.
\\\\\\

 

2.50 Published Weekl b Beadle and Adams 9 1
N0.  ntYenr. Na 93 WILEHMysT' NEW YORK ’ Fiveroeeel’nm.  XXX.

 

YOUNG DICK TALBOT.

BY ALBERT W. AIKEN.

TALBOT, WITH WONDERFUL QUICKNESS, CAUGHT THE RUFFIAN BY THE NOSE AND
GAVE IT SUCH A TWIST A§ MADE HIM ROAR WITH PAIN.

 

 

 

 
 

Young Dick W

 

 

young Dick Talbot;

L Boy’s Rough and Tumble Fight
from New York to California.

 

BY ALBERT W. AIKEN,

AUTHOR or “OVERLAND KIT." “noon moun-
r TAIN Ron,” "KENTUCK, THE SPORT,” “IN-
JUN DICK,” “CAPTAIN DICK TALBOT,‘”
“GOLD DAN,” “TALBOT or CINNA~
BAR," “RED RICHARD,” “m
CARSON, KING or oumEs,”
1210., me.

\ __.__._

CHAPTER I.
‘ FATHER AND SON.
OUR story of the early life of the man of
whom we have written so much, the daring
adventurer, who in the wild western land was

. 'known as Richard Talbot. or Injun Dick, com«

mences in New York city some forty years

ago.
At that time the great metroplis was but a
eakling city compared to what it is now;
ortieth street bounded its northern limit, and
many well-to—do people dwelt in the down—town
streets now given up to the dcmands of trade.
East Broadway was then a fine street, many
wealthy merchants had their homes there, and
much the rest were two brothers, Patrick and
Danie Gwyne, partners in a flourishing import
in business; '
rishmen were they
“Black North,” as the otestant provinces in
the northern art of Ireland used to be termed
by the Englisnofliccrs who were always very,
much averse to being detailed for duty there,
as the inhabitants were cold and formal in their
manners, a decided contrast to the fun-loving

. people of the southern towns.

The two brothers were good representatives

“of the cold north, both had been married to

r

3 south of Ireland girls, both had lost their wives,

but had a child apiece to remind them of their
he] motes. ,
atrick,‘ the elder brother, had a son, a. boy

of eighteen, at the time of which we write, and :

named Patrick also like his sire.

Daniel was blessed with a. daughter, a blue-
eyed, goldcn‘haired beauty, :1 perfect little fairy
or a girl called Bernice.

The children weroya, most decided contrast to
their fathers, taliin after their warm-hearted
southern mothers, eing rash, impulsive and
altogether wanting in the cold reserve and
prudent cautiOn of their sires.

-‘ Bernice was but a child, being nearly ten
years younger than her cousin, Patrick.

She was the idol of both her father and
uncle, the latter being especially drawn toward

her, because he fancied he had good cause tobe ‘

dissatisfied with his son.
r The wil impulsive traits did not seem to be

e lo had hit )9 girl as they appeared in the boy.

Ever since young Patrick was fifteen years
when he left school to take a subordinate

liy birth, natives of the l
r

tion in his father's business, he and his sire
ad been drawing further and further apart.

Not but tho bo attended strict] to his duties,
but day _by day a more clearly showed that he
had :1 W111 of his own, and was not disposed to
yield implicitly to all his father’s whims.

And, as generally happens in all cases of this
kind, the sire grew more and more stern, and
more disposed to force the boy ,at all‘hazards to
obey his slightest wish, as he fancied be per-
ceived an inc ination on his son’s part to do as
be pleased. _ ' '

As time went on, there were hot words every
now and than between the two, for the boy was
high-spirited, and resented the iron rule of his
father, which was beginning to develop into
downright tyranny.

, The old man was really not aware of this for
2 he believed he was acting strictly for his son’s

 

cod, and mourned greatly at the rashress of his '

Impulsive son, never dreaming that be, in a great
measure, was responsible for it, for there was a
great deal of the bigot and fanatic about the
stern old man, and with his inflexible rules be
was vexing the really noble spirit of his boy
near to the verge of open rebellion.

On the particular night that our story com.
mencos, there was an open rupture between the
two, for the old man, yielding to a mean it”.
pulse had placed a spy upon his son and the re-

port made by this creature, excited him almost V I

to madness. '
l After the fashion of the race from which he
rung old Patrick Gwyne held a family coun—
011‘ and young Patrick was cited to appear be-
fore it.
In the somber parlor sat the two brothers, the

old-fashioned arm—chair in a. corner,a look of

apprehension upon her beautiful features, and L
young Patrick, with a proud look upon his hand- ,

,some face, faced his Judges with anuudauntcd
1111911.
, Young Gwyne at this time had just reached
; his eighteenth year, and being extremely well
‘ developed for his age was on almost perfect
specimen of youthful manly beauty. ‘ _

He stood fully five feet eight high, weighed
, about one hundred and thirty pounds, was as
' spry as a. c t, and us subtle as a snake.
His face was a handsome one, with its regular
l features, all clearly cut, his dark blue-black
, eyes and brown-black han', clustering in crispy

 

 

, Raglan; close to his perfectly shaped bead, and
l 3 ‘ '

3 A youth, right at the entrance of‘ his worldly

right, honest expression.

path, with a. great future before him,’if all went

; well, for he was one of nature’s nobleman;

A dark scowl came over the face of the father

1 as he’survoycd his son.

l

The spirit of independence so plainly visible
in the boy’s appearance made him angry; he
would have fain seen the
quail beneath his frown.

The uncle too shook his head in asolemn man-

1 nor. Less hard by nature than his brother yet

he believed him to be in the right and deeply
regretted that his unlucky nephew by his grace.
less conduct should come so good a (other so
much trouble. « '

golden—haired fairy, Bernice, was nestled insn ,

youth tremble and 1

.MAa-«Vu— .. .7. , .

...x‘..,)..A-z~—--<

«a! _

 

of .

"mua. he I_A ,

. use *IMNMN

' had asp

 

Young Dick Talbot. 8

-\.

 

“So, you have come!” uoth the old man,
glaring at the boy with t e angry frown of a
judge eager to administer a. deserved sentence
upon a hardened criminal. .

“Yes, sir. you sent for me and of course I
came instantly to learn your pleasure," replied
thehoy. perfectly cool and self-possessed.

“U on my word, young man, you have the
impudgnce of Satan himself!" exclaimed old
Patrick, enraged at the gallant bearing of the

oath.

y “I hope not, sir. for I do not consider that it
would be a merit.”

“ Oh, isn’t it a merit to set yourself up in open
defiance of your father?"

“ lam not aware, air, that I have done any-
thin of the kind.”

“ 0 you dare to tell me that you have yield-
ed im licit obedience to all my wishes?” cried
the 01 .man in arage, shaking his uplifted fin-
ger in warning. _

“All your wishes, sir. that I ought to respect,
I hava obeyed to the letter.”

“ Ahal do you hear that, Daniel?” the father
exclaimed. “ Do you hear how he talks like a
lawyer? All my wishes that he ought to re-
spect—he makes himself the udge, you see. If

I lay a command upon him t at he doesn’t like, _
He obeys ‘

he consults himself about the matter.
we when it suits him, and when it doesn’t suit
him, I may go han for all he cares.”

“ pon my wor . it is a shame!” interposed
the uncle. “Oh, Patrick, my boy, is it you
that ought to set yourself up in opposition to
the will of your father?” and he shook his head
in the most doleful manner.

“And what. in Heavan’s name. am I?” cried
young Patrick, vehemently. “A slave, with
no will of my Own—no light to do ought of my
own free desire? I am not a child, and do not
think that it is right I should be kept in leading~
strings, as thong I was nothing but aboy of
ten. ‘ /
“ Patrick. you are upon the downward path l"
cried the father solemnly. “If you go on in
your dissolute course, you will surely come to

e hanged in the end. You will bring hitter

.sorrow and shame not only upon yourself but

,upon all who bear your name.”

“Father, you are too harsh with me," re-
sponded the boy, choking back the passionate
denial which had risen to his lips, and endeavor~
ing to reason calmly about the matter.

_‘Too harsh with you?” exclaimed the old
man, growing more and more violent. “ By my
soul! have not been half strict enough. If I
could have foreseen this ten years ago, I would
have had you putin solitary confinement, and
fed upon bread and water, until I had broken
this eaten-like spirit which has grown up within
you.

“Maybe you think that I do not know at
your gomgs-on; you think I am ignorant of
the downward path that your feet have been
treading for the past three or four years.

“ But I know more than you dream of. I’ve
upon your track, and I know every-
thin . ’t that true, brother Daniel!” '

“ 08, yes,” responded the uncle, with s
groan.

The younger brother was but an echo of

I

 

the elder, always agreeing with him in every.
thin .

“ five had you watched 1" continued the old
man, growing more and more Violent, as he re-

' floated upon his wrongs. “ Think of that—think

of the shame of it! Compelled to put a spy upon
my own soul” _

“ But there wasn’t any necessity of doing
anything of the kind I” cried the young man
indignantly the hot blood reddening his cheeks
and forehead. .

“ Wasn’t there?” asked the father in a tone of
withering contempt.

“No, sir, there was not. If you had asked
me I would freely have told you everything
that you desired to know. Whatever my faults
may be, father, duplicity is not one of them. I
am of your blood, and tradition says thereneVer
yet was a liar with the Gwyne name.”

“And do you mean to say you would have
dared to stand up before me and tell me to my
teeth what I have found out about you?”

“ I do not know of couisc of what offenses I
am charged by this unknown spy, who, like all
the class to which he belongs, no doubt did his
best to earn his money, but this I will say. I
would have told you the truth and abided by
the consequences.”

 

CHAPTER II.
Hausa CONDITIONS.

“YOU think to hoodwink me by this braver
dol” exclaimed the old man fearfully exaspera‘
ted, “ but you’ll crouch and tremble when you
discover that 1 know everything.‘l -"

“ No, father, to crouch is not in my nature,”
replied the son. “ When I am in fault I am
ready to own it frankly and abide the result,
and now, when I look back over the past, few
years I am conscious that I have not acted as I
should have done. I have been wild and reck-
less, but in a measure you are to blame; you have
ruled me with an iron rein and in the folly of
youth, rebelling a inst what I considered tobe
unjust treatment, have been led into indiscre-
tions, of which, otherwise, 1 should not have
been guilty.” '

The rage of the father became increased by
this bold speech, the more so that in his hea
he knew that every word was true. =

He had attempted to reduce his proud, high-
spirited son tothc abject condition of aslave;
was its. wonder that such a boy should have
resented the ill-treatment?

“ Ah, matters have come to aflne state indeed
when a scapegrace son dares to u braid his
father i” cried the old man in heat. ‘ Of course
I am to blame for all of it because I would not
allow you to go on in your own reckless way, I
but endeavored to bring you up'like a decent
boy. But it’s all over now.‘ My eyes are open
at last, thank Heavenl and‘ I’ll soon make an
end of this disgraceful shame.”

“If you apply those words to me, father, I
can only say that I have not done anything to
merit them. ’ x -

“ Oh, you hav'n’t!” exclaimed old Gwyne,
endeavoring to work himself up into a passion,
for he felt that he was in the wrong and was

 

“i

 

 

 

 

. n my old age.

, father in a tone of supreme contempt.

, 'ments.

‘ accusation.

 

d

Young Dick Talbot.

 

g to lash himself into a fury so as to stifle ‘3
the voice of conscience.
“No, sir, I have not; I have been ferllish, I
own, but not in the least degree crinunal,"
answered the boy, firmly, yet perfectly resper

u .
“Ah, you’ll change your tune in a moment

. when you find out thntlknow all about ynul

Oh, it’s dead I would rather see you than have
on live to bring disgrace and shame on me
Are you not a card-player—
answer me that—a gambler that wins dirty
money from foolish men who can ill-afford to
lose it?”
“I do play cards, sir, once in a while,” re-

‘3 plied the son. slowly, and in a regretful tone;

‘ I am a member of a social club where to pass
the time away cards are played. I with the
rest got into the habit, but we do not play for
money, nor with an one but the members of
the club, so you see am not a gambler nor the
assooiute of gamblers.”

“But there’s not one of them that can play

 "card? with you; you always win, and that
V groves that you cheat!" thundered the father,

crcely.

“ No, sir, forgive me for being obliged to con-
tradict you so nbruptly. but it doesn‘t prove ,
anything of the kind. It only shows that l
have a natural talent and skill for sm-h thir gs. |
I win because I am a better player than my an-
tagonists and that is all there is to it.”

‘ And you’re a pistol-shot, too, I am told; you
practice at a target and can hit the bull’s-eye
nine times out of ten; on are fitting yourself
to commit murder one 0 these days.”

“ Oh, no, sir,dt is a harmless sport, and there

 again you must blame nature which has blessed

me with quick and correct eyes and nerves of
iron.”

“ And you’re a boxer, tool" exclaimed the
“They
say there is no one in the club that can stand up
against you, that you’ve an armlike iron and
can lay out the biggest mad there is there with
no‘more trouble than if he was a big boy. The
next thing I know you’ll be in training for a ‘
priz4 fight, I suppose.”

“Oh, no. not the least danger of that. We»
onlyme the gloves at l he club for amusement and
because they have been recommended by‘physi- 
clans as a means of healthy exercise for youn l
men'like myself who are confined to a desk al ‘

 

da .

XOh, you can find plenty of reasons no doubt,
but I ob act to all these little innocent amuse-
’ll not have ya grow u to be u dis-l
grace to me in my old a e, a pisto shot, a prize- |

ghterfi a. gambler, an a di‘unkard too 1103
doubt.

“No,’fathsr, no, stop there!” exclaimed the:
boy, warmly, his pride touched by the unjust
“ No one can say with truth that I
ever trouble liquor: I am stricth temperate,
not only from choice, but because I don‘t. really
care for it; liquor to me is more like medicine
than anything else."

“ he only virtue you’vn got you wouldn‘t
have if you could help yoursal ,’ scoured the
old man. I

' " You are unjust, father, as you have been to
me for years, so it is unless for me to re 13’.”

“ Unjust l" cried the father, fiercely, “ ecause
I want to bring you up in the right wa , and
set my face against all this wicked folly; hen
I was a boy I had to do exactly as my father
said and I would have as soon thought of flying
as attempting to act contrary to his wishes.

“ From the house I went to the store, and
from the store I came back ,to the house, and I
never even dreamed of clubs and suchwicked
ness. Your uncle, Daniel, can bear Witness to

_ that.”

The brother solemnly nodded his head.

“And that is the reason whyl am now a
thriving man; but you—what Will you ever
make, oing on in this evil way _

“Do not perform all the duties allotted to
me to your satisfac‘ioul"

“A cloak—a cloak to blind my eyes to the
evil ways you follow when you are not under
my eye l” cried old Gwyne, vehemently.

‘Father, I will not attempt to answsr that
accusation, for I understand that all argument
on my part would be useless. You have seem-
ingly made up your mind that I am everything
that is bad, and I do not suppose that any-
thing I can say will induce you to alter your
opinion."

“No—401‘ I know the truth. and all your
smooth speeches will notexplain awn y the facts.
Now listen to me. We four in this room are

all now living on earth who hear the Gwyn-er

blood in their veins.

“ It has always been understood between
your uncle and myself that one of these days, if
you proved worthyvof the trust, you should be-
come the husband of Bernice, and so kee in-
tact the fortune th’at the Gwyne brothers ave
accumulated.

“But you are a disgrace to the name, and
both your uncle and myself are determined
that the money we have earned by honest in-
dustry shall never be squandered in riotous de-
bauchery. ‘ I

“ If you could only see ourself as others see
you, you would be amaze at the spectacle you
present.

“Look at Thomas Atherford, your fellow-
clerkl There is a model young man for you.
He’ll rise, mark me, while you will sink until
you reach a pauper’s grave.”

“ Father, it is beneath me to attempt to be-
little eVen a man whom I thoroughly despise-
yet in this instance I must say that if, to rise in
this life, I must take pattern by such a sneaking,
criugingcuras Thomas Atherford, then 1 think
I would rather remain a. poor man all my life.
You believe in him because. for the an kc of ybur

l favor, he is willing to even kiss the ground where

you walk. He tries to be on good terms ‘with
me, although he knows I despise him: but I
understand what he is up to—he pretends to be
my friend that ho may get a chance to injure
me. His brother Robert I once had some faith
in, but lately I have come to believe him to be
as bad as the other. ” ‘

“ Both of them are examples that you would.

do well to profit by l” the tather exclaimed,
haughtily. _ I

is“ ‘ ,. ‘3“,

 71w“. 4,. , M“

,l

l

I.

    

 

 

 

 

wk“;

  

 
   

3,
if
i'

 

Ill"
4

a .

 

 
 
 
  

b ‘ 7“

“You are blind, 'I see to the faults of every
one excepting the unfortunate soul unlucky ’
enough to be your son,” the boy remarked, bit-

, terl .
“§ou’ll not better your case by attempting to '

injure those two upright young men—41nd now
listen to my determination in this matter,” said
the old man, with all the sternness of a. judge.
“ I will give you another chance to reform.

You must give up your clerkship in the store; ,

you must commence at the ver foot of the
ladder, and begin as the porter. want to bu-
miliate you, and see if I cannot drive out this
pride and break your stubborn will.

“And as time goes on, if I see that you are
turning over a new leaf and leading a different

life, I will promote you gradually;i as I see you i should

are deserving of favor. But a your habits

of life must be changed. No more of these fine .
clothes; you must dress as a porter would dress. ,

 

Young Dick Talbot. 5

 

lieved that if the could remove young Patrick

from the store, t eir chance for advancement

was certain, and so they plotted with satanio-'
‘ like cunning.

For over three years it had been going on.
Thomas passed in the store as a model young’
,1 man while Robert went out of his we to make
, the young man familiar with all the ast life of
r the great city‘. He it was who introduced him '
to the social club, and although there wasn’t
I, anything wrong about it, for all the members
3 were young men of good standing who had
‘ banded themselves together for good fellowship
1 and mutual enjoyment, yet the schemers fondly
{hoped it would prove the stepping-stone to,
1 wilder pleasures such as no prudent young man

ndulge in.

The aflair did not progress, though, as the
precious pair had anticipated.

With all the vigor of well~develnped youth

l

l

 

 

 

Straight from the house to the store you must i the boy entered into the sports which the social
go, and when your work is done you must re- { club fostered. As a cardrplayer he was singu-
turn immediately to the house again. I must i larly expert, seemed to be able to do about as ‘
have an account of how you pass every hour in l be pleased with the pieces of pastebonrd, and

the day from the time you get up, until you re- : could perform more tricks than any juggler or

tire to rest again.”
“ And if I do not submit to these harsh oondi— ]
tionsl” the young man asked.
“ Then
cried the old man, sternly. “I disown you! ,1
You must go forth from this house and never ;
return to it while the breath of life is in my i
body!” l
“ Oh, uncle, you will not be so cruel l” walled [
the child, Bernice, her big blue eyes filled with
tears. :
“Be silent, my dear, ou must not plead for 1
this wretched, stubborn y!" exclaimed the old ;
man. a
“You are right, father, about that; I am,
stubborn for I would sooner gain my bread as ;
a day laborer in the street then submit to such I
degrading conditions. _
‘1 am your son, father, and as obstinate in 1
my way as you are in yours. Farewell, I go -
forth into the world to seek in fortune; be it
good or evil I will never dar on your doors;
again until you repent of the injustice which
you have done me this night.”
Taking his bet he mowd toward the door. l
“Eugene and take with you the bitter curse
of an outraged father i” cried the old man in a
fearful rage. '
The boy replied not but wont forth min the
might.

 

CHAPTER III.

«as: UPON rm: WORLD.
11‘ was with a heavy heart. despite his bold
“01113, that the‘young man left the house.
Although he felt he had been treated unjustly
yet it was no light matter to leave the roof
which had sheltered him almost from his birth.
In a great measure the father was wrong for
the boy was not guilty of the charges which had
been brought against him, but the mind of the
are badmbeon systematically poisoned against
9 on '
Tile brothers Thomas and Robert Atherford,
beinpnrticulsr favorites of the merchant. bo-

/

 

, fl 1 with the boxing-gloves, the retired pugilist who
you “'3 no longer a 30“ 01' mmel l taught the club, admitted he was a “ terror.”

1 card—sharp in the land.

As a pistol-shot he became renowned, and ~

But at this point his wildness stoppc-d. He
did not drinkI nothing would induce him to '
gamble, and his expertness in the “manly art
of self-defense ” seemed only toinspire inn with
an ardent desire to keep out of all quarrels.

This was the truth but the stories~ that came
to the father’s cars, thanks to the two Scheme“, _
represented the boy in the worst possible light;
and old Gwyne, being by nature a cral-b~d, ob
stinate man, determined to put the boy through ’
such a disolpline as would eflectually crush all
wildness out of him. ‘ ' 5

Either he must submit or else go forth into .
the world a beggar. _V

This was entirely due to the two brothers,
who had made up their minds to ruin young
Patrick. ‘

The blow at last had fallen, and as the boy ,
walked along the street he realized that he W
his own master.

The future was before him for him to make or.
mar. , .
Desolate enough he felt too, although be we!
not absolutely helpless. _

He had been in the receipt of a fair sale ,
and although he had never troubled himse f _
about saving any of it, ’et, as he' was not in~,
olined tot be,expensive, e usually had consida
erable money in his pocket, seldom being with-
out flfty or sixty dollars.

