Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 472 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

ne ” eat j Pern pr ~*~ ee Re 10 undergrowth so dense, that he had not caught the slightest glimpse of him, ‘* Let me go!” he cried, striving to pass her. “* Tl fix the villain so that he'll never—” ‘Oh, no! no!” she insisted, detaining bim resolutely. ‘‘I will have no violence. It is really of no consequence.” - afi no consequence that you have been in- sulted? Tl kill him for—” ‘Listen! You do not understand. It was only that he thought to frighten me into giving him a Jittle money—” ‘**Money? He allowed to rob you?” ‘“*Oh, the merest trifle. You could hardly call it robbery.” ‘*Money!” repeated Moran, in astonishment. **Tt wasn’t; Dandy Dave, then?” “Mr. Blair?’ exclaimed Beth, with well- simulated surprise, though she knew well enough what had prompted Moran to that suspicion. “{ should say not! How absurd! What put that idea into your head?” ‘*'Waal, whoever he was— Who was it?” stammered Moran, in embarrassment. “It is of no consequence,” repeated Beth, *‘Let the matter drop. The man had been drinking, and meant no real harm. Of course, I was a little frightened at first, but it is all over now, and there is no use in causing further trouble.” ** An’ do you mean to say that you’ll pass by a matter o’ this kind?” cried Moran, in indig- nant surprise. “Oh, certainly, Mr. Sutter,” replied Beth, laughing, as if to show that she attached no further importance to it. ‘‘l know how vio- lent you gentlemen are, intending to be cbival- rous, to be sure. And I appreciate your kind- ness in aiming vo protect me. But I am sure that, yyrae, with one another, you would, among you, punish the poor fellow far more than the offense deserves, “*T haven’t the least fear that it will be re- peated, so [ will not tell you who it was, and I rely upon you not to mention to the others that anything of the kind has occurred.” still she stood quite close to Moran, speaking rapidly, and laughing a little hysterically. She was far from having the air of one perfectly at ease, but rather of one who was making a brave effort to calm a very decided state of nervous- ness, These contradictions bewildered Joe Moran, and the suspicions natural to his coarse nature were quick to return. What if she were deceiving him, and it was Dandy Dave, after all? But was it like Dave to run away? Being in for it, would he not rather have prepared to give the rescuer a hot reception? If, piqued at the rejection of some advance, he had offered the lady an affront, he could not know that she would shield him by silence, and, boss of the town though he might be, if such a story went to the boys, he would be run out of the camp in short order. A reason why, baving repulsed him, Beth should yet refrain from denouncing him, was not far to seek, She shrunk from being the occasion of blood- ed. That the matter was not so trifling as Beth would have him believe, was still further appa- rent, from the fact that her actions did not con- firm her professed freedoia from apprebension. It is not uncommon for people to become more nervous after a peril bas passed, and with it the necessity for self-control, and Beth now gave evidence of such a reaction. She wrung her hands and went through the motion of tossing her hair back off her temples, and betrayed other signs of disturbance, as she went on speaking rapidly and somewhat discon- nectedly. “Tt was very fortunate that you were just at hand, Mr. Sutter. I don’t know what [ should have done without you. If you will kindly see me as far as my door, I shall be greatly obliged. But, there! I’m making you anxious again, ain’t I? Eempoee Wwe say no more about it. ** And I had been having such a delightful time ever since I came to the camp!” The last was said with a regretful cadence, as if, in spite of herself, she betrayed the feeling that her old sense of security was now gone, “Yow il excuse me, Miss Falmouth,” said Moran, earnestly, “ef I'm free to say that I don’t jest like this hyar. Of course, what you say is law an’ gospel, but I’m in fur treatin’ yon a— Joe stumbled over the word “‘ galoot.” It did not seem just the word to use to a lady, but on the spur of the moment he could think of no other, so he concluded lamely: ‘** He’d orter have a coat o’ tar an’ feathers, at the least calculation.” ‘But you will promise me not to pursue the a any further, and to say nothing to any one ; “T sha’n’t feel easy about your goin’ around alone. Ill have to keep on the lookout that no harm don’t come to ye. **Oh, no indeed! I can’t ask you, or even allow you, to put yourself to any such trouble