Beadle's Dime Library No. 411: The White Crook — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 The White Crook. | “ exchange for such entertainment as the shanty | time scrutinizing everything and everybody | quick to let yez know that they’d be more’n afforded. more carefully. willin’ to try to git along widout yez.” ; It set forth the fact that ‘‘ P. Byrne” was the Again he seemed satisfied that there was noth- ‘*T shall not return to Michigan,” sternly re- x ‘proprietor, and the further fact that his business | ing that ought to excite his suspicions, and he | plied the orator, ‘‘ I shall remain here and de- . -was to furnish ‘‘ Refreshments.” Oe Evidently the artist had not been di d to ie, do any more than he had bargained to do. ‘a The refreshments alluded to were quite scanty | in quantity and poor in quality, such as could | -—s- never give Paddy Byrne’s place the reputation | of a first-class hotel. a? There was a ramsbackled shed with a little hay ae and corn under it, where horses might be fed, pe and in the shanty something in the shape of a Ba meal could be dished up if the proprietor chanced | to be sober enough—if not, the guest must for- wale e about and do the best he could for himself. hs he main reliance of the establishment was ae whisky, upon which Paddy Byrne could always | fall back in any sort of an emergency, oe To this style of refreshments the main room of _ the shanty was devoted, being provided with a / - - rude plank counter, behind which was a shelf ms that held a few bottles and glasses. Pee. Barrels and kegs were also visible, suggestive - of a sufficient supply of spirituous refresh- ments, et It was nearly noon of an April day, and Paddy | Byrne was standing behind his bar—a stout, __—- red-faced man, coarse of features and rough in _ __ attire—with a short and black pipe in his mouth ak P aac seemed to be an inseparable portion of him- oe . ‘ He had customers, too, to wait upon as well as to converse with. _____ Two of them were bright young men, who had metthere for the first time, and seemed to be _~=mutually pleased with each other. ? a “~~ * ae A third was a lanky individual, with long | hair and a cadaverous countenance, wearing a + coat that was suggestive of ministerial proclivi- 3 ties. He had ridden up on a horse that was nearly as bony as himself, and had been seated almcst an hour against the wall on a block of wood that served for a chair, without calling for a - drink or being invited to accept one. ' ~~ Consequently he was not regarded with favor ‘by the landiord, who emitted a contemptuous | puff of smoke whenever his glance lighted on aoe the lanky and silent sitter. / The fourth guest was searcely visible. - _He had come in silently and alone, had pur- - @hased and absorbed a glass of whisky in silence _» and alone, and had then retired to a dark cor- ner, where he sat in silence on a block of wood nursing a rifle. | Those two silent ones made life in Paddy - _Byrne’s hostelry rather monotonous, as the two bright young men had nobody but themselves to -.. talk Lo bbb the exception of an occasional word Or The: . = ad ww, * . @ proprietor. Bae e monotony was broken by the arrival of a fifth guest. ‘ : _ ‘He rode up on an Indian .pony, and there was something about him which, to those who were acquainted with such matters, was indicative of association with Indians. : ‘Tt was not in his attire, as he wore a blue jeans coat and trowsers, witha blue flannel shirt and a brown felt hat, and was belted in civilized style with cartridges, a revolver and a knife, in | Sig addition to which ornament he carried a rifle. ‘Tt was not in bis features or general appear- ance, as he was a acer mm man of medium stature, and was evidently a white man, his _ dark complexion being nothing unusual in that , . waa - 4 &, _ ; on. . \ -. There must have been something in his gait - and action that spoke of his antecedents, and - - more especially something in the quick and fur- tive glance he cast about him as he entered the 3 -sbant _ Doubtless he saw nothing suspicious there, as he stepped a up to the bar, where he was welcomed by Paddy Byrne as an old acquain- ey ei Why Zeke Stebbins!” exclaimed the land- oa Jord. OTts ages sence I’ve seen yez. How air om Tec anyhow, and whur hey yez been fur ivver Tm ~=tol’able,” answered Stebbins, in a low _ .and secret tone that seemed to be peculiar to him, “and Pve been around and about.” -— *& And what wull yez be afther hevin’ this : i ; ' ‘Some good whisky, if you’ve got it.” ‘‘T hain’t got it,” answered Paddy Byrne as a 2. ¥ ~_ » % * ® 4 he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the 17 Ey unter. | ee d: sar Hain’t got it?” repeated Stebbins in a tone | _ of consternation. ‘*Got no whisky?” “Wall, ve got what they call whisky in this - God-forsaken country; but yez was askin’ fur good whisky, and that’s what I