Copyrighted, 1885, by BIADLI AND Alums. Entered M. m: rust. crime at New York, N. Y., M Second Class Mull Mallet. July 4,1885.

 

2.r Published Week] b Beadle and Adams 1’ l, ,
Vol. V. 03313:; NO. 98 WILLZ‘MYST" NEW YORK. , Flvotccgnta. N0. 64-

YOUNG DICK TALBOT; °"r:°:°::x::: 3:31:33?“

BY ALBERT. W. AIKEN,
AUTHOR 01" “ INJUN DICK,” “CAPTAIN DICK TALBOT,” “ TALBOT OF CINNABAR,” ETC.

 

6,; ,14
1M“


l

I.

II I ’

“.1517!
V‘

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, \ \

 

TALBOT, WITH WONDERFUL QI’ICKNESS, CAUGHT THE RUFFIAN BY THE NOSE AND
GAVE IT SUCH A T‘VIST AS MADE HIM ROAR “'ITE PAIN.

 

 

  

Young Dick Talbot-

 

wYoung Dick Talbot;

A Boy’s Rough and Tumble Fight
born New York to California.

' BY ALBERT W. AIKEN,

Airmen or “OVERLAND m." “ noon norm-
nnt’noa,” “nNrUCK, ma sroar,” “IN!
JUN max,” “CAPTAIN DICK manor,”

“ GOLD DAN," “TALBOT or CINNA-
nAa,” “nan RICHARD,” “Kri-
cansox, KING or GUIDES,”

mm, are.

CHAPTER I.
ram AND SON.
0113 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 lnjun Dick, com-
mences in New York city some forty years

         

 

 

ago.
- ,f' At that time the great metroElis was but a
" weakling city compared to w at it is now;
‘Fortieth street bounded its northern limit, and
many well-to-do people dwelt in the down-town
streets now given up to the demands of trade.
East Broadway was then a fine street, many
wealthy merchants had their homes there. and
smon the rest were two brothers, Patrick and

in business.

rihmen were they liy birth, natives of the
“ Black North,” as the rotestant provinces in
*‘ ' ‘ , _ the-northern art of Ireland used to be termed

. by the Euglis officers who were always very
much averse to being detailed for duty there,
as the inhabitants were cold and formal in their'
manners adecided contrast to the fun-loving
pea le of the southern towns.
. '1‘ two brothers were good representatives

of the cold north, both had.been married to

south of Ireland girls, both had lost their wives,
but had a child apiece to remind them of their
hel mates.

atrick, the elder brother, had a son, a boy

~11

named Patrick also like his sire.
Daniel was blessed with a daughter, a blue-
, olden-haired beauty, a perfect little fairy
a lcalled Bernice.
The children were a most decided contrast to
their fathers, taking’eafter their warm-hearted ‘
southern mothers, ing rash, impulsive and
l)lffiethcir wanting in the cold reserve and
out caution of their sires.
Bernice was but a child, being nearly ten

Danie Gwyne, partnersin a flourishing import- ‘

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

fiosition in his father’s busineu, he and his sire
ad been drawing further and further apart.
Not but the be attended strictly to his duties,
but day by day 6 more clearly s owed that he
had a will of his own, and was not disposed to
yield implicitly to all his father’s whims.
1, 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 sli htest wish, as he fancied he per-

ceived an inc nation on his son’s part to do as
i be pleased. '

As time went on, there were hot words every
now and then 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.

i The old man was really not aware of this for
,he believed he was acting strictly for his son’s
ood; and mourned greatly at the rashness of his
mpulsive son, never dreaming that he, 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 he
was vexing the really noble
‘ near to the verge of open rebellion.
1 0n the particular night that our story com-
mences, there was an open rupture between the
, two, for the old man, yieldin to a mean im—
‘ pulse had placed a spy upon his son and the re-
port made by this creature, excited him almost
to madness.

After the fashion of the race from which he

rung old Patrick Gwyne held a family coun-
g antd young Patrick was cited to appear be-

ore l .

In the somber parlor sat the two brothers, the
golden-haired fairy, Bernice, was nestled in an
old-fashioned arm-chair in a corner,a look of
apprehension upon her beautiful features, and
young Patrick, with a mud look upon his hand-
some face, faced his udges with an undaunted

nnen. -

Young Gw e at this time had just reached
his eighteent year, and being extremely well
developed for his a e was an almost perfect
specimen of youthfu manly beauty.

He stood fully five feet eight high weighed
about one hundred and thirty poun , was as
spr ‘ as a c at, and as subtle as a snake.

ls face was a handsome one, with its regular
features, all clearly cut his dark blue-black
eyes and brown-black hair, clustering in crispy
nnglets close to his perfectly shaped head, and
its right honest expression.

A yout , right at the entrance of his worldly
path, with a great future before him, if all went

3 well, for he was one of nature’s nobleman.

A dark scowl came over the face of the father
as he surveyed his son.
The spirit of independence so plainly visible

 

years younger than her cousin, Patrick.

She was the idol of both her father and ,
uncle, the latter being especially drawn toward 9
her. because he fancied he had good cause to bel
dissatisfied with his son.

