Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 551 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

$e —s epee ——— —_ +. - Garry Kean. 13 ‘* What about Electa?” ‘‘She is a fine woman—a wounded fine wo- man!” declared the miner, with great emphasis.” ‘*T infer she did not prove a Cerberus?” ‘* Great heavings—a what ?” ‘* An obstacle in your way.” ‘*Skeercely, pard, skeercely, Electa ain’t any tyrant. She’s got a woman’s heart, and it’s a prime one, Garry, I admire that woman,” ‘* You do right; but tell me what occurred.” ‘*T will, I come on ter the two lovely females out fer a promenade, jest as you s’pected they would be, an‘ I waltzed up ter them, Electa looked at me with respectable coldness—in fack, i may “ she looked daggers—but when Alice knowed I was there, she wa’n’t cold. Garry, it would have done ye good ter see her cheeks flush, her eyes sparkle, an’ her sweet voice ask ef you was wal.’ ‘** Heaven bless her!” uttered Kean. **Sbe’s one ina thousand, Wal, I tcl heryou was all right, an’ that you’d writ a letter you wanted her ter read, At that Electa growed severe, ‘** Mister Man,’ says she, ‘remember J am here! I am the shappyrun o’ this young lady, an’ guardeen o’ her acts, Thar has been,’ says this fine woman, ‘strange doin’s an’ goin’s on, which I bev allowed ag’in’ my better Jedgment. Now,’ says she, ‘I must see an’ read that letter afore Alice reads it,’ ‘The young lady reminded her that, bein’ blind, she could not read it herself, anyhow, but Electa explained that she must read it privately, meditate on ter it, an’ decide whether Miss Alice ought ter see it. I tol’ her that was all right; that we fully agreed ter that; but she had more ter say. She had a good ’eal ter say; in fact, she was what might vulgarly be called ‘ wound up,’ an’ she spoke about thus y: ‘‘*This hyar is a world o’ iniquity,’ sez she, *where the good an’ desarvin’ hey a wounded hard time. The evil-doers is up an’ at us,’ sez she, severely, ‘an’ we must buckle on our armor an’ fight the inemy. Joan Dorsey did so, an’ ske made a hijjus fear an’ tremblin’ among the scribes an’ Pharisees. Joan Dorseys ain’t com- mon,’ sez she, glarin’ malevolently at me, ‘but I am one, an’ my armor is on ter me!” ‘**T didn’t see what all this meant, nor how it te’ched the case in p’int; but I knowed my duty. I spoke soothin’ to .he good dame, an’ she got right down off her high hoss an’ was as pooty an’ balmy asa sunflower.” ** And she read my note?” inquired Garry, ‘** She did, an’ she said of you thusly: ‘ He is a proper young man, an’an angel couldn’t take offense at this effusion, unless she was too good for airtb,’ ** Nextshe read it aloud. Miss Alice hearkened closely, an’ I reckon she was a bit disapp’inted ter find that you had so little to say.” ‘** | wrote that I thanked her a thousand times for saving me from the mob; that I feared to meet her myself, lest I should add to her troubles; that, above all other things, I had her interests at heart, and that I wished her to write and tell me if she wished me to leave town.” ‘Jes’ what Electa read. You said a good "eal, but you might ’a’ said more, Still, you pleased her amazin’, an’ as other eyes than hers ——poor lamb!—was ter read it, mebbe you said enough.” ‘* But the answer, John; the answer,” “ Here ’tis, right from ber hand, an’ not from hern, neither, but from Electa’s. She writ it, an’ ef you don’t prize it too high, I’d like it ter wear ia pein ag breast-pocket. B’ar in mind that "Lecta writ it!” The big miner heaved a big sigh, but Garry did not hear it. He had hastily seized the letter. It was ou the back of his own communication, and was in prim, old-fashioned writing, but it had potent attraction. It was as follows: “ DEAR Mr, LAWRENCE:—I have received your note with pleasure, and am glad to hear that you are well. You speak very highly of my share in defea ing the rioters, and I thank you for your kind words, The fact that I cov/d defeat them is happiness to me. You ask me if you shall goaway from this city, or stay. If it were not for one thing, I should earnestly ask you to s/ay, but if you do remain, I do not think you will see me. My father has told me that Iam to leave town this evening—whither, I do not know and cannot surmise.” Garry Kean’s face grew blank and dismayed, ree the fact did not escape English John’s no- “Is anything wrong?” he asked. Wrong! I should say so!” “The two women had an argument over the letter. Has—has the gal give ye the mitten?” Honest John asked the question anxiously, but it remained unanswered, Garry was reading on: ‘*My father has never been more kind and gentle, but there is something pitiful in his kindness; it is can I answer? If I were to be here, I should be sorry to have you go. But where am I to go?