Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 545 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

ad > ee ai Le 2 tee was forty-five if a day), “‘don’t attempt to tample with an ole man’s feelin’s, I hav’ a sorter fam’ly pride that jest won’t Jet me endoor any slur ’g’inst my fu’st wife’s brother. [’m gittin’? kinder ole an’ outer kilter, but lll fight fer my fam’ly.” Skif hastened to assure the old man that no direct offense was intended, “Yer see,” he concluded, ‘** ser menny galoots cum out byer what’s dun suthin’ as makes ’em liable ter ther law, an’ changes their names, thet we don’t know but one as calls bisself White uster be Black back in ther States.” ‘* Wal, I guess Jonathan Jinkins never done ary thing that he’s ’shamed ov. We allus was good friends, though his sister Marthy did leave me arter livin’ with me for nigh to four years, an’ then got er deevorce,” ** Shook ye, did she?” ** No, she didn’t!” cried Uncle Peter, sharply. ** T never saw the woman yit that could shake me. My boy Job tried that once, an’ I jest peel- ed him rite outer his close, He never cut that caper ag’in.” ‘I mean that she desarted ye.” “There yeou go ag’in!” exclaimed the man from Maine; ‘sayin’ what yeou don’t mean. Why don’t yeou talk like common folks? Yes, she got a deevorce, an’ I never peared ag’in her.” ‘*P’raps her brother won’t care ter see ye now,” ventured Dusty Snif. ‘Yes, he will!” asserted Uncle Peter. “I know Jonathan. He’s built out ov the right kind of timber. I’ve heerd thet’s he’s rich. Hev ye enny rich men in the village where we're goin’?” | ** Waal, there are a few,” replied the driver. “Who's got ther most munny?” ** Martel Molina is sed ter be the richest man in Cimarron.” ‘*Haow much yeou s’ he’s wu’th—tew thousan’ dollars? Ole Rash Cole, who lived over in Harmony Holler, was wu’th three thousan’ clean cash they sed,” ** Waal, Martel Molina is prohably wu’th more’n a hundred thousan’ doijlars,” “* Git eout!” Uncle Peter nearly sprung off the seat, ** Look heer, young man,” he said, half-angri- ly, “‘if yeou want ter try an’ see who ean tell the biggest lie, jest say so,” It was with some difficulty that Dusty Snif convinced the old man that be was in dead earnest. From that time, until they came in sight of Cimarron, be told the man from Maine of the camp and its inhabitants, so that when Uncle Peter descended in front of the Silver Palace, he was pretty well posted concerning his surroundings, Carrying bis old carpet-bag in his right hand, Uncle Peter entered the hotel, unmindful of tre glances of amusement bestowed upon him. The old man called for a room, and with some grumbling paid his bills for three days in ad- vance, He was then shown to a room. Uncle Peter found himself in the usual thin- partitioned, rough-looking room, “This is comfort,” he muttered, grimly, as he dropped the old carpet-bag on the floor, and flung the bell-crowned hat into one corner. Then he lay down upon the bed, and soon fell asleep. CHAPTER XII. UNCLE PETER AS A SHADOWER. WHEN the man fron: Maine awoke he heard the low hum of voices in the adjoining room. At first he thought nothing of this, but as he lay there he caught a word now and then, and he soon began to show signs of interest. With- oF making a sound, he moved nearer the par- ition. There were evidently two or more persons in conversation, and they were speaking in guard- ed tones. Tnere was one whose voice was hoarse and unpleasant; another spoke in a sbrill tone that was modulated for the occasion; still an- other had a smooth, hissing voice. There were three of them surely. ‘* We must all of us strike for his life!” hissed the smooth voice. } ‘“*Durn his hide!” growled the speaker. ‘I never run ag’in' sech er reg’lar cyclone since I war born ter suffer an’ perish in this cold and cruel world. He’s wu’ss nor a crazy steam ingine.” ‘ But you are not satisfied?” quickly spoke the first. ‘‘ Surely you are not done with this fight- ing terror?” ** Not by er blamed sight! Jist take a look at mer beaucherfully frescoed mug, Casper. an’ see : his knuckles hev improved Hick’ry Bill’s good ooks, ‘Diabolo ! Your two eyes are black, your face is bruised and cut. Surely you have cause to remember this fellow.” Then the listener heard a thump and jingle of .glasses, as if a heavy fist had struck a table on which the glasses stood. *“*Member him!” growled the hoarse voice; ‘*ouess I will! [li give him reason ter ’member me in ther hot kentry ter which he'll prob’ly 0. “It’s er durned long time atween drinks,” piped the shrill voice. EEE LLL CC LL ct CY oe PORE os a a ee Hustler Harry, the Cowboy