Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 383 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

OSS Saas =o = = 7 wa. a a ae —— =F ees ye Pa oS } _ wees =, —— = — 4 er ee ee —— = ~ 7 - - about this, and a much less alert man than Sam “was so accustomed to expecting and encounter- _ The hour was after midnight, and the place coat pocket—a clear indication of contemplated __ pistol practice. against Birkett, as against whoever might be _ behind him. — a ee —- —_ meaning more CERN, and it appeared that Dick Herries had told him the same story that he had told his daughter. Sam Slevin simply produced a letter, and asked Stephen Boreman to read it. It was di- rected to Dick Herries, and was signed by his daughter. Among other matters it contained this para- graph: “Mr. Slevin has been very kind to me, while An- drew Birkett |} as proved to be an enemy, and I am | sure. dear fa‘her, that you were greatly mistaken when you said that Mr. Slevin bad anything to do | with your being sent away from bere. He is going | to look for you, and if he finds you I trust you will | accept him as a true friend, just as I have done.” That looks all straight and square, Mr. Sic- | vin,” observed the ranchman when he had spell- ; ed out the writing. ‘‘ Seem: like there must ha’ Leen a big he out somewhere.” ** A/big and mean lie,” responded Sam. ** And so, as this letter seems to be from Dick Herries’s daughter, and as she certifies you as bein’ all right, I will tell you what I know about him, tk ough it ain’t much.” Stephen Boreman related the particulars of | Dick Herries’s arrival and stay at his ranch, | and gave full details of everything that occurred up to the departure of the exile. ‘* That's all there is to tell,” he said in conclu- | sion, ‘‘ except that he was alive and safe when he left here, and be is likely to be alive and safe now, wherever he is.” Sam was of the same opinion, and judged that it would not be worth while for him to pur- | sue his investigation any further, He returned to Butte, and carried this cheer- ing information to Kate Herries, who was deep- ly grateful to him for his kindness, and the trouble he had taken. She believed with Slevin that her father was then alive and safe, and her knowledge of what he had said and done at Boreman’s ranch, es- pecially with regard to his whisky-flask, was a | great consolation to her. | “That shows that his head is right, now,” said she, ‘‘and I have no longer any fear for | him. He never let liquor get the better of him until lately, but he has not seemed to be in his | right mind since—since mother went away. | But, I do believe that he will go straight now, and he told me when we parted that perhaps his leaving Butte would be the best thing that could | happen to him.” ‘ff he is as solid as Stephen Boreman sup- posed him to be,” answered Slevin, ‘‘ there is no | need to worry about him any more, and your | safety is the only thing to look after.” “There is nothing to fear about me, Mr. Slevin. Iam safeand quite comfortable, thanks , to your great kindness,’ | t was his own safety that Sam Slevin needed | to look after; but he did not know that, and had | no reason to suspect any special danger. He ing danger, that he took little thought of any- thing of that kind. It was one of his favorite sayings that it is not worth while to jump over a fence before you get to it; but it would have been well for him if he could have measured the extent of Andrew Birkett’s animosity, and could have ot an inkling of the intentions of that prom- inent citizen toward him. Outside of the affair of Kate Herries, it was not to be supposed that Birkett would have set her father against him unless there had been some special cause of enmity. - An outside observer would have been apt to | ee ine that the enmity must be in some way connected with those two, ”S But Sam harbored none of those suppositions, and thought of Andrew Birkett only with the view of shielding Kate Herries from his possible | schemes. One night he met that prominent citizen, or was met by him, as it was evident that the time place of the meeting were chosen by Bir- tt. was a lonely spot away from the glare of the still lighted saloons. ‘‘T have been looking for you, Mr. Meddle- some,” said Birkett, as he suddenly confronted the man from Central City. “Tt is always easy to find me,” responded Slevin, provokingly cool. “T pick my chances, though. I mean to set- tle with you now, and to settle with you for ‘There was something strikingly suspicious Slevin could not have failed to notice the con- fi lent tone and the general style of the perform- ance. Sam also could