,, , The wflkeim ulsive traits did not seem to be
V so had in r1 as they appeared in the boy.

Ever slow you Patrick was fifteen years

old. whsnhsleft 001 to take a subordinate

in the boy’s appearance made him angry; he
would have fain seen the youth tremble and
quail beneath his frown. ‘

The uncle too shook his head in asolemn man-
ner. Less hard b nature than his brother yet
he believed him 0 he in the right and deeply

' regretted that his unlucky nephew by his flee-
so

less conduct should

«use so good a fat
much trouble.

spirit of his boy -

      
    
  
    
    
 
    
   
    
   
   
  
 
 
   
    
    
   
  
   
 
 
 
   
     
   
   
     
    

Young Dick Talbot. 8

an

 

“So, you have come? oth 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
the boy, perfectly cool and sel -possessed.

“U n my word, young man, you have the
impu ence of Satan himself!” exclaimed old
Patrick, enraged at the gallant bearing of the
yout .

“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?”

“ 1 am not aware, sir, that I have done any-
thinfi of the kind."

“ 0 you dare to tell me that you have yield—
ed im licit obedience to all my wishes?” cried
the ol man in a rage, shaking his uplifted fln-
ger 1n warning.

“ All your wishes, sir, that I ought to respect,
I havs 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 consults himself about the matter. He obeys
me when it suits him, and when it doesn’t suit
him. I may go ban for all he cares.”

“Upon my wor .it is a shamel” interposed
the uncle. “ Oh, Patrick, my boy, is it you
that ought to set yourself ug in opposition to
the will of your father?” and e shook his head
in the most doleful manner.

“ And what, in Heaven’s name, am I?” cried
young Patrick, vehemently. “ A slave, with
no will of my own—no right to do aught 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 though I was nothing but a boy of
ten ,7

“ Patrick, you are upon the downward path i”
cried the father solemnly. “If you go on in
your dissolnte course, (you will surely come to

hanged in the en ., You will bring hitter
sorrow and shame not only upon yourself but
upon all who hear 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 put in solitary confinement, and
fed upon bread and water, until I had broken
this satan-like spirit which has grown up within
you. 1

“Maybe you think that I do not know of
your goings-0n; you think I am ignorant of
the downward path that your feet have been
trending for the past three or four years.

“ But I know more than you dream of. I’ve
had a sp upon your track. and I know every-
thin . n’t that true, brother Daniel!"

“ 8!. yea,” responded the uncle, with a
groan.

The younger brother was but an echo of ,

 

the elder, always agreeing with him in every-

thm . -

“ five had you watched!” continued the old ~
man, rowing more and more violent, as he re-
flectecf upon his wrongs. “ Think of that—think
of the shame of itl Compelled to put a spy upon
my own soul”

" But there wasn’t any necessity of doing
an thing of the kind 1” cried the young man
in ignantly 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 on desired to know. Whatever my faults
may , father, duplicity is not one of them. I
am of your blood, and tradition says there never
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 youi”

“ I do not know of course 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.
amen commons.

“You think to hoodwink me b this braver
dol” exclaimed the old man fearfu ly exaspera-
ted, “ but you’ll crouch and tremble when you,
discover that I know ever thing." -

" No. father, to crouch 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 , . '

inst what I considered tobe

youth, rebelling a
have been led into indisera-

unjust treatment,

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 heart
he knew that every word was true.

He had attemptei to reduce his proud, high-
spirited son to the abject condition of aslave;
was ita wonder that such a boy should have
resented the ill-treatment! |

“ Ah, matters have come to aiine state indeed
when a scapegraoe son dares to u braid his ‘
father!" 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,
but endeavored to bring you up likeadeoent
boy. But it’s all over now. My eyes are open
at last, thank Heaven! and I’ll soon make an v
end of this disgraceful shame.” ’

“ If on apply those words to me, father, I .
can on y say that I have not done anything to
merit them.

“ Oh. you hav’n’tl” exclaimed old Gwyne, -
endeayoring to work himself, up into a passion, .
for he teltthst hewss in th‘ewrong and was

.\..

 

 ‘ no more trouble than if he was a big boy. The

    

‘ Young Dick Talbot.

 

trying to lash himself into a fury so as to stifle ‘
the voice of conscience.

“No, sir, I have not; I have been foolish, I .
own, but not in the least degree criminal,”.
:nlswered the boy, firmly, yet perfectly respect- 
u

“Ah, you’ll change your tune in a moment
when you find out that Iknow all about on!
ObI it’s dead I would rather see you than ave 1
you live to bring disgrace and shame on me ‘
n my old age. Are you not acard-player— 1
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-
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
associate of gamblers.”

“But there‘s not one of them that can play
cards with you; you always win, and that
roves that you cheat!” thundered the father,

ercely.

f‘ ISO, sir, forgive me for being obliged to con-
tradict you so abruptly. but it doesn‘t rove
anything of the kind. It only shows t at l
I have a natural talent and skill for such thirga.
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, it is a harmless sport and there
again you must blame nature which has blessed
3.1: V’thh quick and correct eyes and nerves of

n. .
“ And you’re a boxer, tool” exclaimed the
father in a tone of en reme contempt. “They
‘ lay there is no one in t e club that can stand u
against you, that you’ve an arm like iron an
can lay out the biggest man there is there with

‘ next thing 1 know you’ll be in training for a
prizerfight, I sup .”