As he strolled slowly alon the street heex- ,
amined into the state of his unds.
He had exactly fifty-one dollars in his pockeh
book, and a good suit of clothes n n his back. '

“Well, I am not so badly off." e murmured,
communin with himself. “Many a man has
commence the world with far less capital md’
yet achieved a fortune. ' '

“ But where shall I go?" '

And as he put the question, upinhls mind 
thoughts of the golden Pacific coast. The on-
riferous fever had been in full blast for some

 

 

 

 

6 Young Dick Talbot.

 

years at the time of which we write. and the
strange stories of the almost fabulous fortunes
which had been achieved by lucky adventurers
on the for Pacific slope had excited the wonder
of the stuy—at-homes who had l‘l‘Sisted the temp-
tations to wander afar in strange lands.
“That’s the place for me, California!" our
hero exclaimed. “I will go there, and there

isn’t any reason why I shouldn’t make a fortune ‘

as well as the rest Who have succeeded. I’ve
money enough to take me there, if I am pm-
dcnt with it, and if I could return in five or ten
years, independently wealthy, perhaps father
would change his mind about me. It is worth
the trial, and I would fai rather go away than
stay in the city.

‘ Now that have lost the confidence of one
who ought to have been the last man in the
world to listen to evil about me, the quicker I
get away to some locality where I will not
encounter any one but strangers the bett r.”

Wrapped in these loouiy thoughts the youth

was proceeding slow y along when his medita-
tions were interrn ted by a sla on the
shoulder, and a well- nown voice exc aimed:
“igwyne, you’re just the fellow I wanted to
see.
The oung man turned and beheld the jovial
face oiy Johnny Calpen, one of the most [forni-
nent members of the club to which wyne
belonged, and a. particular friend of his.

“ Is that so!”

“ Yes, I’m out fora time to—night, and I want
you to come along.”

Johnny had the reputation of being a pretty
fast oung man, and for that reason, ulthou h
our era was very intimate with him at t e
,. club, yet he had always amidedgoing with him,
when Johnny started out, to have what he called
a good time.

v r “’1: afraid you’ll have to excuse me,” Gwyne
‘re 6. .

BAh, that is what you always say; but this
time I am not at all inclined to take no for an
. answer!” the other exclaimed, passing his arm
through Gwyno’s, and falling in step with him.
“And I say, what’s the matter with you to-
night! You look as if you had lost all your
friends.”

“Not so bad as that, I hope.”

“ Are you sick?”

“I’m not feeling very well,” the youth
., replied, endeavoring to shrke (if the depression
. that weighed so heavil upon him.

“ The more reason t on that you come along
with me and haven good time. Come along,
and as an inducement I’ll show you a rare
aghflno that will make you open your eyes

“Wham in" .
“A liar and hypocrite With the mask oi!—

your particular friend, Thomas Atherl'ord, the
wily scamp that has been doing his bestto make
trouble for you. I have come across his tracks
two or three times in the club lately, and“ this
place where I am going, I heard him boasting last
night to some of his cronies that a certain party
- ‘ would get the sack before long, and that it was
» all, his doings, too. ' He didn’t mention any

 

l

i

uhmas. but tram certain things he said in con-y

   

 

nection with the matter, I came to the con-
clusion he referred to you.

“ He didn’t know that I was around for when
l hear-Hum begin to talk freely I kept in the
heel-:3,» ound on purpose.”

I “ i wonder that he so far forgot his usual cau-
tion as to openly expose his game. I knew he
hated me, and most certainly despised him,
yet he always treats me with a fawning civility
that is perfectly disgusbin .”

“ To tell you the truth, wyue, my boy,” said
his companion with a laugh, “the modest, re-
spectable and humble Thomas had been drink-
ing some ale and it had got into his head, other-
Wise I do not doubt he would have bad sense
enough to hold his tongue. -

‘_‘ But come along with me to—night and sur-
prise the sea mp in a place that he wouldn’t have
your father know that he visits for a thousand
dollars."

“ I’ve half a mind to go with you for it is a.
Itrongfiemptation to behold the rascal as he
really is,” our hero observed. “ I’ve just had a.
quarrel with my father and I should not be sur-
prised if this low scouudrel is at the bottom of
the whole affair. ” '

“ No doubt about it, the sneak is mean enough
for anything. I know he has tried to backvcap
you——to use the slang—at the club, and from

what he said last night I gathered that the club '

wasn’t the only Place where he has been trying
to make mischie for you."

“ He has certainly succeeded with my father,
if he is the party, and I feel pretty well satisfied
he is. My other told me that he had had a spy
upon my truck and had been informed of every-_
thin I had done for some time past.”

“ 1y Thomas is the man de nd upon it!”
Calpen cried. “I tell you what it is, Gwyne, if
I were you I should fee precious like giving him
a. ‘ If t utnfling.” -

e e ow was an match for m rha
I should." y 9 p6 p8

“ Why he is twenty to thirty pounds heavier
than you are and bigger every way; he is three
or four years older too, isn’t he?”

“ Yes, he is twenty~two or three, I believe.
and he is bigger than I am in every way, but for
all that he is no match for me.”

“I don’t doubt that; Ifeel sure you can get
away With him, but as far as size and weight go,

L most folks would consider it more than an even

thing and say decidedly that the advantage
was ,on his side.

“But I say, you’ll come along with me, eh?
J list for greens, you know! I’ll bet this sly ’coon
will look uigustod when he sees he is caught.”

“ Yes, 1 Will go with you!” our hero exclaim-
ed! ielding to a. sudden impulse. " ‘

‘ hat's right and we’ll have a jolly time!”

CHAPTER IV.
A In: N or s I x .

Tim two friends proceeded along‘East Broad-
way until they came to Chutham square and
then turned into the Bowery.

“ You wouldn’t have believed that this fol-
low was such a confounded sneak, if you hadn’t
good proof of it!” Calpen remarked.

 

 

.;
l
i
l.

.. .w. .N:,.—e...I ‘

E
l
l
l.
i
g
l

 

.fi..,..._w , . F, ., g 

 ,r

 

 

 

 

W‘
l
i
i.

.. .w.__..:,u—u..~v

l...,-—~m.~;_~w’ n .. .,

 

 

 

 

  

v—J‘wwa r . ,.. -. .L-w

 

 

Young Dick Talbot. _ ?‘

ya '

0' Ito, I should not, although I never liked him I

and always had an idea that he wasn’t such a
saintas he tried to appear.”

“ Not much of a saint about him as you will
see before you are an hour older.”

The Bowery at this time was just about the
same sort of a street as it is now, filled with
saloons and all sorts of little shows, and one who
walked along it jostled people of all nations and

listened to exclamations in almost every modern ‘

lanfiuafie.
e owe‘i-y has always been the most cosmo-
politan of all the New York streets.

Strangers, particularly those in search of
what is opularly known as a good time, seemed
tgflizd t eir way to the Bowery almost by in-
s inc . ’

The two friends went on until they passed
Hester street and then Oalpen stopped abruptly
in front of a dingy, two-storied wooden house,
aery much the worse for the wear and tear of

me. _ v
A saloon was on the ground floor, rather a
low—looking place and Calpen laughed as he no«
ticed the dubious way in which his companion
eyed it.

“ This isn’t Broadway, old fellow, and you
mus’n’t look for style in the Bowery,” he re-
marked. “ This is a cheaE place, you know,
and does not disdain to re 6 in anything from
two cents upward, and if a man should be fool-
ish enough to display a roll of five-dollar bills
he would be looked upon as a millionaire.”

Just such low dens exist in the Bowery to—day,
and one can see plenty of the old-fashioned
wooden houses in a stroll from Chatham square
to Grand street, although it is but a few
blocks.

“ You’re a kind of a funny fellow, Gwyne,”
Calpen continued, “and never had much curi-
osity about seeing the elephant while I always
want in for a sight of the animal, but to-night
you shall see what you shall see 1"

In his present state of mind young Gwyne felt
reckless enough to go into any thing.

This was to be the last niglait that he would
spend in New York, in all pro bility, for years,
and what mattered it then where he went? So
without objection he followed his companion.

hgalpeu proceeded like one well acquainted with
t way.

There was a shabby green door next to the
saloon entrance which evidently gave access to
the ugper part of the house. ‘

Th door Calpen opened and the companions
found themsolt es in a small entry, illuminated
by a single gas light. /

At the further and of the entry was another
door, tightl closed.

Calpen a vanced and knocked upon it.

A little door, about six inches square, in one
of the upper panels was 0 ened and the grin—
nin face 01 a negro look out upon the two.

“ t’s all ri ht, Alphonso I” exclaimed Cal-
pen, who delig ted’to fix high-sounding names
u n everybody at the slig test provocation.
“ his gentleman and myself are on a. tour of
inspection. Are the animals at home?” _

“I ’spects the are, massa,” responded the

I block. showing y the liberal display of his

 

ivorles that he appreciated the wit of the
young gentleman. ‘

Then he closed the secret panel and proceed-
ed to shoot back the bolts whic guarded the
door. '

“This is a good stout door, you will notice,”
Calpen remarked; “and by the noise the fellow
is making with the bolts, it is apparent that it is
guarded as securely as the entrance to a jail.
The idea is to prevent unwelcome visitors from
getting in without considerable trouble. While
the door was being forced the people upstairs
would hava plenty of time to get out of harm’s

wa .

B’y the time the explanation was finished the
door swung open. ’

“Many visitors to-nighti” Calpen asked, as
they assed the guardian of the door.

“ o, sah, not ’yet; too earl , sah."

“That is true, the guide 0 erved to Gwyne
as the 5 ascended the stairs which commen ‘
just eyoud the door. “The crowd whose
money really keeps the house going don’t begin
to at in until about midnight. ’

ur hero had not a very clear idea of what
sort of a place it was that he was entering, al-
though of course, he understood that it was
some den beyond the pale -of the law; there-
fore, he was not surprised to 'find himself in a.
re ular gaming-room, fitted up in tawdry style.

here were half a dozen men in the room,

old and young, but only one or two were play‘

ing: the rest were lounging on the sofas and,
chairs, keeping an anxious eye upon a side—
board, where a negro waiter was setting out a
“ sumptuous ” lunch, the principal dishes of
which Vere fried liver and stewed tripe.

Two of the men recognized Calpen and his
companion the moment the entered. '

They were both'young,ta out twent -two or ,
three apparently, and looked enough a ike to be ,
brothers, as they were. , ‘

Both had evidently been drinking, and were
slightly under the influence of liquor. '.

hese were the two brothers whom our h’ero
had reason to believe had been secretly working
to do him harm. .

“Young Gwyne, by all that is wonderfull” the
elder brother exclaimed to his companion—the
two were seated on the sofa—the moment the
young men entered the room. ,

The speaker was Thomas Atherford, the fel— j
low. who carried himself so demurely during
busmess hours that all his associates looked upon ,
him as a model young man. ,

The younger brother, Robert, was not so skill-
ful an actor, and then, too, he was rougher in _
every way, while Thomas was as smooth as
silk and as oil as a confidence operator.

“Well, we] , of all places in the world for
him to come!” muttered Robert in answerjo
his brother’s exolamation. .

Gwyne was not so much astonished as the“.
brothers, for his companion had in a great meas
ure prepared him for the meeting, but the tour .
came upon each other so une
brothers were sitting close to the ear, and 0211- _

’ pen and Gwyne cams faceto face with them the

momeht they entered—that it was embarrassing 
(or all of them. ’ ' ‘ “ '

 

 

ectedly—4he ' r

 

 

» feels towar

 

8 Young Dick Talbot.

Thomas was the first to recover.

All smiles. he rose and extended his hand.

“Why, my dear Mr. Gwyne. this is really
an unexpected pleasure,” he said. “I was not
aware that fyou ever took a night off, enjoying
the sights o the town. It’s very seldom that
do such a thing myself, but the quietest man,
sou know, will go on a lurk once in a while.

1 course, you understand that there isn’t any
need of speakin about this little sort of a spree
at the store. our respected father is very
strict, and has some peculiar ideas about cer—
tain thin 5.”

“You et, he’d kick u arow if he knew of
us being here to-nightl” t e other brother inter-

e .

“No doubt no doubt,” observed Thomas,
withdrawing his hand in some little confusion
as he saw that our hero had no idea of taking

3. _
. “And quite right, too, because, really, we
on ht not to be here. But the mischief is done
an crying over spilt milk will not replace it in
the pitcher again. I sha’n’t yield to the tempta-
tion again. So we’ll say nothing about this little
meetin , eh, Mr. Gwynei” and he leered sug-
gestive y in the face of the other. “ Silence for
silence you know. You keep quiet about our
being ‘here and we’ll be sure not to breathe a
,word to any one that we ever saw you in such a
place. And in fact, when you come to consider
' the matter you have a deal more at stake than
we have. t might cost us our places in your
father‘s emdploy, but from the way 1 know be
you, a discovery might be fatal to
i all your future prospects.” .

“Oh, yes; it is just about as broa as it is
log,” exclaimed the younger brother luntly.
“ on are in more danger than we, so if you,
‘ will 'ust keep quiet, we won’t plash.”

“ either one of you need apprehend danger
from me; I am neither a spy nor an informerl”
young Gwyne replied in cold contem t.

The shot struck fairly home, an it was so

I ‘ unexpected that it made the brothers wince.

Thomas was the first to recover himself, and

‘ he be an to rub his hands softly together.
“ , yes,” he said fawningly, “you are such
a noble young man; you are an honor to your
I spoke foolishly, of course, for I might
have known that there wasn’t the slightest
danger of your betraying the secret. I wouldn’t
ask you to tell a iie for the world, you know,
but as your pa cannot possibly have any sus-

' " - Edens about this little frolic, he will be cer-

iu not to ask any questions. And I shall not
forget the service either, and one of these days
I Will do as much for you.” -

“ You need not be alarmed about the matter.
I shall not probably see my father again for
some time as I am going to leave the city to-
morrow morning.”

“Going away!" cried both the brothers in a
breath,t oroughl astonished bytheintelligence
and heartin delig ted at it, though they were

I , careful not to show it.

“ Yes, it is true."
5 “On your father’s business?” asked the chief
plotter artfully.
_ “ No, sir, upon my own.”

“ You and your respected no hav’n’t aumeied ,

 

I

endeavored to look

I I hope!” and the speaker
i sym athetic.
, “ t would make your heart

glad to know
that we had, I’ll warrant!” our hero exclaimed.
“ Oh, how can you say so?”
“ I say so because you are the snake who has
made all the trouble, you sneaking villainl"
Gwyne cried, hotly.

 

CHAPTER V. 7
run ALTEBCATION.

“ 03, really, Mr Gwyne, you wrong inel”
Thomas exclaimed. “ I wouldn’t injure on for
the world, and I should be very sorr in eed to
learn that there had been any fall ng out be-
tween your respected pa and yourself. There
hasn’t been any such thin , I hope.”

“ You don’t hope so bu quite the contrary!"
our hero exclaimed, bluntly. “ You know very
well that you have been doing everything in
your power for three or four ears to breed
trouble between my father .an myself. You
have been a mischief-maker ever since you have
been in the store and now learn from me that you
have succeeded in your» dirty wet-k. You will
no longer be put to the trouble of playing the
spy and the informer upon me. I have left my
father’s house never to return and 1 think that
in a great measure I can thank you for it, you
miserable sneak 1"

“See here, you’re using pretty strong lan-
guage,” exclaimed the younger brother, a thick-
set, robust fellow, who rather prided himself on
his physical strength.

“Yes pretty strong language and altogether
uncall for," asserted Thomas, who was ‘also
muscular in build.

Now that their plot had succeeded and the
young man had been driven from home they ,did
not think it necessary to longer wear a mask and
were dis sod to show their true colors.

“ You a a pair of contemptible bounds and
both of you ought to be in jail,” Gwyne re-
torted. ,

“What’s that you so. i” cried the younger
brother advancing in a t reatening manner.

“Oh, don’t mind the young whelp,” Thomas
ejaculated ‘ ‘

In our hero’s resent state of mind this ith
was more than a could bear, for his b1 was
almost u to the boiling point when he reflected
that l.“ t ese two rascals he was indebted for
the position in which he now found himself, so
without an instant’s hesitation, with the also of
his open hand he ave Thomas who adad-
vunced closetohim n aui’insolent and threat-
ening way, a most torrib" .lap. v

The effect was as if the ' an had been stricken
by a hand of iron rather- than by one of flesh.
and bone. ' ' '

He staggered backnthe repart of the slap re-
sounding like : pistol‘shot through the room,
and the spot whereon the blow fell became as

going to burst through the skin.

It was the first time that the outh  ever

self was surprised at the eflect, for he was not

 

fully consciousof them power be
sensed. . W

l
i
i,
i
l
in

,.u.-.....—-«.-n—»u.. ..~.

red as fire: it really looked.” if the blood was .

strucka blow in anger in his) 9, and be him- -

 

 

 
 

 wfiwonmww...“ -,.

a .vm- k- mayo“ . ,

'nph

Q...

  

 

Young Dick Talbot. ’ D

 

He was not allowed much time for reflection
though, for when the younger brother perceived
how roughly his relative had been handled, with
a bowl of rage. undeterred by the exhibition
which he had witnessed, he sprung upon young

Gwyne.

It really looked as if he was far more than a
match for the youth, for he was a far bigger
man in every way; but the wa he was re-
ceived made the lockers-on open t eir e es.

Gwyne parried the vicious blows w ich his
antagonist showered upon him with the great—
est ease, and then, when his opponent paused to
take breath, exhausted by the severe exertion,
he dealt hima slap in the face with his open
hand, exactly like the one he had bestowed
upon his brother, only this’ one was a trifle
harder, and the bones of the stricken man’s face
seemed to fairly crack under the stroke. .

He reeled back with a gasp, and then the
other brether, apparently rendered frantic with
the treatment which they had received, drew
an ugly—looking knife, and made a dash at
Gwyne.

The two closed in a de rate struggle, which
lasted but a few secon s, however, for then
Thomas cried out:

“ Ohl heaven, I am cutl”

The antagonists separated, the knits was in
Gwyne’s bind, in the struggle he had succeeded
in disarming his opponent blood crimsoned
the glittering blade, and 'Thomas, throwing

s hands with groans ot pain, sunk to the

floor. r

“Oh, I am killed—I am killed!” he cried.
“ This boy has murdered me I”
, “ As Heaven is my judge, I did not intend to
do it!" Gwyne exc aimed. “I only tried to
take the knit. away from him so that he could
not harm me with it!”

“Was lie! you killed him on pu you

intended to do it. Men, help me to arrest the 1

murderer l” the brother cried, snatching n
:d as it intending to assault the youth

And the rest in the room, with the exception
of Calpen, who was horror-stricken at the tra-
gedy, manifested a disposition to aid Atherford,
who was their chum.

"Stand buck!” cried Gwyne, almost driven to
madness by the fatal accident, for such in truth
it was, for he had not the least intention of
hurting his assailant with the knife, being only

'desirousot avoidin in himself and he
I too caught upachaif'. jury ’

“ Surrender!" cried two or three of the men,
trodnbmg weapons and menacing Gwyn. with

' r" ll

The oath; was frantic, he did not pause to
reflect, t the instinct or salt—preservation told
him to escs at an hazards.

The use is were advancin toward him in
shody, there was a medium window on
his right hand lookingfiinto the back srd.

, He whirled the heavy chair which he had
snatched up around his head, and then threw it
with the force of a batterinf-ram at the group.

Unpre for the nave assault, the went

I down he or. it in a heap, but the bloc ed up

themtothedoorsothet scouldnot

I escape that way. but he had noticed the win-

goevg, and was just in the humor for a desperate

e . .
The house was old, and he judged the window— ‘
fixings were not particularly aiming; so he
jumped headlong at it, and as he had ca Iflated,
carried away the entire concern.

He and the window sashes went into the back
yard together, and, marvelous to relate, the
youth sustained no material damage, landing
on the ground on all tours with the agility of a
cat.

Beyond a few scratches, he showed no signs
of the perilous leap.

Rising nimny to his feet, he ran to the near-
est fence and climbed over it into the next

ard, and so be scaled three fences in succession

fore he attempted to make his way to the V I h I:

. street.

He could hear the cries of astonishment of the ,
fellows, from whom he had so unceremoniously
taken leave, and they ran down into the ya ,
expecting to behold his mangled body, or at
least to find him badly wounded, and discovered»
that he was not there. ’

From the route he had taken—just by accident,

; for in his haste he had not stopped to calculate
! upon the matter—he had at rate the yard of a
house that fronted upon ester street. V »

As it happened, there was a passage straight
through the house to which the ground belonged,
from the yard to the street.

: Neither of the two doors belonging to the

2 entry were locked, and so our hero found no

5 difficulty whatever in making his way from the

[ yard to the street, and on his way he was so
fortunate as not to encounter a single soul. '

- When once‘ in the street, he crossed immeo ,

diatelflto the other side of the way, and turn-
;ing h hack on the Bowery, walked rapidly
JV"?

As was usual at such an hour, the street was
full or pegple, and Gwyn. did not excite the
least atten . V
: He knew that he would have at least ten min-

utes’ start 0! his pursuers, even it they should be
lucky enough to discover over which or the
fences he had clambered, for it was just as
likely that he would go toward Grand street
as in the opposite direction.

At the corner of the first street he turned and
went down a block until he came to Canal, then,
turning to his right, he in effect retraced his
former steps by going direct to the Bowery.

He cro’ssed the great artery and on the right- , _ I

hand side of the way kept on into Chathsm
square. Then thro h Chatham street until he _,
came to the City H park. ' '

Through the park he went, at right angles
from the course he had tollowed,crossed Brosd- 1
way to one of the side streets, and went on until
he came to the river.

He had not taken this route from any particu-

. lar design, but only from a. desire to get as for

own from the scene of the tragedy as ssible.
“ eaven knows I did not want to urt the
man,” he mattered to himself a hundred times
at least as he hastened on his way. 
And it was the truth that he spoke. He had?
not the least intention or injuring tho unfortu-

 

 

 

 

 

' 10

g; '7 ' Young Dick Talbot-

 

nate wretch, notwithstanding that through his
artful schemes he had been driven from his

, , , home.

1‘  Provoked beyond endurance by the man’s
conduct, he had slapped his face, and most cer—
tainly would have been uite willing to give him
a Sound thrashing, but w en the other had drawn
the knife and flung himself upon him with the
fury of aiwild beast, his only thought had been
to disarm the man as soon as possible.

