Beadle's Dime Library No. 384 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

pretty peat work in my time, though maybe you wouldn’t think so te look at me, ‘cos ['m ail run down at tbe heel now, ‘“Tt’s all the tault of the lush,” the veteran explained. ‘‘It I could only let rum alone and keep out of boosing kens, I could hold my own with any cracksman w’ot ever crossed the water.” ‘¢You'ro English, eh?’ ‘‘Blarst yer blooming eyes! did yer take me for a duffer of a Yankee?” Bowers demanded, pretending to be amazed that there could be a doubt in regard to his citizenship. **Oh, no: I thought you were a transplant.” ‘*Pma Brum from Birmingham, and when I was a trifle younger I could hold my own with my dukes with any man of my weight in the district, but that’s neither here nor thar. Ive been in this bleeding country ever since I was turned of eighteen—had to cut and run when I was only a kid, ’cos [ knocked out my man ina mill and the bloke never had the decency for to come to. ‘‘'The bobbies and the beaks called it murder, and [ had to git out between two days. ‘* Mebbe you hearn tell of Ben Count’s novice, ‘Pop, the Pot-boy?” The publican nodded. The name seemed familiar to him, and he fancied he had heard of some such individual—the once-famous puzgilist, Ben Count, being well known to him. ‘‘ Well, that’s me, and when I came to this country I jest changed my name, called myself Jock Count, and went out West to the mines, and I've had more ups and downs than could be told of in a week. ‘‘T give up milling when I got big and my wind began to give out, and as Ive allers done a little on the ‘ cross,’ | went into it as a reg’lar biz; but the West has been gitting too hot to hold me lately, and so I’ve come East.” ‘You've made a good move, if you can put the boss up to as good a thing as you say,” the landlord remarked. ‘*T kin do it every time!” the veteran de- clared, impressively. ‘‘ ’m jest old reliable, I am. ‘* Go through the door there,” and the Enelish- man indicated a small door in the back of the room near the bar, ‘‘and I'll meet you.” Bowers did as he was bidden, and found him- self in a small private room right back of the bar. The landlord soon made his appearance, bear- ing two glasses of brandy. ‘* Here's luck to us, mate!” he said, as he handed one to the veteran. ‘* So say we all of us!” responded Bowers, and then the bienly was disposed of in a twinkling, ‘‘ How much, pard?”’ asked the veteran, jing- ling his money. ‘Oh, that’s all right! I stand treat this time. Come along.” Then through a rear door the host conducted Bowers into the small yard at the back of the house. The lot, being a corner one, through a gate in the brick wall which hemmed in the yard on one side, access could be gained to the street. A covered wooden stairway led from the yard to the second floor of the house. On the lower step of the stairway sat a rather under-sized, bullet-headed, evil-looking fellow. ‘* This cove wants to see the old man on par- ticular business,” said the host, addressing the youth. ; “ All right, I guess he kin,” responded the sen- tinel, for such he evidently was, making a care- ful inspection of the bummer as he spoke, ‘When you get through with the captain drop into the bar again and we'll have another rouse,” the jolly landlord remarked, Bowers having ev- idently made an extremely favorable impression upon him. ‘** All right, me noble doo, I am yours to com- mand!” the veteran replied, with a profound bow. The landlord disappeared within the house, and the sentinel rose to his feet. ‘* You’re a nice-looking duffer,” he said, in contempt. ‘The same to you, you hump-back, bandy- legged son of a sea cook!” responded Bowers, with cheerful pleasantry. The young man by this time had ascended three steps of the staircase, ‘‘ Wot’s that you say?” he exclaimed. ‘ You don’t want to give me any of your jaw or Dll belt you in the mug!” ‘ase up on your lip or Pll mash you flatter’n a b’iled muskeeter!” responded Bowers, who had determined upon getting the sentinel out of the way, for as long as he kept watch upon the stair- case it was clearly impossible for a surprise to be werked. “You jest wait till you come out, you old snoozer, and if I don’t make it warm for ‘you—” What more the young shoulder-hitter would have said will never be known, for, as he turned to ascend the stairs, Bowers caught him around the neck and choked him into insensibility with a wonderful quickness, then he tied him and placed a gag in his mouth. BUVaTSUVELU SRAM eae MEG Ul a is ‘‘ Oh, no, merely expressing the sentiments I feel about the matter. Of course, gentlemen, I hope you will do me the justice not to take me for a fool, and I fully understand that this sur- prise game of yours means business. 