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

da .”

3,011,, you can find plent of reasons no doubt,
but I ob act to all these ittle innocent amuse-
ments. ’11 not have ye grow u to bee dis-

to me in in old 9, a pisto —shot, a prize-
fighterfi a gamb er, an a drunkard too no
doubt.

, “No. father, no, stop there!” exclaimed the
boy, warmly, his pride touched by the unjust
‘ accusation. “No one can say with truth that I
ever trouble liquor: I am strictl temperate,
not only from chorce, but because [ydon‘t really ‘
care for it; liquor to me is more like medicine
than anything else.” i
’ “ The only virtue ou’ve got on wouldn’t
have if you could h p yourseli,’ sneered the
old man. 1

 

"You are unjus father, as you have been to
me for ears, so it useless for me to re 13*.”

“ UnJustl” cried the father, fiercely “ cause
I want to bring you ug in the rig twa . and
set my face a must all t is wicked folly. hen
I was a boy ad 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 such wicked-
1:11:32: ” Your uncle, Daniel, can bear witness to

8.

The brother solemnly nodded his head.

“ And that is the reason why I am now a
thriving man; but ou—what will you ever
make, oing on in this evil wa i"

“Do not perform all the uties allotted to
me to your satisfaction!"

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

‘Father, I will not attempt to answer 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-
thin I "can say will induce you to alter your
0 n on. \

I““No—for I know the truth, and all . our
smooth speeches will not explain away the acts.
Now listen to me. We four in this room are
all now living on earth who hear the Gwyne
blood in their veins.

“It has always been understood between,

your uncle and myself that one of these days, if
you proved worthy of the trust, you should be-
come the husband of Bernice, and so kee in-
tact the fortune that 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.

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

“ k at Thomas Atherford, your fellow-
clerkl There is a model young man for you.

He’ll rise, mark me; while you will sink until

i you reach a pan rs grave.”

“ Father, it is eneath me to attemgt to be-
little even a man whom I thorough] espise_—-
yet in this instance I must say that , to rise in
this life, I must take pattern by such a sneaking,
cringingcuras Thomas Atherford, then 1 think
I would rather remain a poor man all my life.
You believe in him because, for the sake of our
favor, he is willing to even kiss the ground w ere
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 he 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 exam les that you would
do well to profit byl” ‘ father exclaimed,
haughtily.

/

 
  

     

new.

i
t
, \

 

Young Dick Talbot. 5 ‘ 

\. ...

 

"‘ You are blind, I see, to the faults of every
bne excepting the unfortunate soul unluclgy
enough to be your son,” the boy remarked, bit-

terl . ,

“§?ou’ll not better your case by attempting to
injure those two upright youn men—and now
listen to my determination in t is matter,” said
the old man, with all the sternness of a judge.
“1 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 hu—
miliate you, and see if I cannot drive out this
pride and break your stubborn will.

“And astime goes on, if I see that you are

turning over a new leaf and leading a diflerent ‘

life, I will remote you gradually asl see you
are deserving of favor. But all your habits
of life must be changed. No more of these fine
clothes; you must dress as a porter would dress.

Straight from the house to the store you must v
o, and when your work is done you must re- _

urn immediately to the house again. I must
have an account of how you pass every hour in
the day from the time you get up, until you re-
tire to rest again.”

“ And if I do not submit to these harsh oondi- 

tions?” the young man asked.

lieved that if they could remove young Patrick . -
from the store, their chance for advancement
was certain, and so they plotted with satanic. \
like cunning. ~
For over three years it had been oageing on.
Thomas assed in the store as a in el young
‘ man whi e Robert went out of his we 'to make
the young man familiar with all the list life of
the great cit . He it was who introduced‘ him
to the socia club, and although there wasn’t
anything wrong about it, for all the members
were goung men of good standin who had '
bande themselves together for fellowship '
and mutual enjoyment, yet the schemers fondly
, hoped it would prove the stepping-stone to
wilder pleasures such as no prudent young man , _ i
should indulge in. ~ 3 ‘
The affair did not progress, though, as the ' »
" l
l
l
l

precious pair had anticipated. 1 r .
With all the vigor of well-developed youth 
the boy entered into the sports which the social ‘
club fostered. As a card-player he was singu» 
larly expert, seemed to be able to do about as
, he leased with the pieces of pasteboard, and A
’ cou d perform more tricks than any juggler or .‘
i card-s

.
nrp in the land.  I
As a pistol-shot he became renowned, and 
with the boxing-gloves, the retired pugllist who ,  

“Then you are no longer a son of mine!" T taught the club, admitted he was a “terror.”

cried the old man, sternly. “I disown youl

You must go forth from this house and never ‘ did not drink‘ nothing would induce him to

But at this point his wildness stopped“ He 

return to it while the breath of life is in my . gamble. and m expertnegs in the “manly m g; ,

“Oh “11616. you “71111101? be SO 0709] 1” WBHEd J an ardent desire to keep out of all quarrels.

the child, Bernice, her big blue eyes filled with

i
bodvl” ? of self-defense” seemed only toinspire him with ' ' I g
l

tears- I to the father’s ears, thanks to the two schemers, ,’

This was the truth but the stories that came 

 

“ Be silent. my dear. figs must not plead for 2 represented the boy in the worst possible light,

this wretched, stubborn
man.

