Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 380 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

-— | we ee The Golden Serpent. 11 For three days the outlaws threaded the mazy ‘windings.of monutain gorges, penetrating deeper and deever into the wild fastnesses where it seemed as if the foot of man had never before trodden. * Hugh Cole was the only one of the prisoners that tried to take account of the direction they followed. He alone meditated the possibility of escape counter to the will of their detain- ers. When they reached their final destination, a peak-circumvallated glade far from the habi- tations of men, he estimated that they had come a hundred.and fifty or two hundred miles. There the Golden Serpent left them under the guardianship of her men, while she went away ona mission of the nature of which she said nothing. Then the days succeeded one another in mo- | notonous suspense. At such a distance from the point of capture, ‘the chance of rescue was a slender one. To what end had their captors taken so extreme precaution? ‘It is a bold scheme, a little out of the com- mon,” said Uncle Billy Hodgson, when in com- pany with his fellow unfortunates he speculated as to the undivulged purpose of their abduction. ‘* That lovely little Greaser—God bless her!—has | imported a trick from her land of romance and song, and proposes to hold us for ransom, I wonder what Uncle Billy Hodgson is worth to his friends!" ‘‘ But if one’s friends should decline to impov- erish themselves for his benefit, that would be | deucedly awkward, ye know!” suggested Lis- pinard de Morgan, anxiously, as he reflected on the riotous living that had made ducks and drakes of the patrimon y which had thus far en- abled him to shine as King of the Dudes and the darling of the ladies. What now was the evanescent glory of the carpet knight? Even he felt that it would be embarrassing to owe his release to the generosity of the Hon. Benoni Spike before he had so much as proposed for the hand of his daughter. ‘¢ 'Y-y-e-e-s!—a leetle awkward for him,” ad- mitted Uncle Billy. bones gentry are not likely to trouble themselves about that.” And having offered this scant comfort, he went on: ‘Meanwhile, with an ache in every joint, and every muscle a painful protest against this in- human outrage—for a fat man, I want ye to un- derstand, can’t ride post-haste with impunity— every fiber of my being demands—something to eat! Suppose we have a bite.” And, having affected mock-eloquent declama- tion, as he reached his absurd climax he laughed jollily. The repast to which they addressed themselves was such as the appetite born of *‘ roughing it” makes an endurable alternative to starvation. But alas once more for the dude, the dainty dude! Sweet Lispinard de Morgan had been on the rack of infinitesimal tortures ever since his cap- ture. His delicate limbs were sadly chafed; he had soiled his gloves until he could but look up- on them with esthetic horror; his hat was prone, and he was in despair at the inevitable prospect of getting sun-burnt and ruining his complexicn. Add to this the necessity of kaving to swallow meat gritty with cinders from the coals on which it had been scorched, and wash it down with the muddy water they gave him in the name of coffee, and his disgust was perhaps nct wholly without excuse. ‘It's the horridest mess I ever tasted!” he oaned. ; ‘‘ What's that?” demanded a gruff voice, so close behind him that it made him jump. | And turning bis white face to the grim visage that scowled over his shoulder, he realized that, however justifiable his opinion, he had chosen an unfortunate time to express it. -————— CHAPTER XIV. A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION. ee !” stammered the unhappy dude. But the hour of repentance had passed. ‘‘ Ho, cook!” shouted the fellow, lustily. “‘Don’t—don’t trouble him, or yourself, I beg of you!” petitioned De Morgan, a cold perspira- tion starting from every pore. ‘‘ Bf the fare ain’t all right, we might as well make it so,” insisted the outlaw. ‘Ho! cook, I sa )?? , Why in Cain don’t you say it, then?” de- manded a revolver-and-bowie-knife-armed ruf- fian, with a voice like a robber chief’s in a melo- drama. : And the owner of the deep base voice, the mere sound of which made sweet Lispinard shiver, rose with a long-handled “spider” in one hand, and in the other a coffee-pot as black and battered as smoke and the rough-and-tum- ble of camp-life could make it—rose and rose, until he towered a veritable giant before his affrighted critic. ; He was only six feet tall, but to Lispinard he looked twelve! “This hyar gent’s a-growlin’ about the ra- a aim eo ** But the skull and cross- | | tions,” said he who had overheard the com- plaint. disgrace on this hyar crowd as has sot you up fur to do the handsome thing by its guests!” ‘What's the row with the grub?’ demanded the giant cook, scowling blackly. ‘* Nothing, nothing, I assure you!” saidsweet Lispinard, with a very decided quaver in his voice, *‘‘I have no doubt that everything is the _ best possible in the circumstances!” | “To blazes with yer sarcumstances!” bellowed the offended cook. ‘‘ What has sarcumstances | got to do with that thar meat, an’ this hyar | coffee, an’.