Beadle's Dime Library No. 411: The White Crook — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

' it is, yourselves. ~~ + The White Crook. ‘‘ Don’t the hostiles interfere with the wires or the poles?” ‘‘ Never, as far asI know. I believe they are a bit superstitious about them. There’s a shanty, and there are the boys on the keen watc for me!” The valley had narrowed to a glen which had the appearance of being the bed of an occasional mountain torrent; and the ascent was so steep and rugged that the two friends were glad when they reached the crest. There was a small and rude frame shanty, in- to which a wire led from an adjoining pole, and in front of the door were three young men, somewhat similar in appearance to Jack Bunn, who joyfully greeted him and congratulated him on his safe return. He introduced them to his companion as Jim Beebe, Steve Trenholm and Joe Leavenworth, and all were glad enough to make the acquain- tance of the new arrival. ‘¢Tn union there is strength,” observed Tren- holm, “‘ and we five ought to be able to make a decent sort of a fight if it should be forced on us,” After the horses were cared for all went into the shanty. It contained but one room, which was the cooking and sleeping and working room of tho sole proprietor. At one end was a fire-place, and at the other’ end a couch of blankets laid upon grama grass. The remaining furniture consisted of a rude table and seats and a telegraph instrument with its apparatus. The rude walls were brightened by a number of cuts from illustrated papers and colored —_— that were pasted and nailed here and ere. The shanty was hardly more than large enough for one person to inhabit comfortably, and when the five young men had squeezed in i was crowded ** Well, boys,” said Jack Bunn, ‘I have not only brought myself and a friend, but some- thing in the way of consolation that may please ou.’ z Opening his coat he brought out two flasks of “ mountainglew ” which he had procured at Pat Byrne’s, ind upon these his friends seized rly. Take it ** You had better touch that p’izen very lightly, for two good and sufficient reasons, Firstly, cause it is all we are likely to get until we strike the settlements, and secondly, because we had better keep our heads clear, as we may need our wits to save our scalps before we are out of this scrape.” His advice was heeded by the otlers, and the liquor was sampled moderately and filed away for future reference. ** Any news{since I’ve been away?” inquired Jack Bunn. ‘“We have heard from headquarters often enough,” answered Beebe. ‘“‘ They kept want- ing to know if you were here and if there was any Apache news. I answered for them that you wers on deck and that no hostiles had shown , boys,” was Jack’s caution. up yet.” **T called up Pivot Rock,” remarked Leaven- worth. ‘‘Charley said that the reds were re- ported to be all around there and that he was rr light out. Bet it’s a lie.” ‘* What isa lie?” inquired Jack. ‘‘ The report or the light out? Maybe the report was as true as those that sent you fellows kiting away from your stations. As for the lighting out, you may trust Charley todo that. You know how For my part, I mean to light out pretty soon, too, as ny scalp is precious, and I have heard some news this morning that ican depend on.” A burning anxiety to hear this news was in- stantly developed, and Jack gave an account of his meeting with Hark Sarpy at Pat Byrne’s and what he had heard there. ry i The information caused an un feeling in y, and it was clearly the opinion of the majority that the lighting out ought not to be long de ed, Shela and Leavenworth volunteered to go out on the ridge and act as sentries, thus reliev- ing the pressure in the shanty, while Jack Bunn and Beebe cooked a plentiful but not inviting meal for the crowd. When darkness came on it was not considered worth while to pore sentries outside, as they would not be likely to see anything with the best use they could make of their eyes, and the five young men made themselves as comfortable as they could in the one room of the shanty. Cards were produced, and the two flasks were brought out, and the n pape of the party rose as they drew up around the rude table and devoted themselves such festivity as the time and place afforded. ee 2 gpg there were ri of yA be? supplied with weapons, gave them a feeling o security that asserted fiself more strongly as the in the flasks was lowered. ‘‘Tn union there is strength,” said Trenholm “Tf any of those sneaking catamounts ‘should happen around here to-night, we ought to be able to