“ You are right, father, about that; I ami
stubborn for I would sooner gain my. bread as l
a day laborer in the street than submit to such 1
degrading conditions. _ I

‘I am your son, father, and as obstinate in A,
my way as you are in yours. Farewell, I go i
forth intotbe world to seek in fortune; be it
good or evil I will never dar en your doors

, again until you repent of the injustice which f

you have done me this night.” }
Taking his bet he moved toward the door. 1
“Begone and take with you the bitter curse ‘
of an outraged father!” cried the old man in a g

fearful rage. ,
The boy replied not but went forth into the y
night.

 

CHAPTER III.

CAST UPON THE WORLD. ' 

11' was with a heavy heart. despite his bold
words, 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
sire had been systematically poisoned against I
the youth. I
The brothers Thomas and Robert Atherford, ;
beinz favorites of the merchant. be- ;

y l” 910mm“ the 01d ’ and old Gwyne, being by nature a crabbed. ob-  
i stinate man determined to put the boy through ’

such a discipline as would effectually crush all ‘
wildness out of him.
Either he must submit or else go forth into
the world a beggar. ' .
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 was "
his own master. " ,.
The future was before him for him to make or
mar. »
Desolate enough he felt too, although he was 1
not absolutely helpless. v
He had been in the receipt of a fair 
and although be had never troubled hi ‘
about saving any of it, et, as he was not in-
clined to be expensive, eusually had consid-
erable money in his pocket, seldom being with.
out fifty or sixty dol ars. .
As he strolled slowly along the street be ex-’
amined into the state of his nude. 1
He had exam fifty-one dollars in his pocketr .
book, and a g suit of clothes 1: n his back. .r'. r
“ Well, I am not so badly 03." e murmured, i I' 2
communin with himself. “ Many men has ' . _ ;
commence the world with far land‘spitnl and 1" *
yet achieved a fortune. ’ ' ‘ f
“ But where shall I go!" -
And ashe put the uesfiion, upinliis mind some _
in

  
  

 

 

 

 

  

thoughts of the go] on ifle coast. The up «
riferous fever had been full blast for some '-
_ 1 ‘ g .

1

1“. J‘ J "5:5 -” w

 

  

Young Dick Talboti

 

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 far Pacific slepe had excited the wonder
of~the stay-at~homes who had resisted the temp-
tations to wander afar in strange lands.

“That’s the place for me, Californiai” 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 pru-
dent wiitl:i it, aléd if I couldtil'letum ill!) five forfltlim
,. ’ ears n epen entl wea y, per aps a er

{would change his mind about me. It is worth
the trial, and I would far rather go away than
stay in the cit .

“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 loomy thoughts the youth
was proceeding slow y along when his medita-
tions were iiiterru ted by a sla on the
shoulder, and a well- nown voice exc aimed:

“’gwyne, you’re just the fellow I wanted to

The tyoung man turned and beheld the jovial
face 0 Johnny Calpen, one of the most romi-
nent members of the club to which wyne
belonged. and a particular friend of his.

“ Is that sol”

“ Yes, I’m rut fora time tonight, and I want
you to come along.”

Johnny had the reputation of beings pretty
fast oung man, and for that reason, althou
our ero was very intimate with him at t as
club, yet he had always avoided going with him,
when Johnny started out to have what he called
a good time.

‘ l'm afraid you’ll have to excuse me,” Gwyne

re lied.

3 Ah, 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
throu h Gwyne’s, and falling in ste with him.
“'An I say, what’s the matter With on to-
night? You look as if you had lost el your
friends.”

“ Not so bad as that, I hope.”

“ Are you sick?”

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

“ The more reason 1: so that you come along
with me and have a good time. Come along,
and as an inducement I’ll show you a rare
glint—one that will make you open your eyes

“ What is it!"

“ A liar and hypocrite with the mask off-e
your particular friend, Thomas Atherford, the
Wily scamp that has been doing his best to make
trouble for you. I have come across '
two or three times in the club lately, and at this
place where I am going, i heard him boasting last
night to some of his cronies that a certain rty
would get the sack before long, and that t was
all his doings, too. He di n’t mention any
names. but from certain things he said in con-

 

T

 

his tracks v

 

 

nection with the matter. 1 came to the con-
clusion he referred to you.

“ He didn’t know that I was around for when
I heard him begin to talk freely I kept in the
background on purpose.”

_ “ 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,
{at he always treats me with a fawning civility

hat is perfectly disgustin .”

“ To tell you the truth, wyne, 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 1 do not doubt he would have had sense
enough to hold his tongue.