It was through accident, really brought about

‘ by Gwyne‘s endeavoring to defend his own life,

V that the unfortunate blow had been given, but

j  ‘the unhappy youth was not satisfied with this

excuse

 

"‘ I am a murderer,” he murmured, as lie
walked out to the end of one of the piers. “ It
was in self-defense, but I provoked t e quarreL
 I must fly far from here or else pay dearly for
' my rashness.”

  
    
  
  
  
   
     
  
  
   
   
   
   
  
    
   
      
 
    
   

 

CHAPTER VI.
A FORTUNATE CHANCE.

I! was a bright moonlight night, so that all
surroundin objects were plainly visxble, a
beautiful night, for the air was balmy and re-
freshing, and yet our unfortunate hero, as he
“ ‘ leaned against the post at theend of the pier and
gazed down upon the restless walers, felt strong-
ly tempted to leave the pleasant world and find
. rest, for tfulness and a grave beneath the sur-
face of t e heaving tide. .

. i * “I should be safe then,” he murmured; “no
' cruel hands could drag me to a prison, and from
there, perchance, to a scaflold. Asmgle plunge
A and all will be over.”

v It was on] for a moment, thou h, that he al-

, lowed himse f to think of such a t mg. i
I“ No no,” he' murmured, with a shiver of hor-
ror. ‘I That would be a cowardly thing to do;
i a fellow in this world ought not who afraid to
, meet his fate, no matter what it is. It is all
w Very Well for idiots and craven-hearted wretches
to avoid responsibility by making a hole in the
Water, but any one that has t e least'bit of
pluck ought to be ashamed to even think of
In a thing. >

‘ The world is before me and there isn’t the

' ’Ilightest reason whv one false step should rum
* my whole life. Idid not mean to kill the fol-
low; in fact as far as the knife is concerned I
hadn’t the slightest idea of usmg it. all that
I I tried to do was to keep him from cutting me,
’ and it was on] by accident that he got hurt. _
” ,“Of course um I‘ need sorry that the aflair
took lace, and if I «l to do it allover again I
woul act differently. but I was provoked be-
yond all endurance, and I could not help slap-
. ping the fellow’s face; yet at the mostl only in-
- ten ed to give him a thrashing if he dared to
' resent the oflense.

“ I might give myself u and plead that I

only acted in self-defense, suppose; it ought
not to go hard with me under the circumstan-
ces, but, somehow, I can’t bear the thoughts of
, ado ting that course of action.
" ‘ ‘ 0 stand my trial here for murder—in the
; city where I was born and brought up——w_hei'e
‘ people have known me since I was a child—-
:3)“: no! I can never endure that.

"And to think that it should happen too on i

5 the very night that I left my father 3 house-4
i started out into the world to seek my fortune.
A nice beginnin I have made of it,” and the
‘ youth laughed bitterly to himself.
i “ Well. there's no turning back now. Old
1 Father Time always goes orward and new-r
backward in his flight. lot the dead past
bury its dead and let me see what I will do in
the future.

“I must get out of the city; there’s no mis-
take about that and the quicker the better.

“ It will not be safe to wait until morning for
Iby that time the authorities will probably be
on the lookout, and the chances are ten to one
that every depot and ferry-house will be guard-

e .
“There’ll be a man placed at every avenue

leading from the city with instructions to

seize me if I attempt to pass in all probability.
“Atherford’s folks are all wealth and in-

and earth to capture me.

“ And as for my father in such a case as this
—and under the peculiar circumstances of my
partin with him too—he would be certain to
think it was his duty to ape the Roman sire
and give me up to justice with his own hands
if he could possibly get hold of me.

“ No friend have I in the wide world but
myself, and so I must keep up a stout heart,
and not allow fortune to trip up my heels and
con uer me in the first bout.

“ must get out of New York before the
daylight comes or else I am afraid that my
chances for escaping are small indeed.

“It will take time to put the police on the
track and I don’t believe they will be able to do
much of anything until morning.”

And now our hero fell into a brown study—
which was the best way for him to go to evade
the urgent pursuit which he felt certain was sin e
to come.

And while he meditated upon this important
subject a man came strolling down the pier.

At first the youth was inclined to be alarmed,
forJust now he was in the condition of the man
‘described by the poet, who

“ In each bush doth fear an omcer."

But when the man came up and green-d him
with a hearty “good-evening” he saw he was
mistaken. «

The stranger was a middlaaged man thick-
set, plainly but comfortably dressed, looking
like a well-to-do mechanic, and from the pe~
culiar nasal twang to his voice the youth judged
- he was a New Englander. \

“ Fine night, hain’t it?" motioned the man.

“ Yes, very fine night.”

“ If it hadn’t been or the gol—darnedest bit of
‘ luck that ever happened to a critter I should be
i a-looking at the moon now ’wa outside of San-

 

dy Hook ’stoad of on this ’ereb amed old dock I”,

exclaimed the stranger, with considerable as-
i perit . r

i “ that so!” asked e, who, of course,

, did not take the sligiitest interest in the man or , I r_ ‘

his movements, but 9 spoke because he saw that

, he was expected to say something.
“Yes, sir—ee, that‘s jest as sure as shootin’i
Doyou see that .old zundalow of a schooner?”

fluential and they will be sure to raise heaven a ’

 

 

_  V

 

 

 

MM... 4-,; w. 

    

 

 

‘ last on it, and spit it out right—MGM

‘ of the golodarned critter was that he was on the

v\‘

and the man pointed to a vessel lying at anchor
out in the stream.

“ Yes, sir.” V

“She’s a. good seaworthy craft, though she
ain’t han’sum. I’m a judge of sich things," he
continued. “ I’m something of a sailor myself;
kin take my trick at the wheel like an old salt, ‘
and I calculate, too, when a ship-carpenter is
wanted I won’t be fur ahind the lighter.”\‘

“ You’re quite useful."

“Oh, yes! I’m a Jack of all trades—master .-
of none, maybe. That’s the old saying you
know; but it’s a pesky lot of foolishness—like a
heap of other old yarns.

“ Yes, sir-ee, if everything had gone right
that ’ere schooner would be jest a-scootin’ ‘
through the briny deep outside of Sandy Hook
somewhere ’round ’hout this time, with every
stretch of canvas spread, a going for the south-
’ard like all'pOSSessed."

“ How is it that she is at anchor here, then?”

“ Ruml” responded the man, sententiousl .
“That’s the downright. honest truth, sure u
thunder. “ Rum—r-u m,” and the speaker spelt
the word on his finger.

“ I do not understand.” '

You know where Mo—bilo

 

“ She’s for Mo-bile.
is?”
“ Mobile.”
“ Yes, that‘s it~only you don’t ban on to the

Down
South. you know.” ,

“ Yes, in Alabama.”

“ KerrecwMo-bile, Alabama. That is the
way I used to figure it out when [was a younker
and went to the leetle red schoolhouse on the
hill. I’m from Nantucket. Maybe you know
where that is?” r

“ 0h, yes—a great whaling port."

“ Right you are; Nantucket is all whale, and
I’m a. piece of the blubber what has floated off
to foreign ports,” and then he chuckled hoarse—
ly at his own joke.

“That schooner yonder is the Flying Fish,
and a Nantucket man is master on her. He’s
B cousin of mine, and he’s somewhere ’round
this ’tarnel big city as drunk as a b’iled owl;
and that’s the reason I lay it to rum, and there’s
no mistake about it, young man—that’s what’s
the matter. Cargo on board, crew all right,
papers ship—shape, but no skipper. We ought
to have 0t of! at twelve today, to catch the
ebb to be p us out of the boy, but no skipper
turned up.

“We sent out scouts. and all we could learn

tallest kind of a spree. If we could only catch
and put him on board we’d be all right, whether
he was dru uk or sober—but the craft can’t sail
without the captain

' “Some of the boys have got wind of where
he is though, and I reckon he’ll be on board by
midnight, and then we’ll be ofl.”

A wild idea came up in Gwyne’s mind. Sup- ,
pose he could obtain passage on board of this
craft, it would most eflectually baffle all pursuit 1
-—but could it be arrangedl , l

“It is quite unfortunate ” he said. “I hope ‘
the men will succeed in finding the captain. I |
envy you the voyage; it must be very pleasant
wins to the South.”

 

4

Young Dick Talbot.

1 m Abner Shingle, remarked. the

 

1!

“I warrant 9! But I’m bound for a big
iece beyond o—bile. At that ’ere town my
§ogrney really beginl. I’m for Californy,
a

“For California!” exclaimed the youth, his
heart beating high.

“ Yas, sirree, that’s my platform. There‘s a
company going to sail from Mo-hile ’bout the
first of next month, and I'm going with ’em.
Colonel Stoddard’s purify.”

“That’s just where want to go. Do you,
suppose there would be any chance? I’m out of
a situation, and want something to do. I hav’-
n’t a great amount of money, only about fifty
dollars—” I

“See here, younker, I’ve taken quite a fancy
to you, you’re sich a blamed nice talker-you’ve
got the gift of the gab, you have, and don; me
if I don’t help on out. Can you come right
along? ’cos the ap’s liable to arrive ever min-
ite, and jest as soon as we get him on ard,
we’ll up anchor, and let ’er shiver.”

“All I’ve ot in the world is on me, and, as
I’ve no Erien sin the city, I can go immediate-.
ly—I’ve no one to bid good-by to.” ‘ -

“You kin come right along, then! I'll see
that it sha’n’t cost you a cent on board the
schooner, and alter we git to hie-bile I reckon I
kin fix things all right.’

The conversation was interrupted at this
point by the arrival of the men with the ca'p- "
tain. ‘

Twenty minutes later the schooner was on
her way. .

 

CHAPTER VII.
our FOB CALIFORNIA.
As our hero surmised the death of Thomas
Abbot-ford created a great excitement.
The wound had been a mortal one and the m-
jured man had died within ten minutes from
the time he had received the hurt.

The Atherfords were well connected and the; ’

influential relatives of the dead man made a
great time about his sudden taking-OR. '

Young Gwyne was denounced as a cold-
blooded murderer and a. large reward oflered
for his apprehension. / ‘

At the coroner’s in nest, Robert Atherford
and the gamblers who ad witnessedthe affray, .
all intimate associates of the dead man testified'
that Gwyne had provoked the quarrel, had
struck the first blow and that the dead man had
merel drawn the knife to defend h‘imself- from
being rutally beaten, whereupon the other had '
wrested t from his hand and stabbed him.

Cal , of course, told a diflerent story, but
the weight oNhe evidence was against him. ‘ It
was believad that he was tryin to shield his
friend, and so the jury prompt y returned a
verdict of willful murder.

All the 2power of the police was employed to
apprehen the fugitive, but thanks to the for-
tunate chance of our young hero encon' tering
the Nantucket man he was far awn before the "
search begin and the bounding hi1 ows left no
trace bob (1 by means of which he could be .
tracked. " .
The gassage south air-d was a pleasant one, for
as the antucket man, whose name, b the gray,

IOKOODGI'WU ~

    

 

 

  
 
 

 

Young Dick Talbot.

 

The captain, Abner’s cousin, Jonathan Shingle,
was a wholesouled fellow, as good a seamen as
ever trod a deck, and with only a single weak-
ness. and that was and insane desire to go on a
terrible spree when on shore.

Once in blue water he never troubled liquor
nor liquor him.
I It only took him a few hours to sober up, and
“f then when introduced to our hero by Abner
gladl welcomed him on board ship.
r “ his ’ero younker,” said the Nantucket

 

fikeasinged cat, a good deal better than she‘
looked

 man, “ has a big idee of j’ining in a. Californy ;

’ trip. He wants to go out there and pick up
some of those lumps of gold as big as your head,
which they say are lying round loose a—crying
for some one for to come along and pick them
up, dud as I’m an awful lonesum man I told
him to come along and I guessed you wouldn’t
' be steep on him ’bout the passage—money.”

“ Oh, you’re quite welcome, youngster, and I
don’t keer ’bout any money, that is it you’ve a
mind to give us a. hand now and than if we need
it,” responded the skipper open-hearted and
v generous like a true son of t e sea.

lad to secure a passage under )uch easy con-
, itions. » ‘

“By the way, I never thought to ask your
name,”observed the Nantucket; man abruptly.
’ “Mine is Abner Shingle and this ’ero A No. l
'skipper will howl like all possessed if you call
him J onathan.” '

V Our hero had never thought about a name
but nowtthat the question was put, be sawa
.‘ once that it would never do to give his own.
‘1‘ Mobile was quite a long distance from New
', chrk, it was true, but still there were regular
x 1 means of communication betWeen the two
3,- - , cities, and the youth thought it was more than
' v likely that the police would send his name and
-v - description all ovar the land. To give his own
appellation then was dangerous. and so he spoke
, the first thatcame up in his mind. '
“ Talbot, you can call me Talbot,” he replied.
“ That
. remarked.

  
  
   

  
   
  
 
 
  
 
   
    
    
     
 

 

50f some craft that sailed from New York.
Mebbe a relation of cum?"
-,~ “No, sir, I havent any relatives. I am all
’ 1 Alone in the world.”
3 “ Then he couldn’t have been our father, of
" tonne, though it ’pears to me t at on favor
,5 him a. sight; his name was Jack,  don’t dis-
. remember."
The skip r’s memory was a little hazy in
regard to 9 man.
, ’ “My name is Richard—Dick I’m commonly
v called.”
, Andthls was the way in which the name was
g glVen, destined in after years to be one of the
r most noted in the annals 'of the Golden State.
' r “And I haven’t any father,” he continued.
_V , . Thlswastrue enough under thecircumstances,
, considering that he had been driven forth from
the. home of his ohildhoodand out upon the
more: of the world.-

 

To this the youth readily agreed, only too .

 

ain’t a bad name to tie to," Abner
, ovary two-legged human critter plays keerds;
 “Talbot?” observed the skipper, ” it seems to ‘
me as if I {had known a man by that name‘
; onc’t,and it ’pears to me that he was the master l

 

0n the voyage Dick, as we shall hereafter call
our hero, did his best to make himself useful,
out of pure gratitude for the favor that
had been shown him, and as he was a naturally
handy lad, gifted too with unusual strength and
adroitness. by the time the schooner got into
the Gulf of Mexico he had become quite expert
in the sailor’s trade, and as both the skipper and
the Nantucket man remarked for a “green
hand” he did better than an man they had
ever seen..and the captain furt or said that in
regard to charging the youn ter gassage-
mone , he guessed that, by rig ts, t e boot
woul be on the other leg, and ’bout a month’s
wa es would be due.

, he trip had made a great change in the

outh’s personal appearance too. He had

,come bronzed by t 0 sun, filled out consider-
able, and by the time they got into Mobile
Buy, our hero felt that no one would be able to
recognize in the sun—kissed sailor lad, the ale-
faced fugitive who had fled from New ork
like a thief in the night.

The passage had been a pleasant one; both
wind and weather had been favorable, and so
the crew had a good deal of time to themselves
and in order to while it away all sorts of
games had been called into play.

Cards and checkers were i e main stand;bys,
and with the painted pasteboards Dick easily
succeeded in astonishing all on board.

Both the skipper and the Nantucket man
grided themselves upon bein good card-players

ut the youth soon convinc them that he was
their master. '

He was such an exceedingly skillful player
that if luck ran at all even t e other two stood
no chance at all with him.

The games were all for “ fun,” no money be-
ing wagered, but after some time, when the
fact became apparent that there wasn’t a man
on board who was a match at cards for the
youngstor, as they all called him, a brilliant idea
seized upon the Nantucket man, who prided him~
self upon his fertile invention.

“Say! I’ll tell you what we’ll do!” he ex-
claimed. “ Down here inithis ’ere sunny South,

poker is the ame they most hump themselves
u on, and in aliforny too. the feller what can’t

ny a good game of poker is no account at all.

ow I’m a pretty hefty poker-player myself.
I use to be a eat for a northern machiner
house that ha a large southern trade and
truiveled all over the South and so got posted on
po rer.

“ Now, poker, you know, is different from the
usual run of games, and as far as my experience
goes in oker the man who kin cheat the best
without sing found out is the best layer.”

“ B‘pose we sail in on poker, we k n‘use beans
instead of money and so combine amusement
and: instruction.’

All thought that it when good idea and so the

poker playing commenced.

This was a game of which Talbot knew noth<
ing, for ker was not a common game in the
Northa the time of which we write, but he
soon learned, “the ropes.” as the skipper re-
marked and as he was so marvelously skilled

wmammummwmcbmn

 

. mm was».

 

funké-iim... .

 

 
 

 

"‘ "- :_.

i
i
!
él
l

. ing his tho hts.

 

“v i ‘ Young Dick Talbot.

  

   

 

the most bare-faced manner without any one I

of the party being able to detect him.

In about two days Dick won all the beans
that there were on board.

Then they were divided again and in a shOrfar
time than before the youth had them again ' '
in his possession.

“ Durned if on ain’t a reg’lar blister in hand-
ling keordsl” bner exclaimed.

‘ I never saw anything like it in my life and
I’ve seen some prett big games in this ’ere
South,” the skipper a mitled.

The crew too were of the same opinion.

The night that the schooner ran into Mobile
buy, it being bright moonlight, Abner and our
hero stood in the fo’castle, watching the distant
lights of the city. .

"Say, Dick, I‘ve got a might big idee !”_ the
Nantucket man observed abrupt y, after quite a
lon silence. I

fie youth had observed that he was cogitat-
ing intently and so had refrained from disturb-

You are mous for your good ideas, Abner,"

responded Dick, who had a genuine respect for

the ability of the man.

“ You haiu’t 0t but ’bout fifty dollars fur to ‘

carry you to C iforny?”
“ hat is all." .

f‘ And I reckon the tarifl will be ’bout a hun-
dred and fifty.” ,

“ Then I willbe a hundred short.”

"Yes, and to say nothing ’bout clothes and
'a1 goo’gl outfit of we’pons which you ought to

ave. -

“ That prospect is not inviting.”

“ Oh, yes it is, red-hot. You ought to have
three hundred at the least, for after you git to
San Francisco you will need money to take you
oft—count?i to the diggings. NowI kin help you
son a lttle, but couldn’t spare more ‘n a
bun red: but I’ll ive yaw an idee wuth five.

for some of t ese o-bilians at poker, and
clean ’em outi”

CHAPTER VIII.
m moans.

Tm: idea seemed to be feasible, and the youth ‘

pondered over it for a few moments.
“ Do ou think I am good player enough!”
he ask at last. r

“Sal-tin! There isn’t any discount onthat. i

I’ve been here afore, and I know all about it.
You’re in a tight place, you know, and you
have got to git out of it some way. It’s no use
to stnkeaplace like San Francisco unless you’ve
got some rocks in your pocket.

“They are sharks out there, every man-Jack
of. them. It’s each cuss for himself, and Old
Nick for them all. It’s a hard place, tram all
accounts; more drinking and gambling and
fighting apd sich deviltr , than a man could
shake a stick at in a man of Sundays.

“It’s the kind of place that a man wants to
go into well-heeled with money, or else he’ll
stand a mighty poor show.”

"I an pose it is, from what I have heard,"
observ the youth, thoughtfully.

“ But it’s the place to make money,” his com-

‘sdded. “ . they tell me that the

I,

‘ Ikin tell you that any man that kin

men out there don't think any more of a dollar ;
than we folks in the East here of a fivecent '~
piece.”

“Easily got easily gone, you know. I sup—
pose that is a true saying the world over.” 

“ I guess if I git my noks upon a big pile of
gold, will hold on to it like death toadead
nig erl” the Nantucket man remarked. I v,

“ ut about this poker- laying; do you think >
it is exactl right?” Dic asked, after a. brief »
silence. “ never played for any money, in my 1.,
life. It would be gambling, you know.” ' ‘ ‘-‘

“Yes, that’s what we’d call it tu hum, but
these cusses down in this beni hted region don’t»
look onto it in that light. Al the male critters
down here play from the time that they are
knee~high to a grasshopper. They call it amuse-
ment. Why, I’ve seen a ieller lose a hull plan-
tation, niggers and ‘all. and laugh as if he
thought it was a pesky big joke. There’s an old
saying, you know. ‘ ‘ hen you’re in Turkey, do
as the turkeys do.’ Now I don’t really think it 1 2
would be much of a sin for you togoin and 7: 
skin some of these cusses, who think they know -~ '
how to play keerds with the man that invented
them.

"I know that I ain’t a-taiking to you jest ex- »
acltllry as a Sunday-school superintendent would '1
“ I ain’t a-standing up for the morality of the
thing. It's pesky poor business, mighty mean,
and no mistake about it, and if I saw any other
way for you to git the money so you could go
ahead as you oughter, I wouldn’t advise it.” 

“I do not know of any, and if Ido notget
the money by some such means, I do not think ’
I can raise it.”

“That’s my platform exactly!” Abner ex;
claimed. “In my opinion playing keerds, or .
any other kind of game for money, is all-fired '
poor business but there are times in this life » .
as we preambulate through this 'ere vale 
tears, when a man is obliged to do some mean 1
work, and, as we can't help it, the best way is ' .»
to buckle right at it. I’ll take a part of the sin "
on my shou ders, for I’ll be eternally consumed
it I don’t take a. hand in the thing myself.” "9 ‘ "

And so it was arranged between the two that ‘_
Abner should hunt u some nice little poke-ix.
party so as to give albot a. chance to make
enough money to covor his expenses.

A: the Nantucket man shrewdly observed:

" You ain’t so badly OR; you were kinder ',
worryin the other day because you hadn’t any
trade an had been wasting your time at clerk— .
ing, so that it on were in a ti ht place you "
wouldn’t be like y to get a. job rig t awe. , but ;
ande 3;
keerds as you kin needn’t to worry himself so
long as he remains in a civilized land.