—where remain? Ido not know; Iam wholly at loss, I dare not advise you.”’ At this point there was a break, several words having been written and afterward crossed out. Evidently, it had been thought they were un- readable, but it was not so, Garry had keen eyes, and he read: **T shall be very sorry if—” The sentence had not been finished, He read on: “In conclusion, I thank you very much for all your govudness. I believe in you now; I always shall. Lhope we shall meet again. ** ALICE.”’ That was the end, and the paper dropped from Garry Kean’s hand and fluttered unheeded to the floor, CHAPTER XV. A QUEEN IN GRACIOUS MOOD, ‘“BAD news, pard, ain’t it?’ English John asked, ** Alice is to leave this town!” Kean answered. ** How’s that?” *““Her father is going to take her away— whither, she does not know, All is wrap in mystery.” ‘* By Cain! he is down on you!” ‘“* Is it that, or—” Kean paused, thought of the secre‘ alleged to be in possesion of Nathan Bradley, and wisely suspected that the cause might rest there, ‘*She don’t speak severe, pard?’ continued John. “The letter is friendly, but she cannot tell what she does not know; she cannot tell where she is going.” **'You bet yer socks she will find a way o’ let- tin’ you know as soon as she gits thar!” Garry’s face brightened, and then grew grave again. ‘* The judge may prevent her from writing.” ** He may try/” John wisely returned, ** but ef you think any man, be he a jedge, President or what-not, kin stop a gal from writin’ when she sets out ter write, you don’t know the female sex. Lord! Lord! Il’d ruther try ter head off a troop o’ wild hosses, or a prairie fire, than a woman who sets out ter doa Si os And John wagged bis gray head and assumed a very philosophical cast of countenance. The Man with Backbone picked up the fallen letter. Asfarasit wasin itself concerned, he could not feel disappointed. What Alice would say to him was not what she would naturally dictate for Electa to write, nor what that lady would write, if told. On the whole the letter was satisfactory, and he would be foolish, in- deed, to feel that he had not received what was due him, The news it contained was quitea different thing. The judge bad not decided to remove Alice from Jack’s Delight without good cause, nor was he a man to leave bebind a trail which all could follow who would. He obviously wish- ed to seprate the girl from the scenes and per- sons most familiar to her, and the work would not be done in a bungling manner. ‘*V’ll agree to find out whar they go,” John added. ** How?” ** Did you ever hear 0’ Daniel Boone?” ** Certainly.” ** He could foller a trail, an’ I reckon I kin. Say the word, Garry, an’ Di dog em to head- quarters.’ ‘é No }” ** Why not?” ** It would be dishonorable.” ‘ec Why ”? se I trust [ an. not a spy, nor the employer of one. ‘““Easy, Garry’ easy. You speak without thinkin’, Ef you had any mean purpose in viaw, it would be off-color ter dog ’em; but where is the dishonorableness o’ this case? You are the gal’s friend, an’ you owe no ill will ter Brackett, Ss’ you do foller the percession an’ see whar Alice is took, where does the mean part come in? Who knows, too, but she may hey enemies, an’s that they may not be waitin’ ter do dam- age? Wouldn’t it be wal fur sech a good friend as you to know whar she is, so ef you seen dan- ger risin’ ag’in’ her, you could go to her rescue?” English John bad argued better than be knew. Garry thought of Nathan Bradley and Elmer Nicholson, Both aspired to take place as Alice’s suitor, and both were so destitute of honor that they would let nothing stand in the way of their plans, The time might come when, if be knew of Alice’s whereabouts, he could save her from a peril of which the Iron Judge might not know. He lookei at the letter again, and his gaze wandered to the words which herd been im- she, or Electa, had believed the expression too strong fora young lady to use toa man with rrr hess SSS LL SSS c whom she had been acquainted for such a short time, ** What’s the verdict, pard?’ asked the miner. ‘“*T shall yield, in a measure,” ** Good !” ** We will endeavor to follow the party, but if the work at any time takesa character which shames my manhood too much, I shall give it ” ‘* Perfectly fit an’ proper.” ‘**T wish I was as cheerful as you are.” ‘*Land love ye, Garry! I can’t help it. It comes as nat’ral ter me as it does ter chaw terbarker!” ‘*'Your honor is not menaced.” “Ts