on my account,” cried Miss Falmouth, with charming confusion. —_—— i sSssssSsssssSSicsSssS393$93$ssia.sg‘|g;.;. aa ‘i§‘§‘g§g§ ge Six-Foot Si. She did not blush, but in everything else her acting was perfect. Joe Moran’s beart gavea great bound. From the look she shot into his eyes, he felt that he had made more progress toward a different footing by that little speech than by all else. He lost no time in striking again while the iron was hot, and seeking to deepen the im- pression by a corresponding avowal as to the past. pe This hyar ain’t the most fitten place in the world fur a lady,” he pursued, ‘an’, ef you will overlook the liberty, ve made bold to keep an eye on you ever since you come to the camp, an’ took to wanderin’ around by yerself.” Then, in a thoroughly young-lady-like way, she ejaculated: ‘* Oh, Mr. Sutter!” And it was apparent to Joe that there was no serious displeasure in her deprecation of the liberty he had taken. “The boys is all right fur the most part,” he pursued, ‘‘ an’ they’d fight fur ye at the drop o’ the hat, but thar ain’t no tellin’ when one of ’Yem may git the dev— Beggin’ yer pardon! But when they’re drunk, they’re oncertain.” **Oh, but you don’t know how well able I am to, take care of myself,” insisted the lady. ‘Do you go armed?” asked Joe, ‘** Armed! Oh, merey,no! What should I do with a revolver? Just think—I never fired a pistol in my life.” ‘You shouldn’t orter go unarmed in this country, man cr woman. If you could shoot, you'd be as safe as anybody.” ‘** But I think I should be more afraid of the weapon—especially in my own hands—than of any man I ever saw,” laughed Beth. “You could easy ’arn to use ’em. I wish you'd let me l’arn ye,” ventured Joe, inwardly quailing at his temerity. ‘Oh, would you?—could you, without too much trouble?” cried Miss Falmouth, with such a burst of sunny delight that she fairly took his breath away. ** Td give all my old boots an’ shoes fur the chance!” declared Joe, with a promptitude and warmth that warned Beth that he would make no backward lover when the ice of deference was once fairly broken. ** Let me try now,” she petitioned, looking to- ward the weapons he carried strapped upon either hip. ‘This is a mite heavy fur a lady,” he said, drawing one of the revolvers from its holster. ** You kin git °em any size ye like.” ** Ob, I’m stronger than you think,” was Beth's assurance, as she reached out for the weapon. He gave it to her, and with a little cry of sur- prise and dismay, she threw forward the other hand and caught it, as it sagged down in her grasp much as if he had passed to her a bag of shot, ‘*Tt is heavy, isn’t it?’ she admitted, with a pleased laugh. ‘‘ But, see!—I can hold it this way, with both hands,” “That won't do,” objected Moran., “A man don’t want a revolver often, but wben he does, he wants it mighty bad, an’ then everythin’ de- nds on his handlin’ it as if it grew to him. ou don’t have no time to think, or to git ready. Ef you can’t cut loosea shot as easy an’ as quick as you’d throw up zee hand to ward off a blow it ain’t no good. The other feller’s got ye, an? you’ve passed out,” ‘*But I could never learn to handle a great clumsy thing like this in that way.” In spite of her protest, she gripped the weapon firmly in one hand, and raised it to a level at arm’s-length. Moran was surprised at the steadiness with which she sustained it. She was much stronger than he had supposed. “You might not with this,” he replied, ** though you do pan out better’n ary woman [ ever see before, But with one more to yer hand, you’d be surprised at how it would git thar when ye once got the slight.” * Beth recovered the weapon and held it again in both hands, while, with a woman’s lax inter- est in abstract ‘‘ moralizing,” and impatience to come to the point at once, she asked: ** But how do. you fire it? I pulled this little thing under here as hard as I could, but it didn’t off, **'‘You’d better know a mite about it before th age off,” suggested Joe, with an indulgent smile. Drawing his other revolver, he proceeded to explain to her the various parts and their uses, ‘*Hyar air the cartridges in this hyar cylin- der. You see it turns the space o’ one chamber every time the hammer raises an’ falls.” ‘* Yes.” interposed Beth, vivaciously, having watched the process thus far about as attentive- ly as a young lady sears does, ‘‘ but where’s the ram-rod? How do you load it?) And I don’t see any caps. I thought a pistol had to have se just like a shot-gun? oran explained to her the improvements in modern firearms, which inclu even shot- s, but long before he had the case to satisfaction, she inter - “*T guess Pl let