Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 472 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

a a es eee —o « ‘‘ Maybe you’low as he kin clean me out, too!” ‘*1’m a-leavin’ of my stakes on the board.” ‘* An’ I'm a-coverin’ of ’em!” Having placed his stake, he turned toward the stranger with a sullen glitter in his eyes, ‘* Ef you kin bolt Ole-man Crocker,” he said, in hoarse, guttural tones, “‘ you’re goin’ fur to git the chance. But thar ain’t no boy’s-play about me, luse weepons what air made fur men. And drawing his bowie, he jabbed it into the door-jamb, to be in readiness when he had strip- ped for the fight. His preparations consisted in removing his upper clothing, until he stood in his trowsers and boots, displaying a body the muscles of which swelled like bundles of whipcord. He laid aside his revolvers, but tightened about his waist the belt that carried them, and stood, a rugged Ajax. While he was making these preparations, Dandy Dave took the stranger to one side, as if to act as his second. But his purpose was quite different from what the crowd was led to suppose, as was proved by his words, spoken so low that no one but the man addressed heard. ‘‘ Stranger, whoever and whatever you be, it’s plaip—an’ Pm free to acknowledge the corn— that you kin git away with the best of us. You- *re goin’ fur to be cock-o’-the walk in this hyar camp, ef you care to claim what’s yer due, an’ you're let to fight yer way without no pistol- practice. Maybe you’d clean us out with the shootin’-irons, too, but I reckon you'd jest as lieve not carry the thing to that p’int ef it kin be helped.” ‘*T ain’t no butcher, an’ I don’t keer to be slaughtered,” interpolated the Teaser, plain- tively. ‘Thar ain’t no need o’ that,” was Dandy Dave’s assurance. ** Ain’t yan galoot a-gittin’ ready, now, fur to salt me down fur winter use?” ‘“No, he ain’t. This hyar’s a purty tough town, but we don’t all neg onto an’ chaw up a galoot who happens to bid fur elbow- room. Ef you've got the sand to ee yer way to the top, you go thar, an’ bave a fair show fur ter keep yer heart in yer body. Ef thar’s any slaugh- terin’ to be done, it’s afterwards, in a fair fight, fur cause. ‘*That ain’t sayin’ as Ole-man Crocker ain’t about as ornery as they make ’em, an’ ef he sees the thing goin’ ag’in’ him, I don’t go bail as he won’t kick over the traces, That’s your look- out. But that ain’t what the bill calls fur.” ‘* He’ll salt me!” whined the Teaser, ** Howsomever,” pursued Dandy Dave, not displaying any particular concern about the ‘Teaser’s ultimate fate, ‘‘ what I wanted to say is jest this: After you’ve finished him, itll be ny turn. The boys’ll look fur it, ye know. ‘* Waal, I’ve always allowed as [ was some on sparrin’, but 7 cave. I know a handy man when I see him, an’ you top ary thing as ve ever sot my two peepers on, an’ I ain’t no chicken. ** But, pard,.’ve run this hyar camp so long that it won’t be easy fur me to take a back seat, not even along of Ole-man Crocker, an’ I do *low as ('d druther step down an’ out with him jest ahead o’ me, than with ary other man I ever see. So it struck me as how maybe you hadn’t no particular call fur to put this hyar camp in yer breeches pocket, not’lowin’, maybe, to hang out hyar reg’lar, an’ as how you might be willin’ fur to let me off with enough p'ints fur to save my bacon, an’ keep my holt on ‘the boys. Ef so be ye could find it in yer to do this hyar, stranger, you won't have no call fur to regret standin’ in with Dandy Dave. Ill make you my right bower, an’ I'll agree to run this camp to the line you chalk down, only to let on to the boys as it’s me as is a-runnin’ of it,” This' was not an easy proposition to make. Dandy Dave alternately flushed and turned pale, as he forced himself to stammer through the words, If the stranger chose to *‘ give him away,” he would be covered with infamy—worse yet, for a man of his vanity—with ridicule. He would be forced to fight it out, with a prospect of bein killed, and with no chance of recovering his old position, even if he succeeded in killing his man. The Teaser stared at him with dropped jaw. “You kin knock me out easy, boss,” was all he answered. ‘I ain’t nothin’ at sparrin’ an’ sich. Never could git the hang of it.’ Dandy Dave found little comfort inthis, The Teaser had neither indicated acquiescence nor rejection, and before Dave could press for a de- termination of the matter one way or the other, Old-man Crocker “‘ called time” on them. ** Air you goin’ fur to stand thar all day?” ‘* Boss,” answered the Teaser, ‘‘ef so be you could find it in ye fur to let me off, I'll make tracks out 0’ this hyar camp—the which I never would ’a’ sot foot in it ef I had a-knowed what was waitin’ fur me hyar—an’ never show up no more.” “Not much!” demurred Old-man Crocker, strong in his faith in his own prowess, and think- ing that here was a goou chance to add to his terrible reputation. ‘‘ You toe the scratch fur | Six-Foot Si. 13 the fu’st blood, an’ ef you ain’t satisfied then, we'll fight to a finish.” ‘Tm a dead man!” groaned the Teaser, ‘Why, gents, I hain’t got nothin’ but this hyar ole toad-stabber!” And stooping, he drew from his boot-leg a bowie-knife with a blade not far from twelve inches in length. This he held up, and looked about as if appeal- ing to them to acknowledge that nothing cculd be expected from a man armed with so insignifi- cant a Weapon, ** Waal, [Pll swear,” declared one, while all stared open-mouthed, ‘I don’t want nothin’ worse’n that thar a-rootin’ around in my in- ’ards!” And this—with very good reason, one wovld think—was the general sentiment, CHAPTER XIII. THE TEASER ‘‘ DOWNED.” ** PEEL!” commanded Old-man Crocker, im- patient at the delay. ‘* Hf it’s all the same to you, I'll keep my duds on,” whimpered the Teaser. ‘‘I don’t want to git no clos’ter to that thar thing than I kin elp. ‘* Play yer own hand, only don’t keep us all day a-waitin’.” he Teaser bad but to roll up his sleeves, when he was ready. From the first he fought shy of Old-man Crocker’s gleaming bowie, retreating so that he kept the crowd in constant motion following him about. “Stand to the rack, you blasted coward!” roared Crocker. ‘‘Do you think I hain’t got nothin’ to do but to straddle around through seventeen counties after you?” ** 7 ain’t askin’ of ye fur to keep follerin’ me,” whined the Teaser. ‘‘I tell ye I'm skeered of e! And, as if to prove his words, as Old-man Crocker prodded at him, he leaped away with a startled yell. Crocker swore lustily, as he strove to come to close quarters, ever defeated by the agility of his retreating antagonist. The crowd began to chaff the Teaser. Only Dandy Dave remained silent. He observed what the others were too excited to think of—that Old-man Crocker did not suc- ceed in inflicting the slightest wound on the stranger, though the latter had been forced to parry some vicious thrusts, to escape. \ arena the Teaser backed up against a tree, as if by inadvertence. ‘That fixes him!” yelled one of Old-man Crocker’s friends. ‘‘ Now, jump him, Crocker!” The latter had received the same impression, and summoning all his powers to the effort, he leaped for his man. There was a blood-curdling gride, as steel rasped over steel, the keen edges of the bowies testing each other’s temper. Old-man Crocker’s rush was fairly checked, and he had failed to inflict any wound. **Curse you!” he gritted through his teeth, as he strained his wrist until the sinews stood out like whipcords, and bis forehead became purple. But the Teaser only replied: Don’t burt me, ‘*I’m skeered! I’m skeered! boss!—don’t hurt me!” And, as if in wild panic, he began to fight fu- riously, his knife slasbing the air in every direc- tion, like lightning. Suddenly Old-man Crocker leaped back, with an ejaculation of rage, ‘““Hah! You've cut me!” And this was true, for a red streak appeared across his forearm, from which the blood pres- ently dripped down to his fingers. ‘* Boss, | hope you will excuse me!” pleaded the stranger, standing as if terror-stricken by what he had done. _ “ First blood!” shouted Dandy Dave, snatch- ing off his hat, and flinging it into the air. ‘ Harrah fur the Teaser!” The spectators for the most part burst into wild cheers and yells of triumph, save that one of Old-man Crocker’s spaniels cried: “Foul! Foul!” But Old-man Crocker himself heard but one voice—that of his rival, Dandy Dave. It stung him to the quick, and aggravated his defeat a hundredfold. _ ‘First nothin’!” he shouted, as near as cus- tom will permit the rendering of the spirit rather than the exact form of his expression. And, with a snarl like that! of a baffled de- mon, he leaped back to the fray, this time with unmistakable deadly intent. This was what Dandy Dave had predicted. In vain he now shouted: ‘“Cheese it, Crocker! The Teaser has won fairly, an’ you hain’t no call fur to lay into him like that.” . Old-man Crocker paid not the slightest heed. It was man to man, and he knew that if he could ‘‘ get away with” the Teaser, he might do so with impunity. Receiving Old-man Crocker’s blade once more’ on his own, the Teaser executed a sudden com- bined sweeping and twisting cut, and wrenched his adversary’s weapon from his grasp. As it flew into the air, he presented the point of his bowie at the breast of the would-be mur- derer. One thrust, and he could have buried