—by thunder!—with this hyar short- | cake?” And advancing wrathfully upon his dissatis- fied guest, he shook the “ spider,” with its batch of “raisin’s,” rank with the pungent fumes of soda, fairly under his nose. “We this hyar provender hain’t to yer blasted dainty notions, whar in seventeen counties will ye find better—hey ?” _ It may be remarked in passing, that all of these men spoke ** French” with Cp aE ei a fluency, in the translation of which the spirit rather than the letter may with propriety be | rendered, | Without parallel in all her sheltered expe- perience, their s6norous oaths fell like blows upon Abigail's sensitive ear. It seemed to her that to men capable of so awful blasphemy, murder must be the veriest pastime ; and she looked to see her lardedah admirer riddled with bullets, or quartered with their huge bowie- knives, before her very eyes! ‘“Oh, Mr. Cole!” she cried, seizing Hugh’s arm, as the one man of her party able to cope with the outlaws, ‘‘they will murder Mr. De Morgan!” **Do not be alarmed,” was Hugh’s half-smil- ing reassurance. ‘‘ That cook is only a clever comedian. De Morgan has unwittingly broken ' one of the unwritten laws of camp life, and will have to pay the penalty.” ‘But will you stand and see our dear friend insulted by these wretches?—with a secret satis- faction, I believe, in his humiliation!” cried Mrs. Spike, who hailed the chance to convict Hugh of a meanness in her daughter’s eyes. ‘*Mrs. Spike,” he replied, with fe dignity, “there is a time for everything. This isnot the time for interference. When there is serious occasion, I do not think that I shall fail you; but it would he the bight of unwisdom to fritter away such influence as I may have, by giving pre men reason to look upon me as a med- er. Abigail, who stood at Hugh’s side, put her hand scene his arm with a touch as light as a snowflake. Meanwhile, the terrified dude was strivin plaintively to appease the monster he ha roused. “1 beg, my dear sir, that you will not con- sider my unguarded remark as at all in dispar- agement of your skill—” ‘* Skill, Tophet!” roared the implacable demon. **Do you take me for a professional cook? Tl have you to know—blast your eyes!—that I'm a gentleman, an’ don’t know any more about cookin’—by Judas!—than you do! An’ if you i don’t believe it, roast me if I don’t ram it down’ your infernal throat with the handle o’ this yar spider, an’ this hyar dinged coffee-pot on top of it!” ‘My dear sir!—my dear sir!” gasped poor Lispinard, ‘‘nothing in the world was further from my thoughts than to impugn your charac- | ter asa gentleman! Iam well aware that, with | such primitive appliances—” ‘Yes, by thunder! You know too blamed / much about it! Hang me if I don’t believe you are a waiter out o’ some New York restaurant, come out hyar to play ‘ me lawd juke,’ an’ ketch a gudgeon with a sweet million or two on the matrimonial hook! Why, burn your infested | hide! I’ve ordered onion hash from better men than you be, many’s the time!” Poor Lispinard! poor dudy-doo! this to one whose soul had ever revol from all labor— not to say menial service—as ‘‘ vulgah!” Overpowered by this most cruel indignity, he could find no words to reply. Meanwhile, the raised voice of the offended cook had rung throughout the camp, as he in- tended; and men came running from every di- rection, shouting: ‘A fight! a fight!” As they approached, they saw the cook follow- ing up his affrighted victim, gesticulating wildly with the frying-pan in one hand and the coffee- pot in the other, The latter, slopped about with the utmost recklessness, displayed a strange propensity for alighting on the once immaculate person of ‘‘ ye daintie dude,” who avoided its contamination in some degree by skipping about with great agil- ity, if not consummate grace; while every mo- ment threatened to see the soda-exhaling short- cake take flight from the frying-pan. ““ Hello, Hank! What’s the row?’ demande one of the in-coming spectators, . “This hyar spindle-shanks gags at his grub!” replied the cook, with a long string of profane epithets rained upon the ma content. ‘* Maybe he’s a pot-swab hisself, bein’ as he’s ‘* You're a blamed purty feller, to bring | to _ so beknownst what-fur grub a white man ought eat.” “'That’s my idee; an’—blast his liver!