“Any man that kin turn four jacks. hand—
running, as you kin, and without a. soul being
able to see where they come from, is too scien—
tific sense to beallowed to starve. You’ll git ,,
igong all right, don’t you be afeared of that. .‘ .

ou’re a enius in that line; I’ve run afoul of;
some pesEy smart follows in the keerd busi-
ness, but you kin jest flax the daylights out of
any of them."  .

[tor the schooner was made fast to thed ;
Abner and Dick went ashore to see how tin:

 

 

 
  
   
  
   
    
   
   

 

14

Young ma: raw. ‘ V ‘-

 

 

 4' expedition was getting on which they had come I

to 'oin. ,

éolonel Stoddard was a wiry, weather—beaten ,
man of sixty, who had been one of the pioneers
wlten the gold excitement had first broken
on .

He had been fortunate, made his “pile” and ;
returned home, but after a few months had 5;
wearied of the quiet hum-drum life and had de~ g
termined to get up a large expedition and re-
turn to the Pacific 510 e.

_, . His home being in obile, that city had been
selected for the starting-point.

A schooner considerably larger, than the Fly-
ing Fish, had been chartered to take the ad-
venturers to Panama, then the programme was
to march across the isthmus—and on the Pacific
~ shore to take the steamer which ran regularly
from there to San Francisco.

The colonel had got together quite a company;
‘ as he had been successful in his first expedition
it was reasoned that he was a. good man to head
another.

The Flying Fish had got in just in time, for all
, preparations had been made for the start and

he colonel expected to sail in the morning.

 

 

« \ “Gosh! we haven’t any time to lose!” Abner
exclaimed when he learned this fact. “We’ll ?
have to hunt a poker-party, somewheres.”

The expedition was to consist of twentyflve
men besides the colonel, the schooner being just
able to find accommodations for that number,
pretty bad accommodations, and mighty well
‘ crowded, as the skipper of the craft observed.
The Nantucket man made (he twenty-fourth,
,, and as it luckily hap ened the twenty-fifth
 man,a young lawyer rom ontgomery, Ala-
: hams, had got upon a terrible spree after arriv-
ing in Mobile, from the results of which he was
laid up and the physicians in attendance declar-
‘ ed it would be as much as his life was worth for
him to attempt to leave his bed under a week.

. So there was an opening left for our hero and
when he was pro osed to the Colonel, the veter-
an accepted blm mmediately.

, The adventurers were scattered all over the
city, the m ority of them were Mobile men
and nearly a1 pretty well-to-do.

2 Their chief rendezvous wa at a French 33--
icon and restaurant on one of the main streets
of the town known as the Hotel La Belle.

After arranging with the colonel for Talbot
to join the exped tion, Abner paid his own pas-
_ sage-money and twent -flve dollars on account

of the boy’s ticket, s ating that his protege
would huntu his friends that night;and get
the balance 0 the money from them and pay it
in the morning.

, he colonel said this was perfectly satisfao
to but after they got ou side our hero in
amusement asked his friend how he came to
make such a statement.

 

     
  

“I haven’t any friends, you know, in the
fin; whgol haven’t even an a uaintance ex—
fim :he ya on board of the sc ooner,” Dick

“ Sonny on are a leettle out in your calcula-
tions,” the antuckct man replied with a broad
‘ . ‘_‘I guess thatil we succeed in striking
right party some teller is going to advance
you money enough to see you throuzh. wd~,u

that cuss won’tbe your friend, I’d like to know
what in thunder a friend is, anyhow l” ,

The youth could not help laughing at this ar-
gument.

“Oh, you kin laugh but that is good, sound
boss sense i” Abner declared.

The two Went straight to the Hotel La Belle
as the colonel had told them that most of the
adventurers would likely be found there; the
Nantucket man was well acquainted with a do-
zen or so of them, and that is how he happened
to come clear from New York to oin the arty.

Ashe had expected, near all 0 the pi grims
were in the saloon, and the soon made the two
strangers welcome, althoug , as the party were
main y composed of men who rather prided
themselves upon their blend and birth, they did
not take much notice or the bronzed youth,
whom they regarded as a sort of a. sailor chap.

Our hero was not at all offended at this, for he
shrunk from observation, and did his best to
keep in the background, being afraid that some
one might reco mze in him the fugitive who had
fled from New ork under cover of the night.

In reality, there wasn’t the least danger of
this, for at the time of which we write it was a
long and tiresome journey from New York to
Mobile, and the police system was not sowell
arranged as it is now, when descriptions of all
persons accused of great crimes who seek to
avoid arrest by flight, are speedily telegraphed
all over the country. '

It was the adventurers’ last 111' ht on shore,
sndthey were celebrating it in a fitting man-
ner; most of the part were chatting in the sa-

‘ 10011, but a select few ad adjourned to aprivate

apartment in the second story of the hotel.
where, in company with some of the bloods of
the town, they were engaged in a friendly
game of poker, playing really more for amuse-
megt than money, for they were on a quarter
an .

This was the party that the Nantucket man
had been looking for, and being a uainted
with some of them, his coming was cor mlly re<
ceivsd. .

“ Hello, you slab-sided Yankee I” cried one of
the leadin ligllim of the party, a jovial fellow
known as no eyton, whom tradition said had
once studied medicine, hence his name; but, as
he always observed, he had never studied
enough to hurt him. “You’re just the man we,
have been looking for! You have made about
sixteen fortunes out of us careless, improvident
Southerners,1 and here’s a chance for you to lose
some of it ike a gentleman. Sit down, you
Connecticut nutmeg, and give us an opportunity
to skin you alive.” ,

A burst of laughter greeted this sally.

CHAPTER IX.
a LITTLE GAME.

“ 1’! your man if’ Abner responded with also-
rity. “But as for skinning me I reckon you
will not get enough hide and taller to pay ye
for. the trouble of the job, for I’ve jest come
from Colonel Stoddard, having anted up) In
passage-mono , and I guess it wouldn’t teak
an elephant’s ck to carry my cash now.” ,

There was another general laugh at this and
Peyton responded:

 

.,.r

  

Anon-"£5 *

mm W“? mung—s...‘ .. , , A «-

 

 

 



 

 

' he
tu

Young; Dick Tum.

s... ..._. mm

    

18

 

“Ah, that’s the way you always talk! you
wouldswear you hadn't any money if you car-
ried the United States bank in your pocket.
But sit down and take a hand, even if you
haven’t got over ten dollars to lose. This is the
last night we will agent! upon spore for some
time, you know.” eyton was one of the ad-
venturers; in fact, after the colonel he was the
leading man in gettinglup the expedition.

“And, by the by,” 9 continued looking in-
quiringl-v at Talbot who was still in his sailor
suit, which he had purchased from one of the
crew of the schooner, being afraid to come
ashore in his own clothes for fear a description
of him might have been sent to the city, and the
sailor rig so changed his appearance that he felt
pretty certain he would not he recognized even
if the police had been warned to be on the look-
out for him, “is this youngster going to try his
luck in the golden land!”

“ Yes, this is a particular friend of mine, en.
tlemen; gentlemen, allow me to introduce r-
Richard Talbot to you,” Abner said.
bot happened to run across me in New York
jest as I was on the int of sailing, and made
up his mind to try or gold. Mr. Talbot has
been playing sailor to amuse himself on the
voyage, and as we were in a hurry‘to find out
how things were in the city, we came ashore
the moment the vessel made fast, and he never
stoupped to change his clothes.”

, his explanation was readily believed, for
there was something in Talbot’s manner which
plainly told that he was far more than a corn
mon sailor.

All the gentlemen bowed in response to the
introduction.

“ Will you try a hand in the game, Mr. Tal-
bot?” Peyton asked. “ I have succeeded in get-

ting lpossession of about all the loose change
that t ese gentlemen have to spare, and I am
has for more victims.”

“ am afraid that like my friend here”-——and
placed his hand on the shoulder of the Nan-
c at man, “ I haven‘t much money that I can
afford to lose.” ‘
“9h, we’ll make it e for you,” the other
replied. “ The ante is on y a quarter and the
limit is fixed at twenty-five dollars; we are not
really gambling, you know, just playing for
amusement—40 pass the time away, not for
moneybonly enough to make the game inter-

081.1% Y
“ ell, Dick, I guess we might as well take a
hand in the fun, seeing that it will be the last
0 Enos we will have to play keerds on terra-
flrma for some time.”

" I’m agreeable," responded our hero.

So the two joined the party; room was made
for them at the table, two of the gentle men relin-
quished their seats, “regularly cleaned out,” as
one of them expressed it.

" I give u fair warning, he s,” observed
Peyton in h
magnificent run of luck to-ni ht, and I'm bluff—

. ing worse than a Georgia ma or."

“ We’ll do our best to hold our own ag’in’
you ” the Yankee remarked.
Then the game proceeded.

For three or four hands our hero olaved verv -

“ Mr. Tale,

0
jovial way, “that ’m having a Ii

cautiously, so as to get an idea how the game
was runnin before he ventured his money. ,

The skill hat the youth possessed with cards ,: 
was really wonderful. 3

It came natural to him, and he himself would - ‘
have been puzzled to account for the calcula-
tions which he invariably made with lightning- - 
like rapidity. . 1“

Apart from his manual skill in handling the
cards—and no juggler who depended upon ,
tricks with cards to gain his bread could do
better with them than our hero—ho had 8. won- ’
derful facul for calculating upon the instant
the chances o the game.

He had carefully watched the play, al‘id by
the time the first half— hour was reached he had
come to the conclusion that the game was a per-
fectly fair one.

In this he was correct, for all the players
were gentlemen, not one of them particularly
expert with cards, no gambler among them,
and Peyton owed his success chiefly to the fact
that he was a better player than the rest, being
more acquainted with the value of hands; and 1
then, too, he was not afraid to “blufl ” the rest
once in a while when the humor seized him, and
so on several occasions succeeded in capturing .
the “ pot " by sheer audacity. ’

In such a company as this our hero disdained r '
to avail himself of his skill in manipulating the
pasteboards; he could easily, when it came his
turn to deal. have arranged it so that he would
know exactly what cards went into the hands > r
of the different players, so expert was he at this
sort of thing, and if he had been Playing with‘
men eager to avail themselves 0 any and all .
devices to win, he would not have hesitated for
a moment to pit his skill against‘theirs; but on
the present occasion, much as he wanted money,
he would have deemed it nothing more than
robbery to take an unfair advantage of the gen-y
tiemen with whom he was playing. ' . .

So all he had to depend upon was his superior
skill as a player. a

As the game progressed, and Abner saw that
his protege was not winning lar ely, he began
to get uneasy. He had been n er the impress
sion the youth Would rake in the money from ,_
the start; but being a,pretty fair pla or him- .
self, he came to the conclusion that» uck had
not been with the youth. ' I

When the opportunity came though, our hero
was uick to improve it.

He d kept a close watch upon Peyton, and
beings shrewd reader of the human face di-
vine, fancied he could detect by the counw
tenance of the gentleman Whether he really had 
anything in his hand worth betting upon, or
was merely “ bluiiln ,” and so when he caught
some good cards he etermined to test whether i
there was any truth in his belief.

Peyton bet quite heavily. and the rest all
“ passed ” except Talbot. He felt sure from
the expression upon the young lawyer's fan
’ that he was only “blufling,” so “went for” ‘
' thi‘aientleman.

hen the limit was reached is Peyton our J

hero promptly “saw” him, an called for a

“I? it hands“ a r had 1 or
s e anticipate . eyton onyapairr

x lives. while the youth displayed three tons. .

 

   
     
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
   
    

 

 
 

 

L Young  Talbot.

 

 

 

The lawyer was nettled. It was the first time
he had been beaten on a bluff, and he didn't like
it, and the fact too that his successful opponent
was on] a lad added to his chagrin.
I “ We 1, young man, you succeeded in getting
the best of me that time, but I’ll get even with
you,” he remarked. .
’ A few more hands were played without any-
thing especial occurring, and then Peyton hav-
, ing the luck to get three sevens, came to the
conclusion that they were good enough to cap-
ture the pile.
, Some of the others were dis sad to contest
this, and so there was some live y betting until
the Iimit was reached, and then, when there
was a show of hands, the youth again was for-
tunate enough to take the money, having four
' three~spots.
Peyton was more annoyed this time than be-
fiore and he plainl showed it. |
“ Jove. old fe low 1” he exclaimed, address- ‘
ingA nor, “I invited you and your friend to
sit down with the idea of skinning you within
wan inch of our life, but from the way things
are going it really looks as if, instead of er- 4
form ng he operation, I shall be the victim. ’ 
“ It's nothing when you get used to it, as the l
cook said to the ee when it remonstrated i
,- ainst being prepared for the frying-pan,” the
antucket man responded, with one of his
comical grins. l
, His protege was now a little over fifty dollars
, ahead, and the prospect seemed good for the l
v success of his plan. 
,' Si: or eight more hands were played, but only
a few dollars were risked on an or them, and
Peyton succeeded in winning the pots but
,. one, which fell to Abner’s share.
“My luck is beginning to return, I believe,”
he remarked, as be dealt the cards, it being'his ;
turn to deal, and old player as he was, he could i‘
not lreplaces a twinkle of the eyes as he looked at ,
an . r
38' had four kings and a ten-spot. ‘
, Contrary to his usual custom he was rather ,
[shy about betting, for he wished to lure the 1
rest up to the limit, wanting to catch as much '
-mone in the pot as he could, for with his al- J
m‘ost nvincible hand—there being but one bet- I
*1 ter in the ack—~he felt sure of victory.
,But, to is disgust, all went out but the youth.
’ Talbot promptly responded to every bet until i
the limit was reached.
.There were about sixty dollars in the pot.
“ 1 say, youngster, I can clean you out this
:' time,” Peyton exclaimed” “What do yous y 1
. to betting an even hundred outside of thelimit? ’ '
- “I’ll do it if ou’ll allow me to throw out One
we and take t t queen there,” Talbot replied,
inting to a queen that had been accidentally
3° ,
» faced.” ~

 

  
   
   
  
  
  

V Peyton guessed by this that queens were the ’
. best is opponent had, : nrl so he consented.

‘ V Then the mono was put up. 
‘ P9 on slappe down his» our kings with an x

nil? ,0 triumph, but imagine his disgust, and the
, rise of all the rest, when the youth (luietly .
lei tour-aces and the queen upon the tab
pot in mine," he said.

0.
. “Imam

~—

/

"'fl
. I.
a

   
 

1 way,” our hero re lied.

CHAPTER I.
IN SAN FRANCISOO.
Pnnoxlenned back in his chair folded his

arms in his lap and stared at the cards fora mo- ':
ment, while the rest looked on, amazed at the 3

unexpected result.

About the most astonished man of the lot was 

Abner. He had
when his pro
of the young
Peyton, havin
had learned Wisdom and would not hot so large-
ly if he hadn’t fel urothat his band could not
be beaten.

fairly trembled in his shoes

Peyton was completely astonished. He had ,3
offered to bet the hundred dollars outside of the “

limit, with the idea his opponent would honoured
by the offer into the belief that he held an in-

vmcible hand, and when the youth accepted the " '

bet with the proviso that the faced queen be

given to him, the lawyer was certain that :
queens were the best he had, and, as kings beat .
aqueous, he jum

d at the chance.
“ Well, may
su rise 1” Peyton exclaimed at last.

“ be money is fairly mine, I believe,” the T.

youth remarked in his quiet way.
“ Oh, es, there isn’t any question about that.
I dealt t e cards myself, so there isn’t the shadow
of a doubt that everything was fair and above
board; but I say, what in the deuce did you
want the queen for when on had four acesl”
The youth laughed, an

which Peyton had fallen.
“ Oh, just a fancy," Talbot replied.

“ Well, young man, it is a. good thing for me 

that you didn’t press me to bet more money, for
if you had, you could have broke me if I Owned
the whole State, for I would have been willing
to bet it all upon my hand, particularly after

ou wanted the queen. But rake in the money;
t’s ours, sir, and fairly won, but I don’t see
wh on earth you want to go to California for.
A fellow that can play cards as well as you can
:3ka, all the money he wants right here in Me-

i e.’ ' ,

“I would prefer to. make money some other
“ This is the first time
that I‘ ever (plays cards for money in my life,
and I woul n’t have played two-night 'only I’m
rather short of cash, and really need money to
buy supplies for the trip.”

“You ll make a fortune in California without
fold, it you choose to
aying, and an time
willing to go in bet-

bothering yourself to dig
devote yourself to card-
you want a hacker who

tom dollar on your ability to clean out a raft of ‘

poker—players, just call on me,” the young law-
yer remarked. ‘

Then he looked at his watch, saw that it was
after midnight, and suggested that the party
had better adjourn.

This idea met with the approbation of the
rest, and the com any dispe .

Abner and Ta bot returned to the schooner
and great was the rejoicing a ' ong the crew

when they heard the story 0 the youth’s ad-,
van on. v
Durinztbevoyszoallonboardof them; ,

a so boldly accepted the banter '
wyer, for he was afraid that »
been caught twice on a bluff, ’

be hanged if this isn’t a regular 1

in fact there was a ,
broad rin upon the face of evory one at'tlie ,,
table, or all understood nowabout'the trapmto 

,-., , «g u, my:

 

 

 

mun-all

 

  
 

page» on“! 5.2!.

HIS

Am

 

  

 

 

4

 
  
  

Young Dick Talbot.

 

17

 

Fish had learned to like the youth and there '

wasn’t one of them that did not wish him all
possible success.

The two slept that night aboard the schooner ,

and earl in the morning they visited Colonel
Stoddar , Talbot paid the rest of his passage
money, and then, still accompanied by his frien l
and aided by his advice, went to the stores and
purchased the articles that the Nantucket mun
regarded as being necessary for the trip.

At noon the expedition sailed. ‘

Lon and tiresome was the journey, tiru
larlyt a march over the isthmus of anamn.
which cost some valuable lives, but both our
hero and the tough Yankee were fortunate
enough to escape finding a lonely grave in that
unknown land, so dangerous With its body-de—
stroying fevers to the unacclimated stranger.

No event worthy of particular mention _oc-
curred on the journey. although eyer, thmg
Was strange and odd to the young New orker.

In due time the steamer which conveyed the
adventurers u the Pacific coast sailed through
the “Golden ate,” the far-famed entrance to
the harbor of Ban Francisco, and came to
anchor.

The wonderful cit , which, like the magic
structures told of n the Eastern tales, had
sgrun up almost in a single night, was then
t rob ing in the very hight of the gold fever,
and the two friends when they came ashore
found themselves in the midst of a scene of great
excitement.

There were very few substantial buildings in
the town, nearly all the houses being composed
of rough, unplnned boards, put together in the
most careless fashion, and at least one third of
the inhabitants of the place were living in
tents.

Such a wild demoralizing city the world had
“133 if“ be 3m bli 1 i h

n ingan am 11 wentono n nt e
face of everybodgy. g p9 y

Almost every saloon in the town had a gaming
room attached to it, but what most astonished
the new-comers was that ever one seemed to
have plenty of money to lose, or these dens of
cm were crowded to repletion all the time.

Men really waited their turns at the,bars to
get adrink, and at the tables to be allowed a

chance to play, exactly the same as at a. post- I

office or barber shop.

Colonel Stoddard’s bargain with the adven-
turers was merely to convey them to San Fran-
msco: there his responsibility ended and each
man was free to go where he liked.

The colonel himself and ten of his particular
friends were bound for a mining-camp on the
head-waters of the Mariposa river, known as
Frenchman’s Flat, where Stoddard had made a.
big strike some time before on the occasion of
his first visit to the Pacific coast, and after con-
siderable deliberation Abner and our hero
determined to accumpany the colonel as ho
assured them the digger were rich, and in fact
declared it was his lot there was no better
point in California to make money.

The steamer had arrived at quite an early
hour in the morning, and the colonel, who had
considerable business to attend to in the city
announced that he would not be able to not

awa until the next day. so that all of his party
won (1 have ample time to see the sights of the
gold metropolis .

The colonel recommended all of the party to
put up at a big boarding tent kept by a friend
of his, where meals a d a bed could be pro-
cured for fifty cents apiece.

Having made arrang ments at this place, the
Nantucket man and our hero sallied out to see
the town.

At the time of which we write, the gold ex-
citement was at its hight, and the city Was
crowded with as motley a population as ever
the sun shone upon.

1 The majority of the men sported bu beards,
were neither coats nor ves a stalked
lthrough the streets with pis I“ knives

3 belted openly to their sides.

It was not a place to delight the heart of a
quiet man, for there were a dozen rows 9. day,
to say nothing of the night, and the antagonists
were just as ready to use their weapons as their
ton use and fists.

“ tell you what it is, Dick.” the Yankee re-
marked, after they had strolled around for a
l couple of hours and surveyed the busy, bustling

town, ” this here is a place where a man can’t
afford to let his tongue wag just as it pleases,
unless he’s chain-lightning on the fight. And a
feller to hold his own in this cussed crowd ought
to be able to handle his we’pons jist as well as
‘ his fists, for I notice these chaps are mighty apt
l to go for their toad-stickers and their shootin’-
irons the minite they get to jawing one an-
other.”
1 “Yes, it seems to me that it is one of the
‘ kind of places where a man makes money by
minding his own business,” Talbot observed.
" That’s so, by gosh i” Abner declared. “It’s
- the hardest lace I ever struck, or beam tell
on, either. h , some of these big fellersswasz
r gering around 001: as if they was jest boiling
over for a fight!”
“ You can t always tell from a man’s appear—
ance whether he means business or not,” the
, youth replied. “The loudest talkers are gen-
erally the poorest fighters; and I guess that
some of those fierce~looking fellows, with their
big beards, hats cocked over their eyes, weap-
ons at their side, and a swagger as much as to
say, I’m the boss of the crowd, would be apt to
come down in their pretension if they happened
,torun across a man whom they saw wasn’t
i afraid of them.”
. “ Mebbe they would—mebbe so,” observed
' the Yankee, with a wise shake of the head, “ l.
have see’ jest sich things afore. I allers used to
notice, when I was aboy, you couldn’t tell ’bout
u chicken's fighting capabilities by the loudness
0! his crow.”

