps Trinnfador saw him, but it was just then that Mart Hammers took a few steps forward, utterly disregarding the ready pistols that now graced the hands of the obstinate stranger. “We can't blame yer fer ther shot ez it seemcd ter be yer life er his, an’ him a-ringin’ in f om ther outside, inter what wa'n’t his circus; but yer must see ye’r’ in a heap ov danger, an’ ef I stand aside ther boys'll jist riddle yer. I'm tryin’ ter do ther thing de- cent, but it’s the last askin’. Hands up!” “Allright,” sung out the cross-eyed man, and then he changed his base just in time. One minute he was crouching against the wall, his eyes rolling as restless and shifting as those cf a caged wild beast. The next he had hurled himself forward, knocking down Hammers in his rush, and picking up a chair as he went crashing through the throng and out of the window like a human cyclone, Not a soul anticipated the movement, and only one tried with any prospect of success to stop it. Ina masculine-like way Major Widespin, as Tammers went down, snatched his revol- ver from his belt, and raising his arm, fired. Even @ random shot at’ such close quar- ters might find the bull’s eye and Widespin would have bigeed big game and had some show to lay claim to the title of chief had he been ashade sooncr; but just a3 mechanically Mr. Catheart threw up his band, striking the major’s Wrist. The bullet bedded itself in the ceiling as Trinnfador went out of sight, and though half a dozen shots followed, they were wasted in the empty air or buried harmlessly in the | ain’t a-takin’ up fur him.” window-frame. Nobody shot very wild, but & miss was a3 00d as a mile. Following the shots came a rush, some ringing to the window, others bolting to the oor, the noise made deadening the sound of a brief conflict without, of which only Cathcart, the major, and one or two others, got a glimpse. As Widespin had suggested, two or three ! | Royal George, the Three in One. “Wait a moment. This gets interesting. | of potting their man from that vantage- ground, They lingered on the shot a little too long. Before they could get a fair chance through the throng that stood in their way, the hu- man thunderbolt was out and at work among them. In spite of the way he was being crowded, he did not strike to slay; but he made the | liveliest time for the party that they had ever had a hand in. As he burst through, he landed on the neck of an anxious marksman. He went down without knowing what had struck him. Then Trinnfador hit out left and right, and had the pleasure of feeling both blows connect. A fourth man came running up. He had his revolver in his hand, and would have had | time to shoot if he had been certain of his mark. While he peered around, a grip of steel closed on his neck, another on his leg, and he was tossed in through the window with the velocity of a stone flung from a catapult. The road was open, and all that Abednego had to do was to take it. He was in no hurry, however, but turned to the racket behind him. ‘*Ye'r’ givin’ me a hot recepshun, but yer can’t make me take water. I’ve come ter settle, an’ I’m hyar ter stay. When I call ‘round ag’in, Vll hev suthin’ furder ter say!’ fe might have spared the boast and util- ized his time to better advantage. A couple of shots came hurtling out in answer to his bold defiance, hissing unpleasantly near, and as he wheeled to go a single man came dashing up, evidently attracted by the hub- bub. “Hold on, hyar! What's ther racket? Don’t go no furder, stranger, till we see what we can do fur you!” Trinnfador’s answer was a right-hander that would have floored a mule. Perhaps his success had made him care- less—the mule wasn’t there. On the contrary, the blow was parried with a scientific ease that was wonderful, while the return came booming along with- out an instant’s delay. It was too late to guard, and Trinnfador ducked his head in a way that was almost successful. The stroke took him high up on the forehead, and straightened him out as though he had been hit with an ax. “That's right, leetle man, take yer gruel kindly. Yer hev ter git up very early in the mornin’ ter git by ther Baby with ther mauleys.” Baby Burt had got back to camp, and im- mediately began on business. old him tight! Sink a shaft! Blow a Rig a “Jump him! hole through him! rope!” There were a dozen voices yelling at once, as the crowd rushed up, Unmoved by the babel, Burt stood with folded arms, looking down at the form of the cross-eyed man, waiting for him to make a movement to get away, and wondering who he might be. His attitude, without meanin it, gave Trinnfador a show for his life. Ha it not been that a few of the foremost held of until the Baby decided what he would do : with his prisoner, he would have climbed the golden stairway before he had time to un- derstand that he was beaten at his own game, ‘“Wait a bit thar,” said the Baby, extend- ing his hands in a gesture that almost looked like