Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 472 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

it would have been difficult to place him ina situation in which he would be wholly at a loss. “tll be lucky fur him ef he’s got a thick skull,” he mused, as he picked up a stone for this occasion. ‘‘I won’t lay him out for keeps ef I kin helpit, but they’re crowdin’ of me so that I'll have to take some chances,” He threw his missile, striking his man fairly in the back of the head. He then stepped into view with a leveled re- volver, and answered Ted’s assurance, that if his companion would keep a stiff upper lip, they would be bonanza kings yet. *Not jest yit, my Christian friend! This hyar’s the joker what ye didn’t count in yer deck.” ‘‘ Who be you, an’ what ’re ye after?” de- manded Ted, in dismay. ‘‘Hands up!” commanded Si, “ an’ we'll talk that over more at our ease.” 1 There was nothing for it but compliance. In the West, a man knows when he’s down. Ted lifted his arms above his head. Six-foot Si stepped forward, and deftly dis- armed him, after which he stooped and relieved the unconscious Lal similarly. ‘‘Now, then, who be you, an’ what do you want of us?’ asked Ted, again. *“‘Tt’s lucky,” said Si, waiving this question, ‘that Pve got a rope by me, what I bought so’s a friend o’ mine an’ me could talk without fall- ing out over it.” And he unwound from his waist a rope which he had provided against his next interview with Jimmy Kinney. ‘*T reckon,” he went on, ‘“‘as this hyar’ll make us behave like the best o’ friends, It'll keep you from furgittin’ your manners, an’ | never quarrel with nobody.” ‘But what right have you to hitch on to me an’ my pard the like o’ this?” “You must be a tenderfoot, though you don’t have the look of it. When a man’s been in this hyar country a spell, he Varns that thar ain’t but one measure of a man’s rights out byar, which the same is gall an’ sand; an’ them two is so much alike that you can’t tell t’other from which until you’ve had a sight o’ practice.” | * Waal, ef you'll leave it to me, I should say ~~ on’ve had a mighty sight 0’ practice with oth! ) ‘*Yowre right thar, pard. I’ve kad dealin’s with many a hard citizen before I seen you.” And from the cool way in which Si proceeded to tie his prisoner up while talking to him, this could readily be believed. ‘Ef itll suit you any better to put it anoth- er way,” was Ted’s next essay to come to an un- derstanding, ‘‘ what call have you to jump my pard an’ me?” ‘*The usual call,” replled Si. ‘‘ I’ve ketched you up to rascality, an’ ’'m death on sich.” ‘*“'You want to do it all yerself!” said Ted, snappishly. ** Like as not,” was the undisturbed rejoinder. And, stooping, Si proceeded to examine the man he had knocked senseless. Lal’s head proved to be of the desired thick- ness, and he was soon “ kicking ” to quite as little pu as Ted had done, Six-foot Si remorselessly marched them off to his cave, and imprisoned them as he had Jimmy Kenney. “Tl have a reg’lar ’sylum hyar, ef this keeps on much longer,” he reflected. ‘It’s lucky I’ve got room enough fur Hank Budlong’s hull band, if necessary.” It was some consolation to Jimmy Kenney to know that henceforth he was to have companions in his misery, but he was not allowed to see them, nor was he told who they were. They in turn were told nothing about Jimmy. Si left them to find out if they could. Having made all secure, be set out at once for Bloody Run. When he had been gone some time, Jimmy Kenney made an effort to learn who his fellow- prisoners were. Putting his mouth to an opening between the rocks that shut him in, he cried: sal: say, pard, who be you, anyway?” But the echoing cavern muffled his voice so that its articulations were indistingnishable. Ted heard the voice, and called out in re- turn: ** Who’s hyar?” This reached Jimmy’s ears so smothered that he could not even recognize the voice, though Ted was well known to him. Raising his voice, he made another attempt, _ shouting: ae H Oo ea The intonation made this intelligible, and the response came: “ Hallo yerself!” After many attempts to establish intercommu- nication, it was at last found that this was the only thing that could be exchanged intelligibly. The cavern swallowed up all articulations. So, from time to time as the hours dragged along, these prisoners broke the dead silence and relieved somewhat the horrible loneliness of their entombment in the bowels of the earth, by Six-Foot Si. —___—— CHAPTER VII. A LADY IN THE CAMP. JOE MoRAn’s entrance into the