you dot ading, so we won’t bother about that. But, as you say, the main thing is to know how to ‘ cut itloose,’ I’m . < sy Ss o\ € a et “ —_——_——_— aaa EE afraid I don’t like your new-fangled notions. Give me a good old-fashioned shot-gun! Some- body holds it up for you, or you lay it across the top of the garden-wall, and then all you’ve got toda js to get your finger fixed all right on this littlé thing here, then shut your eyes and give a quick pull and, bang / before you have a chance to scream, it’s all over with.” ‘* But you have to cock even a shot-gun be- fore you kin fire it off,” urged Moran, proceed- ing to explain the relations of hammer and trigger. ‘Oh, is that so?” asked Beth, with a charm- ing ignorance. ‘* Well, I never did that part. I had all I could attend to cutting it loose.” And looking into his eyes, she laughed brightly. Joe Moran had never been the object of such coquetry as this, The women he had flirted with had tossed their heads in affected pique, or boxed his ears, or given him a sharp retort; but sprightly wit without rudeness was some- thing quite new in his experience, He flushed under the girl’s dancing eye, and could find no suitable reply. She left him no time to rummage about for lost wits. As he had said about pistol-firing, the thing must be done at once, or the occasion would be past. ‘* Which eye do you shut?” was her next de- mand, as, seeming not to notice his embarrass- ment, she threw up her weapon, closing first one eye and then the other, ‘‘Neither,” replied Moran, ‘Sunless you’re a fashion-plate sharp in a shootin’-gallery. You don’t sight over a beled only at a long range, or when you’ve got the hull day before ye, which the same ye don’t o!ten have in this country. When a man calls you fur all you’re worth, you don’t stop fur no pretty business.” ‘But you have to take aim!” cried Beth, arching her eyebrows as if any other supposition were quite too unreasonable to be for a moment entertained. ‘* Do you?” retorted Moran. ‘‘ Waal, I'll show you a trick worth two of that. Hold that shootin’-iron in yer left hand, ef you please. Now, then, do you see that pine cone, layin’ in a leetle holler in that rock yonder?” “ce 4 “Waal, point at it with the finger of yer right hand, so.” ‘“That’s a good way to show somebody else what to shoot at,” observed Beth, laughingly, ‘but it strikes me as a queer way to begin to do the shooting yourself.” Nevertheless she complied, throwing up her hand carelessly, and pointing a slender, taper- ing finger at the mark indicated. ‘ We'll see about that before we git through,”’ returned Moran. ‘‘ Now keep yer hand perfectly still, shut yer left eye, and cant yer head over to the right— like this—until ye kin look straight along the top o’ yer finger.” ‘‘ Veanwhile, if that were a man over there, on man-slaughter—or, rather, woman-slaughter —intent, wouldn’t he be blowing the top of my head off while lL was amusing myself pointing my finger at bim?” laughed Beth, while doing as she was bid. ‘‘You’re doin’ yer pointin’ now,” returned Moran, ‘‘so when the man’s to the fore, yer shuotin’-iron will point itself, ** Howsomever, ye see that youre pointin’ straight at the cone.” “Why, certainly!” cried Beth. ‘Don’t you suppose I can point at anything when I want to?” “But you didn’t stop to sight over yer finger.” Of course not. This is not the first time I have ever pointed at anything.” “Try yer left hand, an’ see how that pans out.” Beth did as he bade her. ‘You see that ain’t quite such a dead-sure thing,” remarked Moran. That's because [’m not left-handed,” was Beth’s explanation, ‘‘ Exactly,” admitted her companion, ‘“ An’ that’s what’s the matter with everybody when they first begin to shoot a pistol. It’s like usin’ yer left hand. You don’t know how. Now, you’ve got to handle a pistol till it’s like the finger o’ yer right hand. You look at what ye want to hit, with both eves, an’ef it’s a man what knows how to handle himself, you keep them eyes pean | wide open, too! en you point at him, an’ blaze away.” ‘* Well,” said Beth, slowly, as she began to ap- preciate the force of Moran’s argument, “ there seems to be more in that than I was looking for.” ‘‘Thar’s millions in it!” observed Moran, sen- tentiously. : : Then he proceeded te illustrate his method. ‘See hyar,” he said. ‘Suppose that was the. heart o’ that thar scoundrel what you won't let me git a crack at. One! two! three!” And as he spoke, he threw up his hand and fired all in one motion. tedness of the shot, Starting at the uhe é Beth recovered herself barely in time to see a few flying fragments, as the cone vanished, al- most as by magic. \ m a choo a (GO)