it to the hilt in the heart that meditated his death, Old-man Crocker threw up his hands, expect+ ing that that moment was his last of earth. He knew that his purpose had been read by every one there present, and it never entered his head to expect any clemency from the foe he had justly provoked to retaliation, But the Teaser lowered the point of his wea- pon, and coolly thrust it into his boot-leg. ‘* Gents,” he said, ‘‘I hadn’t orter be trusted with deadly weepons, an’ that’sa fact, I git skeered so easy, an’ when I do git skeered ?m reckless, an’ don’t know what I’m doin’, no- how.” ‘* Waal, Pll swear as it is dangerous fur you to have deadly weepons around,” said one of the crowd, significantly, while all the others gath- ered about to gaze on this man of might, and pay him homage. f he was going to be ‘“ cock-of-the-walk "— and it looked very much that way—it might be well to begin at once to curry favor with him. Old-man Crocker accepted bis defeat in sullen silence. After his overthrow it would not do to make any further attempt at the life of the man who had conquered him. The boys might overlook a blow in the sud- den burst of chagrin following upon defeat, but they wouldn’t stand cold-blooded malice. That they would call murder, and would requite by stringing him up to the nearest tree, But there was one consolation yet open to him, If he must knock under, it would be something to have Dandy Dave share in his discomfiture, and, remembering the terrific force of the wrench that had disarmed him, he suddenly came to the conclusion that the stranger, who had started at the bottom of the ladder, could mount the last round, and oust Dandy Dave, too, from his eminence, eae got bis chance when Dandy Dave said to m: ‘* ’m sorry to take yer money, ole man, but I allow as it was earnt as fair and squar’ as ary mill ever see.” ** It’s your turn next,” replied Crocker, ‘* an’ maybe you kin do better than I done.” ** Waal, as to that,” replied Dandy Dave, hid- ing his real anxiety under a mask of good-na- tured indifference, ‘‘I begin to "low as we got the wrong pig by the ear when we proposed to throw off on this stranger. I don’t know as I kin make it interestin’ fur him, but after he’s rested a mite, [don’t mind takin’ a lesson in sparrin’ from him, to see his style.” This wasa very clever way to hedge. If the Teaser did not accede to his proposal of a few minutes before, Dave at least paved the way to step down from his place as gracefully as might be, while, if he did help to throw dust in the boys’ eyes, a modest beginning would not de- tract from the luster of a seeming: victory over the man who had ‘*‘ downed” Old-man Crocker, The Teaser promptly answered, in his own pe- culiar way, the proposal that he should rest. | ‘* Ef it’s all the same to you, Id druther take lickin’ all at once.” he boys laughed epee rap at this sally, It is easy to laugh at the jokes of “‘the coming man! “Waal,” smiled Dandy Dave, ‘I ‘low as I sha’n’t thrash you any to speak of, but I promise to give you the best I’ve got.” e stripped, as Old-man Crocker had, but the Teaser said: ‘** Bein’s as I ain’t nothin’ at sparrin’, it wont pay to make a fuss gittin’ ready.” And, as before, he retained his clothes. Dandy Dave was prouder of nothing than of his appearance stripped to the waist for the ‘* fistic arena,” as sporting papers grandilo- quently phrase it.. And indeed he had reason to expect the admiration of any one who could ap- preciate magnificent physical development. Old-man Crocker was of powerful build; Dandy Dave was of elegant build. His skin was as smooth and white, and apparently as bard, as ivory. The muscles loo as if they might have been chiseled by some old Greek master, who bad learned his art at the Olympic games, When he took his position, every line was a curve of graceful strength. The Teaser posed awkwardly—so awkwardly. indeed, that Dandy Dave experienced a thrill of renewed hope. What if he should really be deficient in “ the manly art?’ Of course Dave would rather make one honest point against him than to have him yield a dozen. “‘Tt is understood,” said Dave, ‘‘that this ain’t no sluggin’ mill. It’s fur points.” ‘‘Ef that’s easier than t’other,” replied the Teaser, ‘it suits me better. My ole ribs won’t stand much thumpin’, an’ [ hain’t got no beauty to spare, ‘ ** But how air we to tell who's the best man?* objected Old-man. ‘Thar must be at least one knock-down at the finish.” He did not propose to let Dandy Dave off Weg the humiliation of a complete over- row. ** Waal,” said Dave, ‘‘ we'll go fur the points first, au’ then we'll see whose est on m ‘ pins. nicbooks: Go (C (CO < — ~~ o > ee = 4 = “ ee A. 2 “og B ~