ownership. ‘1 got him, an’ I'll keep him till yer lets | me inter ther racket. I ain't a-knockin’ down fur ell Blazer’s ter drag out ag’in,” “Don’t bea fool, Baby. It’s ther blasted | cut-throat ther boyees war goin’ ter string up | last night. Ef they’d ’a’ done it, they'd 'a’ | saved lots o’ trouble. He’s jest laid out Mart Iiammers an’ a couple more. I'll bet you ‘Yer’ right. I didn’t onderstand rightly who he “war—but do it decent. I aint allowin’ no outside heathen ter scalp my corpses.” “That’s so, Baby,” said Mart Hammers, stageer’ng forward. show, an’ ef he got a send-off it’d be squar’ an’ reg'lur. Ef he hedn’t took his own part, I'd ’a’ done it fur him; an’ I don’t count this men had coolly made their way to the win- , knock-down ag’in’ him. Turn him over ter dow from the outside, with the intention! me, Baby. ‘Ther town put this hyar thing ' to reason.” ‘*T said I'd gi’n him a | ae inter my hands, an’ I’m a-goin’ ter run it— not meanin’ arything ag’in’ youan’ yer pard, Baby. which ther same are good men.” ‘*‘ Have yer own way, an’ I'll back it.” The answer produced a grow] of discontent. that had the immediate effect of stiffening up, both Burt and Mart Hammers, The former bent over his prisoner, who had just given his first uneasy motion after the blow, and gathering both wrists in one of his huge paws, ' turned to Mart ‘* What is it, pard? are,” ‘*No more night work in mine; I’m goin’ ter see this thing out by daylight er bu'st a. wheel. Gentlemen, this court are adjourned till to-morrer mornin’ at nine o'clock. My friends ’Il back me that fur, an’ them ez don’t hez ther chance ter show the’r hands. Mine are full.” And what Honest Mart meant by that last, no one for a moment misunderstood. CHAPTER XXXIIT. WHERE THE BABY HAD BEEN. THe shot that dropped Jess Hurley had sent the Baby cowering back to cover, but it. was not from any want of courage. He was: as Willing as any one to face a loaded revol- ver, though its use did not come so nutural tohim. He had the nature of a bull-dog, and always preferred to fight with his owm teeth. He could use a revolver, though. when it. became necessary, and as he shrunk away he drew the one that for the most part reposed undisturbed at his hip. His idea was shrewd * enough, too. If Jess was dead all the help he could try to give him wasn’t worth the least risk, while it living he had to get rid of the assailants who had already wrought such harm before he could hope to be of any use, They would certainly not doanything for the wounded man, and would just as surely take ; him in if he gave them the chance. If Jess had been in his place he would have shot first and considered these points after- ward, but Burt was slow in thought and rather accustomed to seeing his way clear be- fore he acted. By the tine he saw his wa clear in this case, bis chance was ‘pali-italy gone. The man who had fired the shot drop- ped suddenly out of sight, just as the Baby's. eyes rested on him squarely and his hand was. rising, with his finger beginning to rest. heavily on the trigger. The other man had been in the background from the start, and Burt did not know where to look for him, so that when the shooter vanished it required careful work to keep from exposing himself to the fire of one or the other. That both of them were on the lookout there could be but little doubt. The body of Hurley lay there as a tempt- ing bait. When the Baby thought he de- tected a slight motion of the limbs, as he turned a glance in that direction, it was as much as he could do to refrain from rushing: forward in spite of everything. ‘It won't do, though,” he muttered. ‘They mean biz, en’ ef they took me in that. \ would be ther last sue ae gS fur pore Jess. I must go jest ez he would goef he war a- runnin’ ther concern. Hyar goes furit. Ti take acrawl, an’ see ef | can't unkiver ’em. Jest ez yer say, so she Ef I can’t I'll pear ter give ’em a show, an” ‘ap th scoop ’em in by strategy.” ky Acting on this principle, he edged carefully 4 forward, and began a circle of the moonlit little vista, es) His progress at the start was provokingly slow, but as minutes passed without hearing ‘Ti a sound, or meeting with the two skulkers he. knew to be near, he grew more reckless. Up he rose, right in the fullest glare of the moonlight, as though inviting a shot. Instead, a man stepped suddenly into the vista and toward him. The man rose behind him, and had all the chance in the world for as sure a shot as he had taken at Hurley, but something held his hand. He raised his revolver, it is true, and his finger was ready on the trigger; but in- stead of firing he made a Jow noise, as if he was involuntarily clearing his throat, At the sound the Baby wheeled. ‘*] wouldn't, Burt; I really wouldn’t,” said the man, a smile on his lips, ‘“You see I have you covered, and my pard behind you has it all set to rake you in if I miss. Throw up your hands and listem J Laser "OA dab ~" comircbooks