—he’ll have bis show fur puttin’ up the proper ar- ticle!” , ‘“That’s the ticket! An’ bein’ as how he’s an outsider, an’ hain’t no call to wag his jaw no- how, but ought to down his gruel with a thank- ye-ma’am, he stands double duty, ye onder- stand!” You bet!” ‘‘ Let up, then, Hank,” interposed another. ‘‘ Bf he stands his racket hke a man, you hain’t no call to chaw him up.” ‘*‘ He'll stand his racket—don’t you sweat!” And Hank marched over to the fire, and set down the frying-pan and coffee-pot in a very decided manner. He then proceeded to roll up his sleeves with great nicety and deliberation. Poor Lispinard shook in his shoes, wonderin what penalty was to be inflicted requiring suc preparation. Was he expected to * hold up his, flippers” before this burly ruffian, to be ** knock- ed out” in four three-minute rounds? CHAPTER XV. ABIGAIL TO THE RESCUE, Mrs. Sprke, convinced that her pet scheme for social] advancement would be ‘t knocked in the head” when her dear Lispinard ‘‘ went to grass,” appealed to all of the men of ber party in turn to interfere—all but Benoni. She would as soon have thought of enlisting the aid of Abi- gail, as that of the non-combatant who “ cast her vote and held the office which of right be- longed to her.” Judge Littlejohn only growled out an un- intelligible refusal, and ungallantly turned his back upon her; Hugh calmly assured her that nothing serious was to be apprehended; while | Uncle Billy Hodgson was everything that could be desired—except efficient. ‘*My dear madam!” he cried, as he pressed her hand in both his own, with all the effusive- ness of a Frenchman, ‘‘ I do most heartily sym- pathize with your distress on this most painful occasion! But, ma’am, boys will be boys—es- pecially this kind o’ boys! Everythin’ depends on how ye take ’em, They’ll stand at yer back an’ knock out anythin’ you set before ’em, if you tickle ’em jest whar they like to be tickled; an’ the way ye kin vote’em is amazin’! But of ye sour ’em, they bolt the ticket every time !” ; ‘* But do somethin’!—do somethin’!” cried the ady. Phe question is, jest what to do,” said Uncle Billy, scratching his head reflectively. ‘As I sai before, everythin’ depends on how ye take ‘*But while Pa are debatin’ that question, they will murder dear Mr. De Morgan!’ “Suppose,” cried Uncle Billy, looking u quickly, as if he had just conceived a very bril- liant idea—‘‘ suppose you tell ’em that you’re his mother-in-law, an’ you won't have it!” But the Hon. Mrs. Spike had had a sufficient taste of the metal of these rough fellows in the unceremonious celerity with which she had been put into the saddle. She who was ready enough to bully men who were handicapped by defer- ence to her sex, felt her powerlessness with men who were not restrained from physical violence by that sentiment. La, Meanwhile the stalwart cook was spitting on his hands and then rubbing them together, as he advanced once more toward the shivering offender. . - thas: feller!” he said, affecting the stern gravity of a judge about to ea sentence, ‘thar ain’t much law in this hyar section o country; but what thar is of itis to the p’int! Do ye know what we do with a galoot what blanks the cook?” . ‘‘T beg your pahdon, sir! Indeed I did not swear at you!” protested sweet Lispinard, ‘*Shut up!” was the implacable command, ** Blast ye! don’t ye tell me lie! When Handy Hank slings the pow, you go fur es rations with both feet in the trough, or you hyear from him! When you blanks the slumgudgeon, ae blanks the cook what sets it up. Then what — does the cook he do?” **T don’t know!” ‘‘The deuce ye don’t! Waal, it’s time you found out. He walks you Spanish three times round the camp, he does! Savvy?’ \ ‘1 beg your pahdon!” ‘ Eh yd But Lispinard, afraid to press for an expla- nation, said nothing. “vt ** An’ what do you do?” asked his inquisitor, ‘*T am at a loss to imagine.” ‘‘To Guinea with your imagination! You'll find that it’s the red-hottest fact you ever struck, to cook fur forty thieves that eat like these hyar do! You wrastles that thar coffee- pot, an’ that thar spider, an’ them thar kittles, you do !—fur four days, ye onderstand !” ‘*Cook?’ cried sweet Lispinard, aghast, “ DY, I never cooked anything in my life!” ** Ye hain’t, hey?” ? “ Never!” (el - (Eoypayiicelevoxe) (G “SS