“But come along with me to-night and sur-
prise the scamp in a place that he wouldn’t have

our father know that he visits for a thousand

ollars.”

“I've halfa mind to o with you for it is a
strong temptation to be old the rascal as he
really is,".our hero observed. “ I've just had a
quarrel With my father and I should not be sure
prised if this low scoundrel is at the bottom of
the whole aflair.”

“ No doubt about it, the sneak is mean enough
for anything. I know he has tried to back-cap
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.” .

“ H_e has certainly succeeded with my father,
if he is the arty, and I feel pretty well satisfied
he is. My ether told me that he had had a spy
upon in track and had been informed of every-
thing I ad done for some time past.”

“ 1y Thomas is the man depend upon it i”
Calpen cried. “I tell on what it is, Gwyne, if
I were you I should fee precious like giving him

e e ow was an inatc or me rha
I should.” y pe p.

“ 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
awa with him, but as far as size and weight go,
mos folks would consider it more than an even

 

I thing and say decidedly that the advantage

was on his side.

“But I say, you’ll come along with me, ehl
Just for greens, you know! I’ll bet this sly ’coou
will look ais sted when he sees he is caught.”

“ Yes, .I Will go with you!” our hero exclaim-
ed, elding to a sudden impulse.

‘ t‘s right and we’ll have a jolly timel”

CHAPTER IV.

A new or BIN.

Tim two friends proceeded along East Broad-

way until they came to Chatham square and
then turned into the Bowerly.

“ You wouldn’t have be loved that this fel-

low was such a confounded sneak, if you hadn’t

good proof of it!” Calpen remarked.I

 

\

 

i
i
f
l
!

 
  
  
 

    
   
   

. Young Dick Talbot. "1"

" No, I should not, although Inever liked him
and always had an idea that he wasn’t such a
saint as he tried to appear." a

“ 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

 

ivorles that be appreciated the wit of thb
young gentleman.

Then he closed the secret panel, and proceed-
gd to shoot back the bolts which guarded the

oor.

“This is a good stout door, you will notice,"
Cslpen remarked, “and by the noise the fellow
is making with the bolts, it is apparent that it is
. I guarded as securely as the entrance toajail.
listened to exclamations in almost every modern The idea is to prevent unwelcome visitors from
lan liege. ' l getting in without considerable trouble. While
he owery has always been the most cosmo— ' the door was being forced the people up-stairs,
politan of all the New York streets. would have plenty of time to get out of harm’s

Strangers, particularly those in search . of way.”
what is finial-1y known as a good time, seemed l By the time the explanation was finished the
to find t e way to the Bowery almost by in- 1 door swung open. ‘
stinct. ' . “ Many visitors to-nightl” Calpen asked, as

The two friends went on until they passed ‘ they assed the guardian of the door.

Hester street and then Calpen stopped abruptly “ 0, sub, not ’yet; too earl , sub.”

in front of a dingy, two-storied wooden house, “ That is true, the guide 0
very much the worse for the wear and tear of , as they ascended the stairs which commen
time. 1 just beyond the door. “The crowd whose

A saloon was on the ground floor. rather a ; money really keeps the house going don’t begin
law-looking place and Calpen laughed as he no- to st in un i1 about midnight. ’
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 chea place, you know,
and does not disdain to re e in anyihing from
two cents upward, and if a man should be fool-
ish enough to display a roll of five-dollar bills ‘
he would he looked upon as a millionaire.”

Just such low dens exist in the Bowery to-day
and one can see plent of the old-fashions
wooden houses in a stro l 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 alwa 3
went in for a sight of the animal, but to-nig t
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 ni ht 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.

hCalpen proceeded like one well acquainted with
t 0 way.

There was a shabby green door next to the
saloon entrance which evidently gave access to
the upper part 01‘ the house. _ business hours that all his associates looked upon

This door Calpen opened and the companions 1 him as a model young man.
found themsely es in a small entry, illuminated 1 The younger brother, Robert, was not so still-

 

sort of a place it was that he was entering, 31-. .
thougl:i of course, he understood that it was
some
fore, he was not surprised to‘flnd 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 loungingon the sofas and
chairs, keeping an anxious eye upon a side-

“ sumptuous ” lunch, the principal .dis
which were fried liver and stewed tripe.

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

They were both young, a at twent -two-or
three apparently, and looked enough a e to be -
brothers. as they were.

Both had evidentl been drinking, and were,
slightly under the i uence of liquor.

hese were the two brothers whom our hm

had reason to believe had been secretly working,
to do him harm. -

“ Youn Gwyne, by all thatis wonderful!” the

two were seated on the sofa—the momentthe’
young men entered the room.

The speaker was Thomas Atherford, the fel-I‘
low who carried himself so demurely during ‘

by a single gas light. ful an actor, and then, too, he was rougher in
At the further end of the entry was another every way. while Thoma. was as smooth as
3001' tight! CIOM- silk and as oil as a confidence operator.

Ca pen vanoed and knocked upon it.

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

“ t’s all right, Alphonso!” exclaimed Cal-
pen, who delighted to fix high-sounding names '
upon everybody at the all htest provocation.
“This ntleman and myse f are on a tour of
inspection. Are the animals at home!”