hain’t seen a -___ drap of sence I lift the ould sod.” Oh, that way! I might have remembered your style. Give me the eae got, then.” ~*~“ give yez somethin’, Misther Stebbins, that'll burn a hole down yer gullet, and that’s what ye’r’ wantin’, I’m thinkin’.” + While the landlord was setting out a bottle _ and a glass, the new-comer took another survey of the room and its inmates, ae glance was quick and furtive as before, “xg seemed to be a little more confident, this 4° : i ie ot ts int, _e ‘ . mt : - r* r | iy TL : 1 ¥ ad £ -. ' aw me PA ae turned to thetwo young men who were stand- as Spe the bar, and invited them to join him. ne of them, to judge from his look of dis- gust, seemed to be inclined to refuse the invita- tion, but the other nudged him, and both ac- cepted. eke Stebbins seemed to overlook the man in the dark corner, and turned to him who was seated against the wall. ‘*Take a drink, stranger?” he inquired. The lanky man’s way of responding to the invitation was peculiar—at least peculiar in that region. * Well, I don’t know,” he slow!y replied, as he straightened himself up. ‘I ain’t used to drinkin’ spirituous liquor ”—here he rose to his feet-—" but ip this country it may be a dooty a man owes to himself ”—here he shuffled toward the bar—‘‘ to take, as St. Paul says, a little wine for the stomach’s sake”—here he reached the counter—“ and I guess I may as well try a leetle of that whisky.” Zeke Stebbins had already forgotten him, and was absorbing his p’ison, nodding to the two young fellows, when the lanky man helped him- self toa glass full of the fiery fluid, and drank it slowly and deliberately, as if he liked it. ‘I’m glad yez have turned up at last, Zeke,” said Paddy Byrnes, ‘‘ bekase I reckon yez kin give us the news we are achin’ fur in these parts,” ‘* What news?” inquired Stebbins. ‘** ‘Bout the ’Pache uprisin’.” ‘*T don’t know nothin’ about any uprisin’. Don’t know nothin’ about the ’Paches.” ‘“'Yez don’t? Well, it’s quare if yez don’t. Don’t trade with them no more? Don’t sell ’em no more whisky?” ** ve gone to minin’ and spekilatin’.” ‘**Yez have? That’s quare ag’in. Don’t see how yez e’u’d cut loose from ’em, A squaw man, too, ‘Who says I’m a squaw man? That's jest what I ain’t, I married a woman who ‘had been brought up among the ’Paches, but she was a Mexican—not a drap of Injun blood about her!” ‘*Glad to hear that. Well, Zeke, I reckon yez made yer pile, and ought to be satisfied.” ‘* Never you mind about my pile. What's that news about the ’Paches?” ‘* That they’ve bruk out, that’s the news, and bad news it is, too. The way we git it about here is that five hundred or a thousand bucks have ri the San Carlos corral and gone off on the wild. I reckon that means fifty or a hun- dred, but that’s enough, wid the loose ones over one hills, as you ought to know, Zeke Steb- ns. ‘*T dunno as I ought to know. I dunno, too, as the ’Paches are so mighty much to blame. Jest look at the case as it is. A lot of men—” ‘* Murderfers!” suggested Pat Byrne. ‘‘ They’ve murdered and been murdered, and they allus got the wu’st of it. A lot of men, I says, who have been used to huntin’ and roamin’ about the kentry jest as they pleased, ’cause they allus lived thar and owned it, are hauled down and shet up in a corral, with nothin’ to eat but measly bacon, starved beef, and mag- gotty flour, while the white folks are runnin’ over ther lands and gobblin’ ’em up, and they are expected to stay thar and keep quiet. Ain’t it too much to look fur? White men couldn’t do it, much less the ’Paches, who have never been trained down to anythin’ o’ the sort. No, they ain’t so mighty much to blame.” ‘Our friend is righ*,” interposed the lanky man, whose tongue had been oiled by the whis- ky he drank at Zeke Stebbins’s expense, and who seemed to be anxious to make amends for his recent silence, ‘* He is quite right, and 1 honor his boldness and sincerity. The truth should be told in the high places of the land, and the greed and rapa- city and cruelty of the white settlers should be exposed. The story of our dealings with the unfortunate red-men is the darkest chapter in American history. They have been robbed of their lands, swindled, impoverished, slaughtered by starvation and the bullet, until hardly a remnant remains of the once free and noble—” agaety mister!” broke in Paddy Byrne, rudely interrupting what was evidently a speech that had been often rehearsed. ‘‘ Who air yez, annyhow, and whar did yez come from?” “My name, sir, is Ephraim Cronkhite, and I am a minister of the Gospill from the good State of Michigan. I have come here on a mis- sionary errand, to improve the condition of the poor red-men, and to call the attention of the authorities at Washington to the impositions that are practiced upon them.” “Ts Michigan a good State, thin, Misther Crankeye?” inquired the Irishman, as he leaned | forward on his counter. ‘* A very good State, sir, is Michigan.” ‘“‘l'm thinkin’, thin, Misther Crankeye, that it w’u’d be a es State fur to move back to purty soon. If you should give the people of his poor, spFeittna | Territory much of that sort of fall yez in at jist now, they might be ws i - am q ‘44 ; Ras ' f = + * ~, .7 we’ . 