Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 41 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

—_—~ his face. ‘‘ And ’ow is the gal—curse her! ’ow is she, eh?’ the Mormon cried in wrath. ‘* Pretty well, I thank you; how are you?” “Do you .know what I’m goin’ to do to you?” and the irate husband menaced his destined victim with his huge fist. ‘No; I haven’t the slightest idea.” ‘‘T’m a-goin’ to mash that pretty face of yourn so that Mary- Jane won’t know yer when you go back to her!” ‘Well, that will be rough on Mary-Jane, won’t it?” “Tl jest ’arn you how to come foolin’ round my wives!” ‘* Tt’s to be a fair fight, then?’ and the plainsman didn’t seem to be at all appalled at the prospect. ‘‘ A fight!” cried the angry Mormon in contempt. ‘‘ No! there lick!” ** Gentlemen!” the plainsman exclaimed, addressing the crowd at large, ‘‘ yousee how this thing is, This man forces the quarrel on me, and all I ask is a fair show, Can I have it?’ An emphatic ‘‘ Yes” came from the lips of nearly every man in the room, despite the angry looks of the Mormon gang, ‘*That’s all I ask!” Gold Dan cried, “and now then, you fat scoundrel, proceed to mash!’ “Oh, Pll fix yer!” Googer yelled, as he made a blow at the smiling face before him. It was a stroke that would have almost felled an ox. But, like the lively flea, renowned in story, Gold Dan wasn’t “there;” he dexterously dodged the blow and the Mormon bruised his knuckles against the wall, splitting the board clear in twain; but, before he could recover himbelf, the plainsman, who had nimbly slipped under his arm, had him round the mid- die of the body, raised him from the floor, and with a strength which few would have believed possible, pitched the burly ‘saint ” headlong to the other end of the room. Down went the Mormon, all in a heap, with a concussion that — shook the very house to its foundations, A long breath came from the spectators, who had anxiously watched the scene—a breath ot relief that the Mormon bruiser had met his match, Then Gold Dan quickly stripped off his gaudy hunting shirt and tossed it to the Monte Queen to hold, rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt, displaying a pair of arms, wonderful in their devel- opment; and, too, the bystanders saw that in the belt that girded in his supple waist, the plainsman carried a small arsenal of offensive weapons. The Mormon, perceiving that he had taken no easy task upon himself, also stripped for the contest. He was bruised and bat- .tered by the fall and his right hand was almost useless, injured by the terrible blow which had fallen upon the wall. ‘‘Game,” though, was the Briton; but he advanced with cau- tion, determined this time not to hold his antagonist too cheaply. But the Mormon, despite his boasting, was no boxer, as was soon apparent, for, after a few passes, the plainsman made a desperate lunge with his left hand at the puffy face of his antag- onist; in haste the Mormon essayed to ward the blow, and. uncovering himself by the action, gave his skillful foe a chance to plant a most terrific right-hander full in the stomach, just above the belt. The blow when it struck sounded like a vigorous thump given to a bass drum, and with a howl of pain the Mormon went over flat on his back, knocked completely out of time. The bystanders roared—the Mormons excepted, for they swore fearfully. This was the most ridiculous fight that the town of Corinne had ever seen. It was fully five minutes before the bully recovered. “No more fists! Give me a pistol, somebody!” he cried, CHAPTER VIL UNDER THE MOON, “Gi’n me a pistol, I say!” the enraged Mormon vociferated, smarting with pain, every bone in his body aching, the result of the violent concussion with the floor. The bystanders had watched the scene with anxious eyes. Gold Dan was pretty well known in the town of Corinne, having made it his head-quarters in the past, when in from scouting. A prairie-guide and scout, he was reputed to be very excellent in his calling; a bold, daring fellow, who held his life at a pin’s fee; a good shot, skillful on the trail; an able wielder of the ponderous | bowie-knife, so common to the’ frontier; but not a man within the room had ever imagined that the plainsman could “handle” himself so well in a fisticuff match. No mean foe was the brawny Briton, as more than one boast- ing borderer had found to his cost, and yet Gold Dan had played with him as though he were but a child. Even the dark-faced Danite leader, stern John Clark, knitted his brows and looked with wonder upon the scout. The bold “Duke of Corinne” was not given to underrating a foe, but. even in his highest estimate he had never held Gold Dan highly; but after this display of the plainsman’s quality, Gold Dan had rose much in his estimation; therefore the Danite attempted to restrain the bruised and beaten Googer. ‘Don’t make a fool of yourself, man!” he said in the ear of the Mormon, grasping his shoulder with his strong hand; “‘ you’ve . got enough; come away!” But the Briton was as obstinate as a mule. ‘JT ’ain’t ’adenough! Blarst my heves if I’m going to give it “Oh, yes, I’ve got back,” Dan answered with a queer smile on © won’t be no fight, for I'll jest mash you into pancakes the furst _ 6 Beadle’s Dime Library. up so! It’s ’is ’eart’s blood I’m arter