not help percatving that the hand of the man who met him was in his over- Therefore he stood on his guard—not so much paew many of you are there?” he quietly in- EE OO Phe answer was doubtless intended to be a Silver Sam, Detective. But it did not come quick enough. the revolver out of his hand as soon asit was } -_-— | otherwise, so as to slide over the snow without A judicious kick of Sam’s left foot knocked | breaking through. On this were securely strapped sacks of flour drawn from the overcoat eet and at the ' and meat and other provisions and miscellanies, {the whole closely covered with a waterproof same time temporarily disabled the hand. The pistol tle dropped harmlessly, while Birkett shook his hand as if it hurt him, and no doubt it did. Then came the real attack. Sudden it was, but not unexpected by Slevin. Backing against the wall of a house, he dis- charged his revolver rapidly at the foes who rushed at him from all quarters. His aim was as true as it was quick; but they were too many for him. | They fired as they advanced upon him, and pistol-shots made the night lively for a few min- utes, ‘* Pour it into him, boys!” shouted Birkett. ** Kill him while you’ve got him!” If his gang of assassins failed to obey this or- der, it was not for lack of effort. Though Slevin’s bullets counted among them, theirs told upon him as well. Struck in the right arm, and then in the side, he first dropped his pistol, and then his body dropped on the wooden sidewalk. ‘* Finish him, boys!” cried Birkett, and the gang closed in upon their helpless victim; but, into the midst of them, as if propelled bya catapult, shot the burly form of Muggs, of Muggsville. He was armed with a club, andlaid about him so vigorously that he demoralized Silver Sam's assailants, and before they could rally to meet this attack, another aggressive element sailed into the scene. It was Kate Herries, who had perceived the rush of Muggs of Muggsville, and had hastened to the assistance of her body-guard. She carried a revolver. with which she at least made a great noise, at the same time call- ing loudly for help. But the shots and shouts had already attract- ed a number of men who came running forward, and Birkett and his gang hastened to make themselves scarce. ; Sam Slevin, badly wounded, was taken to his room and tenderly cared for. CHAPTER XI. A PERILOUS JOURNEY, Wut Ler Sam Slevin was confined to his bed by his wounds, but comfortably situated and well cared for, events were transpiring in Butte and elsewhere, which might, if he had been informed of them, have given him an inkling of the cause of Birkett’s hostility to him. That prominent citizen, in the mean time, was flourishing like a green bay tree, and had been in no wise called to an account for his lawless aoe dastardly attack upon the man from Central ity. No person seemed to be disposed to take the matter up, and justice then and there was not vigilant pistes to investigate a street fight of its own accord, The dead were quietly buried, and the wound- ed were cared for by their friends, and that en- ded the affair as far as the public were con- cerned. At an early hour in the morning, before any- body was astir to notice his departure or make inquiries concerning it, a man left Butte in a somewhat singular manner. This man was Joshua Cattermole, a particular friend of Andrew Birkett’s who was on hand to wish him good luck as he started, and to give him a word of instruction. ‘Tell Bet that all she’s got to do is to keep things safe and straight,” said Birkett ‘‘and that I will come out there as soon as the spring opens.” * All right, gov’nor,” growled Cattermole; ‘* T don’t Jike the job a bit, but the pay is good, an‘ I will do the best I can with it.” He might well grumble and grow], as the task before him was both difficult and dangercus. The winter had not begun to break, and he must traverse many miles of mountain range and valley and canyon, where the snow lay heavily everywhere and in some places the drifts were tremendous, Besides the dangers of the snow in position, he must encounter the perils of avalanches, which any warm and sunny day might bring down upon him, one of which might sweep him and his belongings into eternity as easily as a leaf is carried away by a torrent. He was well prepared and fitted, as far as hu- man forethought could go, for such a journey. His clothing was heavy and warm, and his legs were well wrapped, and his bocts and mit- tens and fur cap were almost sufficient for the rigors of an Arctic winter. $ Besides his rifle and revolver and knife, ho earried a pair of snow-shoes for use on the sur- face of the