“I ’spects they are, massa,” responded the
block. showing y

him to come! muttered Robert in aiisweir to

his brother’s exclamation.

 

brothers, for his companion had in a great meas-
ure prepared him for the meeting, but the four
» came upon each other so one y—the
i brotheit'ls were sitting close to the oor, and Osl-
pen an
. in t th ed—tliat it whom
the liberal display of his to???“ tan?”
l ,

Vi

ur hero had not a very clear idea of what '

en beyond the pale-of the law; there- .

elder hrot er exclaimed to his companion—the . '

Gwyne came facet» face with them the .,

 

rvedtoGwyga I  :

   

board, where a negro waiter was settinglgut a; 1"
0 \

"Well, wel f, of all places in the world for.  ».

Gwyne was not so much astonished as the: 

its

. the sights o

a 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. “1 was not
aware that fyou ever took a night off, enjoying
the town. It’s very seldom that
do such a thing myself, but the quietest man,
an know, will go on a lark once in a while.
cou , you understand that there isn’t any
need 0 speakin about this little sort of a spree
at the store. our respected father is very
, and has some peculiar ideas about cer-
tain thin .” I
“You fit, he’d kick I: a row if he knew of
us being here to-nightl” t e other brother inter-

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

it.
“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 a sin. I sha’n’t yield to the tempta-
tion again. we’ll say nothing about this little
meetin , eh, Mr. Gwyne?” and he leered sug-
gestive y in the face of the other. “ Silence for
silence you know. You keep quiet about our
bein here and we’ll be sure not to breathe a
we 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. It might cost us our places in your
father’s em loy, but from the way 1 know he
feels towar you, a discovery might be fatal to

all our future respects.”
9' i.

‘ Oh, yes' it just about as broad as it is
101?,” exclaimed the younger brother bluntly.
“ on are in more danger than we, so if you
will 1gust keep quiet, we won’t plash.” ‘

“ either one of tyou need apprehend danger
from me; I am nei her a spy nor an informer 1”
young Gwyne replied in cold contem t.

The shot struck fairly home, an it was so
unexpected that it made the brothers wince.

Thomas was the first to recover himself, and

to rub his hands softly together.

" A , 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
five known that there wasn’t the slightest
danger of your betraying the secret. I wouldn’t
‘ask you to tell a lie for the world, you know,
but as your pa cannot possibly have any sus-
g‘cions about this little frolic, he will be cer-

n not to ask any questions. And I shall not
forget the service either, and one of these days

/ ' ‘ I 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 if’ cried both the brothers in a
breath, thorough) astonished by the intelligence
and heartin delig ted at it, though they were
careful not to show it. ‘

“ Yes, it is true.” . ' ‘

'. 1‘00 your father’s business!” asked the chief
plotter artfully. .

“ No, sir, upon my own.”

. " You and your respected as hav’n’t oumelcd

1

 

I hope!" and the speaker endeavored to look
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 sa so because ouare the snake who has
made al the troub 9, you sneaking villain!"
Gwyne cried, hotly.

 

CHAPTER V.
m smaca'rrox.

“03, really, Mr Gwyne, on wrong mel”
Thomas exclaimed. “Iwoul n’tinjure ou for
the world, and I should be very sorry in eed to
learn that there had been any fallin out be-
tween your respected pa and yourse . There
hasn’t been any such thing, I hope.”

“ You don’t hope so bu quits the contraryi"
our hero exclaimed, bluntly. “ You know
well that you have been doing everything in
your power for three or four ears to b
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 dirt work. You will
no lon r beput to the trou 1e of playin the
spy an the informer upon me. I have le t my
father’s house never to return and I think that
m a great measure I can thank you for it, you
miserable sneak l"

“ See here,. you’re using pretty strong lan-
guage,” exclaimed the younger brother a thick-
set, robust fellow, who rather prided himself on
his‘ hysical Egrentggh. l d No th

espre ys ng an ana go or
uncalled for,” asserted Thgouula‘: who was
muscular in build.

Now that their plot had succeeded and the I

young. man had been driven from home they did
not think it necessary to longer wear a mask and
were disposed to show their true colors.

“ You re a pair of contemptible bounds and
aoltth dof you ought to be in jail,” Gwyne re-

s .

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

“on, don’t mind the young whelp,” Thomas
ejaculated.

In our hero’s resent state of mind thise ithet
was more than e could bear. for his b1
almost u to the boiling point when be reflected
that Ln t ese two rascals he‘was indebted for
the position in which he now found himself, so
without an instant’s hesitation, with the aim of
his open hand he ave Thomas who ad ad-
vanced close to him 11‘ an insolent and threat-
ening way, a most terrible slap.

The eflect was as if the man had been stricken
by a hand of iron rather than by one of flesh
and bone..

He staggered back, the report of the slap re-
sounding like a pistol-shot through the room,
and the spot whereon the blow fell became as
red as fire: it really looked as if the blood was
going to burst through the skin.