privileges of citizenship at Bloody Run was noteworthy in one respect, Having invited the whole camp up to the bar at his expense, he addressed them in this wise: ‘*Gents, [ve hyeared tell o’ this hyar camp, an’ what I’ve byeard tell has led me to allow as this byar is about the place [I’m lookin’ fur. That’s what brung me hyar, an’ ef she pans out anythin’ like what they let on fur fifty or a hun- dred miles around, I reckon [ll chip in along o’ you fellers, an’ leave you to freeze me out when vou make up yer minds as you’re a-losin’ money along o’ my bein’ hyar. ‘Waal, that jest depends,” said Dandy Dave, speaking for the camp, as was his wont. ‘‘ What mought you have hyeared tell of we-uns?” “They do say asa galoot don’t have to show up no certificate o’ character when he lows to hang up hyar.” “Bo fur, so good. Drive ahead. Thar’s many another camp in the same fix.” ‘* Ef so be he fetches a sheriff’s posse at his heels—” ** He’s jest the man we want to see!” inter- rupted Dandy Dave, tay & ‘“An’ef it’s only Judge Lynch, an’a leetle army from a neighborin’ camp—” So much the better. He must ’a’ been up to somethin’ spicy, an’ it’s live men as we're want- in’,” ‘* That’s what I hyeared,” pursued Joe. ‘ An’ as how the sheriff what come in hyar was like to learn a thing or two before he got out ag’in.” “You bet! The same man never comes twice!” ‘** An’ Judge Lynch’s army—” ‘* They camps on the outside, or they gits took in an’ done fur.” ‘**'Waal, gents, I’ve been a-havin’ of a purty rackety time fur a few days past, as you’re like to learn before Jong, an’ I’m allowin’ to run to cover, so’s I kin sleep nights without feelin’ as if my skin was goin’ to be made into a strainer be- fore mornin’. An’ that’s what’s the matter with me!” : At once his auditors were devoured with eager curiosity. ** An’ who mought you be, boss?” cried one, breaking through his proper subordination to Dandy Dave. ‘‘ Waal, (m— You may call me Sam Sutter, ef it’s all the same to you, though you're like to suspicion somethin’ different before you’re many days older. The which I ‘low you'll know how to hold yer tongues when you do drop to me,” Nothing could have pleased the crowd better than this sort of a ‘‘ starter.” Joe Moran was pressed upon from all sides, with assurances of backing “till the last dog was hung.” ‘“‘Pardner,” said Old-man Crocker, gripping his left hand while Dandy Dave held his right, ** we don’t want nothin’ better’n the certificate o’ character what you’ve brung along. Ef you've got enemies, you’ve got friends what'll stick to ye a heap sight clos’ter. Jest give the word, an’ we'll plant ary thing what da’st to show up ag’in’ ye.” ‘‘ We're all in purty much the same fix our- selves,” added Dandy Dave. “The men as qualifies fur Bloody Run ain’t noways squeam- ish, an’ don’t you furgit it!” In two or three days his real name and history began to be whispered about, though no one presumes to call him anything but Sam Sutter. While his character rested entirely upon his hints, he had been treated much as a guest might be, who, on presenting himself, claims to have been robbed of his credentials. But when the story of Bob Cady’s death, and of the lively ‘““doin’s” at Coyote and Mulligan’s Bend, in which Joe Moran had been so prominent an actor, reached the Kun, the sudden increase of cordiality showed this double-dyed murderer and traitor how ‘‘solid” his infamous exploits made him in this nest of cut-throats. Everybody insisted on treating him, and the fawning adulation of the small fry was enough to glut the vanity of a far more susceptible man. Moran found himself suddenly next in in- fluence to Old-man Crocker, who was not far from dividing the empire with Dandy Dave. Dave beat him in nothing but “style.” The boys liked the princely ‘‘ swing” of their leader. ' So Moran felt safe from any assault of his enemies in force. What he had to guard against was the knife or the bullet of the skulking as- sassin. He had in his possession the secret hoard of himself and his partner, the whole of which he had appropriated after poor Bob’s death, and also some money of which he had robbed a coach, with the assistance of the men with whom he had last broken faith, while waiting for an opportunity to secure the precious cryp- ram. With this he was making himself hail-fellow with the men of Bloody Run, the more surely to 7 We haveseen that the men of Bloody Run were struck with astonishment on seeing that a lady of Beth’s description was about to alight from the coach. This gave Joe Moran an opportunity