Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 533 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

10 stretching almost across the nook that would you, he, he! All cats be gray in ther dark otherwise have been left, The top of the table was covered with green cloth, on which yellow tape marked certain divisions. he table was standing there empty and un- used when Oregon entered, but now, as he Jooked up over bis tumbler be saw that a man had taken a seat behind it. There was nothing particularly notable about this man save that he was a Mexican. Perhaps his eyes were blacker than usual, and his hair a trifle longer, but his face was no more villain- ous looking than the average run of the coun- tenances that gathered around, In bis hand he held a pack of cards, and he had already placed on the board several buck- skin bags and a small pair of scales, ‘* The tiger with two tails,” soliloquized Ore- gon, as he saw the preparations, ‘**T haven’t bucked the game since I gave the an’ yer grabbed what yer found. You hear 7em laugh when they seen who yer got? Laugh | goes, he, he!” | Somewhat puzzled was Oregon, as he turned toward the table when the dealer began to pull the cards. He had thought Chestnut rather in- clined to be his friend, If he had shared in the general estimate of the town in regard to Chink be might have con- _tinued in that belief without even doubting. But as he bad a lingering suspicion that the young man was better than he looked, he was almost inclined to understand all this as a de- _@laration of war—unless Chestnut was a capper | for the game, Sense or no sense, no one else would suspect the apparently guileless youth; but without anamile a tussle at San Agustin, and thought | all Mexico was on topof me shortly after I caught the dealer working the brace, How he'll eat up the lambs—if they give him a show! And maybe Oregon will be one of the mangled flock,” He strolled carelessly toward the table, where operations were just beginning. As he took his station where he could watch what was going on without being ia the very front rank, the dealer drew off two cards and turned them up to the right and left, Then he turned the pack and quietly waited for the gamblers to make their stakes. He had given them the jack and queen for a iay-out, and the Sport with a Scar smiled as he saw them drop to their places, ‘* He means ter git ther game started ef it lies in ther wood! Ef ther’s ary Mexicans to ther front, they’ll drop the’r dollars on ther jack; an’ Americans ez want ter tackle monte, ll drop the’r dust on ther kervago every time. Ef he can’t call ther keyards ez he wants ’em, it’s his night on fur luck, an’ ther’ll be a heap more fun ner glory in tryin’ a back fall with ther man behind ther table. I reckon I won’t crowd this game till 1 see what’s soda,” Oregon hit it about right. A dozen men threw their dollars on the queen, | while two or three silent bettors, with faces dark enough to make them look as though they migit heeled jack, The cards talked for themselves, so the Mexi- can kept quiet, When it seemed as though all the stakes were placed, he began to draw off one card after another from the bottom of the pack—which was now on the top. The game had some sligsht resemblance to faro, but outside of a few arbitrary regulations, was simplicity itself. After a time, the jack came out, when the _ dealer, and his looker-out, or partner, proceeded to draw in all the coin placed on the queen, and then paid to each of the lucky ones the amount he had bet on the jack, When the operation was complete, the bank was considerably ahead, ‘‘ A purty good team,” thought Oregon, as he watched the performance closely. ‘‘ f 1 thort thar war enough coin in ther sack ter pay fur ther resk, I might be persuaded. I’ll keep on watchin’ fur a leetle, though.” There was plenty of time before him—or, so he thought—and with the odd perversity of an occasional gambler, he felt irresistibly drawn: toward this game, though it could bite as deep as the regulation tiger. He would have pre- ferred it played with a double lay-out; but, after a little, he thought it time to tackle the animal as it was, and quietly deposited u five- dollar gold-piece on the deuce that happened to be near him, ** One pays the other; he, he!” giggled a voice at his elbow, ‘** Kf yer wins, it makes me weep, butef I can’t help it how kin I? I struck a bonanzer ter-day, an’ I’m goin’ ter double er quit, Ef your luck’s run out, then mine ’ll bein, You kin lay over me with muskel: but fur luck an’ brains, Charley Chink are thar in a heap. Say not, pard?”’ Very slowly Chestnut Chink edged up and slipped a handful of silver out of his pocket, from which he counted down five dollars to the left, on the king of spades. All the time he watched Oregon with a shrewd, though timor- ous look, as though expecting an outburst at this defiance. ** We can’t both win, and that’s a fact,” an- swered the spurt, ** but I won’t lose a cent the more fur it ef yer bucks ag’in’ my judgment till to-morrow mornin’, an’ wins on every turn, play my game an’ you play yourn; we needn’t growl over it. I never squeal when a sport coppers my card at faro; an’ I guess you won’t hear me howl on a tin-pot lay-out like this, Ef, tho’, yer reely bev arything in fur me, ‘long on account ov that leetle mistake at ther Bower, ye’r’ a bigger fool ner yer look, tho’ that’d be sayin’ a heap more fur Brace Box than fur me.” ‘“‘Thar war a fox called ther grapes sour, *eause he couldn’t scoop in ther bank at the ther leetle tin-pot game. Mebbe this ain’t so smallez it looks. Ef I had Mexican Pedro’s _ Vd go East. I’m tryin’ fur it now. I we orty do An’ I ain’t got no ill will fur ina e would hardly be of much benefit to the Anyhow, the deuce lost, and Chestnut Chink’s visible capital was doubled. Oregon’s face showed no sign of his feeling at all discouraged. His smile grew a little more pronouncedly pleasant as he dropped a ten on the table, still to the right. ‘*It will take yer hull fortune, sooner er later, leetle man, ef yer foller my lead,” he mut- tered, casting bis eye over to see what the im- becile was going to do about it, He smiled to see the struggle that Chestnut’s face seemed to indicate. In one hand he held his five silver dollars, in the other the gold | piece that bad lately been Oregon’s The coin might be a mascot. lt was clean and bright. Onan itching palm it might seem to weigh aton. At one time it looked as though Chestnut would thrust it in his pocket and fairly run away from temptation, hen he clapped the gold and silver together and dashed them ou the table he shut both eyes and uttered an audible groan, Nevertheless nerve, such as it was, won, In due course of time he was ten dollars richer, _and was watching the smiling sport drop twenty dollars on his fancy. The loser was doubiing his bet every time, and if Chestnut intended to make good his boast be could not add very rap- idly to the reserve fund in bis pocket. It took | all his winnings to follow the lead of the man be brothers to the dealer, patronized the highb- | with a scar. So far this rivalry had remained unnoticed save by the lynx-eyed dealer and his assistant, 'The other bettors talked louder and put them- selves more to the front. They were wrapped 'up in their own games and monopolized the at- tention of the outsiders, Oregon doubled again and lost, Then once more be doubled, having watched the dealer as he manipulated the cards, ‘It’s luck! blame me ef it ain’t jest a pure streak of hog luck, sich ez even a fool don’t git once in a hundred year! It’s a square deal they’re givin’ us, an’ ther ee pole knocks ther persimmons. Fur ther sake ov Chestnut I’ve balf a notion ter draw out. When luck turns—an’ turn it’s bound ter—it’ll break him all up. Ov course I kin stand it fur half a dozen rounds—an’ this hyar streak can’t last furever,” Another loss caused this soliloquy; and as he once more doubled his bet he saw that he was beginning to attract the attention of outsiders, even more than Chestnut Chink. There were some half-dozen rough-looking men watching the game, who, so far, had not wagered a cent. They glared at him with sin- ister eyes, devouring his purse when he took it out to renew his stake, ‘* This time it’s sure to win, and I may as well play accordingly. It will make the boy squirm if this lad gets there about the time the stakes are wu’th the playing fur. Yes, Pll do it!” Hardly necessary to say what it was that he intended todo, If Chestnut only had forty dol- lars to begin with it would not take a very large outlay of capital to swamp him, So far he had been playing on velvet, and his original five dollars. Oregon meant to lay over the — thirty-five, and see what the result would e, He did it very quietly; so quietly that Chest- nut did not notice at first that there was an ex- tra fifty in the respectable little fortune laid down by the Sport with a Scar. He might have overlooked it altogether had it not been for a low word from the capper, who stood so near that a whisper could reach. He looked at the table and then at Oregon, his jaw dropping as he stared, It had seemeda hard trial to follow his luck with his winnings, but this was something else, ‘*Ha, ba, ha! MHyar’s richness!” rasped a coarse voice at his elbow. ** Chestnut Chink bes bin jest spreadin’ his- self, an’s goin’in ter bu’st ther bank. Hit ’em ag’in, ole pard, an’ we'll belp yer ter scatter ther coin when ther fun’s over.” Three or four new-comers had edged in to the table. Rough and tough they were;. just the kind to follow the youngster to his lair, strip him of his winnings, and then demand thanks