It was the first time that the oath had ever
strucka blow in anger in his e, and be him-
self was surprised at the eflect, for he was not
fully conscious of the enormous power he pos-

\

was,

 

 

r
. I
r
x

-.t.
’,

 

,murdereri” the brother

Young Dick Talbot. ‘ O

 

He was not allowed much time for reflection ‘

though, for when the younger brother ceived
how roughly his relative had been han led, with
a bowl of rage, undeterred by the exhibition
ahich he had witnessed, he sprung upon young

w e.

It really looked as if he was far more than a
match for the youth, for he wasa far bigger
man in every way; but the way he was re-
ceived made the lookerson open their 0 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 brother, apparently rendered frantic with
the treatment which they had received. drew
an ugly-looking knife, and made a dash at

w e.

T e two closed in a de ate struggle, which
lasted but a few secon 3, however, for then
Thomas cried out:

" 0h! heaven, I am cuti”

The antagonists separated, the knife was in
Gwyne’s hand, in the struggle he had succeeded
in disarming his opponent blood crimsoned
the glittering blade, and ‘Thomas, throwing
up husbands with groans of pain, sunk to the

floor. _

“Oh I \am killed—I am killed!” he cried.
“ This boy has murdered me l”

“ As Heaven is m judge, I did not intend to
do it!” Gwyne exc a med. “I only tried to
take the knife away from him so that he could

not harm me with it!”

“Was lie! you killed him on urpose—
intended to do it. Men, hel maxi-.0 arrest the
ed, snatching n
a chair, as if intending to assault the yout
with it.

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

“ Stand beck!” 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
desirous of avoiding injury himself, and he
too caught up a chair.

“’ Surrender!” cried two or three of the men,

h using weapons and menacing Gwyne with
em.

The. uth was franti he did not pauseto
reflectfiit the instinct ofo’self-preservation told
him to soon at all hazards.

The use ants were advancin toward him in
a body, there was a medium~s zed window on
his right hand looking into the back ard.

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

unprepared for this novel assault, the went
down he ore it in a heap, but the bloc ed up
the pamage to the door so that oould not

1

escape that way. but he had noticed the win-
gggvd, and was just in the humor for a desperate

The house was old, and he judged the window-
flxings were not particularly stron , so he
jumped headlong at it, and as he hadoo ulated,
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 fours 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 fencesin succession
fore he attempted to make his way to the
street.

He could hear the cries of astonishment of the
fellows, from whom he had so unceremoniously
taken leave, and the ran down into the ya ,
expecting to behol his man led body, or at

a least to find him badly wounde ,and discovered
that he was not there. a

From the route he had taken—just by accident,

‘ for in his haste he had not she ped to calculate

* upon the matter—he had t nto the yard of a a -

house that fronted upon ester street.

As it happened, there was a passe e straight
through the house to which the groun belonged,
from the yard to the street.

V Neither of the two doors belonging to the
entry were locked, and so our hero ound no
diiiiculty whatever in makin his way from the

r ard to the street, and on h way he was-0

ortunate as not to encounter a single son].

When once in the street, he-erossed imme-
diately to the other side of the wig, and turn-

,ing his back on the Bowery, w ed rapidly
awe .

i Aswa usual at such an hour, the street was
full of poo lo, and Gwyne did not excite the
least attent on. >

a He knew that he would have at least ten min.
utes’ start of his pursuers, even if they shouldbs
lucky enough to discover over which of 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 nntilhecame to Csnal,~then,
turning to his right, he in eflect retraced his
former steps by going direct to the Bowel}.

He crossed the great artery and on the ght-
hand side of the way kept on into Chatham

square. Then throu h Chatham street until he I

came to the City Ha 1 park.

Through the it he went, at right angles
from the course e had followed, Broad-
way to one of the side streets, and went on until
he came to the river. '

He had not taken this route from any cu-
lar design, but only from a desire to go as r

h I,
owe from the scene of the tragedy as  , , ' \
e.

“ eaven knows I did not want to
man,” he muttered to himself a hundred times
at least as he hastened on his way. .
And it was the truth that he spoke. 30 bed
not the least intention of insuring the 

g
,>
i
l

 

  

A lowedrhi

Young Dick Talbot.

.1. s.

 

nate wretch, notwithstanding that through his i " And to think that it should hap u too on
artful schemes he had been driven from his ‘ the very night that I left my fathers house—

home.

Provoked beyond endurance by the man’s
conduct, he had slapped his face and most cer-
tame 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 a wild beast, his only thought had been
to isarm the man as soon as possible.

It was through accident, really brought about
by Gwyne’s endeavor-mg to defend his own life,
that the unfortunate blow had been given, but
the unhappy youth was not satisfied with this
ex

cuse.

“ I am a murderer,” he murmured, as he
walked out to the end of one of the isrs. “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 mamas CHANCE.

n was'a b ht moonlight night, so that all
surroundin jects were plainly visible, 3
beautiful 1: t,‘ for the air. was balmy and re-
freshing, and yet our unfortunate hero as he
leanedagainst the post at theend of the pier and

and down upon the restless waiers, felt strong-
fy tempted to leave the pleasant world and find
rest, for tfulness and a grave beneath the sur-
face of t e heavin tide.

