Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 416 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

i se —so> _— —_—~ - a OO aNTe ee 4 4 ; ay _ >. ao «e f * ati eo *.. 4.4 Spa + a. lies a i= .* p » «> e : a y - < a hx” aes > ~ < ~ < ¥ e { - * eS am hey 6 Rice was sharp-sighted enough to see this, and consequently he felt little compunction about clearing himself of one whom he already considered his rival. *“‘Miss Pennington, I trust you will believe me, when I say that, had I suspected the real facts of the case, | would not have mentioned this affair, but, since your cousin has spoken so plainly, 1 must tell the truth, or myself rest under the imputation of having told you a false- hood. Nay,” he added, impetuously, as the lady was about to speak, ‘‘ hear me out, please. ** This Monte Jim is so called because he is the chief of a gang of three-card monte players. It is a game that seems to possess peculiar at- tractions for those who never saw it worked before, and with such an adroit rascal at the head, it is not strange that your cousin was led to betting heavily on the game, though he had not achanco to win. He did bet, and the ng under Monte Jim won five thousand dol- iors from him.” ‘* But —they both said a pickpocket took it— and he brought it back to cousin,” faltered Me- dea, puzzled. “Monte Jim was the pickpocket, then,” with ashort laugh. ‘* Andif he restored the money, ou may be sure he his bigger game in viow. eaven grant his ovil schemes may not include you, Miss Pennington!” he fervently added. Despite the powerful attraction which she had felt: for the dashing sport, Medea could no longer doubt the truth, and a cold chill crept over her frame as she began to feel that she had narrowly escaped somo terrible peril—just what, would have surely puzzled her to say. ‘* But why did he—my cousin—try to deceivo e?’ ‘* Doubtless because he wished to keep you from suspecting the fact of his having lost his money at a gambling game.” = Why do you permit such men to ply their vile vocation among your ers Why suffer them on the train at all?” A short, bitter laugh parted the lips of the conductor. ‘*Why? Because I can’t helpit! Miss Pen- nington, I am as helpless as a child in arms, I have been a faithful servant to the men who own this road, almost from the day the first spike was driven. I have performed my wd in every respect, as long as I was permitted. And yet, this is my last run over the road, un- less I am sadly mistaken. Shail I[ tell you why?” edea nodded, strongly impressed by his _ earnest speech. owns the men who own this road! ‘* Because Monte Jim, as ho calls himself, That sounds harsh, considering the nature and calling of the fellow, but for all that, I speak within bounds. ‘*For some reason, possibly because he knew I was powerfully opposed to men of his caliber —Monte Jim rarely tried his tricks along my run, though he made up for this on the other trains. Once or twico I caught his gang at work, and each time I forced them to cease op- ‘erations. By that course, I got them down on “me, and I felt it at headquarters, af Still, I never dreamed that his influence was sc great, until this week. I caught them skin- ning a stupid German who had an abundance of money, and forced the gang to disgorge their lunder. Some of them offered to show fight, t my train-men stood by me, and Monte Jim bade them submit, ? ~~ , ‘‘T reported the affair at headquarters, and though I have not heard direct from there, [ know that on this very train there is carried an order discharging me, to be delivered when we reach the end of the run. Monte Jim also sent to headquarters, and to his influence I owe my _ discharge.” ‘‘ For simply performing your duty?” **You can judge for yourself. And thus judg- ing, can you longer wonder that I was indig- nant when I caught that rascal seated beside you, so soon after one of my men told me of his robbing a passenger of a large sum of money?” **No; you were asa ge right, and I thank "a sincerely. Yet—he appeared a perfect gen- eman,” “They say a rattlesnake becomes a vision of beauty wheu once it has its victim fascinated; but that does not lessen its poisonous nature. Of the two, I believe the scrpent is the less to be - feared. ‘‘ You heard the words he spoke as he left here? Do you wish to learn more of Monte Jim?’ Medea Pennington hesitated for a brief space, then her head was imelined. There was a strange fascination about the rt Se as there was about the man himself—which sho cou d not resist. | . Nothing loth te prolong the interview, and having nothing te call him away until the end of the road was reached, Will Rice leaned one arm across the back of the seat, and spoke: ‘‘ You have seen the man, have heard him k,and know that he can at pleasure assume the manner of a gentleman. Who he is, or whence he came, I doubt if any other than bim- self could tell you. It is not difficult to see that at some time in the past, he has been used to tar different company than that which he now a ——EE———EE — SS ——— Se J; 2 pS a < = oe ee -——™ He is an educated man, is handsome in keeps. cts fans and figure, has an unlimited supply of assurance, and if all that is told is true, abso- lutely knows no fear. ‘* All this makes him a particularly dangerous man when he has once marked a victim, and I don’t believe a week has passed since he first came to te surface as a confidence-man without at least one tragedy staining his record. He has been the principal in at least a score of street fights, and can boast as populous a pri- vate graveyard as any other desperado in the | wild West, If no worse crime—as estimated | here—could be brought up against him, he | would be deemed a hero. As it is, he has a | strong backing among the rougher element, | who hardly ever go to sleep without feeling the dread touch of an rope around their throats as they dream. For one friend, Monte | Jim has a hundred enemies, and it is only a | matter of time how soon he will have to flee for life, or die a dog’s death. ‘*Less than ono month ago, he came under the shadow of the rope. It happened on this road, though not on my train. eand his gang of human wolves had spotted a victim with a large sum of money; a man with a wife and several children, coming out to join a relative who was to take him int» partnership. “The gang soon got in their work. The foolish fellow was led on to betting at monte. Ile was permitted to win a few dollars, and then the trick of the marked card was brousht into play, and hoping to double his little for- tune—just as your cousin hoped—he put up every dollar he owned in the world. Of course he lost, for they took precious good care that he should have no possible chance to win. And then, as he saw his last dollar gone—as he thoucht of his wife and poor chilUren—while the wolves who so mercilessly fleeced him were laughing at his agony, the poor devil snatched a pistol from one of them and thrusting the muzzle against his temple, fired and scattered his braing all over the lost moncy just as his wife, who somehow learned of her busband’s peril, entered the coach. ‘*She fell across his corpse, and her little children sobbed at her side. A man picked her up and restored her toconsciousness., He placed the money—stained with the blood and brains =) the dead—inherhands. Thatman was Monte im! Medea was pale, shuddering at the direful icture, but now she looked up, her lips faintly orming the words: “Then he cannot be all bad!” Will Rice laughed, shortly, hardly, ‘* Monte Jim is no fool, whatever else may be brought against him. He heard the growing threats of the passengers who had witnessed the affair—heard them talking about a long rope and a short shrift. I don’t say that this influ- enced his actions, for he’s no coward, But Ido know that he gave the blood-stained money to the widow, and then he and his gang jumped from the train and took their chances of break- ing their necks rather than remain on the cars, ‘This is only a single blot in the record he said I might show you, but from it you can readily imagine the rest. Weare nearing Bis- marck now, and I must leave you.” There was a perceptible tremor in his manly voice as he uttered these words, and his face _ was oy 4 averted as hie turned to pick up bis lantern. Only fora moment; then he bent to- ward her speaking de ge earnestly: ** Miss Pennington, trust you will not deem me too presumptive in speaking thus, but I can- not leave you without once more warning you to beware of that demon in the shape of man. Something tells me that he means mischief in thus seeking you out; raed syory he can meditate no good. Here is my card and address. If you ever feel the need of a friend who will go through fire and water to serve you, I beg of you to apply to me.” Medea took the proffered bit of pasteboard, worderingly. ‘**T do not understand!” she faltered. ‘ Pray speak plainer, if you know of any peril that threatens me.” ‘*T do not know, though I can but suspect; Monte Jim won that money of your cousin, and got safely off the train with it. Yet he re- turns and restores his plunder, making that an excuse for forcing his acquaintance on you, He has some evil scheme in his cunning brain, and acted thus generously in order to tae more readily gain the good opinion of your escort. You will hear from or see him again, but do not let his cunning arts blind your eyes to his real character. Good-by.” Will Rice cut his parting shorter than might have been the case had not the door of the coach just then opened to admit Alva Penning- ton, and not caring to have his warning over- heard by that worthy, the conductor turned hastily away, brushing past Pennington with- out noticing the ugly scowl with which the jealous young man regarded him, A few minutes later the end of the road was reached, and all was bustle and confusion as the weary passengers roused themselves to leave the coach. But when Medea and her escort, the latter LLL