Beadle's Dime Library No. 490: 'The Lone Hand in Texas' — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

= ean’t I get in tot bite & 16 cr 2 at - 4 : A= _ _ = ; , i 7 ‘ . > ’ . © zi Sid »** 4 3 ; as ‘ or . The Lone Hand in Toes. ‘‘T had an idea that this gentleman was on the right track,” Moreno observed, ‘‘ because I have not heard of any other band operating in this neighborhood besides the Red Glove Raiders of the Rio Grande as they call them- selves,” “ That is it!” the big fellow exclaimed, ‘ that is ther handle, and they let on that they consider they owned all this country along the Rio Grande hyer, and intended to collect toll from every galoot w’ot dared to travel over it.” 66 Waal, we have zot one cuss hyer that I reckon won't ‘collect much toll arter we git through with him!” the marshal remarked, | grimly. ** Oh, jest you sock it tohim! Put it to him all you know how!” the Englishman exclaimed. *¢ Jest consider, gentle bovs,a hundred good, solid chucks and a mule, worth a hundred more | of any man’s money. I tell yer it is enough to rile a man clean down to his gizzard!” By this time the calaboose was reached. The jailer was summoned, and the errand of the stranger made known to him. *T reckon he is barking up the right tree,” Slab Kellogg remarked. ‘‘ This cuss is a bad egg all the way through; but come in, gents, and take a look at the critter.” The three entered the jail. In the upper half of the door which led into the inner apartment there was a small window about a foot square, guarded by strong bars, and arranged so it - could be closed with a sliding shutter. Kellogg shoved back the shutter so that the | window was exposed, and through it he called into the cell. ** Rouse up thar, you durned copper-colored, no-account galoot!” the jailer exclaimed. ‘* Come to the windy hyer, and give this hyer man a chance to see what you look like!” *“Go to biazes!” retorted the half-breed, in sullen resentment. *What’s tbat?’ cried the jailer, in a rage. ** Don’t dare to put on any frills, or I’ll come in thar and kick the stuffin’ outen you! * You jest h’ist up to this yerea windy as quick as the Lord will let yer! Hyer’s a man - wants to have a squint at you—he’s got a leetle business with you ’bout a hundred ducats and a mule,” ‘*Don't know nuffin’ bout no mule!” the pris- oner declared. ‘“*T reckon you are lying, and you know it, tuo!” the big fellow declared. ‘‘ You don’t dare to come to the window and let me see if you ain’t the galoot what skinned me of my wealth and took my mule,” ‘**T never saw you before,” replied the balf- breed, ‘‘and Lain’t afeard to let you look at mie, And as he spoke he rose slowly from his re- cumbent position, and coming to the dcor peered through the grated window. “That is the very identical, durned copper- colored galoot!” the big fellow cried, the moment he caught sight of the half-breed. ‘‘ I could sw’ar to him ona stack of Bibles as big as a house! He bad a mask over his face, but it only kivered one-half of it, and I could sw’ar to this galoot without ary bit of trouble! I say, boys, when are they going to hang this cuss?” “T reckon you are in a durned hurry now,” the marshal remarked. ‘* This feller ain’t tried yet. ‘“*No use for to try him!” the stranger de- eclared. ‘* Any one could see that he was guilty by the cut of his jib. ‘* Say, let’s get up a necktie-party and call upon Judge Lynch to string him up.” **Oh, no; we will let the law deal with him,” Jackman rejoined. ** Wouldn’t I like to make one of the lynch- party to put this galoot through a course of sprouts!” the big fellow exclaimed. ‘‘ Jest rouse him up in the middle of the night, take bim out and put a rope round his neck, and then, jest as we run bim up to the tree, he would be begging and praying for his gang to come for to git him out of the scrape; but his gang wouldn’t be near, you know, ’cos they wouldn’t know that there was any little surprise-party of the kind. That would be fun, you bet! And how quick the cusses would come, though, if they knew that this red imp was out of the jail, and that one bold dash would be apt to help him out of the scrape!” ** You will never see me hanged, you big liar!” retorted the half-breed, defiantly, and with a peculiar light shining in his eyes. ** f have seen better men than you dance upon nothing!” the Englishman exclaimed. “ Say, fellow so as to pound him a ** Oh, no, that is ag’in’ the rules,” ** Wa-al, I will come and see you hung, any- way.” ce Go to blazes!” the half-breed retorted, re- treating from the window and again resuming his recumbent pemenn on the buffalo-robes. **T would like to whale him!” the big fellow _ femarked, as he quitted the prison in company with the marshal and Moreno, **Oh, you couldn’t do that, you know,” the _ marshal said. ‘‘ But don't you worry, stranger, a eas nn gb - . 