“ I fancy that men are 1pretty much like
chickens in that respect. be men who talk
the loudest are generally the ones who do the
least. And if you notice, you will see that
these swaggering fellows don’t seem to get into
any trouble.”

“ That’s so, sun as you’re bornlbnt I kinder
guessed the rest were afraid of ’on and gi’n

em a wide berth. Didn’t you hear that cuss a

while 0 a uting ’bout he w- a red-hot
master‘fi‘o’ln mar rlvsmnd bu it aller-

   

 

   

made him sick if he didn’t have a man furI
breakfast at least once a week?”
“ Oh, yes, I heard him, but I came to the com 1
clusion that he was only talking for the pleasure ‘
of hearin his own beautiful voice and if any
one shoul want to take him up, he’d be willing
to creep out of the smallest kind of a hole to
avoids. quarrel, if he thought the other man
really meant business.”
, “ Mebbe you’re right ’bout it: there’s no tell- °
ing, you know, until you try it, and between
yo‘ui and’lnge fad thte bed- ost, I ain’t so dumed
cu ous u l as o n m recious rson
for to find out.” 8 y p w 1

CHAPTER XI.
AN INrnRLornn. 1

BY this time it was high noon, and as the two
were some distance from the boarding tent
,where they had taken breakfast, the Yankee,
who was a hungry sort of mortal, sug ested that
it would be a (good idea to step into t e nearest
testament an

Talbot had no objection to this, 'and so the l

pair entered the first eating-saloon they came ‘ reaching nearlyto his thighs,breec

across.

 

Young Dick Talbot;

It ain’t often that you get a chance to buy

‘ champagne by the lass.”

This was the trut i; at that time in‘Snn Fran-
cisco, it made no difference what you called for
in the shape of drink, the price was the same;
“ two bits” covered the expense. .

The beer was placed before the two and Ab-
ner, who was an observant fellow, remarked to

a his companion that the man would sell twice as

much beer if he only filled his glasses.

Then the two lifted their glasses and the Yen—-

kee winked his left eye and observed: “Well,
here’s looking at youl’ “

But our hero was not destined to enjoy that
glass of beer, for just as he nodded in return 0;
the Nantucket man’s salutation, a huge, dirty
hand came over his shoulder and snatched the
glass without the least bit of ceremony.

Turning quickly, the youth found himself
confronted by a burly, rufflanIy—looking fellow
with a bloated face, the lower part of which

‘ was covered with a huge heard of tawny hue,
. ; no two hairs of which seemed to grow in the
get some dinner. 1 same direction.

The fellow was roughly dressed huge boots,
hes so stained
l that it ,would have puzzled a conjurer to have

It was rather a mean. 10"" P1809, 38 they dl” ‘ guessed the original color; a flannel shirt which

covered otter they had entered; still there were
quite a number of patrons within, and the
, seemed to be dispatching the food with as muc

enjoyment as though they were in a palace. 1

, the Nantucket man observed to his companion
after they had entered and taken a look around.
“No not much.” r
“Mebbe the fodder’s good, though. I guess in
this here country you can’t tell much ‘bout any-
thing by the way they show u . Like a singed
 cat, the thingjmay be a good eal better than it
looks. Bay, ick, will you have a glass of beer
to give you an appetite for your dinner?"
‘ I had just as soon haven glass of water," the
5 ,youth responded, being extremely temperate in
all his habits.
, “Try a glass of soda then, but for goodness’
sake don’t say anything ’hout a glass of water
- when there is any such gun as this ’round.
, The ’11 think we’re greenhorns in a minite.”
“ don’t care what they think; what business
' is it of theirs what we drink?”
_ “ None at all, of course, but this is such a
pesky sort of a town that I think it is best not to
attract any more attention than one can help,"
the Yankee replied, in his cautious way.
“ Possibly you are rightgyou have seen a great
 deal more of life than I. so you ought to know
about it. I’ll take a glass 0 beer then, so as not
to be out of the fashion.” ’
The two advanced to the bar, along which a
‘ string of customers were grouped so many as to
 keep two bar—keepers busuy employed, and the
Nantucket man ordered the liquid refreshment.
" ‘.‘ Mighty strange sort of a country this is
anyhow,” he said in a low tone to his companion,
so that the rest could not overhear him. “Jest
Lon look and see what the crowd are drinking
andy champagne, whisky, gin, beer, and i
notice they all cost the same, twent -flve cents
a glass. I tell you what it 1 Die , if I had
known that I would have gone for wine. for

 

had once been red, but now, was a dirty brown,
and a high~crowncd slouched hat, very much
the worse for wear completed the attire.

knife of extraordinary size.
He opened his huge mouth and a grin over—

spread his u lly face as he beheld the astonished «

3 expression upon the features of the youth, who
1' had been taken completely by surprise.
“Ho, ho, ho!" roared the giant in ahoarse
1 voice which plainly shewed its owner had been
‘ indulging in liquor so excessively that his lungs
had been damaged,” ’pears to me that this hyer
l leetle joke 0’ mine has completely upset this h yer
strange baby from the Eastwardl’ and then he
“haw-hawed” again as if he had perpetrated
gone of the best jests that mortal man ever
‘ conceived.

 

i landing, and of course looked neat and genteel,
compared to the majority of the men who filled
the streets of San Fransisco.

Talbot’s blood was heated almost to the boil-
ing point by this occurrence, though he was

, but a boy. and apparently no match for the

3 bully who had interfered with him. .

s The Nantucket man was thoroughly alarmed

at this untoward event, and although no cow-y

ard and enerally able to take -his own part
wherever 6 might chance to go, yet he was not
anxious to have any trouble with such an ugly-
looking brute as the newcomer, so his first im-
pulse was to advise his protege not to pay an
:ttelntion to the man, but Talbot was too quick
or 1m.

“ What do you mean by taking my glass out, .

of my hand in that we “I” he demanded, ap~
parently perfectly cool, a though in reality the
my of a demon was raging Within his veins.
“W’ot did I doit for? haw! hawl”exclaimed
the intruder, “why jest for‘greens, you know;
Jest for to keep you from makinz a beat a,

t

, In the belt which girded in his brawny waist V
all!" “men like the ASH“ HOUSE, 18 m” l, were two extra large revolvers and a hunting.- "

The youth had assumed his citizen’s suit upon ‘

 

 

,1 mmmwefl’zkae  ,

 

 
 

n‘ _
:1
E,
.- :7”
'i ,

t

 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  

 

 

,» «rank-0,, H K V_

7 _';,4_.,sn.‘..-e... ‘

 

 

,awWMMssmusaws .1 .,,-$,

.

Young Dick Talbot.

g.

 

yourself. Don‘t you know that a leetle chap

ike' on ought never for to bother with strong
drin ? It will muddle or head up, make on
aim at the stommick an play the old misc is!
with you ginerally. Do you s’pose I ’m the kind
0’ man for to stand by and see a babe like you
a-histing in p‘ison'l No, sir-es, boss-fly. Bobl- I
couldn’t do it. It goes ag’in’ my rain, every
time! Now, I‘m an old soaker. ’ll put the
nasty stuff out of the way and then you kin
smell of my breath afterward; it will do you
a. heap-sight more good.” _

“ You’re an impudent scoundrel, and on had
better ut that glass down or it wil be the
worse or you,” replied our hero, his voice clear
and calm and the utterance so distinct that he
was heard all over the room.

“ Haw, haw, haw!” roared the bully, his sense
of humor tickled by the demand and the im-
plied threat. “ Why, you’re a real cunnin’ leetle
cuss, ain’t yel right smart spunky, too. Wa-al,
kick me todeeth by crippled mules if I ain’t
glad I run across you. ’ve been looking for
some fun for eVer so long, and now I reckon I‘ll
have a show; but you mustn’t git sure ,you
know, for I’m jest the kind of a mule-s inner
for to spank leetle boyees with too much gab.”

“Put that glass down, you big loafer I” cried
the youth, to the utter astonishment of every-
bodv in the room.

“Eh, what—howl” cried the man. “Say,
you don’t go for to dare for to speak that way
to me, do you?"

“Yes, to you, you big, skulking brute; put
dawn that glass and apologize for having dared
to insult me,by takin it out of my-hand with
your dirty paw 1” rep] ed Talbot, resolutely.

“Dog-gone me, if this don’t beat anythingI
ever been tell on!" exclaimed the man, so
utterly astonished b the bold stand taken by
the youth that for t a moment be neglected to
resent it.

The Yankee thought he saw an opportunity
a? patch up a peace and so was quick to improve

" Oh, don’t let us have an words ’bout the
matter,” he said. “VVe’re a 1 friends here, all
gentlemen, and I guess there ain’t any need of
our having’a fuss. We’ll have a quiet drink
all round and say no more ’bout the matter.”

By the time this speech was uttered the
stranger had in a measure recovered from his
amazement and he turned flercaly upon the Nan-
tucket man.

“Who in thunder sod anythin to your’he
roared. “Are you a-running th s shindig or
am H I want you to understand that I’m the
kind of man w’ot doesn’t allow anybody to stick
theirs can in my soup! Jest you b’ar in mind
that I m the cuss w’ot’s frying these hyer fish
and you kin bet your bottom dollar they’ll be
done to a turn afore I git through with 'em
too.” And graspin the handle of one of his re-
volvers he advance a n Abner with so much
war in his manner the the Nantucket man in-
voluntarily retreated a couple of steps, but the
youth did not move an inch.

Satisfied with the im reunion he had produced
the bully threw back h head and glared aroun
him for a moment.

 

“ I’m apike from Missouri, and as rough and
tough as the make ’em. I reckon that some
of you folks n this h or burg must have heered
of me store; my han le is Jim Lsclede and once
in a while some of my pals call me St. Louis
Jim, and I reckon that name fits me as well as
though I was born with it. Now I tell you
folks, I’m ust as gentle as a bobtailed lamb,
when I ain t riled, ut when you get me roused,
I’m like the Big Muddy, a tough cuss to
handle.”

“You’re a tough old blow-hard!” cried the
youth in a tone of supreme contempt.

A hum of astonishment arose on the air at
this rash declaration and the bystanders looked
at the oath and shook their heads; in fact quite
a nun: r of them came to the conclusion that
the excitement had turned his head, for the
did not think it possible he would dare to a;
front the giant if in possession of his senses.

The rough fellow was so enraged by the in-
sulting expression that he let go of the revolver
he ha grasped and shook both of his fists in the
face of the youth.

“ W’ot’s that you sad!” he fairly howled.
“ Spit it out ag’in if you dar’l”

 

CHAPTER XII.
a may DISCUSSION.

v “I um on were a tough old blow-hard and
so you are ’ Talbot exclaimed, standing up to
the giant like a man, and with a look in his
eyes that fairly astonished the Yankee, for the
youth had always been so quiet that the Nan-

cket man never suspected there was anything
of the fighterabout him.

“ Why, you ’tarnel little fool, do you know I’ve
killed men for much less than this hyer?” the
bull growled.

" on will not kill me l” cried Talbot.

“ I would in a minite if you was any kind of
a match for real Oh, I Wish you was a feller
somewhar ’round my size! wouldn‘t I hammer
yer!” and -the rufilan swung his brawny fists
around like windmills. "

“No, you wouldn’t hammer me, and if I was
within ten pounds of your weight you wouldn’t
dare to open your head to me. ou are only
trying to play smart because you think I am
but a boy and you can im ose upon me, but 1
am not afraid of you, you ig, overgrown h .
You just put that beer down and apologize or t
will be the worse for you.”

The bully still retained the less of beer in his
hand, and as the barkeeper, ike all his tribe,
had been particular to give more foam than
liquor, it had not suflered materially from his
eccentric movements.

“ ’Pologizel oh, yes, of course. that is exactly
what I’m going to do——w’ot I’m jest dyin to do,
and you kin bet all our rocks on it, tool he ex-
claimed, sarcastica . “ Yes, sires, hose-fl ,
bumble-heel When on want a rust-class ’po 0-
gy, St. Louis Jim is est the teller you want for
to call upon.

“ ’Pologies cut and dried and k t to order.
If you don’t see what you want ax or it. '

‘ Inside of two wags of a mule’s tai I'll show
you w’ot kind of a lo I makel ou’re sich
apesky leetlecuss t t soorntoasamywe’nons

 

 

 

“I’m a wicked man. ‘1 am” he declared.
. (37

  

   

 

    

 

 

 

  

on you. so I’ll jest wet my whistle with this
hyer drink; then I’ll wring your nose until you
beg my pardon and axes forgiveness for being

so sure .
men a !”

But as the giant raised the glass toward his
lips, with a quick, upward motion of his hand
Talbot hit the glass on the bottom with the back
of it and the concussion sent the contents of the
glass in a shower of spray into the face of the

u y.

He had succeeded in gettinithe beer, but not
in the way he had anticipate

The action was so sudden that St. Louis Jim
was taken completely by surprise and as his
big mouth was open in readiness for the beer,
some of the fluid went into the capscious orifice,
and, led g in the windpipe. brought on a vio-
lent flt o coughing. -

As soon as he recovered from this, with a
fearful oath he flung the empty glass at the
head of the youth, but Talbot, with wonderful
quickness, not only dodged the missile, but with
his strong right hand caught the rufllan by his
extremely prominent nose and gave it such a
- twist as to force from the lips of the man a roar
of mingled rage and pain.

“ 0w, owl’ howled the bully

Here’s your jolly good health, gen’le-

“while his huge arms 1; ashed the air, and he
danced up and down, first on one foot and then
on the other, like a turkey on a hot plate.

The exhibition only lasted for a moment, but
the sight was so ludicrous that it made the spec-
tators roar with lau hter.

Then the youth re eased his grip and the big

fellow went sprawling over on his back, and,

agsin the bystanders laughed.

at when the bully rose to his feet and glared

around the laughter suddenly ceased. Notwith-

standing the sorry exhibition which the bold
youth had made of him, there wasn’t one in the
saloon who was anxious to incur his wrath.

. It was really a mystery to them that the
. youth should have succeeded in getting the best
of thetrufflan, but now that he had‘recovered
from he effects of the surprise, they feared it
would go hard with him.

' “ Run, you fool l" ejaculated one of thellookers-
on, who happened to be near the boy, in a
hoarse whisper in his ear “run, while thar’s a
chance for to give leg-bail. This big teller will
0 t you all up. ’ ,

‘Oh, no, he will not," the youth answered,
“and if he attempts totry the thing on, I guess
he’ll flnd I’m about as tough a morsel as he ever
got hold of since he was weaned."

Talbot had spoken freely, and his words
reached the ears of the other.

With a fiendish scowl be cast his evil-looking
eyes upon the boy.

" You have been having a regular picnic at
my expense, I reckon,” he growled. “but you

‘ kin bet all your pile now that the fun is over,
and business is oin to begin. You're mighty
fart with. your an s for a youngster, but arter

git through with yo I reckon you’ll think
tw1ce the next time lyou take it inter your
noddle for to try-liberties with the nose of
such a gentleman as Lam!" And then he com-

 

Young Dick

writhing in ‘
Talbot’s iron-like grasg, bent almost double, ‘
r

- and the weapons he so openly d
n

 

Talbot. . r

menced to roll up the ileeves of his dirty shirt

in a manner that plainly betokened business.

The Yankee became dreadfully alarmed.
During his acquaintance with our hero he had
never witnessed any displa of skill in the box-
ing line on his part, and 0 course had no idea
that he was at all accomplished in that line.

He knew that the youth was wonderfully
strong and extremely quick, and that on board
the schooner as a sailor he had easily held his
own with men 'almost double hiswei ht, well—
seasoned salts, with muscles fully deve oped and
toughened by years of toil. .

But for al that he thought Talbot stood no
chance at all against the burl rufilan.

“ See here!” he exclaime , " this ain’t the
fair thing at alll Jest look at the diflerence
atwixt you two! Why, "you’re almost big
enough to eat this ’ere boy.

“And I reckon I could do it too mighty
easy, if he was only well buttered an salted!”
the bully replied, with a ferocious  “ But
thar aiut any use for you nor no y else to
stick your spoon in this soup. This hyer leetle
cuss has insulted me in the worst way, and I’m
no man if I don’t make him sweat for it! _ Oh,
I tell you, I'm an uglmuck when I get a-goingl
The wust galoot you ' scare up from hyer to
nowhare.’

“ Gents, I appeal to you!” Abner cried. “ Is
this hyer the square thing! Jest look at the
difference between the two!” and he addressed
the crowd, who were watching the scene with
great interest. “ This man haln’t got no cause
to complain. He was the first to give offense;
if he hadn’t taken the glass out of my friend’s
hand there’wouldn’t have been any trouble.”

! “ That was only a joke!” exclaimed St. Louis
Jim, and he glared around at the bystanders as
much as to as , “ Which one of you is anxious
to take up this quarrel on behalf of the boy i”

3 But there wasn’t a man in the crowd who was

{ desirous of having a hand in the aflair.

The savage appearance of the burly roman
layed were
quite enough to make all the 53 con anxious
not to provoke his anger, and there wasn’t a

I man in the lace who did not consider the boy
i a little crac ed in the upper story for daring to
brave the wrath of such a redouhtable foeman.
‘5 Yes. sir-ee, that was only a joke,” re ted
j the l'llflhn, “and durn a cuss say I the ain’t
i got the rit to take a leetle joke like thatout
hyer in alifornyl Why, I‘ve had it layed on
me a hundred times and I never grow ed a mite
’bout it either.

“I didn’t go for to throw the liquor in the
feller’s face, nor to pull his nose. and I sw’ar
my horn feels as if it had been jammed in the
crack of a door for sure,” and with his huge left
paw he caressed the injured memberin a tender
manner, as he oke.

“ Are you a 0 then that you allow men to
walk over on?" alhot demanded. “ Because
if you are am not, and although I may not
be as big as a house, yet I am large soon 11 to
resent such an insult every time. I no
odds from anybody and though not a nt, yet
I’m not afraid of holding my own, ,w var I
any so.”

 

 
   

  

 

 

 

 

Pym. .. i

.r'.

 

 

 

  

 

w$l

 

Young men Talbot.

81

 

“You are the loudest crowing rooster that I
ever run across,” the other observed. “ You’re
sich a sure leetle cuss that you really make
me smile. hate like thunder to have to warm

on. but it’s.a duty I owe to the country for if
he conceit isn’t taken out of you the hull dnrned
coast wouldn’t be big enough to hold you.”

“ Take care that on don‘t make a mistake in
your reckoningl” t e youth exclaimed. facing

is o ponent in the most undaunted manher.

" Sam me if 1 don’t hate to thrash you, you
cussed leetle hantam l” the bully exclaimed.
“ I’ll tell you what I will do. You’re in a
’tarnel mess hyer, but seeing as how you aira
stranger and not used to our ways I will give
You a chance to get out of this hyer scrape.

on see I’m a generous sort of a rooster if you
comb my hair the right way.

“Jest you go down on your marrow—bones
and make me an humble ’polngy, say you're
sorry for throwmg the beer in my face, and
that you feel meaner’n thunder, ’cos you pulled
my bugle, then stand treat for the hull gang in
the saloon and I’ll call the matter squar’.”

The standing treat idea. suited the bystanders
exactly, and nearly all nodded as much as to
say that they approved of this mode of settling

‘ the uarrel.

“ t down on my knees and apologise!"

“ That’s the peppergraml"

“ And if I don’t?" ,

“ I’ll eat welt you until you’re sick or sore!”

“ Sail in!” and Talbot put up his hands in an
extremely scientiflcmanner.

 

CHAPTER XIII.
somncs sensor BRUTE macs.

81'. Lotus Jns surve ed the youth . for a mo-
ment in amazement. e cauld hardly believe
he had heard aright, and the bystanders looked

ually surprised.

hen‘the proposition was made, there wasn’t
a man in the saloon who had not at once mped
to the conclusion that the he would only
too glad tovavuil himself of t is easy mode of
getting out of the dimculty in which he had be-

. come involved.

“ W’otl do you mean for to say that you won’t
do it?” the ruiliun exclaimed.

“ Not much I” Talbot re lied.

‘_‘ I reckon you’re jest ungry for a thrash-

in l"

E And if I am, I reckon you’re not the man
able to give it to me.”

“ Boys, I hate like thunder to welt the leetls
cuss. but you see he’s got to have some sense
knocked into him,” remarked J im, addressing
the crowd “ I call upon the hull‘b’iling of you
to witness that I oflered to let him out, and he
wouldn't hive it. He’s anxious for fun, and he
won’t have no call tocom lain if he gits a leetls
more than he expects. ow look out for your-
self. for it's an earthquake that’s oomin l’

The bystanders were all eyes, while t e Nan-
tucket man was in a fever. In his 0 inion the
youth stood no chance at all, and whi a he knew
that it would not do for him to interfere in the
be inning6 as the bystanders were evidently
intfiined side with the bully, for there were

' I is!" more stomps than honest man in the place;

at he had determined that he would not stand
melmy and see his protege brutally beaten.
St. uis Jim, like all men of his class, was
considerable of a rough-and-tumble fighter, but
almost totally ignorant of the true principles of
the boxer's art.

His idea of a personal encounter was to close in
with his antagonist as soon as possible. In the
school of hting in which he had graduated,
kicking, bit ng and gouging were all allowed.

Anticipating then an ens victory for he felt
sure he was strong enoug to crush his puny
antagonist almost to death the moment he got
a good hold on him, he advanced with very
litt a caution.

Heasipaned with his huge arms, just asit he in-
tend to knock his opponent insensibls at the
first stroke.

In fact, his idea was to hit the boy two or
three heavy licks right at the be ‘nnin , think-
ing that the blows would take a the ght out
of him. ,

When the two came within arm’s-length,
for Talbot had advanced equally as ick as the
giant, much tothe astonishment of t e bystand—
ers, who thought the youth was crazy to be
thus eager to rush into a contest where all the

. advantages seemed to be against him, the con—
trast between the two was not so great as all
imagined.