4 « R ' it y 7 . VV eS aS ea * +, a 1 af % loa wy ae —. eee vote myself to the labor of converting the un- fortunate Apaches and bringing them under the influences of Christianity and civilization.” ** You’ve got a big contract on your hands, stranger.” This remark was made in a deep voice and impressive tones, that caused all to turn and look at the speaker. He was the man who had been seated in the dark corner, and who had approached the group so silently that his presence had not been perceived, CHAPTER II. HARK, THE HATER. It was no wonder that al) the other guests in Paddy Byrne’s hostelry turned to look at the man who had come up out of the dark corner, as he was a remarkable man. His voice attracted their attention, and his appearance held it. f it had not been for his unmistakably Cau- casian features he might have been taken for an Indian, as his skin was deeply bronzed, and his raven-black hair was worn long and straight, and his dark eyes had the piercing but at the same time restless look peculiar to the untamed aborigines. He wore, however, a full and heavy beard, which was probably never trimmed except with the scissors, and in both beard and hair there were many threads of silver. When he sat there in the corner he might have been Sree to be an insignificant per- son; but when he had raised himself to his full hight, he was seen to be a man of commanding presence. There could be no qucstion of his thews and sinews, and it was evident that there was not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his bones, though his tunic-coat of worn and dirty deer-skin did not show off his figure to advantage, nor did the flannel strips or *‘ savers” that were wrapped about his legs tend to improve his appearance. Besides the fine Winchester rifle which he had been hugging in the corner, he carried two belts of cartridges, two revolvers and a knife, In fact he looked like a walking arsenal and ammunition-chest. His face was shaded by a heavy gray felt hat, about which he wore a Mexican silver band, with a metal image, and onthe front of his deer- skin coat were scattered metal images of birds and beasts, and around his neck was hung a string of beads witha cross and an image at- tached to it. The man was evidently very superstitious in religion or otherwise. Ancther strange thing about him was the complete ew his manner and tone after he had joined the group at the bar. At first he was fiery and impulsive, and his voice was harsh and almost savage; but direct- ly his countenance and action were mild and subdued, and when he next spoke his tones were soft and persuasive, as if he feared that he had intruded upon the company. oe was instantly recognized-by at least two of em. Paddy Byrne’s face lighted up with pleasure and Zeke Stebbins’s dark skin flushed at first and then turned ashen pale. ‘‘Hyer’s Hark Sarpy,” said the Irishman. “I'd nigh about forgot him. He knowsmore of the *Paches and the’r ways than any o’ this gang ‘less it’s Zeke Stebbins.” ‘* The gentleman from erp oak is mistaken,” said the man who was called Hark Sarpy. “‘ He means well, let us hope, but he knows nothin about the Apaches or any other Indians. some of those free and noble aborigines should happen to get hold of him, they would soon con- vince him of his error.” . The man spoke so well, with such evident in- telligence and good use of language that the two bright young men looked upon him with re- spect. PO Perhaps you are prejudiced, my friend,” Cronkbite suggested. ‘¢ Perhaps I am, but I know what I am talking about. e Apache seems to me to be scarcely more of a human being than the catamount or the wolf is. It would be as easv to make a pet of one of those beasts as to civilize an Apache, He is wild by nature, and to tame him is to - make anend of him. There used to be but one kind of Apaches—the savage and murderous brutes whose only business was to kill and plun- der everybody who was not an Apache. eir history 1s written in blood and ‘fire all over Northern Mexico, from the Rio Grande to the Pacific, from El Paso to Durango.” . ‘They were oppressed,” suggested Cronkhite. ‘‘ Oppressed? Yes, I suppose they were. a ressed by a craving for blood and plunder. No- y who could keep away from them went near them in their own country, and they had to go hundreds of miles from home to hunt their human prey. They always went, and they al- ways gotit. Yes, they were oppressed as the catamount and wolf are.” ; } ‘** But they are different ot ib said the mig- ~ comic J = » Te * i 4 | : . 7 7 ah, a i "SP +t e