Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 545 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

‘Ty. ae co . “= . 4 vy Py “wat ¥ - . s ro sag Ow a = a a A re Hustler 20 Harry, the ‘Cowboy Sport. Tae ee a eS ATE : ‘ ’ anyhow. Ef we got ther gal an’ turned her ter him, it meant much more,” ‘Ye’r’ right, we’ve dun our parts an’ we’re fools ter wait fer him enny longer. We've 14 oe ter tell him ’cept thet we've lost ther al, Kelnot placed his lips close to Molina’s ear and hoe peret ‘That Hustler Harry knows already.” “oS durned funny he hain’t cum nigh us,” Posey Pete declared. ‘* Like you, [ think we're fools ter stop hyer | ‘* A lynching party | longer,” said Hiékory Bill. frum Cimarron may soon be hyer. Ther gal’s in her dad’s arm by this time an’ Kelnot has spread the yarn all over ther camp—durn ’im!” The Spaniard now began to show signs of un- easiness, ** T have no desire to hang,” he acknowledged. **So I am for going.” Kelnot touched Molina’s arm, ‘*Comeaway,” he whispered. ‘‘ Have you not heard enough?” The mine-owner nodded, and they moved cau- tiously away. Ten minutes later they were standing beside their horses, ‘Which way?” asked Handy Horace. ** Back to Cimarron,” replied Martel Molina, with blazing eyes, ‘‘I am eager to put the searchers on the hunt.” ‘**Good!” exclaimed the proprietor of the Sil- ver Palace, as he swung into the saddle, ‘I believe that to be the best possible move. Are you satisfied now concerning this pretended cowboy?” ‘* He shall be proclaimed an outlaw,” declared the mine-owner, his face dark with rage, CHAPTER XXV. UNCLE PETER ON THE SEARCH. UNCLE PETER HODGE sat on a stone beside the body of the dead negro and stared steadily at the heart-shaped mark on his forehead, There was a strange look in the old man’s eyes, and the peculiar mark seemed to fascinate him, A|I- though he uttered no words aloud, it was plain that his mind was busy. Pear! walked slowly away, but the man from Maine did not notice which way she went. Not once did he glance up until she had vanished— fallen into the hands of her foes. Finally Uncle Peter looked around. He was alone with the dead — The old man betrayed some surprise at Pearl’s disappearance, and peered sharply around in search of her. ‘* Wal, wal!” he muttered. He thought that the girl had walked away a short distance and would soon return; but when five minutes passed and Pear! did not come back, he began to think that something might be wrong. Lifting his voice, he cried: ** Hey, gal, hello!” There was no answer, and a light of anxiety crept into Uncle Peter’s eyes, and his jovial face became very grave, Once more he cntiad, louder than before: j ‘Hey there! hey, gal! Where be yeou?” The result was the same as before and the look of anxiety on the old man’s face deepened. He asked himself where she could have gone so sud- denly, and, of course, could not answer his own question, He then thought that it would have been impossible for her to have passed beyond bead sound of his voicein sucha brief space of me. Again and again he called to her, but she was in trutb far beyond the sound of his voice, be- ing carried swiftly away. hen the Girl iy at returned, she found the man from Maine by the side of the dead negro, but Pearl Molina was gone. In a few words, Uncle Peter told her of the strange dis- appearance of the mine-owner’s daughter. ‘** I fear that she has again fallen into the hands of her foes,” said Ruth, sorrowfully. ‘‘ Still she may have wandered away in search for her ve Would that I could remain and hunt for ier! ** Wal, Uncle Peter Hodge, frum Maine, hain’t goin’ ter skin eout an’ leave ber, Il find ther ga) if I kin—I will, by golding!” He seemed very much in earnest, and though Ruth doubted his ability, she bestowed a grateful look upon him. ** You are very kind,” she said, ‘‘and J hope that you will be successful. I feel that itis my duty to carry poor Joe to his last resting-place.” She had ceased to shed tears, and her face . was very hard-set and stern. This second blow from her deadly foe had bhardeved her beart and made her more determined in ber search for ven- geance. She would show no womanly weakness now. Nothing should stay her hand when the opportunity to strike came. Under her direction the body of the faithful old negro was lifted and bound upon the back of one of the horses. When this was done, Uncle Pete assisted her to mount the other. Then she paused and extended her hand to him, looking straight into his eyes, as he grasped her fingers, ~ thank you for what you have done,” she said, slowly. ‘‘ Something tells me that you are