2 - és i | | this copper-colored rooster will have a hard road to travel before he gits through.” The marshal had a great desire to give the man a hint in regard to the lynching scheme, but feared to trust such a secret to him. ‘* Gents, you must come in and have a drink with me,” the man said when they approached the hotel. Few men in Texas refuse such an invitation. | CHAPTER XX. THE STRANGER BECOMES QUARRELSOME, Tur three walked into the bar-room of the hotel; the landlord was behind the counter serv- ing a couple of customers, and the Lone Hand was reading a newspaper, seated by one of the windows, sport of the town, Doc Mortimer, and the other was a rancher from down the Rio Grande, Col- onel John Bellingham, a gentleman of a decided- _ly sportive turn of mind, and who never came to town without dropping into Doc Mortimer’s place and risking some of his loose change in an attempt to cut the claws of the tiger. On the present occasion he had managed to come out ahead—he never played but a couple of hours, whether he won or lost, being an odd, methodical genius—and he had insisted upon Doe coming over to the hotel and taking a drink with him to celebrate his victory. The Lone Hand, being in the corner, had not ' been noticed by the colonel until after the liquor was dispatched, and the rancher was just ex- | pressing his regret to Doc Mortimer that he had | not noticed the stranger when the others entered | the apartment. | The Birmingham Infant marched up to the bar and brought his big fist dowa upon the counter with a whack which made the glasses jingle. | ‘This hyer is my ‘shout!’” he exclaimed, ‘and I want all you gents to have something with me! [I’m a man w’ot has seen a deal of life! I have been all around the world. I was in Californy and made my stake in the mines. I have fought the blacks in the Australian busb, and eaten roast hams with the cannibals down in the South Seas. I’m an old rounder and you kin bet high on it! ** Blue ruin is my tipple, landlord, and put it out lively. W’ot’ll you have, gents?” All chose whisky, and the landlord, not un- derstanding the English slang, pushed the bottle toward the Briton. ** No, no, blue ruin I said, and that means gin whar | was raised.” The bottle was produced, and then the big fel- low happened to catch sight of the Lone Hand, deeply engaged in his newspaper, and apparent- ly paying no attention to what was going on at the bar. ‘“* Hello, stranger—you feller with the news- paper—come up and take something.” “Thank you, I shall be pleased,’ and the Arkansian laid aside his paper and advanced to the bar. ° The Birmingham Infant surveyed him with considerable curiosity as he rose, displaying his muscular proportions. ‘*You are a pretty tolerable sizable chunk of a man,” the Englishman remarked, in a rather ugly way, and the Lone Hand noticed the peculiar tone at once. He had promptly accepted the invitation to drink, because down in this wild Southwest re- gion it is considered discourteous to refuse, and the Arkansian understood this well enough, al- though from the manner in which the man en- tered he had got the idea that he was a local bully who would be apt to quarrel with any stranger upon slight provocation. Now the Lone Hand, although he never hesi- tated to give a lesson to any man of this kind when he found that the fellow was determined to have it, yet he always avoided an encounter of this sort when it was possible. So, on the present occasion, he merely smiled, as tbough he considered the remark to be a mere pleasantry, and said: ** Give me a little whisky.” ‘* Better take gin—it is a heap sight better than whisky,” the Birmingham Infant exclaim- ed, a little roughly. ‘Every man to his taste; I don’t care for gin,” the Lone Hand replied. **Do you mean to say that gin ain’t better than your miserable whisky?” exclaimed the big fellow, angri ‘S : The rest looked at tho man in astonishment, for it was plain now that he intended to pick a quarrel with the other. ‘* See here, don’t talk that way to me, or there will be trouble,” the Lone Hand exclaimed, y: It was his idea always in such cases as this, to take the bull promptly by the horns, If the man wanted to quarrel he was prepared to meet him more than half-way. ** Trouble!” howled the big fellow, quickly working himself up intoa fit of passion, ‘* Wa-ul now, you kin bet all you are worth that there will be trouble if you don’t swaller yer gin right lively. Ye’r’ a big enough galoot, but if you don’t do w’ot I say, I will whale you right out of your boots.” et er ST Le One of the men at the bar was the principal | —> “2 | **Oh, no, you are not man enough to do that,” the Lone Hand exclaimed. “ Hold