Jim was perhaps by fifty pounds the heavier

. man, but not over an inch taller, and no huge"
in the reach. r

‘ But the contrast between the style of the two
was wonderful, and there wasn’t a man in the
room who did not remark it.

Talbot was easy and graceful, the other
clumsy in the extreme.

When they came within reach they spurred

i for a few moments, seeking for an opening to
put in a blow.

“ You’ve got a retty nice-lookin head on

on,” St. Louis 1m remarked. “ ’m sorr

that I shall be obligated to s ile it for life."

“ I can’t return the pomp iment for you are

, about the ugliest-looking brute that I over en-
' countered,” the youth replied.

“ Oh, I’m ugly, am 11‘ cried the other with a

furious scowl, working his brawny arms like a
; pair of wind-mills, striving to measure his op-
ponent so as to ut in a tremendous blow.

“ Very ugly, answered Talbot, gradually

I weaving in, and bracing himself for-a tremen~
‘ dons effort.

“Wait till I tthrough with you if on
. want to sea an‘ug y cuss!” the bully owl .
i Hardly had the words left his ips when

quick as s. flash the left arm of the youth shot
out and its iron-like knuckles, landing on the
ri ht check of the ruifian. right under the eye,
w th s smack that sounded like the crack of a
black-snake whip, knocked the man backward
a yard or more. ,

An involuntary “ Ah I” came from the lips of
all present. Few of the bystanders had ever
seen a more eifective blow struck. ~

With a: hoarse cry of rage, more like the howl
of a wild beast than the utterance of ahuman,
the ruflian steadied himself and then rushed upon
his opponent. , . , I
Tabot stood humans as firmlyssthouh ‘

 

 

 

 

    

 

Young Dick Talbot.

 

 

imbedded in the floor and as his ante uist
rushed upon him, out shot his powerful is t arm
and this time the blow caught the bully right
between the eyes, bringing him up, all a-stand-
ing as the seamen say, and for a moment St.
Louis Jim was favored with a private view of
more stars than he had ever seen in the heavens.

The blow tilted Jim’s head upward slightly
and the youth, having his man “ measured,"
let fly his right arm and the stroke catching the
ruman right under the chin, seemed to fairly
lift him from the floor, and he went over back-
ward, his bull-like head striking the rough
boards with a terrific whack.

The contest was over, for, to use the lan-
guage of the sporting gentlemen, St. Louis Jim
was “ knocked out.”

The shock had stunned him.

And no wonder for more than one in the room

asserted that the blow had been given with suf— *

flcient force to have felled an ox.

There was a moment of silence as the cta-
tors, amazed at the sight, the like of whic the
had never beheld before, took a look at the fa -
len man and then turned inquirin azes upon
each other as much as to say: “ at sort of
a fellow is this, anyway?" referring to the con-
queror. ,

“ Hooray I” ejaculated the Nantucket man,
abrugtlfy, as be perceived that the fight was
ende , or he felt pretty certain that the rufilan,
after what ad occurred, would not feel much
like continu ng the fight. “By gosh! I guess
he has got all he wants!"

“Say, give me some water, you, clerk,” said
one of the crowd, beginning to fear that the bi
fellow was fatally injured, as he did not man -
fest a sign of life.

But the suspicion was not correct, for after a
sponge with water had been applied to his tem-
p e , he sat up and looked around him for a mo-
ment in a wondering sort of way, as if he didn’t
exactly understand what had occurred.

This doubt did not last long, for the moment
his eyes fell upon his antagonist he understood
what had hapfpened. ‘ y

“ Cuss me you ain’t jest oid ii htnin I” he
exclaimed, rising slowly to his fee “ a , it
ain’t possible that you hit me with your ts!
Ain’t you got a club or a of brass knuckles
or something of that sort? ’

The youth shook his head, while the bystand-
ers hastened to assure the bully that he had

,been whipped in the squarest kind of a fight.

“Darn me if I understand it.” and he shook
his head in a dubious sort of way. “ Why, my
noddle feels as big as a bushel basket and that
last lick you i me under the aw ’bout

cracked it, I rec on.”

I
“ Are you prepared to apologise now!” the

youth asked, eternity.

“Eh, w’ot’s that ’snd the rufflan appearedto
be intensely surprised. ‘

“I asked on if you were prepared to apolo-

for ins ting me by snatching the glass of

or out of my hand!” Talbot exclaimed, ap-
proaching in such a decidedl threatening man-
ner that the rufliau steppe ,back until his re‘
treat was cut oi! by the deaf the house.
“301’ an. w’ot are you ’boutl” he cried. shak-

   
  

ing his big head like a bull at bay, and endeav-
onng to look fierce.
“ Are you going to apologize!” the youth de-
manded, doubling up his fists—the terrible fists
which had so mauled the bully.
“ Take care! don’t you come near me, unless
you’ve got {Eur graveyard picked out!” ex-
claimed St. uis Jim, clutching one of his re-
volvers. v
‘ “ You big, brute, ain’t on satisfied with
I what you have already rece ved?” the youth de—

manded, drawing back his strong right arm in
' readiness for another terrible stroke. “Don’t

you attempt to draw that pistol, or I’ll hummerz

3 you without mercy long before you can cook it
‘ in readiness for use. You have got toapologize,
I want you to understand that, and I don’t in-
; tend you shall get out of it.”
r “ You hain’t given me any show for my
money,” the rufflan grumbled, anxious to draw
1 his pistol, and yet afraid to do it as long as the
I terrible right arm of the youth menaced him.
I “You have had all the chance that a man
i could have," Talbot replied. “You have been
fairly whi ped in a fair fight, and you ought to
be satisfl , but if you are not, now is the time
to sa - so. You are complaining that you
haven t had a fair show, and yet you want to
draw our revolver on an unarmed man. , Do
you ca 1 that the fair thing?” v
The ruflian was in a bobble. He was cor-
nered, and he saw no way to escape from the
dilemma. The punishment he had received had
\ cowed him, and though he hated mortal] todo
i it, yet as the only thing possible under t e cir-
cumstances, with an ill grace he apologized, and
I then, with a covert threat that the day might
. come when he would have a chance to get even,
he slunk away.
The bystanders gathered around the youth
and loudly expressed their approval of his con-
duct, but as soon as possible Abner and his

1 protege departed.

CHAPTER XIV.
rauncnuan’s FLAT.

“ I TELL you what it is, Abner, this is a coun-
try where a man will have to look out, or he‘ll
be a dead man before he knows it," Talbot re-
marked as he and the Yankee sauntered down
the street.

" You see Dick, old Stoddard wasn’t joking
when he said that in California a. teller needed
ghood weapons as much as good tools," observed

e Nantucket man.

, “ Yes and we ought to have heeded his ad-
. vie‘elan got an outfit in Mobile.”
k11on edged.

 

 

I “But I never had occasion to
be a waste of money to invest in any: bu
Dick, I’m going to put some cash in some now,
right awai.” .

‘1 thin it will be advisable, for it is evi-
dent there are plenty of rough fellows in this
countr who care. nothing ‘for the law, and as
they a1 go armed to the teeth they would be

apt to presume upon the fact if they came across , s

a man who was not armed. If this fellow had

ass that was my fault,” the Yankee ac-‘~

‘.

a need any weapons, and I thought it wou!d onley; ,

  
 

“‘1, “Woodmen..-

.w .

. n... “slashesw... ..

 

a"

 

, u. ngv. y.

.. m. «seams»...

 

we a gnaw-Me Wu a... . . "*W
_ . “mushy v

 

 

 

‘

Young Dick Talbot.

 

succeeded in drawin his revolvar today, it
would have gone bar with me, for I haven’t
the least doubt that the scoundrel would have
shot; me down in cold blood, without any mer-
cy.’ .
“ Sakes alive! how you did handle him!” ex-
claimed Abner, chuckling over the remem-
brance of the scientific way in which the bully
had been thrashed. “Upon my word, Dick, no
one, to look at you, would have believed that

on could have done it. Why, the critter was

ig enough to eat you. I trembled in my shoes
all the tlme."

“I am well developed for my age, and then
too, men who are judges in such matters say i
am unusually powerful. In fact, I could al-
ways fight as much as any other two members
of the social club to which I belonged, and at
the club I learned to box and wrestle. I had a
natural taste (or all muscular amusements, and
sotook to them; but I never thought that my
accomplishments in that line would ever come
in so handily as they have to-dny.”

“ By gosh! you handled him like aprize fight-
er. I’ve seen a good many scufiles in my time,
gut I”never saw a man w ipped so quickly be-

ore.

“The man was strong enough, but he didn’t
know anything about boxing, and that gave
me a'terrific advantage; and then. too, the fel-
low was a coward at heart, despite of all his
bravado. I felt pretty sure of that when be
troubled me, for a man‘who really amounted
to anything wouldn’t go out of his way to pick
a quarrel with one who, apparentlyI was no
match for him.”

“ That’s law and gospel the world over,” the
Yankee assented.

“ And the moment the scoundrel came at me,
I saw from the way he put up his hands that he
hadn’t any knowledge of the boxer’s art, and so
it was an easy matter for me to hit him when
and where I liked—and I made' up in mind
right at the beginning that I would stri 6 him
for all I was worth."

“ And you did, too—there isn’t any mistake
about that. I never saw a critter keoled over
more beautifully in all my born daysl” Abner
exclaimed in glee, and he laughed outright
Khan be reflected upon the discomfiture of the

ull .

J nit then they came in sight of a store in the
windows of which a fine assortment of weap-
ons were displayed.

“Here‘s the place for us to stock up," said

" the youth, directing the attention of his coup

panlon to the store.

“‘When you’re in Turke , do as the turkics
do,” responded the Nuntuc at man, with a grin
“ And as all the critters in these parts go'rounc
with knives and” pistols harnessed to ’em, 1
s’pose we ought not to be out of the fashion.”

80 the two friends entered the store, and ere?
one invested in a pair of revolvers and a gem.
sized bowie-knife, together with a plentiful sup-
ply of ammunition.

mm the store they proceeded to head-quar-
ters, and there met Colonel Stoddard, who in-
formed them that all preparations had been
made for the ourney, and the expedition
would set out at vs o’clock next morning.

  
 

I

 

"I sha’n’t be sorry to get out of this pesky
town,” Abner remarked. “ The critters here
are too much inclined to be quarrelsome to suit
‘me- and I tell you, Dick, after what happened
to—day. it is just as well for us not to tarry any
longer in this ’tarual town than we kin help.

“That big rascal is an ugly coat—I’d be will-
ing to bet ninepence on that l—and it he to nd
out we was in town, he’d git together a gun t
roughs somenight jest for the purpose of getting
even with us.”

“He’s none too good for it," the youth as-
sented. '

“ Therefore, the quicker we get out the
better. For my part, I would be better
pleased if we started to-night than in the morn-

1D .
g‘Oh, we mustn’t run away from the scamp,
you know.”

“Run—not much! Oh, no- I wouldn’t run,
not for the world; but rather} than have any
trouble, and being obliged to kill adozen or.two
of the landpirates, I would walk mighty
fast,” replied the Yankee, with his everlasting

Promptly at the up ointed time in the morn-
ing, Colonel Stoddar led his party out of San
Francisco.

There were fifteen pilgrims in the alxpedition,
who had been persuaded by the colonel’s
iarlpquence to try their luck at Frenchman’s

at.

The journey was an uneventful one, and
in due time the party arrived at their destina-

ion.

The place was situated on the upper Mariposa
river, and possessed a po ulation of possib y a
hundred souls all told—a1 men, with the excep-
tion of the wife and daughter of one of the set-
tlers—a gaunt old man, who acted as the express-
agent, and kept the on] store in the camp.‘ He
was known as Thomas ichardson.

It was just about supper-time when the trav-
elers rode into the town, and therefore all the
inhabitants were at home, having knocked 08
work for the day.

Richardson’s store was the general lounging-
place, being a capecious two~storied shanty; the
store was in the front part, and in the rear a r
sort of restaurant, for Mrs. Richardson, with
’the assistance of her daughter, ran a boarding-

case.

The principal income of the store was from
the sale of whi ky, for the express agent ran a '
regular saloon in one art of the store.

“ I see you’re all sett ed and in running order,”
the colonel remarked as he rode up to the hotel,
for Richardson had di ,nifled his establishment
with a rudel painte sign, which displayed
an. railroad-ens e, and the words, “ American

0

“Oh, yes: all in apple-pie order, colonel,”
responded the‘ landlor , shaking hands with
Stoddard after he dismounted. “You’ve got
quite a party with you,” he added, running his
yes over the new-comers, and mentally calcuv
lating how much he would be able to make out
of the crowd. ,

a ‘31 rgciraan soi I all; the tgo s 82h? couldn’t
use r ace rive e aesthana
Frenchman’s lot." t ,

 te‘

 

 

 

 

 

 

4

34

Young Dick Talbot.

 

" I reckon you are about ri ht there, colonel. I
lI'he claims are panning out rst-rate; some of
the boys have been making at the rate of ten
and twelve dollars a day, and there isn’t one of
them that isn’t making a good living,” Richard
son remarked, while the newcomers listened
with eager ears to this cheering; intelligence.

“ But walk right into the. house, gentlemen
aanI will do my best to take care of you untl
you fix up places of your own,” the old man 3
continued. “ Supper is about ready, and you’ve
just got time to join me in a social drink afore
you sit down to the table.”

Then the speaker conducted the strangers into
the store, where a shock-headed youth, who
noted as general assistant to the old man, set
out the whisky and glasses. l

Abner and the youth were the last to enter, ‘
and they rather kept in the background; for ,
neither one of them had any liking for liquor,

V md they hoped to be excused from accepting
l e proffered hospitality.
But the old man had his eyes on our hero, 2

i » who in his appearance was so diflerent from the '

rust, who were somewhat rough in their appear-

ance. .

“Come, youngster!” Richardson exclaimed, 1
“step to the front and take a swig of whisky; i
it won’t hurt you but on the contrary build you
up and make a man out of you. Jest you drink ;
whisky enough and you’ll be a man store your
mother 1”

And the rest, rendered somewhat jovial by
the landlord's hospitality, laughed heartin at
the old-time joke. ’

“I’m very much oblized to’you, sir, but I do
not care for it,” the youth replied, quietly. ’

“Neither do II” the Yankee exclaimed. .
“I've drank more whisk now than is good for
me since I was hatch and I guess it’s ’bout
time for me to quit."

“ Oh, you can suit yourself, or course, this is

a free country,” Richardson remarked in a
rather insolent sort of way. “You are stran-
gers to this coast and cannot be expected to un-
' erstand our ways, but you will get used to ,
them in time, butI can tell you that there are 1
some cam sin California where it wouldn’t be {
wise tore use a drink when it is politely ten- 5

dared by a gentleman.” l

“ Oh, the youn star will come to his milk One I
of these rdaysfl’ o erved the colonel. “Let’s -
drop the subject now and o in to supper. ”

And so no more Was sai about the matter. .
' At the supper-table the adventurers were
given an opportunity to see the wife and daugh-

r of the landlord. ’

The wife, Mother Nance, as she had been
nick-named by the miner, was a hard-featured,
ugly. old woman with a masculine appearance,
'but the daughter Laura, was a most decided
contrast, being only about eighteen, a blue—cystici

H ' blondehaired beauty, with a buxom figure an

a charming face.

She was a pleas at, honest sort of girl, and as
our hero afterwa d discovered, as much liked
as her parents were disliked by the majority of

‘ . the miners.

_ Richardson introduced his wife and dau hter
iv toColonol Stoddard with a great flour 1 as,

they had arrived during his absence and then
they all sat down to supper.

 

CHAPTER XV.
L cusrmo rasnsscrron.

Am the meal was ended, the Nantucket
man and his protege took a walk around town to
see what it was like.

Dar-knew had arrived by this time but as the
full moon came up early the pair were able to
get apretty good idea of what the town was
1']; '

1 e. ,
“That Richardson is a kinder ueer old
rooster,” Abner observed as they strol ed along.

“ Yes, I don’t admire him much.,”

“Neither do I; I didn’t like that whisky busi-
ness afore supper. I didn’t come out here to
work like all-possessed for gold and then go and
throw it away on bad liquor. That standing
treat was jest a bait to attract customers.

‘ would be willing to bet a big a pic that he

makes more mono out of that p ace of his’n
than any ten men n the town.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised. and I think too
from what I heard Stoddard say while on the
we here that he has an interest in it."

‘ Very likely, he's a sort of high—cockalorum
in this camp. Say, Dick, did you happen to
notice at the supper-table how 9 cast sheep’s
eyes at the leetle gal."

“9h, yes, he was evidently impressed by

her.

“ And, Dick, don’t you think that the colonel
is a leetlo too old for to be shining up to slch a
young heifer?" asked the Yankee, shrewdly.

“ Decidedly too old, and someway I’ve an
idea that the lady was not glowed at the way
in which he looked at her. ny idea of marriage
between the two is utterly ridiculous, to my
thiafl’sing. Why, the colonel is a man of fifty
0d , .

“ Sure as you’re born, and the gal is in her
teens; another thing, Dick. don’t ever let on that
I said anything abouti ,” and the Yankee looked
around him cautiously, as though afraid of be
ing overheard.

‘ Certain! not; you ought to know me well
enough by t istimo to understand that there
isn’t any danger of my talking too much.”

“That’s so; ou’ro ’bout'as close-mouthed a
critter as ever run across. Well, what I was

going to sa ‘bout the colonel is, I guess he can’t
y

git spliced to any gal ver well, for I’m (pretty
certain he’s got a wife in obilo."

“ That would rather interfere.”

“ Yes, I believo that they have separated but
I understood that there. hadn’t been any legal
divorce. As I heard the story, his wife comes
of a good family, and there’s a big chance she

twill come in for a heap of money one of these

days, and so the colonel is anxious to keep the
knot from being untied. He’s been a pretty
wild chap in his time but/bis wife is one of the
ieular sort, and she would rather live'apartv
was him, and make believe not to know any-
thing about his didoes, than to go into a court
and so publish her wron I to e‘verybodib’:1
,“Of course I don’t now much a It the
«booth: I haven’t a Very high opinion of

 
 

Wm. _

 

 

 

 

  
 

 

 

lf‘ry‘

~g_;..-._._\~;.,.. ,. .;.

 

 

 

   

..

«l.» him. I'm inclined to believe he would be ex- ‘

' tremely ugly and disagreeable if he fancied an

r /

-.

 

one was in his way,” the youth observe ,

V thgiightfully.

guess ou’ve got him sized up ’bout right "
Abner admitted. ’
“ But as we are not likely to come in contact

3 with him, it will not make a particle of differ-
ence to us even if he is high-tempered and dis-

posed to be dogmatic."
' “ Not a mite!”

“But, about this girl afl’air, supposa the
colonel does go after her!" asked the youth,

slowéy.
“. ell, what if he does!” asked the Nantucket
man, with a covert glance into the face of the

other.

“ Would it be right for us to permit him to go
ahead, knowing as we do, that he has a wife
living, and that ecan’t legally marry this one?"
Dick asked, his voice earnest and a thoughtful
look upon his face.

“I swow, boy, you are putting a prettX
knotty question tome!" Abner exclaimed. “
lawyer might get ’round it by saying that as it
ain’t any of our business, we ain’t got any right
to interfere, and might strengthen his position

by repeatingthe old adage that he had known a ’
. good many men in this world to get rich by at- ,

tending strictly to their own business.”

“ But would it be honest for us to allow the
colonel to act like a scoundrel when by a word
we clould prevent it?” the youth demanded ab-
rupt y. .

“No, I don’t think it would be exactly the
square thing.

“ If she was a daughter or sister of ours,
wouldn’t we thank the man from the very bot-
tom of our hearts, who was bold enough to step
forward and prevent the crime, for it is a crime
and in my opinion an atrocious one."

“ Well, you can jest bet all the wealth you’ve

at that we would l” cried Abner, all his better
eelings aroused by the appeal of his companion.

“That is the way I eel about it, and I tell,

you, Abner, I’m not goingI to stand tamely by
and see the girl wronged. ’m not anxious or a
quarrel, and least of all with the colonel, for he’s
a hot—blooded Southemer, with the reputation
of being an expert duelist, and if there is trouble
it will, in all probability, lead to bloodshed, but
right is '_ ht and when the time comes Ido not
intend tglge found upon the wrong side. .

“ We may be borrowing trouble m this mat-
ter, you know; the colonel may not have any
intention or pursuing the girl, but, somehow,
from the we be looked at her, the idea came
into my be that he was attracted by her and
so I thought you and 1 might as well come to an
understanding.”

"‘ I’m glad you spoke; it will not do a mite of

‘hurt to be prepared even if nothing comes of it;

but, Dick, jest you make up your mind that
Kg: kin depend upon me clean through," replied
ner.

By this time the twain had arrived at the hotel
and so the conversation ended.

The accommodations aflorded by the Ameri-
can Hotel were tar worse than any thin that the
“fintmrs had yet struck in the Go on State.

theminerssleptinonelarxeroom: Some,

I A I

3 .

 

Young Dick Talbot:

 

/ail

rude bunks composed of ine bon were ar
ranged on the floor and efch indivigl-ial spread
his blanket and camped down upon it, not the
least bit of bed‘clothes being provided.

But some way in lie of these scanty accom-
modations the men s ept splendidly. “

All were up betimes in the morning and»

Abner and Dick, having taken counsel from the
men who were posted in regard to the claims
oflered for sale in the neighborhood of the town
gurchased a hundred square feet from Colone

toddard, being the upper end of a claim of his
known by the peculiar name of Nip and Tuck.

Neither one of the partners was able to guess
wh such” an odd name had been given to the
claim but after they had been working it for
a week with very poor success, hardly getting
enough out of the claim to pa livin expenses,
their neighbor, is grim grizzle old to low of vast
experience in mining matters being one of the
pioneers of ’fort -nine, enlightened them one day
when he strolle over at sunset to see how they
were gettin along.