a friend—tI feel that I am right in the touch of our hand. You have promised to search for _ Pearl, May God aid you!” ** Amen!” said the old man earnestly. **-You are unused to this rough country,” con- tirued the girl, ‘‘ You may find Pearl in the | hands of desperate foes. If you do, you will | need to exercise great judgment and _ possibly boldness in attempting her rescue. Here is a heavy revolver that you may have a chance to use, The man from Maine grinned a little and shook | his head as she held the weapon toward him, ‘¢ Guess I do look kinder green,” he admitted; but I hain’t fule enuff to travil witheout pop- ins. | With these words, he displayed two large self- cocking revolvers. Ruth looked somewhat surprised, **'You know how to use them?” she asked. “* Wal, [ should snicker!” was Uncle Peter’s expressive reply. | “That is good!” exclaimed the girl, a stronger light of hope springing into her face. ‘“‘ If the | occasion deman s, do not hesitate to do sv.” | “Tel do, I guess [Il never kum round to | tell yeou ’bout it,” he grinned, ‘I know ’nuff | bout this kentry to know that it is ‘ good-by, | Eben’ if t’other feller shutes fu’st.” With a few more words, they parted, Ruth riding slowly away, leading the animal which | bore the dead negro, Uncle Peter watched her | till she turned and waved him a parting salute as she disappeared. When she was one the old man began to | realize that be bad a more difficult job on his hands than he had thought. Which way should he move first? This he found an unanswerable question, and so resolved to trust in Providence, | The afternoon was well spent when the Man from Maine met Eric Craddoc. As they were strangers, each found bimself gazing at the other over a revolver, for the Down-Easter had jerked forth a weapon as swiftly as Eric could O. “Wal ‘here!” exclaimed the Yankee, with a grin. ‘‘If we jest bad sum feller to caount three neow, we c’u’d pop each other over in great style.” ‘* Who are you?” demanded Eric, “My name’s Hodge, with Peter tacked on in front. Sum put uncle ahead ov that an’ make it Uncle Peter Hodge. Who be yeou?” ‘*My name’s Craddoc.” This brought no light to the old man’s mind, for he had not heard the name from the lips of either Pearl or Ruth, ‘* Where be yeou frum?” ‘From Cimarron, And you?” ‘*Wal, 1 belong ’way down in Maine, yeou’ve heerd tell ov ther place.” The young man surveyed the stranger closely, and mentally decided that he was a new-comer in those parts, Still it was not best to be hasty in giving the unknown a chance to get the drop on him, ‘* How came you here?” asked Eric. Uncle Peter broke into a laugh, which seem- ed to shake him from head to foot. When be regained his usual composure, he said: “By gum! young feller, yeou’ve got more gall’n Jed Babb’s boy Ike ever had, an’ thet Ike was allus axin’ questions, Heow did 1 cum heer? Wal, wal! I didn’t foot it ther bull ov ther way. Guess yeou think ’mer tramp. Hey?” ‘“*T more than half believe that you have es- caped from some lunatic asylum,” was the re- ly. py Sho! Ye don’t mean thet!” Uncle Peter seemed actually surprised. ‘* ve bin took fer most everythin’,” he said, with a sober shake of his head, ‘‘ but never fer er blanked idjiot afore, By tbutteration! Yeou’ve got ter fight to pay fer thet!” Deliberately the man from Maine lowered his revolver and returned the weapon to his pocket, Then he began to slowly take off his coat, which he threw down on the ground, He next ex- pectorated on his hands and advanced toward the young man, vigorously rubbing the palms to- gether. Eric had viewed this performance with some surprise and amusement, but he now began to realize that the man from Maine wasin dead earnest. He meant to fight. ‘* Hold on! hold on!” he cried’ ‘‘I don’t want to fight.” But Unele Peter continued to advance. **Wal, I do,” he declared. “I hain’t took a han’ in a good square stan’ up an’ punch fur fifteen yeers, but w’en er man calls me a loon- ertic or an idjiot—wal, then I’m goin’ ter fight!” Eric could scarcely restrain his amnsement. He now had little doubt but Uncle Peter was what he claimed to be—a stranger in those parts, lately from the State of Maine. “ Wait!” he cried, ‘I will apologize.” ais Peter paused doubtfully and shook his ead. *¢ Don’t yeou do it,” he advised. ‘‘ Thet’d spoil all ther fun. I’d reely hke to try ye a little whirl, jest to see if the ole man’s gittin’ so old thet he hain’t able to take keer ov hisself, used to lick Bill Jones w’en I was a boy, an’ more’n once I’ve wallo Big SethSmith. Say, stranger, let’s see which is ther best feller?” But Eric bad no desire to