for not cutting his throat. Chestnut recognized them at a glance, and his fingers in 1 Seca over his winnings. If the roughs had been ten seconds later they would i SS Oregon, the Sport with a Scar. have been on the table, and most likely quite a little sum in addition. The Mexican muttered a low curse; while the capper put his hand suspiciously to his bosom, *“Caramba! Dost thou jump the game when so much a winner? Down with thy dust! Thy friend backs the tray; join with him if thou wilt, or back the ace if it seems best. No other dealer plays such a game as does Pedro, Thou canst always win with the right card, and he would not rob a babe at his table. But play the game out. He has a long arm for him that acts foul,” ** Foul er no foul, it’s time fur this rooster ter uit fightin’s Mebbe I kin see yer ag’in when the table ain’t quite so crowded. Reely, thar ain’t room fnr me, ’cordin’ ter ify size, An’ I reid ter see aman jest now—’deed an’ double I ev. ‘* Pull yer keyards,” interrupted Oregon, as Chestnut crowded his coin into his pockets with anxious haste. ‘* Ther leetle cuss hes bin hoodooin’?’ my game long ernuf, an’ it’s time yer Uncle Ezra bada chance, ou can’t win ef we both bet, any- how.” “ But if Pedro Joses—thou wilt have played an hour,and the bank never have had a dollar of thy money,” ‘ The whipsaw does seem a little tough; but ou oughtn’t to deal thatsortof agame, Ez ong ez we don’t kick, you sbouldn’t howl, You gits ther fun, Chink gits ther profits, an’ I foot ther bill? You've head it that way fur some time, an’ I’m jest too ready fur achange. Thar’s plenty more uv us a-bettin’ on yer leetle brace, so pull yer keyards er I'll lift my coin an’ go whar thar’s some show.” Oregon talked low and slow. No matter what he said, the tones sounded like good ad- vice, Pedro paid no more attention to the vic- torious Chink, but returned to his cards, which he slipped off as steadily as ever, if, perhaps, a little slower, Anyhow, Oregon won. ‘* Five collars ahead!” he laughed. ‘Chestnut knew when it war time ter retire. Luck’s turned, an’ I reckon, now, lll split ther bank wide open.” The boast was spoken good-naturedly, but it was something like a prophecy of future busi- ness, Everybody looked his way, and then, just as he gathered in his stake, there was the report of a revolver outside, fcllowed by a yell, unmis- takably from Chestnut Chink, CHAPTER XI. BULL-DOG BEN STRIKES A SNAG, THE average man in Brace Box wouldn’t have gone ten steps out of his way to save Chestnut’s neck, and the men that were after him were pretty well aware of the fact, Ore- gon was a stranger, besides being in the clutches of Pedro’s very interesting little game, so they did not reckon on his taking a band. They went at their work as coolly as though they be- longed to Gadley’s Gang, and had found the vic- tim alone in the mountains, The movement that Chink had made was, perhaps, the worst possible under the circum- stances, but he had acted in such baste that no doubt he thought he had eluded the roughs, un- til they rose right in front of bim. ‘* Hold on, pard,” said the leader, who was best known as Bull Dog Ben, ‘““We was jest a-waitin’ fur yer. Thar’s some mighty tough boys ‘round Brace Box, an’ you ain’t jest got up fur ter stand ’em off ef they come fur you, an’ yer sequins, We thort mebbo we'd better see yer hon e.” ‘Jest you go ’way, Bully Ben, Vm runnin’ my own market wagon, Thar war some pid- jins axed a hawk ter fight fur ’em, once; but Ef you don’t let me ain’t jest that kind, erlone [jl yell,” ‘* Ha, ha, ha! Jest bear ther leetle rooster. What good dyer think yellin’ 1] do? Avgustus Adolphus, take ther gent’s other arm, an’ we'll lead him out ov danger.” The rather bold front that Chestnut put on was something of a surprise to Bull Dog Ben, who had fancied he could lead Chestnut away to where he could perform his little stock operation with less danger of interfererce. He had no fears about the success of the attack; but he was afraid that some other gang might come along and demand a dividend. The request to Augus- tus Adolphus was in reality notbing but a blind. He expected Chestnut Chink to look that way, and when the side of his face was presented to slug him. Instead of that Chestnut sprung backward, and at the crack of a revolver began to yell, From the ear-splitting nature of his cries one might have supposed that he was half killed; but in fact it was just the other way. Augustus Adolpbus, or whatever his name was, went down in a heap, with ared smutch on his forehead, and quivering like one at the last gasp, ‘* Curses! Who’ used that iron?’ exclaimed Ben, drawing his own weapon, and glaring around, ‘“‘That’ll empty the Hole quicker’n ef he’d yelled murder all night! Git him away of he ain’t stiff, an’ I'll rustle ther kid.” cs) Gomichboo f con