give them a pretty warm recep- tion.” ‘“‘ Bother the red-skins,” exclaimed Beebe. “I don’t believe they are near as tough as they are talked up to be, and I sha’n’t worry about them any more.” “That’s the way I feel,” broke in Leaven- worth. ‘‘We are safe enough as long as the liquor lasts, anyhow.” | ‘* All the same,” suggested Mark Stepney, ‘‘it will be well to have our guns within reach and our pistols handy. What do you say, Mr, Bunn?” ‘*T ain’t saying much,” answered Jack; “‘ but I try to keep my eyes and ears open.” The game was continued and ended, and then the caution that had been maintained concern- ing the tanglefoot ceased to be observed. The contents of the flasks rapidly decreased, and the young men became jolly and careless, Joe Leavenworth, who was proud of himself as a spouter, jumped upon his seat and began to recite the speech of the Banished Duke in ‘‘As You Like It.” ‘‘ Now, my co-mates and comrades in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp?”’ “Oh, get out!” roared Jack Bunn, ‘“ Noth- ing painted here but your nose, and you mustn't expect us to stand that rant. I’d rather the Apaches—~” era | estopped suddenly, and stared at the door, which was just then pushed open. There had not been the slightest sound of an approaching footfall; but two men were there who stalked in unceremoniously, They were formidable persons to look at, be- ing nothing less than stalwart Apaches, two big bucks, naked to the waist, and painted in the fiercest style of aboriginal art, but with nether garments that ‘‘ gave them away” to those whé were versed in such matters. One wore a pair of ragged trowsers, and the other a pair of overalls, Joe Leavenworth had gee instantly from his stand, and Beebe and Trenholm seemed to be endeavoring to shrink out of sight, Mark Stepney had drawn and cocked a re- volver as quick as a flash; but Jack Bunn touched him on the arm: ‘*T don’t think we will need to fight with these fellows,” said the telegraph man. ‘‘ Wait a minute.” The savages stood in the doorway, muttering guttural ejaculations, Jack Bunn opened a box in a corner of the room, and took out two big plugs of tobacco, which he handed to them. They accepted the gifts with a little more gut- tural talk, and left the shanty, after casting longing ae at the bottles on the table. ‘* We had better step out a minute, Mark,” said Jack Bunn, ‘‘ and make sure that they don’é steal any of our horses.” CHAPTER V. PADDY BYRNE’S FATE, WueEn Hark Sarpy and the two young men had left the hostelry, the only persons remain- ing there were Paddy Byrne and the missionary from Michigan, and the latter personage did not seem to be in any hurry to get away. The warning that he had received seemed to have no effect upon him, and perhaps he was loth to leave the whisky, by a portion of which his brain had been more or less touched, Paddy Byrne went to tne back door and looked down the valley, as if to catch a sight of the still retreating form of Zeke Stebbins. Of course he saw nothing of the kind, and he came back to the bar, his sides shaking with Bh ee ‘That's the last o’ Zeke Stebbins!” exclaimed the amused Irishman. ‘‘ He won’t come back hereno more. He don’t want any Hark Sarp in his’n, and he’ll steer clear o’ that ould mon if there’s room enough betwixt this an’ Mexico. Be jabers, it was as gud as a play to see him scamperin’ off as if the devil had bit him.” ‘Tt was well for him to escape the shedding of blood,” observed Cronkhite, ‘** Moighty little danger av any blood-sheddin’ whin there was a chance fur him to git away, Misther Crankeye,” ‘*'Yet there promised to be a serious and bloody contest, and it was owing to my prayers that there came a peaceful ending.” ‘‘ Yer pra’rs, is it? Was it yer pra’rs that give Zeke Stebbins that purty scare? Was it yer pra’rs that tuck the sand out av his craw an’ filled it up wid fear? It didn’t need no pra’rs to do that, Misther Crankeye. The fear was already there, and _ it’s no wonder that he was afeard to face Old Hark.” ‘© Why should a good man fear?” | ‘‘ Well, I dunno as a gud man sh’u’d fear anny- thin’ but Satan; but that hain’t got nothin’ to do wid Zeke Stebbins. A squaw man can’t be a gud man; else why w’u’d he l’ave his own peo- ple an’ take up wid the p’ison red-skins? If there was iver anythin’ gud or white or brave or day- cint in him, that would drain it out.” ‘‘Perhaps he has tho good of their souls at heart.” “Ts it atin’ their bodies up wid whisky that’s goin’ to benefit their sowls? No; it’s the benefit av his pocket that he’s afther. The honest truth