fight with the strange old fellow from Maine **No,” he said, positively. Guess i i TO “T bave no time _ a 3 5955sS9II9095959..0IIo ——————— to waste in such aridiculous way. If I have offended you in any way I ask your pardon.” “Wal, I bain’t ther feller to force a chap inter anythin’ arter he’s axed my parding, so we'll call it square an’ shake flappers.” Tbe man from Maine extended his hand, which was warmly grasped by Eric, who had begun to like the queer old fellow. After they had shaken hands Uncle Peter went back and picked up his coat. ‘*T guess yeou hain’t seen no gal anywheres rouud these parts, hav’ ye?” he ventured. Eric cast a swift glance of suspicion at him. “A girl?’ he exclaimed, ‘*‘What do you mean?” ** Wal, I’m lookin’ fer a gal, an’ I didn’t know but yeou might hav’ seen her.” ‘** Describe ber.” In his own peculiar way the man from Maine did so. As he proceeded Eric became more and more excited. Finally the young man strode forward and canght Uncle Peter by the shoulder. ‘‘-You have seen her!” he cried. ‘* Where?— when?” Uncle Peter seemed to catch the truth in an instant. ‘¢ Yeou are her lover,” he said. “Where have you seen her?’ repeated Eric. ‘* Where is she now?” **T wish I c’u’d tell yeou.” ‘‘ Well, tell me what you know as briefly as possible.’ The Yankee did so, and when he had finished, Eric uttered a groan, ‘‘The chances are that she has again fallen into the bands of that treacherous cowboy’s hired tools,” he declared. ‘‘ Who ve torkin’ bout? Not ther feller w’at calls hisself Hustler Harry?” ‘‘The very one. Do you know anything of him?” ‘* Wal, not much.” Then the man from Maine told of what he had overheard on his arrival in Cimarron and of it subsequent events in the Silver Palace Sa- oon. ‘* He’s er rip-staver to fight,” asserted Uncle Peter, with a grin, ‘‘ But a perfect snake in the grass,” said Eric. ‘“T have found him out. He is a thoroughly evil man.” With a few words, he then told the Yankee what he knew of the Man from High Notch and what he suspected, ‘* After [ met the ruffian, Hickory Bill,” con- tinued the young man, ‘‘1 returned to the spot where we had left our horses and agreed to meet. The horses were both gone, The treach- erous dog had been there before me, Since that time I have been searching for him, but with little hope of being successful,” There was a strange look on Uncle Pete’s face as he slowly said: ‘‘]’m kinder sorry thet this ’ere feller’s turn- in’ out to be sech a scamp, an’ I’m reddy to do all I kin to help ye find ther leetle gal. i'Lere’s one thing thet kinder puzzles my ole Sead. If this ’ere cowboy’s in with the three tuff critters who kerried orf the gal, what was they layin’ a job to fix him for? They are ther ones, for I heerd the hull bisness,” ‘Hustler Harry, as he calls himself, bas bought their services since they kidnapped Pearl. These fellows will do anything for seg “‘ Thet must be ther way ov it,” acknowledged the Yankee. ‘*Wal, my boy, yeou kin count on yer Uncle Peter to stan’ by ye. I'm reddy to do all I kin to help find ther gal.” ‘Ror which I thank you,” said Eric, as be again extended his hand. ‘ Something tells me that you are not a friend to be despised.” ‘“‘Thankee, thankee,” mumbled the Down- Easter, with his habitual grin. During the rest of the afternoon the two new- made friends kept together until near dark. Uncle Peter finally attempted to persuade Eric to return to Cimarron and gather a band of searchers. But the young man would not do 80. ‘*TLook here,” he said, suddenly, ‘‘ The best way to do this is for you to return to the camp bes spread the news, Tell what you bave seen and get together a party with as little loss of time as possible and return to this vicinity. If you are too long, the ruffians may get word from camp and vacate these parts. If you move rapidly, they will bave no chance todoso. Do you understand?” ‘* Wal, I guess! I’m jest the feller fer thet Jeetle job. Depen’on it, I'll be back with a mess ov fellers by mornin’ or afore, We’ll tarn these ’ere hills t?other end uppards but we'll find thet leetle gal—we will, by golding!” ‘¢ As for me,” added Eric, ‘‘ I cannot go away from here while I think there is the least chance of finding Pearl. Perbaps, if I did, I might miss a chance to rescue her.” ‘‘Thet’s so, thet’s so,” admitted the Yankee, ‘*Guess I know pretty much haow yeou feel. I’ve been there. My fu’st wife was a stunner an’ jest broke me all up afore we was hitched. Arterward she broke me in a diff’rent way. But never mind thet. Ill tell ye all’bout it sum other time. Look out for yer Uncle Peter "bout sun-up.” = ~ \. ~ ip