Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 383 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

—S - = om, Fee ani omy a ant . o-a ~ . — See —— we >” —— S — =e ~ * peeled till the flag riz. \ a - come a long ways. Se ee ee eg 26 ‘‘'That’s business,” she muttered. ‘‘ That is bound to settle it one way or another, If he don’t see that I’ve got to the end of my tether and can’t go a step further, he’s got less sense than I give him credit for.” She went back into the cabin, and shuffled about there a little, but with a discontented and almost disgusted air. ‘‘T wish Beauty was here,” she said. ‘‘ It’s amazin’ how much I miss him. I don’t seem to have the energy to clean up a bit.” A sudden thought struck her, and she snatched up a red shawl, ran out doors, tied the shawl to the end of a pole, and stood the pole up against the cabin. That was her signal for ‘‘ Beauty,” and she sat down and waited for him, She did not have long to wait. As soon as she had gone back into the cabin Muggs crawled out of his hiding-place, glad to get a chance to stretch his limbs again, skirted the base of the hill for a little distance up the canyon and then returned to the cabin. There was still a chance that Andrew Bir- kett might discover the loss of his document and return to look for it; but that was a chance that must be taken like the other chances, and there was no danger that sus- picion could rest upon ‘‘ Beauty.” So the late spy boldly opened the door and walked in. He was joyfully greeted by Bet Rawson, who at once noticed his worn and haggard appearance. “Why, you poor fellow!” she exclaimed. ‘“‘T am afraid you have hada tough time. I didn’t think it would goso hard with you.” ‘*Sleepin’ out in the woods with nothin’ to eat ain’t apt to make a feller git fat,” re- marked Muggs. ‘I’m as hungry as a wolf.” He never spoke a truer word. ‘““You do looked starved, Beauty, for a fact, and ’m awful sorry for you. I will get you somethin’ to eat right away. Hurry and wash up, and you may help me.” The joint efforts of the two produced in a brief time a good and substantial breakfast, and Muggs devoured it voraciously, having no difficulty this time in allowing his appe- tite to testify to his starvation. He was so busy stufting himself that he had no time to talk, and Bet Rawson waited for him patiently, but in a sort of moody fit, until he was through. Then she filled his pipe, gave him a light, and opened her batteries. ‘‘It was real good of you, Beauty, to come back as quiet as you did. I suppose you saw my signal.” “Course I did. I was watchin’ fur it, half crazy to come in. I saw them two fel- lers ride away, and then I jest kep’ my eyes Any danger that they mought come back?” p ‘*T should say not, and I’m glad they’re gone. I’m kinder worryin’ about them, Beau- ty, and I wish you could help me,”’ **Wish I knowed how. I'd go my length to help you.” **One of them is queer, Beauty—a mixture of snake and wolf. I don’t know whether to believe him or not. Yes, Ido know that he ain’t to be believed; but the question is, whether he may think it safe to go against me. I wish I could go; but I can’t.” peectehin’ I go, miss? Would it do any ood?’ ‘It might; but there’s no getting awa from here, and Butte’s a long way off. ou had a hoss—” ‘Why, bless yer heart! I’ve got a hoss,” cheerfully answered Muggs. Her glance of sudden surprise might have wilted him; but it did not, ‘“Got a hoss? What does that mean? You told me that you were set afoot.” ‘So I was, miss. You don’t ketch Simon Peter in no lie. But I’ve got a hoss, all the same, Come up on him yest’day. Was goin’ to tell you about it; but you started in on suthin’ else.”’ ‘*How did you get a hoss, Beauty?” “Found him up thecanyon. Sorter Injun pony, I reckon. Saddle an’ bridle on, too, only the bridle’s broke.” ‘‘ Who on earth can have been about here to lose a hoss?” “‘Durned if I know, miss. Seems like he’d Reckon he’d got loose an’ run off, an’ the owner couldn't find him, Anyway, I’ve got a hoss.” >» ee i ee ele -=— = Silver Sam, Detective ‘‘That’s queer. But it’s lucky, too. You may go to Butte, then, and I will give you all the money you need. The man I spoke of is named Andrew Birkett, and everybody there knows him. You will find it easy enough to get onto him. If he don’t come out here after, say ten or twelve days, or if he goes anywhere else about that time, come back here and let me know. Watch him close, and got onto all his ways and doin’s right sharp. Can you do that?” *“You may jest bet yer last dollar that I kin, miss.” **'Where’s your hoss?” ‘“'T’other side o’ the valley, miss.” ‘“Very well. We will get up some grub for you, and you can go over there and start. But you must ride out, so’s to let me see you when you go off. I shall miss you lots; but I think you can do me a good turn in Butte.” There was a shade of suspicion in her last injunction; but Muggs did not mind that, he was so glad to get such a good excuse for go- ing away and seeking the very point which he then wanted to reach. He took the money that was given him and the provisions that were prepared for his. journey, and crossed the valley to his corral, where he picked up his horse and weapons and ammunition. As he rode down the trail he waved an adieu to Bet Rawson, who was watching him from the cabin door. CHAPTER XXXYVI. TROUBLE IN THE BIRKETT CAMP. ANDREW Brrxerr and Alf Sanders had quite a pleasant trip back to Butte. The former was highly satisfied with what he had secured by the visit, and the latter was more than pleased with the pay for his service that he had received and was yet to receive. *Tt’s all right now, Alf,” said Birkett, ‘‘and I won't forget you.” *“There’s