to an- ticipate even Dandy Dave in extending to her the courtesy due her sex. As he stepped forward to open the coach door, she recognized him at a glance, and was so overcome by a deathly faintness, that it re- quired the exertion of all of her superb will force, to prevent herself from shrinking from him in horror and loathing, and sinking back upon the coach seat. But with a mighty effort she mastered herself ; she smiled in acknowledgment, und even rea the hand he extended to assist her to alight, he Bucking Burro offered accommodations scarcely suitable for a lady of her undoubted position, and when it became known—as it did very soon, through the amazed stage-driver— that she intended to make the camp a place of residence for an indefinite period, the boys had to put their heads together to devise ways and means for her entertainment. ‘“Waal, gents,” said Johnny o’ Jimson’s, ‘making no bones” about the expression of his opinion of the cump, ** you’ve got yourselves in a fix. What do you propose to do about it? Thar ain’t nothin’ snide about this bale o’ dry- goods, an’ don’t you furgit it! They hain’t got her beat in the States, [ tell you! Then whar air i goin’ to put her, hey?” ‘We ain’t sp’ilin’ fur no chin-music 0’ yours to see us through,” replied Dandy Dave. ‘* You bet yer bottom dollar she'll never drop to this camp, no more’n ef she was in a bon-ton street in Frisco,” “She won’t, eh?’ queried Johnny, with the et of aman who knew a thing or two him- self, ‘* No, she won’t, eh!” retorted Dandy Dave. ** Don’t you suppose we kin put on the French twist when we want to? Ef thar’s a galootin this byar camp what don’t git right down on his marrow-bones, an’ do his level purtiest when she’s in sight, [ll mop the ground with him till [wear him up to the sboulder- blades!” Johnny 0’ Jimson’s laughed at this extrava- gant threat. “That’s mighty fine talk,” he said, “ but ena do you ’low as I’ve been doin’ on the trip up ‘What have you been doin’?” demanded Dandy Dave, with a look of sudden apprehen- sion. ** ve been a-givin’ of you away—that’s what I’ve been doin’,” declared Johnny, boldly. ““The deuce you have!” cried Dave, with a frown that few men cared to provoke. “Oh, Pm open an’ above-board with ye,” said the stage-driver, quite unconcerned, ‘I don’t say nothin’ behind yer back what I ain’t as free to say to yer face. This hyar’s the dirtiest hole between the two slopes. Now, ain’t that so?” ‘* Waal, what ef it is? Have you been a-tellin’ of the lady that?” ** You bet yer bottom dollar!” “Waal, Pll sw’ar! Ef you hain’t got the cheek—” “Why, what do you take me fur? Do you ‘low as I'd drop the like of her in such a waller as this, all unbeknownst? Not ef the court knows herself! I’m a white man, I am!” ‘*“Waal, you’ve had your swing. Now, do you know what we’re goin’ fur todo, on our side?” ‘*T don’t care what you’re goin’ to do.” “We're goin’ to prove you the champion liar o’ this age an’ country—that’s what we're sot fur to do!” ‘* An’ how do you propose fur to do that?” ** We'll run this byar camp so’s when she away she’ll low as it’s the garden-spot o’ these hyar Rockies—” ' ‘*Ef you don’t strike out somethin’ in that thar line, she’ll have jest one sweet time hyar amongst ye.” ‘*Oh, we'll do it! An’ then we’ll let on tb her as thar’s a lot o’ galoots—the which we've got our suspicions as how they’ve age the stage- driver’s palm !—what ‘lows to kill the place, an’ the lies they tell would set an earthquake prophet up in business. How’s that?” ‘You can’t take the heart out o’ my bod that way, boss,” said Jobnny o’ Jimson’s, wit a vein of real feeling running through his voice believe the galoot has caved to her call!” ‘“T'll cave to ary woman what'll ‘leave mea show fur ‘lowin’ as the devil hain’t made a ten- strike in this hyar world,” declared Johnny o’ Jimson’s, manfully. ‘‘I done my level-best fur to preveat her from stoppin’ hyar—” ‘* Hold on, Johnny!” interrupted Dandy Dave, ‘‘ What did she say to that thar?” ** She ‘lowed the men o’ the West had the rep- utation o’ knowin’ a lady when they seen one, — an’ she’d resk it in Bloody Run,” ““ Hoho!” cried Dandy Dave, tauntingly. cS ! {<4 1 =f exchanging this hail. cat ; attach them to himself in case of an emergency, ‘* Did she say that?” queried Dandy Dave. vu . . A stranger entering and listening, might have | and Beth Crawford’s arrival found him playing ‘She did, so—an’ a darn sight purtier’n [kin | thought this a lunatic asylum! host at the Bucking Burro. put it.” aay hema a Ree SE le ler aa — ycomicbooks:com a