is, Misther Crankeye, that it was mesilf who purvented the sheddin’ av blood.” ‘“*How was that, Mr. Byrne?” ** And can’t yez see it widout tellin’? Didn't yez take the laste bit av a tumble to the beauti- ful game I was playin’? Didn't yez know that I was playin’ the keeards so’s to git the two av thim wider apart?” ‘*Tt seemed to me that you were trying to get them together, so that they could have a good chance to kill each other.” ** Bless yer innocent sowl! It’s the full bloom- in’ flowersav ignorance yez are. Whin I sint wan av them out atthe back dure an’ t’other out at the front dure, do "ge fancy fur aminnit that I didn’t know what 1 was doin’? Trust Padd Byrne fur the skill to start a fight or stop it, knew well enough that Zeke Stebbins had his horse hitched there by the back dure, and that as soon as he got clear av the house he’d jump up an’ scamper away fur dear life. And it’s well for him that he did, bad ’cess to him! or Hark Sarpy w’u’d ha’ puta hole through the place where his heart ought to be quicker’n than you ¢’u’d ax me to take a drink.” ‘Ts Hark Sarpy such a terrible man?” in- quired Cronkhite, without noticing the hint con- veyed in the Irishman’s last remark. ‘ Well, he’s a howly terror to thim as needs to be terrified, an’ no mistake about that, Tl as tell ye a short bit av a story about him, Misther Crankeve, , “He happened to be in here wan day a little while afther I’d opened this house—more be token there was purty gud business fur me then, along of a mine that had been opened nigh about, but it petered out, bad ’cess to it, an? left me high an’ dry. ‘Thar was a big crowd here that day, and a purty tough lot it was, too, and Misther Sarpy was sittin in the corner over there, jest as yez saw him this mornin’, takin’ no notice av what was goin’ on, an’ nobody takin’ notice of him, ** A crippled boy kim in, an’ I reckon he had 5 got some of the mine men down on im, ‘* Anyhow, they was jest full enough av the stuff they call whisky about here to be mean and ugly, and they set in to tease and worry the poor boy. ‘“*He stood it well enough till they begam hurtin’ bim, and then they hurted him right bad, I kin tell yez, pinchin’ an’ kickin’ an” 0 him, jist fur the fun av hearin’ him owl. “TI tried to put in a word fur the boy, but I wae pe more ’count than a straw in a whirl wind, ‘* Afther a while two av thim started to lift him up by the ears, while the others jest roared wid laughter at bis screamin’ and kickin’, as if they was a lot of haythen savages. “‘Then it was that old Hark jumped in, or ee in, quiet an’ easy-like, as yez saw him do a bit ago. ““He snatched the boy away from thim, and cussed them black an’ blue fur a set of coward- ly brutes, an’ that’s what they was, to treat a poor cripple so. “They wasn’t goin’ to stand that, as he was only wan man ag’inst a crowd, and they talked back to him sharp enough, and started for the boy. Hark Sarpy knocked downa couple av thim as neat as you’d want to see, and whin the crowd made a rush at bim it w’u’d ha’ done yer inno- cent sowl good to see the man! ‘** He backed the boy into a corner and pulled a couple of revolvers and jest dared the hull b’ilin’ av them to come on. “They stopped to think about it, and that settled the question. ““Whin they looked into Old k’s eyes, and saw fight jumpin’ out at every sparkle, and reckoned up the kind o’ man that was talkin’ to ‘em, they sort 0’ set it down that the fun wasn’t. wu'th fightin’ fur, an’ that ‘twas best not to bother about the boy any more. ‘So Hark led the cripple out, and took him safe to where he belonged, and I didn’t see him ag’in fur a long time.” ‘‘T am afraid that he is a violent and bloody- minded man,” observed Mr. Cronkhite. ‘ Yet. the protection of the crippled boy was a good deed, and he should have credit for that.” ‘0d be glad to bu’st in the skull of the man who'd say it wasn’t a good thing. It was fine, the way he knocked down them two toughs. = oy t quicker’n yez c’u’d ask me to Oo a. rin Again Ephraim Cronkhite proved himself im- earns to all such insinuations, and Paddy yrne became quite disgusted with his unproftt- — able guest. ‘‘I’m thinkin’ ye’d betther be startin’ on,” said the Irishman. ‘* [t is early yet,” suggested Cronkhite. ‘Not a bit too airly fur that. Remimber the warnin’ Misther Sarpy gave yez. Betther hur- ry up an’ git down to arlos, if yez don’t want to git picked up by the ’Paches.” ‘Why should I fear that?. I have come here in the interest of the poar Indians, my friend, and am seeking them in order that 1 may do them good.” 900 Gomic €= con ae