“ You rec on its a kinder queer name ” he
observed with a chuckle, when Dick let fall a
remark in regard to the queer appellation.

“ It seems so to us.” Abner answered.

“‘Afore you git throu'Yh with it you‘ll find it ‘

will be nip and tuck wit starvation as long as

i you try to git a living outen it,” the veteran re-

marked.
And then the truth came out; the claim was
considered worthless by all the experienced men

5 of the place, and the miner more than insinu-

ated that Stoddard had acquired all the lucre

‘ he possessed not by successful mining, but by

speculating in claims, buying up lands of little
value and disposing of them to guileless fortune.
seekers at an enormous advance. ,

After they ascertained these facts, the part
ners held a consultation.

They had bought the claim with their eyes
0 en and there wasn’t any use of ap aling to
t e colonel about the matter, and so {fey came
to the conclusion that the only thing to do
was to hold on to it while they could get a
living out of it and at the same time keep on
the lookout for a better spot.

As in more civilised communities this kind
of sharp practice on the part of the colonel was
not regarded as being particularly dishonest,
and it did not seem to hurt his popularity in
the least. for when the miners came to the con-
clusion that the camp had grown big eno hto
be organized into a regu ar town, Stod ard
was chosen for alcalde by an almost unani-
mous vote.

0n the night after the election, when the

result of the contest was made known and the .

artisans of the successful man were cele-
rating his election by a hu e bonfire in front
of the hotel and the colone , from a second-
stery window, was returning his “heartfelt
thanks" to his fellow-citizens, who, by their
actions that day had caused his bosom to

thrill with pride when he reflected that he ,

was “an American citizen and the first al-
calde o! the successful t0wn known as French-
man’s Flat,” the rtners standing at the

door of the little ea. in which they had erect! ,

 

 

  

Young Dick Talbot.

 

53;. , ed on their miserable claim, watched the re-
 joicing from afar. .

“ There used to be an old saying .when I was
a boy ’bout cheating never rospermg,” Abner
remarked in a rather dolefu way, as he noted
the bonfire blazing up against the night and
the cheers of the celebrating miners came d18-
tinctly to his ears, “but I swow it seems to [no
‘as if that ’ere thing don’t hold good out in this
country,.for jest see this (pesky sarpmt of a
colonel. They say all ’roun town that he has
bitten every man that ever traded With him,
and, by gosh, he’s getting on better than any

 

fore mentioned—~“ said this mornin that there
wasn't any doubt ’bout the colone ’5 election,
for the biggest rascal in the camp was always
chosen for alcalde, and everybody knew that
old Stoddard filled the bill to a T.” '

“ ‘ It’s 8. Ion lane that has no turning,’ ”
Dick responded, “ and I’m not satisfied to cry
quits with the colonel yet. Alcalde or no al-
calde, I’m oing to have satisfaction for this
mine swiudgle, and retty soon, too, you can
depend upon it. t I can’t do it any other
Way, I’ll skin him at poker. He thinks he can
play, but I’ll make him change his opinion.”

CHAPTER XVI.
m cononnn’s DEMAND.

FOB some three weeks affairs in the camp
went on without anything occurring worthy of
amention. _

Colonel Stoddard paid such devoted attention
to Miss Richardson that it was the talk of the
town, but the girl did not seem to be pleased
with his endeavors, although” the _old folks
helped the colonel along in every possible way.

In such a small community it wasn’t possible
for any of the members to remain long strangers
to each other. and '30 Miss Richardson and our
hero, young Talbot, became acquainted, and a
mutual liking sprung up between them, although
the old man and his wife never lost an oppor-
/ t nity to revile the partners.

either one of them patronized Richardson’s
whisky-shop, and in fact, if they had been so
disposed, their claim was not producing enough
to allow them to indulge in an luxuries.

It was as much as they coul do to get a bare
living out of it, and even then they had to live
in the most fru a1 manner. .

Frenchman’s lot was like all other places in
this world, and the tale~bearer was not absent,
and so it soon came to the colonel’s knowledge
that Miss Richardson was accustomed every
now and then to take a walk up the valley and
when she passed the Nip and Tuck claim,
usually stopped and chatted for a. few minutes
with the partners. . '

An ugly feeling had glrrown up in Stoddard’s
mind in regard to the ankee and Talbot; he
knew that he had swindled them in regard to
the sale of the claim, and was aware the were
“conscious of the fact, and like all men w o suc-
ceed in injuring others, he was afraid his
victims might attempt to get evan with him,
and then, too since he had become alcalde of
the town, he ancied that the ir did not treat
him with the respect due to his xalted station.

his was true enough. forbo the Yankee

’.

man in the place. Old Jones "—the veteran be—‘

 

and Talbot were—to use Abner! quaint s14
ression, “ as independent as a hog on ice,” and
olding the colonel to be a mean rascal, they

did not go out of their way to truckle to him.

Stoddard, when he found that his suit did not,

roduce the impression he desired upon the
ady, and about that time heard that she was
fond of talking to the youth, immediately
jumped to the conclusion that in Dick he had a
rival, and so in his bull-headed way he came up
to Nip and Tuck claim for the purpose of saying
a few plain words to the youth.

“See hyerl” he exclaimed, as he approached
Dick who was busy with the pick etting out
the dirt for his Companion to wash. fin the days
of which we write it was about all surface
mining in California, and carried on in the most
primitive way. “I want to haves. little talk
with you, (young man.”

Stoddar ’s manner was domineering and
oflensive in the extreme.

“Go ahead, I can hear what you say, I guess,”
replied Talbot, leaning on his pick and survey-
ing the colonel with anything but a friendly
expression. “ I’m not deaf.”

"I’m going to say a few words to you for
your good, and I hope to speak so plain that
you will not misunderstand me,” and Stoddard
scowled in an ugly way.

Our hero returned the 130k with interest,

though, for he had made up his mind not to
yield an inch to the old scoundrel.

“You are new to these diggings, and not as
well posted as you might be,” the colonel con-
tinned.

“ Right you are about that. If either myself
or partner had been posted, it isn’t likely that
you would have been able to have stuck us with
this worthless mine,” replied the youth, shortly.

The colonel grew red in the face as this an- ,

swer fell upon his ears. He had not expected to
have the truth so plainly delivared to him.

“Oh, you don’t think the claim is good for
anything then?”

“Yes, 1 do; first-rate to give to a man that
you don’t like and whom you would be glad to see
starve to death.”

“ I have understood that you have been‘sh ot-
ing 01! your mouth pretty lively about his
claim, and‘ I want you to know that I am not
the kind of man to allow any such talk I” Stod-
dard exclaimed, threateningly.

“ Oh, you swindle a man first and then stand '

ready to kick him if he complains,” Dick re-
torted. '

“ You’re using hard words. young man l” the
colonel cried, not exactly knowing what to
make of the bold front that the youth has as-
sumed. ’

“ It’s nothing but the truth. and I guess you
know it as wel as I do,” and Talbot favored the
other with a significant glance that made him
fair] glow with rage.

“ mm the way you talk I should fancy you

wanted to E‘rovoke a difficulty!” and Stoddard
assumed a reatening look.
“ Oh no, I’m not anxious to (inst-rel with any
one. l’m fiust as ceable a to low as «you will
find anyw ere, yet, don’t believe in allowing
321,? body to walk over me, and if any man,

I

  

    
 

  
     
    
       
 
 
        
    

         
       
         
      
 

care who he is. attempts to rub my hair .: ,

   

     
     
     
     
     
     
       
     
     
     
     
          
      
       
       
     
     
       
     
       
     
       
        
        
      
  
 
     
     
       
  

   

       

 

     
       
    
   
   
   

     
  

 

 

 

 

 

 
   
    

 



, e
E.
l.
a:
i,
e.
2

,an explanation. I

, my mind I would come ht
.camp telling lies about me,

i i he replied.

 

Young men Talbot. 21

 

the wrong way, it is more than likely I shall
get angry."

“ Neither am I anxious to have a diiflculty
with any person,” Stoddard observed, endeavor-
ing to restrain his anger and appear calm, for
he was conscious that it he allowed his temper
to get the better of him, the youth would have
a decided advantage, for he had not come for
the purpose of bringing the matter to a head.

In fact, in his overweening self-conceit, he had
an idea that a hint or two from him would be
sufficient to make the youth steer clear of his
track for all time to come.

0! course he had made up his mind that if
Talbot was still-necked and obstinate, he would
provoke him to a personal encounter relying
upon his skill with weapons to kill the hey, an
so remove him from his path for all time to
come.

But this was no place for the carrying out of
such a plan. The colonel wanted plenty of Wit-
nesses, and it was his game in all matters of this
kind to provoke his antagonist to begin the
quarrel, so that it the aflair had a fatal ending
he would be held free from blame.

H is idea was to threaten the youth with his
vengeance if he did not carry himself more care-
fully. and although he had made up his mind to
kill Dick if he did notheed the warning, yet not
for an instant had be imagined such.,a thing
would become necessary. for he farcied he ooul
frighten the boy into doing as he wished.

Talbot’s bold front therefore surprised him.

“ It is my way." the colonel continued, “ when
a misunderstanding arises between myself and
anybody else to go right to the party and have

think it always saves
trouble.”

“ No doubt at all about that.”

“ NOW I have heard you have been talking
pretty loosely about me in regard to the trans-
action concerning this claim and I made up

lo you about the
y to firound the
you ow,” and
Stoddart shook his finger impressively in Dick’s
face.

When this oflensive speech escaped from the
colonel, it was as much as Talbot could do to

matter. I don’t want any

' restrain the impulse which bade him smack the’ h

speaker’s face in such an emphatic manner as to
loosen all his teeth, but by a great effort he con-
trolled himself. ’

If the colonel had received a whack from

v Dick’s iron-like hand, he mostsurely would have

changed his mind in regard to the ca bilities
of the antagonist whom he was muc under-
rating. _
Talbot's muscular wers were entirely un-
known to Stoddard, or at the youth‘s request,
his encounter with the bully in San Francisco
had been ke t quiet, for Dick. was not sinuous
to acquire the reputation of being a hard nut to

crack. ”
“ I hav’n’t told any lies about you, colone ,

' “ In fact, I hav’n’t said uric: 05

an thin about the claim to any one. n

this wasgthe truth, for Stoddard's idea that the
rtners had been traducin him on account or

sale of the mine. arose in a guilty knowl-

 

 

edge that he had most grossly swindled the
uiisus ting pilgrims in the sale.

“A l the old inhabitants of the valley know
that the claim isn’t geod for an thing,” Dick
continued, “and that no one as ever suc-
ceeded in making a living out of it yet.

“ All the talk about the matter has come from
the sharps who have called to see how we
were getting on, and who laughed at the idea
of our paying you two hundred dollars for a
claim that onl cost you five.”

“That's a iel” cried the colonel shortly.
“The fellows owed me over a. hundred and
fifty dollars good, honest cash. I gave them,
five dollars to help them out of the town, took
tfi? claim for the debt and so squared the
t n .

“ f course I don’tknow anything about that,
I’m only telling you what I have heard, and
you have it as cheap as I got it. My opinion

hough, is, that it you onl paid five dollars for
the claim, you were bad y swindled, for it is
absolutely worthless.”

“You’re not experienced miners and proba-
bly don’t know how to work it, but I want you
to understand I don’t wish to hear anything
more about it. ‘ '

“And then there’s another thing I want to
talk to you about. I understan you have
been utting outsell! out of the way to address
Miss ichar son lately and as that lady will
shortly become my wife your conduct 15 not
pleasing to me and I want you to stop i ”

“ Anything else?” asked Dick, so calmly that
the colonel was completely deceived.

“ No, nothing more that I can think of at res-
ent. Well, you understand now how the and
has so look out in the future ” and then with

an imperious nod of the head Stoddard saun- r , '

tered away satisfied he had crushed a possible
rival out 0 his path.
Never was a man more deceived.

CHAPTER XVII.
' AN EXPLOSION.

Anm after the colonel’s departure came in
haste to see what was up, for, although he was
too far oil to overhear the conversation, yet
from the appearance or the two durin the talk,
a had guessed that the interview not been
a geasant one. ‘ '

ick related all that had occurred and the
anger of the Nantucket man was great.

“Why, the p’isoned sarpintl” he exclaimed.
“Es wants to add insult to injury. He ain’t
satisfied with skinning us out of our money but
he ants us to hack im up for his liberality in
sell ng usthe darned thing. What are you a-go-
ing to do ’bout it, Dick?”

‘ Cut his comb so closely at the first favorable
opportunit that he will never be able to hold
up his hea hi h enough to crow again in this
regionl’: repli the youth, abruptly, and the
expression upon his clear~cut features showed »
thfitfit was no igle boast.

ow soon. 0‘ cu calculate to it on!”
the Yankee asked}, by ‘

“ ’l‘o-night, I guess. This is one of the kind of
aflairs that on ht notto be delayed; the quicker
it is settled a better. Altar what has oo-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.\

28

Young hick Tubal."

 

curred to—dn this camp isn’t big enough to hold I

both the co one] and myself unless one of us
knocks under. He intends mischief to the girl
too. for he announced that she would shortly
berouxe his wife.”

“ Ami that don’t please you much I guess,”
Abner remarked with a grin.

“ You are right, it does not," Dick answered ‘

honestly. " The girl is a good girl and since I
have made her acquaintanve and learned her
character I have become more and more deter—
mined that old Stoddard shall not make her his
victim. I expect we will have a lively time,
but I shall go amply prepared and before we
get through one of us will be apt to besorry the
picnic occurred.” ’

“ I say Dick, if the colonel knew how you
handled that big feller in Frisco afore we start-

ed I don’t believe he’d be so anxious for a fuss ‘E

with on.”

“T ere isn’t much doubt about that,” the a

youth remarked with a smile.
, ringing on this quarrel presumed upon the
fact that I am only a boy, and he thinks he has
a soft thing.” '

“But More he ets through he may change

his opinion ’boutt at matter,” the Yankee re- ;

marked knowmrly.
He had such faith in his companion that he
did not doubt in theleest in regard to the result.
’ He was sure that if Stoddard ventured to
bring on a struggle he would very soon discover
he had caught a Tartar.

At sundown when the partners came to figure
up the product of the day’s work they found

' 'thut they had only succeeded in getting about
two dollars worth of dust.

“Blamed if the thing ain’t gitting worse in‘
storm of better!” the Nantucket man exclaimed.
discouraged by the unprofitable result. , “ if it
keeps on in this way it will peter down to ’hour,
fifty cents a. day and then I reckon we’ll have to

’ hustle round pretty lively for grub or else learn
to pit, along without any.”

,‘ It is about time t at we kickéd up alittle
fuse with the colonel in regard to this swindle,”
Dick observed thoughtfully.

“ That is so."

“ The swindle is really too big. If he had
struck us for fifty dollars we could ,aflord to

in and bear it, but two hundred is altog+ ther

had—too big a profit on an invastment of
five dollars.” ‘

His partner coincided with our hero in regard
to this, and so, after their frugal supper was
ended, they started for the American Hotel,
which, after nightfall, was the general rendez—
vou- for the miners.

It was dark by the time they reached the cen-
ter of- the camp, and when they came in sight

I r _ “of the hotel the Yankee suggested that as there

’ was a Krobability of their getting into a r0w in
.9658 t ey had any words with Stoddard. it

' ~would only be prudent for them to examine

their wt-aponn and see that they were in work-
ing order.

‘in a' leetle discussion such as we are apt to
at into, a miss-fire would be apt to cost a man
is life,” he observed; ' '
,Dickassentodtothmond the two retired to

 

“ Stoddard in '1

 

the shelter of a convenient little clump of

bushes and examined their weapons.

Hardly vs! the examination completed when ,-
they became aware that two men were up- 

proaching the spot busy in conversation.

Theitwo, sitting in a. little open spot in the
center of the bushes, were completel concealed
from view, and the new-comers ha ted Within
earshot of the partners, without the slightest
auspifion that their conversation could be over-

our . 3

“ I tell on what it is, old man.” said one of
the two, na voice which both of the listeners
immediately recognized, “you have ottocome
:gosyne decision in this matter, an speedily,

The s aker was Colonel Stoddard.

“ We 1, colonel, you needn’t git hufl
the matter. I reckon I’m doing all!
vou,” replied the other, who was the hotel-

eeper. old Richardson. ,

The Yankee could not help nudging our hero,
for Abner considered this accident to be a rare
bit of luck.

There wasn’t the least need of calling Dick’s
attention, for he was on the alert, having recog-
mined the ’speukers the moment he heard their
‘VOlL‘OS.

“ But you are not doing enough. You know

'bout

I want the girl and that ought to be suflicient,"l

the colonel complained.

“ Ain’t I talking for you all the time, both me /

and the old woman? Why, colonel, we never
lose a. chance to din it into her care what a
splendid catch it we d be for her it she could

onlnget you.”

‘ es, yes, that is all very well; I don’t doubt
that you talk, but what good does it do when
you allow the girl to roam around at her own
sweet willl Don’t you know that she goes up to
that cursed Nip and Tuck claim about every
day, sits down on a rock there and talks to that
young whelp of a Talbot by the hour togetheri”,
demanded Stoddard,angrily.

‘JWell, colonel, honestly, I didn’t know any-
thing about it until this afternoon and then one
of the boys commenced to joke the gal about the
matter, and I saw from the queer way she acted
there was something in the thing. I questioned
her about it but she was as contrary as a. mule,
and said she reckoned she didn’t walk up that
way any ‘oftener than she went down the

river, and of course as I really didn’t know an ~,

thing sure about the matter, she kinder had t 0
best of me." '

      

nfor‘

“ It’s 0t to he stopped; that’s all there is, '
5

about it!
manner.
- “I’ll do all I can, of course, but I tellyou,

’ the colonel remarked in aperemptory

flStoddard, it isn’t an easy with such a contrary

heifer as my gal. I you attempt to put a. ti ht
rein upgm her she is mighty opt totkick over a

063.

“See hyer, Richardson,
fxgend lto you, haven’t I!” the other demanded,
I ru t y. r

“ h, yes, colonel, ‘on allus helped me out
when I needed any ass nce, but then I'vebecn

the means of putting a good my dollar! in

your pocket too.”

I’ve been’u good-

 

 

 

 

   
 

 

" you would have had har

 

Young Dick Talbot ' _ 29

 

“ “Yes, that is true soon 11, only without me ‘
scratching, while I
could have got another man to answer my

‘ purpose about as well as you have.”

“Bax-tin, colonel I ain‘t denying anything
ag’iu’ that " the hotel-kee r admitted.

" Now, want you to o mea favor, and you
are not willing.” '

“ Come. come. colonel! Alp’t you putting
it rather strong to say that?”

“Not at all-it’s the plain English of it, and
that’s what’s the matter. 1 want :your daugh-
tei'; the girl is foolish and headstrong like nine-
tenths o the girls at her age. She has got to
be made to mind—that’s all there is to it. You
want to (put your foot ri ht down. say Colonel
Stoddar is the husband ve picked out for you
—you must get ready to he married ‘next week
and” that would settle the matter tdr good an

all.

i

“S’pose she cuts up rusty,'and won’t listen
to reason?” old Richardson inquired, in a dubi-
ous sort of way.

“Lock her up and keep her on bread and,
water until she is willing to do as she is bid!” i

cried Stoddard anfiilyi. “By Jovel sir, I tell
a a

on what it is—if daughter inclined to
disobedient, I’d make her come to time, or
I’d flog the life out of her just the same as it she ,
was a refractory mule.” ' '
. “I’d do it in a moment, of course,” the old
man observed, “ tor I haven't got any more pa-
tience with such a thing than you have; but be
old woman, her mother, you know, is dread- .
fully set in her way, and I reckon she’d kick
up a row if I tried anything of that kind.”

“ Oh, you’ve got to contend with both the old
woman and the girl, then!" exclaimed Stoddard ‘
contem tnously.

“ We i, it ain’t quite so bad as that. The old
woman is on your side fast enough, but i doubt

’ whether she would agree to harsh measures,

such as starving and flogging, you know. She
thinks we can persuade her. ' *
“ Perhaps it might be done if we could aflord
to wait ayear or two for it, but lam not will-
ing to do that. I want the thing settled within
a couple of weeks at the furthest—and, look-
yel Richardson, you must bring the girl to

terms.

“ I will if I kin, but if so be as how she won‘t
have it, what kin 1 do!” and there was a dog-
gedness in the we the old man put the ques-:
lion that plainly .rruye‘d he was annoyed.

“By the way, Richardson, from what part
of the East did you come?” asked the colonel,
abruptly.

“ Why from Illinov,” and there was surprise
in the old man‘s tone, as if he wondered why
the uestion was asked.

“ h, I thought you was from Montgomery,
Alabama." .

“ Never was that in my life i” and .now there
was general alarm in the voice.

“I was goin to put you in the way of a good
thin . A Jae son Smith, of Montgomery, ab-
Iwnged from Montgomery about two years ago
with some ten thousand dollars that he fraudu-

‘ ’ Iently got'hie hands upon, came toFrisco, lost
' ahoutall his money in smhling and then fled
wumm/ heardthe

were,

after him. I met the partyln Frisco on this
trip. They’re offering a reward of a thousand
for the ca ture of the man. He was accom-
nied in is flight by his wife and daughter.
I we could get our hands on him, old man, we
could make a strike.”
“ Yes; but we don’t want to bother ourselves
shagitnit. You can depend, I’ll fix the girl all
rig t.

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
JUSTICE AT LAST.

Tm! two men, having arrived at an under-
standing, resumed their walk, and the involun-
gary listeners heard no more of the conversa-

on. , \
After the colonel and the hotel-keeper got
away to a safe distance, the partnerscame from
their retreat in the bushes. _

“By gosh! the colonel has got a rin in the
old man’s nose, hasn't he?" the Yan ee ob-
served, as the pair proceeded toward the

hotel.