LLL LLL LL LLL LLL LLL LLL LLL LLL LL - ~~~ ee Monte Jim, the Black Sheep of Bismarck. Ee TT see ee ee loaded down with the bundles which invariably form a part of a woman’s possessions wher traveling, ars out of the coach, they were met by Will Rice, who gently assisted the young lady to alight, hurriedly whispering: ‘‘IT beg you to remember my warning, Miss Pennington. This is a frightfully rough and sag ah place for one so lovely, and you can- not be too careful whom you trust. If I can serve you in any way, pray command me. But first—for 1 forget you uiust regard me as a stranger—-assure yourself that 1 am an hone:t man, Almost any person in town can tell you whoand whatl am. Now—good:- by!” A warm pressure of her hand, and he has- tened away, And cs she gazed after him, Medea felt that sho had lost a tried and true friend. CHAPTER VIII. FIGHTING THE TIGER, THERE was a little trouble brewing within the classic precincts of tho ‘‘ Clipper Shades,” at that date one of the bright, particular stars in the sporting firmament of Bismarck, though probably none save the initiated could have recognized the speck of war which was gradu- ally developing itself into a threatening cloud that boded sudden death and destruction to one or more of those who then occupied the gam- blin+-hall. Curly Kaine, self-styled King of Bismarck was the nominal head of a “ luy-out,” thou h it was rumored among the knowing that Curly was only a ficure-head, acting under the and instructions of a certain black-browed beauty, whose character was rather more no- torious than saintly. But be that as it may, Curly Kaine ‘‘ run the machine” after his own fashion, and besides having the name of deal- ing a perfectly square game, maintained al- most perfect order while he stood at the helm of the Clipper. As he was fond of saying, he meant to have peace if he had to fight for it, and the roughs and hard cases were not long in finding out what that meant. A host in himself, Curly Kaine kept half a score fighting-men within call, whenever the tables were in play, and at a signal from the stalwart — er, they were ready for hot work without stopping to count the odds against them, This army was a profitable one, in a double sense. It saved the loss of time and destruc- tion of valuable fixtures by speedily quelling all rows, while being a sort of guarantee to the more respectable class that they would not be risking their lives while staking their gold on the turn of a card. From this very fact, the Clipper Shades be- came famous, and it was ‘‘ the correct thing” for all sight-seeing tours to wind up with a call on the “King of Bismarck.” There was little of the wild commotion, the loud talk, the reckless drinking, the fight-pro- voking swaggering of hcavily-armed bullies, so common in the gambling bells of border towns and mining-camps of the usual type. Save for the fact that every man present bore weapons, the great majority of them without the slight- est attempt at concealment, and a little less conventionality in dress, one might have fan- cied himself in some Eastern saloon of fortune. The space devoted to gambling was large, separated from the bar-room by a partition with an arched open space in the center, hung with heavy green curtains. The apartment contained two large tables, each of which supported a faro lay-out, one on each side of the room. Beyond these were two more tables of the same size, one devoted to a roulette-wheel, the other tored and black, At the rear of the apartment, and in a line run- ning down its center, were small, round-topped tables for the use of short card-nlayers. Above each of the four large te li s hung mas- sive chandeliers, filled with cil-ian ps, the light from which illumined the room without further aid, At one of the faro-tables Curly Kaine was seated, manipulating the polished silver box with a skill and grace peculiarly his own, and it was on his brow that the threatening speck of war first made itself visible. Seated directly before him were two young men with whom the reader has some little ac- quaintance—Alva Pennington and Frank Lisle. Forty-eight hours have elapsed since they reached Bismarck, but this is the first time either of them has set foot within the noted gaming house. Alva Pennington did not recog- nize the dealer until after placing his first wager on the cards. Then his first impulse was to las out, and seek some other chance for ratifying the gambling spirit which haunted Fim’ but Curly Kaine gave out the faintest sign of recognizing him, and the young man waited until the fate of his first venture should be decided. He lost, and there was no longer any question. He settled down to “ get even.” true-born gambler in his love for the cards, Alva Pennington would never become a shining light among the fraterni His blood was too hot, his temper too irritable, and the more he lost the more reckless became his playing. In addition to all this, he was what is known JOO G <€om ‘Si | ;