1 must ad- mit the thing was cleverly worked, for I had not the least idea that such a trap was going to be sprung. ‘This entertaining fellow,”’—and he nodded to Bowers, who grinned and made an elaborate bow, as though pleased at the complin ent, ‘‘managed to gain access tome by pretencuing that he had some money-making scheme in which he desired my co-operation, | ‘* He talked in a style which led me to helieve | ~ thought I wasn’t any better than I ought to a 2, j LTT LL Te ee This accomplished, he quickly summoncd Tal- bot and Phenix, who waited upon the opposite sidewalk. ‘* You go in first and see if the coast is clear,”’ said the detective. bowers obeyed immediately. He turned the handle of the door, it was un- locked, and opening, gave him entrance to the sanctum of the outlaw chief. Everest was alone in the room, undisguised and busy with some letters as Bowers entered. ‘*T beg your pardon, boss,” said the veteran. ‘* The cuss down stairs told me tocomeup. [ve come to let you into a job,” and then he gave a whistle and Phenix and Talbot made their ap- pearance, eo ee “T own, frankly, gentlemen, that I am a CHAPTER XVIII, sporting man—I am all that the name implies, BROUGHT TO BAY. and although some of my detractors choose to hint sometimes that 1 use unfair means to attain the end I desire to reach, yet I am not any worse than the rest of the men of my kidney who make a living on the green turf of the race-track by _day, and are ardent devotees of King Faro at night.” ‘Oh, you know well enough what we come about, Everest!” exclaimed Phenix, bluntly, ‘‘and there ain't any use of beating about the bush.” ‘* Not the slightest,” observed Talbot. ‘* You know me and I know vou,” * The latter may be true, but the first I deny,” Everest replied, perfectly cocl. ‘** Considering that you have attempted to kill me on three separate occasions this pretended ignorance is rather far-fetched, it seems to me,” ‘Lalbot observed. ‘*Upon my word, I assure you that you are talking in riddles. I protest I do not under- stand it at all.” ‘You are wanted, Everest!” said Phenix, in his stern way. ‘‘ Do yeu understand that?” ** Certainly; such a summons cennot be mis- understood,” and the man fairly laughed in the face of the detective, as though he thought the matter was a good joke, ‘*May I ask of what crime Iam accused?” ** Murder!” A low whistle escaped from Everest’s lips, ‘* Murder, eh?” he exclaimed. ‘* Well, it’s no light matter, and.I begin to believe I must get a little serious about it. Whoam I accused of murdering?” ‘** Leander Beaverwick.” ** Never heard of such a man,” he commented. ** And where and when did I do this deed?” ** About a month ago, on the outskirts. of Yampa City, Colorado,” ‘*T really must plead ignorance of all know)- edge of any such a remarkably named town, In fnct, I never was in Colorado but once in my life, and as you, Mr. Phenix, remarked a little while ago, the thing is too gauzy altogether. ** The accusation is ridiculous and I can preve. that I was in New York a month ago by a dozen witnesses.” ‘Yes, but you will not be tried in New York. It is my intention to procure a requisition and have you taken back to Colorado:to be tried,” Talbot remarked. ‘* In the language of the sporting world, illus- trious stran vy let me tell youthat that chicken will not fight,” Everest replied, contemptucus- THE surprise was complete, and yet Everest never quailed in the least nor manifested any particular concern. He merely looked amazed as any man might have done at the unceremonious intrusion of the strangers through the rear door, but did not be- tray any alarm. ‘‘Are these gentlemen acquaintances of yours?” he asked, turning to Bowers, ‘* Yos, they are my pards now, I reckon ” Both Talbot and Phenix surveyed Lverest with decided interest. The first was anxious to see if he could trace | any resemblance between the man whom he now faced and the old fellow who had inquired the way to Murphy’s Guleh amid the wilds of Colorado, and be looked too to ascertain if Everest was the man who, masquerading under the name of Smithers, had so completely hood- winked him. But keen of vision as was Injun Dick in this instance, he found his judgment was at