“ It looks like it.”

“ I allers felt sure that Richardson was a
mean scamp. The idea of his levanting with
ten thousand dollars, and then gitting ri of it

amblin .” ’

“Ill gotl ill gone, you know.”

“ I say, if you settle Stoddard. you’ll be able
to work the old man all right; for you‘ll
havlewjest as big a pull .on him as the 001-
one .

“ Yes; and with such an old rascal, I should-
n’t hesitate to use the knowledge. Isn’t it strange
that such a vile old wretch should have so beau:
tiful and good a child?" ’

Abner agreed that it was wonderful and after "3

a few more words of unimportant conversation
the pair entered the hotel.

The place was well filled with minors. drink—
ing, smoking, some playing cards and others
engaged in conversation.

he colonel and‘the old man stood leaning
against the bar and their eyes fell upon the
artners the moment they entered.

Stoddard had made up his mind to bring mat-
ters to a head. He had resolved to pick a (plan
rel with the youth and drive him from the
camp, so after the two were fairly in the room
he stepped forward and said;

“Gentlemen, as you are all friends of mine
andI know you lake an interest in my welfare
let me announce to you that an important
event is about to occur in my life. I’m ing to
be married, fellow-citirpns, and as it wi be the
first marriage that has ever taken place in this

'camp I intend to‘ceiebrafe this remmony in a

style that will make all of you open your eyes.
Ihereby invite every man in the room to the
wedding and I promise you that you shall have
a‘bang-up time. You are all acquainted with
the bride, gentlemen. it is the daughter of our
worth friend here, Richardson," and he patted
the 01 man on the shoulder. "Now, gentle-
men, I want every man in the room to take a
drink at my expense and congratulate me upon
the upmachinz event.”

The keeper hastened to set out the bottles
and glasses while the miners hooked up to th
bar. the two partners excepted. ,

 

 

 

 

"‘74:" . -: e

Young Dick Talbot.

 

The colonel‘had his eyes upon them, for this
invitation to drink was only a cunning device
on his part to bring about a quarrel.

He felt rfectly sure that the two would de-
cline his rest and so give him a chance to
brin on an altercation.

“ allo, ain’t you two going to h’ist in a little
. poison at my expense and congratulate me
upon my agprouohing union?" he asked, com—
ing upto w are the two stood quietly in the
background, a somvl upon his face.

“ As far as I am concerned, l’m much obliged
to you for your invitation,’ Dick answered,
“ but I hope (you will excuse me. You know
that I don t rink, and so no discourtesy is in-
tended by my refusal.

“You don’t like the idea of the marriage
though, do you?” the colonel exclaimed, planting
himself squarely in front of the youth, and Bur»
veyiag him with an evil 9 e.

‘ ell now, really, I on’t know as that is
any of w your business,” the youth replied,
bluntly. “I hav ’t made any objection that
I know of; and as far as my private thoughts
are concerned, those are my own property.”

“ Oh, I s’ ose it’s rather rough to take our
girl away rom you, but such things will a};-
pen. The idea, gentlemen, of this young who p
daring to lift his eyes to such a girl as our friend
Richardson’s daughter. Bahl she wouldn’t
wipe her feet on you!” Stoddard cried, taunt-
iugly, while all in the room looked on in won-
der, for they anticipated that these rude words
would lead to a quarrel.

, “ Oh, she wouldn’t!” exclaimed Talbot. ban—
teringly, but at the same time a wild, fierce
look shape in his eyes. “Well, whether she
would or not, 1 can tell you one thing, and that
is, neither she nor any other woman will ever
get the chance; but, 1 say, colonel, how can on
marr anybody with that wife of .yours in o-
bile, I‘OR) Whom you have never obtained a di-
vorceénalthough you have been separated for
years

Stoddard grew white in the face, and then
dark With rage.

The shot was entirel unexpected, and struck
home. He clinched is Eaims together, and

glared fiercelylat the yout . ‘

“You lie, you scoundrel, you lie, and you
know you do!” and Stoddard, convulsed with
passion, shook his list in Talbot’s face.

But the youth only laughed contemptuously.

He knew the game of the colonel as well as
though he had planned it himself.

Stoddard’s idea was to provoke him into strik-
ing a blow, then under the excuse of the assault,
the colonel could drew his revolver, and shoot
him down in cold blood.

“ No lie, but truth, honest, gospel truth—and
that is the reason that you are so an ry about
the matter," the youth replied. “ on are a
miserable old wretch, and you ought to be
ashamed of yourself to attempt to deceive a
your) and innocent girl. You know you can’t

egal y marry her, and the ceremony will not
be anything but a fraud.”
‘ Stoddard was foartully exasperated, and de-
termined, since words did not seem to be of any
avail, to provoke the young men to attack him

3

 

bg‘ deeds,‘so that he would be enabled to get a. ‘
c ance to use his pistol, and so end the matter.

“You young cub of Hades! I’ll wring your
nose olfl" he cried, springing u n Talbot.

It was his intention to provo e a blow, for he
felt sure the youth would resent the insult.

The result more than justified his expecta—
tions, for be received a stroke such as never had
fallen upon his person before. '

With a single powerful blow, planted squarely
between the eyes, Dick lifted the cplonel from
his feet and hurled him backward as if he had
been shot. » _

Down went the colonel all in a heap and then
gasping for breath and half-blinded from the
eflect of the terrible blow, he sto zered to his
feet drawing his revolver and coo ing it as he

rose. «

And Talbot, rceiving the motion, also drew
his weapon an raised the hammer.

The lookerson scattered.

Some, who were near the door, rushed out
into the street, others vaulted through the u in
dows, taking glass, sash and all with them in
their eager haste, a few found rottelion 'b--~
hind the her, over which they eaped in hot
eagsmess to get out of the way of the bullets.

hile a few almost paralyzed by fear crouch-
ed in the corners, glaring with staring eyes on
on the scene. 

Two men only held their places, the faithful
Yankee, who, reckless of danger. stood r-nnl‘ ' I
catch Dick in case he should be hurt, and the old
hotel-kee r who gazed upon the contestants
with straining eyeballs.

The antagonists were not ten feet apart when
both fired simultaneously.

For the first ti l e in his life the veteran duel
ist, Colonel S.odda.rd, missed the mark for which

, he aimed—the heart of his opponent: but the
‘ terrible stroke he had recoived had dammed the

right of both of his eyes and sorendered his aim
uncertain.

The bullet fore a. hole through T‘lhot’s side,
inflicting a flesh wound, painful bu not at all
dangerous. ,

But the leaden missile of our hero went as
true to its mark as the magnet is to the pole.

He had realized that it was a duel to the death,
and he had fired tokill.

It was either his life. or the colonel’s, and in
self-defense he had slain his fee. 4 _

Stoddard stood erect for a moment after re-
ceiving the hall, his face like marble; he on-
deavored to raise the revolver for another shot,
for etting that it was not cooked, then with-a
slig t gasp he fell forward on his face.

There was a moment’s ause, then, as the
fallen man did not stir, t e lockers-on came
hurrying to his side. i - 1

They turned him over on his back.

He was stone dead, the ball had gone directly'
through the heart.

5‘ He’s 'gonel" exolaimed one of the miners,
who had been the first to examine the fallen
man. ‘

“I call upon you all to witness, gentlemen,
that this quarrel was forced upon me!” the

, {goth exclaimed, “ and that from the he inning
strictly

the end I have noted in self efense

 

Young Dick Talbot.

 

I'm sorry that I had to kill the man, but if
I hadn’t he would have ended me. is was
It square fight and 1 hope no man here will
r say that I attempted to take any unfair advaxr

ta .”

g‘e‘Yeu, yes, a. fair fight!” exclaimed halt a.
dozen of the bystanders and then the partners
withdrew. .

The duel was the talk of the town next day
and after the colonel was decently buried old
Richardson took into his head that a. Vigilance
Committee ought to he raised to try Dick for
killing the colonel, but while he was trying to

talk the matter up, the Yankee quietly called '

upon him in regard to a certain party who had
levanted from Montgomery, Aln'mmo, with
moneys not his own, and the hotel-keeper was
glad to shut up.

The camp really breathed freer after the
colonel’: death, all justified Dick’s actions, and
when a. meeting was c:lled to choose a. new
alealde he was unanimously elected.

Stoddard’s mining claims were all sold at
auction, for as there wasn’t anybody to repre-
sent him, the miners took it upon themselves to
settle ‘up his alfuirs.

Dick and his partner secured one of the best
claims of the lot, and in a single month from
the time of the duel the two were on the high
road to prosperity. .

Old Richardson. too, said that if his daughter
took a fancy to Dick he should not object.

ador the htory of a. boy’s rough-and-
tumble lire firom New York to California is
told, and so for the present we lay down the

pen.

The after adventures of daring Dick Talbot
in the golden land from the time he became the
alcalde of Frenchman's Flat until he figured by
the side of the Reese River as Overland Kit, We
may hereafter tell,

\ m END.

" DIME "DIALOGUES um SPEAKERS

FOR 3 0110 0L EXHIBI TIONS
AN?) 11 0A! E ENTER TA INMEN TS.

Dialogues, Nos. 1 to 38 inclusive, 15 to 25 popu-
l rdialogues and dramas in each book. Each vol-
ume 100 pages 12mo. '

Speakers, Nos. 1 to :35 inclusive. Each speaker
100 pages 12mo. containing from 50 to 75 pieces.

———— M
Y0 UNG PEOPLE’S SEMI I178.
Dime Book or Wintei- Sports.
' Dime Book of Summer Athletic Sports
Dime Genta' Letter Writer.
Dune Book of Eti uette.
Dime Book 0 Verses. '
Dime Book of Dreams.

. Dime Fortune Teller.
Dime Lsdies’ Letter Writer.
‘ Dime Iovers’Casket. .
Dime BelLRoom Com anion.
Dime Book of 1 Games. I
Dlm‘Chess Instructor.
‘ Dune Book of Beauty.
IQ’The above books ann sold b newsdealen
be sent, pow-para. to any radii

W‘mfifim 3““?

 

Half-Dime Singer’s Library =

1 WHOA. Emu! and 59 other Songs.

2 CMAIN Cow and 57 otherSongs.

8 TulGArNssorw’ BAT and 62 other Songs.

4 Joann Mono»: and 60 other Songs.

5 I’LL Bram You Wrrn A FEAer and 62 others.
6 Quentin 'rnn Cmnnend 56 otherSongs.

7 Tim Bnnm or ROCKAWAY and 52 other Songs.

8 YOUNG FnLnAn. YOU’RE Too FRESH and 60 othe§s
9 SKY YOUNG GIRL and 65 other Songs.

10 1‘14 rm: GOVERNOR’S ONLY SON and 58 other Songs_
11 My FAN and 65 other Songs.

12 Coum’ Tnno' run RYE and 55 other Songs.

13 Tan ROLLIGKING InxsmuN and 59 other Songs.

14 OLD Doe TRAY and 62 other Songs...

15 WHOA. Camus and 59 other Songs.

16 IN ms WHEAT By AND B! and 62 other Bongo.
17 NANCY LE]: and 58 other Songs.

18 I’m was Boy 'mA'r’s BoUNo T0 BLAZE and 57 others.
19 Tin: Two OnrnANs and 59 other Songs.

20 WHAT Ann was WILD WAvns SAYING. Sls'l‘ml
, anth other Songs.

21 lNDIGNANr \PQLLY Woo and 59 other Songs.

22 THE OLD ARM-CHAIR. and 58 other Songs.

28 ON Comm ISLAND BEACH and 58 other Songs,

24 OLD SIMON, THE Ho'r-ConN MAN and 60 others.

25 I’M IN LOVE and 56 other Songs.

25 PARADE or m GUARDS and 56 other Songs.

9‘! Yo. Hmvn, Hot and 60 other Songs.

28 '1‘me Nnvnn Do TO Gm rr on So and 60 others.

29 BLUE BONNnrs Ovm 'rnn Boson and 54 others.

30 Ten Mun.an LAUGHING MAN and 56 other Songs.

31 SNEET FORGET-Mllva and 55 other Sc Dgs.

32 Leona: BABY MINE and 53 other Songs.

33 DD BAN-10 An DE INSTRUMENT FOR in and 53 othern.

34 TAFE'Y and 50 other Songs.

35 J US! To PLEASE 'rrm Boys and 52 other Songs.

36 SKATING ON ON]: in mm Gowns and 52 others.

87 Kononnn KRANKS and 59 other Songs.

38 Nu. DnepmANDUn and 58 other Songs.

89 THE GIRL I Lnrr BEHIND Mn and 50 other Songs

40 'sz our A Lan FADE!) Fwwzn and 50 others

41 Funny WBILHELMINA and 80 other Songs.

43 DANGING IN ran BARN and 68 other Songs.

48'H. M. S. Pumas, columns, and 11. other Songs
Sold everywhere by Newedealers, at five cents ‘

per copy. or heat post-paid, to any address. on re-

ceipt of Sin: omit per num ber. ’

s ‘ BEADLE AND. ADAMS. P17314311!“ , 

«as vim-munrms V

/ ‘ '« ' '

 

ann’s VPoo‘xn'r LIBRARY. ’

 

r . l
310 Kit, the Girl Ca. tain; or. The Mad Sailor’s 351Roc Mountain Joe; or. Deacon Simplicity on
Legacy. By 001. remiss In aham. the ar-path. By Col. '1‘. H. Monstery. ‘
311 Fun Fred in Texas. By Buc 'Skin Sum. 352 New Yorkfl‘im; or, T e Boss or the Boulevard.
312 The Detective Road‘Agent; or. The Miners 0! EV Charles Morris. '
A Sassafras City. By Edward L. Wheeler. 353 The Girl Pilot; 01-, Ben, the Reef-Runner, By
A. 313 Honest J ack's Protege; or, The Dwarf’s Scheme. Roger Star buck.
, By Philip S. Warne 351 Joe. the Boy Stage-Driver; or, Nick Hicken‘s
y l) 314 Clip the Boy Sheriff; or, The Two Crooks of Cunning By Mn; E. L Sr. Vmin.
\ Montana“ By Edward Willett. 355 Texas Frank’s Lrong‘; or, The Girl Mustang
. 315 Tom theArizonn Sport: or. Howling Hunk from Rider. Bv Bucks in am.
Hart Luck. By Major E. L. St. Vrain. 356 Idaho Ned. Detective; or, The Mineis 0! Tarpot
316 The Street Arab Detective; or, Dick Dorgan’s City. By Edward L. Wheeler.
Double Dealing. By Charles Mortis. I 357 Guy. the Boy Miner; or. Rocky Mountain Lill.
31? Buckskin Ben of Texas; or, Single Eye’s Plucky By Colonel Pren'iss Ingraham.
Pards. By Buckskin Sam. 358 Jer‘ey Joe, the Old Tar; or. tle Wrecttr’s
V318 Colomdo Charlie’s Detective Dash; or, The Protege. By Mrs. Orin James. .
Cattle King's. By Edward L. Wheeler. 359 Dandy Dick‘s Dash; or. The Boy Cnttle~King.
819 Frisky Fran': in Idaho: or, Olil Sklnflint the By Oll Oumes.
Shadowcr. By Roger Starbuck. 360 Jim’s Big Bonanza; or, Jake Dodd and His
, 320 Cool Sam’s Girl Par-d; or, CZLleill Dick and His Gang. 3' W. J. Hamilton.
Texans. By T. C. Hai‘haugh. 361 Oregon Phil, the Sport; or, The Marshal of Two
821 Billy. the Kid from Frisco; or, Silver Mask’s Bits. By Philip S. Waine.
Cleiv. ByJI. C. Cowdrick. 352 Kit, the Boolblack Detective; or, From Phila-
322 Fred Flyer, Detective; or. Abe Blizzard on Deck. delphia to the Rockies. By Edward L.
, . By Charles Morris. ' Wheeler. r
323 Dead Shot Ike in Montana; or. Hez Helper, the 363 The Ocean Racer; or, Trusty Tom, the Tar. By
. , Yankee Pnrd. By Roger Star-buck. , T. C. Hm-baugh. \
324 Kit, the Denver Sport; or. The Bonanza Miner 361 Fritz’s Old Score; or, Sib Cone's Right Bower.
‘ King. By Edward L. Wheeler. ' By Ned Buntline. 
825 Dusky Darrell the Camp Detective; or, The 365 Greek Shot Harr ; or. The Masked Rider. By
Danny’s Daring Dash. By Edwin Emerson. Colonel Prentiss ngrsham.
326 Roy. the Boy Cruiser: or, The Water Wolf 366 Gold Dust Rock. the thirlwind of the Mines.
V Wreckers. By Colonel Prentiss lngrahum. . By G. Waldo Browne. x
327 Ned, the Roving Minor; or, Arkansaw Jack‘s 367 Fred’s Bold Gama; or, The Cave Treasure. By
Match. By Hurry Haz H‘ll. ' Paul Bibbs. ‘ >
.328 Rocky Ben’s Band; or, Big Pete‘s Big Haul. By 363 Jim. the Sport in Wakemp: on Foghorn Fan to
-—‘329 givi' $8523.10 Wrestler n Maj E L St me Fm" By Edward 1" WhWk" '
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ y ' ' ' ' ' 369 Captain Blake’s Jonah; or, Harry, the Cabin

ruin, .
330 The Denver Sport‘s Racket; or, Kit's Big Boom. Boy- B-V Roger Harm“-
B Edward L. Whel ler. 370 Denver Kit‘s Double; or, The Giant Miner of the
3‘31 '1‘ ie goal? Du‘tl‘ftlv?; olr. The Smugng Shadow, Gulch. By Major H. B. Stoddard.
or. y ogr'r .‘tarmo'. ‘ .) _ ,
332 Dakota. Dan in Cum on City; or. Colorado Kate‘s 871 gylgng‘r‘ Danger D0" Of Dynamxm’
Check. By Phil p S. Wm‘ne. , ,._’ ., l ‘ . ’ I ,
333 Boothlzwk Ben. the Detective; or. Pooler Jim 3” "l" 5 ‘a 9‘“ .5 P111513 m‘n The Fl“ 0‘ the Red
and His P i131. By Anthony P. Morris. HEM-"- l'y (401m)” remiss mgr“. am-
331 Frisco Tom on Deck; or. The Gollen Gate Smug- 8‘3 Larry O'Lynnfs Dash; or, Kyle, th’e Renegade.
‘ ' , 3 5 filers}; lly‘Geotrgu lllli-nryPMorlse. ‘ T“ P] k Ly Joseph F. Henderson.
L ' an “‘1’ Y' '? ’5“ "I ; 0’" e "C y 374 Jim. lbh Sport’ Big: Boongnr. The Bonanza.
‘ Parson. ByJ. htanlov Hell’ldlsoll. King‘s Rival. 1g. Edward L. “vhf/Met

335 Fred, the S on. in Brimstone liar Cam : or. _ .
The Boston rem-egg Confedm-ate_ By (L1H 3 5 liowory Bob, Detec'we; or. Bianca, the Tam-

i Whmflm.’ , bonrineflirl. By Jo Pierce.
837 DaisyDave the Colorado Gul ot; or. The Boss 3’6 Buckskin Dick’s Clean Sweep: nr,‘ Jnnathan ‘
of Dead Line City. lily T: C. Ilzu'lmngh. ' Jenks‘ Still Hunt, By 001. A thur F. Holt.
388 TM‘I‘II: Gagging} gang? 11:9. the ml“ 377 The Deadwood Sporls. ny Livu’. s. G. Lansing.
839 Rardo. thovBongypsy; 'or. Reckless Rolf‘s Re- 37‘   S‘i‘ddle Prmc‘fi BY 00101181
volt. :y \ m. . ’utten. ‘" - . ~
340 Bill Bubblw's Big Score: or, Tim, the Tramp. 379 Dick.th Stowawaymr. A Yankee Boy's Strange
By Charles Morris. , (wisp. By Charles Morris. ’
841 Colorado Steve. 3 posh; or, Old Buncomh 5 Sum ago Yofin Dick Talbot. or. A B y.s.Rongh and
Sh“- By Pm“? 5- W "‘9' - . 'l‘umh n Fi ht from ew Y '1']: to Cal‘tor Ya I’ '
842 gnuR—Thcg. Sam; or, Ned Norrls’s Nettle. By Amen “w in?“ " l ' l l ' '3
'-ucsnam. . - v" ~ ‘
343 ike‘ the Bower Deticrive: or. Pele: Praucnr 381 Dandy Bill’s Doomf or. Deerhunter, Ilia Buy .
(1}; Vermont. By’lfidward L. W healer. Scout 0! the Great North Woods. By Ull (looms.
344 The Drummer Sport; or. (_‘a.]>toin Dasher‘s Droll 382 Wide-Awake C‘eor e. the Boy Pioneer. or. Life
Dilemma. By Edward VVIIlet'-_ " in 3 Log Cabin. 1 y Edward Willet.
8/16 anues, the Hardpan Detective' or. Captain Readymay 6.

Friscorhe Road- \zont. ByJ. C. owdrick. . i , . ‘
846 Joe. the Chicago Arab; or, A lloy of the Times. 383 $332,133.];th PIS'OI me9' By C01“ 6‘ Pmnt‘s“

l3 ' Charles Morris.

B47 windy Herbert‘s PrlZe; or The Girl Captain’s R My May;13'
Revenge. By Col. Prentiss nzrahnm. A New [Mlle Every WednemMy.

348 Sharp‘ShOO’m‘ Frank? 0“. T‘le Young Texan Burma's Pocan Linhmy is for sale by all News-
PM‘CIS- BY BUCkskin Ham. dealers five cents per copy, or sent by mail on re-

-~ 849 13mg; 511%  or, All. the Colorado Guide. can)“, six cents each, ' ‘

r i a. . .‘.ra.in. v . .

850 min the Slab City S art; or. The Detective‘s 3w”: A” fun“! Pubmher"!
.313 Scoop, By E. L. eeler. 98 William Street. New York. ,