now! barker, now—quick!” he cried. For a wonder the Mormon was not armed. ‘‘ Who wants a pistle?” cried a loud, hoarse voice, as a brawny, six-footer, attired in a red-flannel shirt, sadly in need of soap and water, rough pantaloons and big boots, strode into the saloon. A shock of red hair covered his head, the frowsy ends escaping from under the edge of the well-worn, high-crowned felt hat he wore, and his chin was hidden by a bushy red beard. The belt that girded in his massive waist supported a whole arsenal of small weapons. The man was a stranger to Corinne, and all within the room looked at him with astonishment. ‘‘ Kin I believe me ears?” the stranger ejaculated. ‘Do I hear a free American citizen a cryin’ out for a pistle? Ware’s the man? I kin gi’n him a choice of we’pons all the way from a jack- ass battery down to a pop-gun!” Somebody lend me a The giant’s eyes now fell upon the figure of Gold Dan. He | gave a start, brought his brawny palm down upon hisethigh with a slap that sounded like the report of a pistol. old cat?’s left hand hoof!” he cried, ‘* I reckon I’ve seen you afore, pilgrim! Shake!” and he made an affectionate rush at the plains- man and shook hands with him vigorously. ‘It’s a heap of years since we paddled our canoes together!” ‘Yes, you remember me, Gold Dan, eh?” the plai.isman replied, with a searching glance into the face of the other. ‘‘Sartin, in course! Why I knowed you was my antelope the moment I set eyes on you; but, I say, whar’s the man that was a-howling for a pistle?” The Mormons had taken advantage of the interruption, afforded by the giant’s entrance, to gather around Googer and endeavor to persuade him to give up his purpose of meeting the plainsman in a pistol encounter. ‘¢- You fool! he’ll settle your hash, dead sure!” cried one, ‘You won’t stand any chance at all!” declared another. ** He’s a dead-shot!” exclaimed a third. But they might as well have talked to the winds as far as pro- ducing an impression was concerned, The blood of the beaten Mormon was up and nothing but a duel to the death would satisfy him. A fair type of the average follower of the Latter Day Sainta was Googer—a brutal, ignorant fellow, with very little more brains than a bull dog, and possessed of the dogged ferocity that is the characteristic of that brute. “T want a revolver and I don’t want no talk!” he cried, bluntly. ‘I reckon that I’m as good a shot as he is, or hany two like ’im!” / “* Let him have his way,” Clark said, contemptuously. ‘ Give him a revolver, some of you, and you had better make your will, Googer, for this fellow will be pretty sure to settle you,” Googer, busily engaged in examining the revolver which one of his companions had handed him, merely growled; his rage was so great that he could hardly speak. ‘*Wa/’al, durn my © The Mexican, Castana, the proprietor of the saloon, who had | been a witness to the quiet scene which had transpired, now thought it time to interfere. “Gentlemen, let me suggesi that you adjourn to the street,” he said, in his quiet, snaky way. ‘‘The moon is bright—there is plenty of light, and it is a far more suitable place.” “Ee to the street!” Clark exclaimed; ‘“‘ we need air and room. And then the Mormons at once poured through the door, - taking the unwilling Googer with them; the angry Briton hated for an instant even to lose sight of his foe. “And was that the ’coon that wanted the pistle?” the red- shirted giant cried, ‘‘and he wanted it for to slew you with! Wa’al, durn my luck! an’I was a-gwine to lend him one of my — pop-guns; an’ he’s one of the Mormons, too, I reckon—the cusses that wrastle with five wives, when one is enuff to make a mule sick; but you kin salivate him, I reckon,” ““T can try,” the plainsman replied, quietly. This conversation took place as the two were passing through the door, following the lead of the Mormons, The moonlit street did indeed give ample scope for the designs of the men who were about to stand up opposite to each other in mortal encounter. All the men within the saloon had marched into the street anxious to behold the shooting match, and even the dark-eyed Queen of Monte, dashing Kate of Durango, through the open door of the saloon watched the proceedings intently. The Mormons had gone up the street two or three hundred yards and were clustered together; Gold Dan leaned carelessly against one of the awning-posts of the saloon waiting for the ball to open. The bystanders generally had selected positions from whence a full view of the fight could be had without danger of stopping a ball, In these street encounters the bystanders are generally exposed to about as much peril as the actual duelists them- selves. ‘Long John Clark left the Mormon group and advanced down the street to where the plainsman was standing. ‘‘ Are you all ready?” he asked. “*'Yes,”, Gold Dan replied. “So is the party yonder; are you willing that I shall give the signal for the thing to commence?” “ve no objection.” “Pll do the square thing, you may depend upon it; you’re almost a stranger to me, and maybe I’m the same to you, but I reckon that there isn’t a human on top of this earth that can say that John Clark ever took a mean advantage of the man that trusted him. I’m no friend to you, spi and I shouldn't be Ss comichoo! Pao (E(0)] fi ee Fog oe »