crusted snow. The troublesome part of his outfit was a sled which he was to drag. ‘ It was not a sled as that article is usually un- derstood, being more like an exaggerated tobog- gan. It was, in fact, a frame of thin boards, curved upward at the forward end, broad and flat ‘ / 4 w away a little distance, and | cloth. The load would have been much too heavy for aman to carry on his back; but the sledding, under ordinary circumstances, was not a formi- dable undertaking. Thus equipped, and thus Icaded and hamper- ed, Josh Cattermole set cut from Putte in the gray of the morning. He kept to the road only a little distance, and then strapped on his snow-shces, mounted the white waste, and struck off into the hills. His journey was fully as toilsome as he could have expected it to be, and Le hed not exagger- ated its perils in tke least. It was seldom that his sled broke through the crust of the snow, and then it was easily extri- cated, but the labor connected with it was enough to wear out a mule. When it came to pulling the load up slopes so heavy that they might almost be called pre- cipitous, there was no joke about the Lusiness, ore than once he could only ,et forward by taking a turn around a tree, working the sled up to it, and then carrying hisrope on to another tree, and thus repeating the operation until he reached the summit of the acclivity. When it came to descending such slopes, though the labor was less, the other difficulties were something fearful. In order to prevent the sled from running away from him, he was obliged to mcunt it and secure such control as he could get by steer- ing. Coasting is a pleasant and exciting pastime under proper conditions and safeguards; but it becomes decidedly too exciting on a mountain- side, where trees and rocks and other obstruc- tions are to be avoided or encountered. More than once Josh Cattermole was obliged to reverse the process by which he had ascend- ed, and to let his sled down carefully from tree to tree. Thus his progress was slowly painful and pain- fully slow. But he had the satisfaction of feeding and sleeping well, in spite of all inclemencies. Though he was seldom able to build a fire, he had a small oil-stove that served him for cooking purposes, and at night he madea bed of evergreen boughs, wrapped himself well in his blankets, and managed to sleep with a fair degree of comfort. In the daytime, when the sun was beginning to melt the surface of the snow, he looked about with anxiety, if not with fear and treml:ling, as he journeyed through canyons or at the base of mountain ranges, and actually tried to tread softly, as if dreading that the least movement might start the overhanging masses of snow and send them down to overwhelm him. More than one snow-slide came near him; but he passed unharmed through all the dan- gers that beset him, and reached his destination near the close of the fourth day after leaving Butte. Then he saw the first sign of human life that he had encountered during his journey. Near the mouth of a canyon, and close to the foot of a mountainous hight, the top of a lo cabin was visible above the waste of snow, an smoke wreaths curling upward proved that it was inhabited, The cabin, though small, was very stoutly built, and its rear was set directly against the hill, its roof sloping sharply down to the front, asif to allow any masses of snow that might come from above to slide over it and pass down into the va'ler, A small s}ace was cleared off in front of the cabin, and a path had been dug to a clump of trees near by, evidently for the purpose of getting firewood. ; Josh Cattermole dragged his sled up to the summit of the snow pile, and hailed the cabin. To attempt to come upon the occupants of such an establishment unawares might provoke a hasty dose of lead, The door was cautiously opened, and a wo- man’s head was thrust out. —— CHAPTER XII. BET RAWSON’S CHARGE. THE woman who answered Josh Cattermole’s hail was not a beautiful object. Her appearance, in fact, might better be described as “‘ striking.” She was neither young nor old, but probably looked older than she really was. This may have been owing to her hight, as she was unusually tall, to the coarse and un- comely cotton gown she wore, and to her frowsy hair, which indicated an aversion to the comb. Bat her dark eyes were large and expressive, and her features were so good that we might be inclined to say that she would be a handsome woman if she were “ fixed up.” Her form as well as her stature spoke of physi- cal strength, and her face pee token of cour- nae se resolution that could make her strength available. Tcomicbooks (S a 7