on, gentlemen, hold on!” exclaimed the landlord, anxious to prevent the fight from com- ing off in his place, for past experience had taught kim that in such affrays his goods and chattels were apt to suffer, ‘*T really must protest against any trouble taking place here. If you two gentlemen want to settle this matter, why not adjourn to some quiet corral where you will have plenty ot room and nc danger of any interference, ‘‘ As itis here, as soon as you begin, you will have the whole town in, and then there will be the deuce to pay.” ‘*' Yes, there’s a corral right back of the house,” Moreno suggested, ‘* We can go by the back way and so not attract any attention, ‘That will suit me,” the big fellow exclaimed. *€T reckon I kin kill you anywhar!” ‘¢T reckon you cain’t!’ the Lone Hand replied, “Say, you chap, jest show us the way!” the Englishman exclaimed to Moreno, “and if I don’t make a holy show of this fellow inside of five minutes then I ain’t the man [ think f am.” ‘‘T do not believe you are: but after the fight Me can get introduced to yourself,” the Lone and observed, dryly. And then they all proceeded to the corral at the back of the hotel. The corral was a fenced-in yard some fifty feet square with a long shed at one end; the fence was a high one, made of rough slabs, and when the party were within the inelosure, with the gates closed, they were secure from obser- vation, The Lone Hand had little fear of the result of this encounter, for although he suspected from the fellow’s talk that he was an English bruiser, yet the chances were a bundred to one that he was not a regular professional boxer, and if he was, be was entirely out of condition, being as fat as a hog, and his bloated face and projecting stomach betrayed that he had been indulging to excess fora long time in strong drinks, and no man can do this and be in a con- dition for a contest, which, more than any other practiced by humans calls into place every mus- cle of tbe body—makes great demand upon the wind, and, all in all, requires a man to bein the best physical condition, and this the Lone Hand was. He was all bone and muscle; hardly an ounce of superfluous flesh upon bim, and ecouid not have been in any better condition for a contest of this kind if he had trained for itin true pugil- istic style. ** Now, then, my Jack-a-dandy, jest strip off your harness and Jet me tan yer bide fer you!” the big fellow exclaimed in a boastful wih as he began to prepare for the contest by pulling off his pea-jacket. ‘* Tf you should happen to get the worst of the fight it would be apt to make you feel sick after all this boasting,” the Lone Hand re- marked, as he stripped off his blanket coat and began to roll up his shirt-sleeves, And now that the antagonists were about ready to face each other, the spectators made a discovery which was a surprise to thei. With his bulky pea-jacket on the stranger ap- peared to be an ‘uncommonly eee but now that the garment was removed he looked very much smaller, while bis opponent, on the con- trary, appeared to be almost as big without his coat as with if, One man was clumsily built, so that he looked to be bigger than he was, while the other was so well-proportioned that his real size was con- cealed. ‘*Say, I reckon this galoot has bit off more than he will be able to chaw,” the marshal whispered in the ear of Moreno, as the removal of the coats revealed the true proportlons of the two, ‘This Mr. Hand strips amazingly large,” Moreno remarked, ‘'I never supposed he was g. ‘*Oh, he isa big fellow, and no mistake!” the marshal exclaimed in admiration, ‘ Jest look at them arms. Whew! ain’t they pile-drivers? And see the breadth of his shoulder. Say, do you know, I believe he will weight forty or fifty | pounds more than the other man, for heisa gnod two inches taller und more compactly | built in every way, and look at the length of hisarms! Durn me if I. don’t believe they are six inches longer than the other fellow’s!” . “Yes, but I guess the other man is a practiced boxer and that will make a big difference, you know,” Moreno replied. “Mebbe he is,” the marshal observed, and there was considerable doubt jin his tone, “I don’t know as I kin be reckoned a judge when it comes to these regular boxer chaps. I di member ever seeing any of the tribe, but I bave seen a good many tussles ’tween ordinary me , and I must say this Mister Hand squar’s h 'as if he knew what kind of job he was tackling, ree the other galootis as clumsy as an ele- , phant. | This was the truth as Moreno could plainly | see and he could not help admitting as much, | ‘‘He seems to be lighter on his feet, but I nm doubt if he can strike as powerful a blow as the ay, es — : » bog a al _— es a com (e] oYeye oe a : ; | er Ee a ee 4