Sport. ** Thet’s all ye think of, Posey.” Then followed a clicking of glasses, gurgling sounds and sighs of satisfaction. ‘* How are you to finisb the life of this fighting Americano?” asked the smooth voice, ** Don't ye worry "bout thet, Casper, [I’m no match fer pim wi’ fists, but I’m goin’ ter pick er quarrel wi’ him, I sha’n’t hesitate ’bout usin’ a shooter. I kin bore bim an’ be outer his reach, an’ I'll do et.” ‘* But the people—they may call it—what you say—foul play. That would mean to hang by the crowd, You do not like that?” ‘Waal, hardly. But Pm all rite as fer thet. Ye all know as how thar’s one who wants ther cow-puncher salted. He offered me a cool fifty ter do ther job wi’ er knife, or er hundred each ef we’d get him lynched. I tried ter stick him jest w’en he shot out ther lights, but I Pi tea cut sumbuddy else. Anyhow, thar war blo on ther floor an’ he warn’t cut, Ther galoot w’at got ther knife skinned rite out. Guess he warn’t cut bud,” “Tt must ’a’ bin thet galoot w’at be war torkin’ ter,” observed the shrill-voiced fellow. ‘“‘It may hev bin. Anyhow thet galoot’s cl’arin’ out as he did guv me a show ter charge ther cow-puncber with murder an’ pick a uarrel,” ‘* An’ git rid fer er muel.” plus jaw. Let ther likker stop yer mouth.” Again the glasses clinked and again came the gurgling sounds, “Phe time while you were fighting with the man with the two hard fists we were giving those who looked on the secret touch that the man of money did give us,” obse1 ved the smooth voice. ‘* He said that they would do as we com- manded if we gave them that. ~We said for the man we hated to be hanged for murder, When the fight was done, they took him from the room to hang bim. He then did escape.” “We all know thet, Cas,” said the hoarse speaker, with some impatience. ‘* W’at we want ter git at now’s how we’re goin’ ter wind up his worsted ther next chance we git. Ther charge o’ murder’s too thin. Thar’s no evidence ter s’pport it, fer ther boady hain't bin found. We've got ter git at ther cuss some other how,” ‘* You said that you would do that thing. You are not afraid that again he will ride you like the horse?” Again there was the sound of a heavy fist striking the table. ; ‘‘ No, by ther holy poker, I hain’t! I will do this if you an’ Pete will finish ther other job of which we war torkin’.” “We'll do thet, Bill,” declared the shrill voice. ‘* Yer kin count on et.” ‘* You say there is not much danger?” ‘‘ None a tall. Ther ole fool will hav’ ther safe open till nine. Wile he’s usin’ it, he never keeps it full locked.” “Then [ kin open it in er minit,” declared the piping voice. ‘* ve worked ’em afore,” - ‘* Hush, comrades!” warned the low voice, ‘‘ We are speaking much too loud. He said that the room on the right and the one on the left were empty. If we speak too loud we will be heard even beyond.” Uncle Peter grinned. ‘Guess he didn’t know Uncle Peter Hodge, from Maine, was here,” he thought. The plotters now lowered their voices and the eavesdropper was obliged to place bis ear against a crack in order to catch a word, Even in that position he could not bear half that was said. owever he discovered that they were planning to rob some one. Who this was or when they were going to attempt the job, Uncle Peter could not learn, j Uncle Peter became very desirous of seeing the plotters’ faces. The first crack he tried was too high. He then found one lower down and applied his eye. He could hardly repress a muttered exclamation of disappointment when he discovered that two of the men were sitting with their backs toward him, The face of the tbird man he could see. This individual was none other than the bruised ruffian, Hickory Bill. The companions of the scarred and falJlen “‘ chief ” were Posey Pete and Casper Gonzalo, Uncle Peter surveyed Hickory Bill’s features closely, and then examined what could be seen of his companions, Never for a moment did he take his eye from the crack, hoping that one or both would turn their faces so that he could see them. He met with disappointment. The consultation finally ended, and - Posey Pete once more remarked that it was a long time between drinks. Again the glasses clicked, and the vile liquor vanished down capacious throats, : ‘‘Now,” said Hickory Bill, ‘‘ we'll stick ter our ’greements. Ill down the critter as calls hisseif a Hard Nut ter Crack while you scoop ther boodle. Thar’ll be no trubble *bout work- in’ ther game at both eends ef we do our level best.” ‘“*Tf you use the pistol and give him not an even show, will not those who witness say that it was murder?’ asked Casper Gonzalo. “T reckon not, Thar’s er open row atween ‘*Shet up, Posey! Ye’r’ too free wi’ yer ser- |. us. Ef I drap him fu’st, who'll say he w’u’dn’t ’a’ dun ther same thing in my place? ‘Sides thet [ reckon thar’s one man as has power ernuff in this byer camp ter say who'll hang an’ who won’t, Tbet man wants Hustler Harry putt out o’ ther way.” ‘*Waal. I'd raytbur hav’ our job’n yourn,” declared Posey Pete. ** Thet’s ‘cause ye hain’t got the backbone, Posey. Ye lack sand.” ** Ef I lack sand, I’ve got er leetle judgment,” was the swift reply. ‘Waal, we won’t ’scuss thet, though yer nose gives ye ther lie,” and Hickory Bill chuckled hoarsely. Once more the plotters drank round, then arose to leave the room, Uncle Peter breathed an exclamation of dis- appointment. Not once had Casper or Pete turned their heads, and when they arose their faces were above the line of observation to be obtained through the crack. The plotters left the room without the Yankee being able to catch a glimpse of Pete’s and C r’s faces, The Down-Easter listened and heard them go heavily down the stairs. ** Neow, Uncle Peter, ole boy,” laughed the man from Maine, ‘‘ yeou wanter see’f yeou kin git yer winkers onter them fellers an’ shadder en), A few moments later, he emerged very quietly from the room and went lightly down the stairs in the wake of the plotters. First he looked out on the street, but saw nothing of his men. Tben he glanced into the bar-room. Hickory Bill was there, talking with the barkeeper. ‘““One of them,” muttered Uncle Pete, ** W here’s the others.” The man from Maine sauntered into the bar- room, and drawing forth a blackened old pipe, began to fillit. Hickory Bill glanced at him, but said nothing. From that time on Uncle Peter did not lose sight of Hickory Bill. When meal time came the man from Maine ate hurriedly, and all the time Bill was standing just outside the dining- room door, talking with a man. Uncle Peter’s peculiar actions attracted atten- tion, and caused more than one to smiie, but everything was attributed to bis ‘‘ greenness,” ‘Never see’d sech a kentry,” be grumbled, as he hastily crammed the food into his capa- cious mouth, ‘“‘A feller jest can’t git enny- thing to eat. Hain’t seen enny baked beans for a dog’s age, and I don’t more’n haff beleeve l’d know what they was neow if I did see ’em,” Some of the people at the table smiled, some looked disgusted. But unmindful of their mirth or disgust, the queer old fellow continued to crowd the food into his mouth and complain that he could not get anything to eat. Finally Hickory Bill moved from the door and Uncle Peter arose from the table with both hands filled with food, ‘1S no use to try,” he muttered, as he walked away. ‘“‘I jest can’t eat that theer stuff. By gum! I'd give a quarter for a piece oy pumpkin pie!” Uncle Peter hoped that Hickory Bill would be joined by his plotting companions, but in this he was disappointed, Twilight followed sunset and darkness settled swiftly over the mountain pocket and camp of Cimarron. Uncle Peter shadowed Hickory Bill to a_ cheap restaurant and back again to the Silver Palace. The rough seemed to be waiting for some one, The nian from Maine thought that be expected to be joined by his companions of the smooth and piping voices; but he was mistaken. he bully was watching for Hustler nam Hickory Bill believed that the Man from High Notch would not hesitate to return to the Silver Palace when he became thus inclined, and the result proved that the bully was right. The evening was yet new, although the saloon of the Silver Palace bad begun to fill rapidly, when Hustler Harry appeared, He entered the room as if a charge of murder bad not been made against him there the night before, and advancing to the bar, quietly called for a cigar. CHAPTER XIII. THE WORK OF DESPERATE MEN, MARTEL Mo.Lina lay groaning on the sofa witbiu his private room. A bandage around his head indicated that he was suffering from a headache, Since noon he had been thus, but had obstinately refused any care or attention from Pear). Slowly the hours dragged by. At dusk Pearl brought him some food and a cup of warm tea. ** Don’t you feel better, papa?’ she asked, anx~ iously. ‘* No,” he groaned, wate ‘‘Perhaps the tea will help you. I made it strong, for I know that you like strong tea when you have these spells.” . Molina was touched, : ‘“‘ You’re a good girl,” he declared, ‘‘ and I do not half appreciate you.” She dropped on ber kuees beside the couch and placed ber arms about his neck. *You’re a dear, good papa,” she murmured softly, as she kissed him, He groaned a little as he thought of the scene Nicboo (eo)