fault, If the pale, cool ard gentleman-sport like Malachi Everest had played the roles of the old man and the fresh young countryman, bis dis- guise in both ae had been so complete, that it was impossible to trace any resemblance now that he appeared in his own proper person, and yet the Indian animal-like instinet which was so strong in Injun Dick Talbot, seemed to warn him that he really stood in presence of the true criminal—the murderer whom he had tracked from the Rocky Mountains to the great city of the East, It was the first time too that the great sleuth- hound, Joe Phenix, had ever stood face to face with the master rascal whose -‘vell-planned schemes he had often succeeded in baffling when minor rascals had: attempted to carry them out. It was only natural under the circumstances that the detective should survey with consider- able curiosity the man who was supposed to have originated fully one-half of all the great criminal enterprises which had bothered the police during the last ten years, Assuredly Malachi Everest did not look to be a desperate and determined criminal, al- though the lines in his face would have satis- fied a close observer, who was a good judge of his fellow-man, that the fellow, despite his quiet look, was possessed of an indomitable will and a courage that would not falter at any possible danger. ‘*] suppose you intend this as a sort of a little surprise party for me,” Everest continued. ‘* Although I am really in the dark as to what has procured for me the honor of making the acquaintance of any one of you gentlemen.” y: ‘*Phenix, you ought to know better than* that. Tell this gentlemen that we bave some able criminal lawyers in ke ma cu and that it — isn’t an easy matter to take mon out of the city ‘*Oh, come, Everest, that 1s entirely too | who are backed by money and friends without gauzy,” Joe Phenix exclaimed. ‘‘Though we | there is exceedingly strong proof of their hav- have never met before, you know me well | ing committed the crime with which they are enough.” charged, ‘* Upon my word I assure you that you have ‘*T know what your game is as well as theugh the advantage of me,” the other replied, witha | I put up the cards myself,” he continued, ad- pleasant smile, as though he looked upon the | dressing Talbot. matter as a good joke. **You men out in Coloraco want a victim. ‘You evidently know me, for you call me by | If you should succeed in getting me out there name, but I cannot return the compliment.” Judge Lynch would come some fine night and ‘*My name is Fhenix.” that would be the end of your »umble servant, ‘The appellation of a fabulous bird, but often | hanged without the formality of a trial.” a human cognomen, [ judge.” ** Joseph Phenix—l am a cetective officer.” ‘* Yes, yes, yes, I believe I have heard of you, now that you rocall your name to my memory. ‘You are one of those wonderful detective fellows who are always coming in unexpected! through doors and windows, but just at the nic of time always, clapping trembling and baffled villains on the shoulder or else putting pistols to their heads, coupled with the exclamation, in a deep base voice: ‘ You are my prisoner!’ You see I am well posted. I never happened to run across the thing in real life, but I have seen it done on the stage and read about it in novels a hundred times.” ‘You are disposed to be merry over the mat- ter,” Phenix remarked, with a smile, really en- joying the coolness of the man. t was a pleasure for the experienced detective to meet with a first-class rascal. There was some fun in hunting down really CHAPTER XIX. THE CHALLENGE, “Ono, ho!” and Everest gave utterance to a loud laugh. ‘It is a good scheme, a very ron scheme indeed, but the trouble with the thing is that it will not work; otherwise it is all right.” 4 ‘*Oh, you’re the boss, you air!” exclaimed Bowers, who had been gazing at the cool head- ed adventurer with evident amazement and who found it impossible to refrain from con- fessing his admiration at the pluck displayed by the accused, ‘* Well, I'm boss enough not to be the victim of such a shallow trick as this extradition to the wilds of Colorado,” the other replied. ‘*Come, Phenix, speak out!” he added. ‘*T’ve always heard you spoken of as a square big game; for the most of the prey nowadays | man, Have the kindness to explain to this gen- were only petty scoundrels, hardly worth the | tleman—I’ve not nad the pleasure of learning trouble of capturing. your name—” I Ebooks (ECOL (E(0)