yours?” ‘** Consider my reputation ‘here. I do not say it to boast, but I came of an honorable family, and I have tried to do them no discredit. What is my reputation here? I am bated by the roughs and despised by the better class, and all through no fault of my own. In all Jack’s Delight, | can count but two friends, one of whom is yourself,” ‘*Don’t be downcast by that, my lad, All men haveaturn in this world, an’ knaves git theirn, but what good does it do ’em? I’ve heern tell there is bugs, or some sech reptyles, who are born at sun-up; get ter their prime at noon; an’ die at sun-down. That’s the way with villains; they may flourish for awhile, but they are sure ter git cut off soon, Honest folks may hev troubles, but they come out on top at the end, an’ when once thar they ride through life in a blaze o’ glory that beats a Roman blow- out! Garry smiled faintly. He was grateful to John, because he so plainly showed his sympathy and good will, but philosophy is a poor com- forter when not backed up by events. The men talked for some time longer, and laid lans for the expected events or the night, hen it wasall over, Garry grew despondent and felt a desire to be alone, nglish John was a good friend, but there are times when any society is obnoxious, The actor was in such a mood, and he bade Jobn good-day and left the hut. The first thing that he saw was the green, tree-covered .hills, and it was a sight which pleased bim just then. He walked briskly in that direction, Jack’s Delight was not a la place, and he was not long in leaving the furthest hut behind him, His course was along the road to Bearcoop City, and it was no surprise when, before he had reached the wild locality whith was his destina- tion, he beard the sound of wheels in the rear, He looked around, Along the road a carriage was coming at a good rate of speed. It was a fine turn-out. Two black horses in glittering harnesses were at the pole, and a gorgeous creature in a fawn- colored suit, huge buttons and high hat sat upon the box as stiff and upright as an Egyptian obelisk. Nor was that all—a lady occupied the seat of honor. There was but one such outfit in Jack’s De- light. It was Mrs, Abram Brackett’s, and Mrs, Brackett now held her usual place. Garry gave them gy of room. He had never spoken with Mrs, rackett, and felt no interestin her. He expected her equipage to whirl past and bury him temporarily in dust, but errors in judgment will often occur. Much to his surprise the ry aon ge obelisk on the box reined in the black horses, and stop- ped not ten feet from the Man with Backbone, The latter turned and saw Mrs, Brackett mo- tioning to him, Xt yo enter!” directed the noble lady, gra- ciously, Garry was astonished. Few things would have surprised him more. He knew the lady’s reputation in a measure—knew that she was re-- puted to be proud and haughty to an extreme—-. and why she should deign to address him was amystery. He did not, however, fully under- stand the domestic situation at Brackett house, and it flashed upon bim that this might be the beginning of a better state of affairs, ‘ her, and the invitation was not declined. The acious voice; the white, jeweled hand and the ovely face held potent attraction, but not that by which the female Cesar was accustomed to rule her admirers, All her charms now seemed to speak for Alice, and he yielded, not from mata to Mrs, Brackett, but from devotion her step~ daughter. ‘*Drive on!” further directed the lady, and the grand creature in buttons obeyed. Mrs. Brackett turned to Garry. in a matter-of-fact way. ** Indeed !” ‘*T presume, though, you would prefer ther company of Miss Brackett.” Mrs. Brackett had made room for him besido — ‘** You see I have not forgotten you,” she said, The prevailing idea that Agatha was jealous) as though he were in deep trouble. I have not had gira * een Se out, _” _““T should not have taken you into my car: AME YSTEMS EEE. | wher taa boss UA heer “Bie worings | Se ee ee ; ’ m., For . ] ‘ ie q sogse reason be has ace an ae ne nat a = we hag er wrote the poet ‘* in any case, I appreciate the honor,” assert~- ah ow. ope, and Garry Kean found consolation and | ed Garry. | thin wl bs Secret eich me, ™e Ne Lam | courage in the unfinished sentence; hope told | Probably we shall agree very well.” i “Mr. Lawrence, I have not answered your ques- him that Alice would have said she should be “Thank you.” ) tion—‘ Shall I leave Jack’s Delight, or stay?’ How | Very sorryif they never met again, but that Fr 900kS.CcOoN 5 » | - om , : ; , ‘ . P . Le : ° r . « ‘ hw ia —_<-" i A . . : ' ~ ’ bd , a , _— ots a7