one queer thing about it, though,” replied the Butte official, ‘‘ You know that I kyvew that woman. She is Dick Herries’s wife; but she signed her name Margaret Tellson.” “That's correct, Alf. Tellson is her maiden name, and the name by which she inherits the property. Those folks at the East needn’t know anything about her marriage, which might make more bother. You will certify that she is Margaret Tellson, and I and Josh Cattermole will swear to it, and the authori- ties at Helena will certify to your signature and position, and all will be legal and as straight as a shingle.” When he reached Butte Andrew Birkett was met by Josh Cattermole, who accom- panied him to his lodgings, anxious to learn the result of the journey. He received the assurance that everything had been satisfactorily arranged so far, and that there was no likelihood of trouble ahead. ‘How about Bet Rawson, gov’nor?” in- quired Cattermole. ‘‘ Was she peaceable, or was she inclined to be ugly?” ‘‘She was a bit cranky, Josh, and was crosser than I cared to see her; but I smooth- ed her down. I’ve got to go out there, though, in ten days or so, to fetch her away.” ‘“‘Reckon you'd better make a sure thing o’ that, gov’nor. When I saw her last I got the notion that she was powerful skittish and wouldn’t stand a durned bit of nonsense.” ‘‘T’m not afraid of her, Josh, and _ it’s more than likely that I will give her the fling yet.” ‘‘ When the other woman's business is set- tled, mebbe you may, .and I reckon you can work that scheme after a bit, if you’ve got the paper all right.” ‘You may bet your immortal soul that the paper’s all right,” triumphantly replied Andrew Birkett. ‘‘Here, you can take a look at it.” ° He thrust his hand into the inside breast- pocket of his coat, ; A puzzled look crept into his face as he found nothing there. Again he felt, but found nothing. ae felt in all his pockets with a similar re- ult, He empitied them, and turned them inside out; but the important document was not visible. His countenance disclosed the utmost an- ¥ J om «9 ' peti, wt % ee Ss “se — et aie LS nn nn Eee eee fe) = ger and consternation as he shot out volley after volley of fierce oaths.”’ ‘What is the matter?” asked Cattermole. ** Have you lost it?” ‘*] don’t know what has become of it. I am sure that [ put it in this pocket, and that I haven't touched it since; but it is: gone.”’ ‘*That’s queer.” ‘Worse than queer. Josh, you must run: and find Alf Sanders, and bring him here as quick as you can.” Andrew Birkett paced the room like a tiger in its cage until Josh Cattermole returned. with the Butte official. ‘You put it in the inside pocket of your’ iY said Sanders. ‘‘ Not a bit of doubt of that.’ ‘*] was sure of it,” added Birkett. ‘‘ And I am sure that I haven't touched it since: then. Can I have dropped it at the cabin, or left it there? Or did Bet Rawson steal it, ffom me? No; it is not possible that she would have played sucha game, But she must have found it, Josh, you will have to ride out there as fast as you can go, and get that paper.”’ In as brief a time as possible after this in- terview, Josh Cattermole put in an appear- ance at Bet Rawson’s cabin. He and his horse bore the marks of hard travel, and both of them were, in fact, pretty well used up. Bet Rawson, who stepped out of the cabin with her rifle in her hand as she heard the tread of a korse, was more than surprised to see Josh Cattermole there. ‘They'll make the trail pretty hot among ‘em,’ she muttered. ‘‘ Wonder what’s up now? Some swindle, I’m keen to bet.” When Cattermole alighted and greeted her she blurted out her surprise. ‘‘Glad to see you, old man, though I wasn’t expectin’ you. You look asif you'd had a hard pull of it. What in thunder brought you out here?” ‘*Don’t you know?” answered Josh, with a searching glance. ‘‘ Would | be askin’ you if I did?” ‘‘Haven’t you found anythin’, Miss Bet?” “Found anythin’? Somethin’ in the way of di’munds? Or silk dresses? Or sealskin sacques? Mighty likely I’d be to find any- thin’ out here.” ‘‘Honest, now, Miss Bet, haven’t you found anythin’ about the cabin here since the gov’ nor went away?” ‘*No, I hain’t found anythin’, and I want. to know what this stuff means,” ** Nothin’ in the way of a paper?” ‘“No sort o’ paper. Oh, saered snakes! what are you gittin’ at?” “Then the devil’s to pay, for sure.” ‘“Come inside, Josh Cattermole, and I will make youa dram. You look used up. Soon as you feel right you've got to tell me what's Cattermole expressed his willingness to do so, averring that he had come for that purpose. hen he had received his dram and some- thing to eat, he lighted his pipe and began his explanation. “You know, Miss Bet, that when the gov’nor was out here last he got a paper signed.” a Yes. 3 . . . . ‘‘He put it in an inside pocket of his coat, and hung his coat up on a peg, and went to sleep. in the mornin’ he got up, put on his coat, and went away.” ‘* You've got it straight, Josh, so far.” ‘He didn’t touch that paper, Miss Bet, from the time he put it in his pocket until he got back to Butte. Then he went to take it. out to show it tome, and it was gone, He hunted through all his clothes, but couldn’t find a trace of it.” Bet Rawson made no answer, but an ex- pression of utter incredulity pervaded her features, ‘‘ He sent me out here to look for it,” con- tinued Josh, ‘‘thinkin’ it might have been dropped here, and that you had found it.” ‘‘Nary found,” she sententiously respond- d. ‘¢ What could have become of it, then? [I don't see how it could have been stolen— unless—” He pointed significantly at the partition. ‘‘That door was locked,” observed Bet,, ‘*and the key was on this side,” #. Gomichoo