“Ishould be sa a then,” he murmured; “no
cruel bands wuld drag me to a prison, and from
there, lperchance, to a scaflold. Asingle plunge
ands] will be over.”

It ,wuslggzflfor a moment, though, that he al-

to think of such a t mg.

“ No no,” he murmured, with a shiyer of hor-
ror. ‘ That would be a cowardly thin to do;
a fellow in this world, ought not. to_be raid to
meet his fate, no matter what it is. It is all
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 .blll of
pluck ought to be ashamed to even think of

‘ e
“The 35nd is before me and there isn’t the

' slightest reason whv one false step should ruin

w; in feet as far as the knife is concerned l

adn’t the slightest idea otusing it. All that
I tried to do was to keep him from cutting me,
anditwae on] ,by accident that he got hurt.

“ Of course am r‘ uced sorry that the airair
took lace, and if I . d to do it all over again I
wouls act-diflerenti y, but I was provoked be-
yond all endurance, and I could not help slap-

{I} wholelife. I did not mean to kill the fel‘
o

l started out into the world to seek my fortune.
A nice beginning I have made of it.” and the
1 youth laughed b tterly tohimself.
l “ Well, there’s no turning back now. Old
‘Father Time always goes orward and never
backward in his flight. Let the dead dpest
, bury its dead and let meseewhatl will 0 in
the futui'e.
“ I must get out of the city; there’s no mis-
, take about that and the quicker the better.
l “ It will not be safe to wait until morning for
. by that time the authorities will probably be
l on the lookout, and the chances are ten to one
get every depot and ferry-house will be guard-

“There’ll be a man placed at every avenue
leading from the city with instructions to
seize me if I attem t to pass in all probability.

“ Atherford's fol s are all wealth and in-
fluential and they will be sure tors. heaven
and earth to capture me.

“And as for my father in such a case as this
-—and under the peculiar circumstances of my
parting with him too—he would be certain to

hink it was his dut to ape the Roman sire
and give me up to ustice with his own hands
if he could pose bly get hold of me.

“No friend have I in the wi a 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 at the police on the
track and I don’t believe hey wil 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 sure

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,
for Just now he was in the condition of the man
described by the poet, who

“ In each hush doth fear an officer."

But when the man came up and greeted him
with a hearty f‘good-evening ” he saw he was
mistaken.

The stranger. was a middle-aged man thick-
set, plaiul but comfortably ressed, looking
like a we -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?" continued the man.

“ es, Very flue ni ht.”

 

in the fellow’s face; yet at the most I only in-
gnsed 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- i
cos, but. somehow, I can’t bear the thoughts of ,
ed g that course of action.
“ ostand-my trial here for murder—in the
city libero I was born and brought up—where

u people have known me since I was a child— .
oh, no! can never endure that. ‘ ‘

a-iookiug at the moon now ’wa outside‘of‘ San.
dy Hook ’stead of on this ’ereb amed old dock l”
exclaimed the stranger, with eonsiden able as-

pong.
“ that so!" asked Gwyne, who, of course,
did not take the sl htest interest in the man or
his movements, but e spoke because he saw that
he was expected to say something»

“Yes, sir-ea, that's jest as sure as shootin'i
Doyou see that old gundalow of a schooner!”

“If it hadn’t been or the gol-darnedestbit of r
, luck that ever happened to a critter I should be

 
    
    
  
   
    
  
    
   
  
     
 
    
     
  
 
  
   
  
  
 
  
  
  
   
 
     
  
  
  
  
  
 
 

       
         
    

 

i
l
E
‘1
Y
1
l

 

Young Dick Talbot. 1!

 

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

"1 warrant fie! But I’m bound for a big
“ Yes. sir."

iece beyond o-bilo. At that ’ere town my
, ourney really begins. I’m for Californy,
“She’s a good seaworthy craft, though she ”

ain’t han’sum. I’m a judge of sich things,” he i “For California!” exclaimed the youth, his
continued. “ I’m someth ng of a sailor m self; heart beating high.

kin take my trick at the wheel like an 01 salt, “ Yas, sin-ea, that’s my platform: There’s a
and I calculate, too, when a shipcarpenter is company going to sail from Mobile ’bout the
wanted I won’t be fur abind the lighter.” first of next month, and I’m going with ’em.

“ You’re quite useful.” Colonel Stoddard’s party.”

“0h, yesl I’m a Jack of all trades—master “That’s just where want to go. Do you
of none, maybe. That’s the old saying you suppose there would beany chancel I’m out'ot
know; but it’s a pesky lot of foolishness— ike a a situation, and want something to do. I hav'-
heap of other old yarns. E n’t a great amount of money, only about fifty

“Yes, sir-ea, if everything had gone right ‘ dollars—”
that '6“! schooner W01!“ 3553 3'3000‘71'1’ “ See here, younker, I’ve taken quite a fancy
through the briny deep outside of Sand Book to you, you’re sich a blamed nice talker—you’ve
somewhere ’round ’bout this time, Will every got the gift of the gab, you have, and darn me
stretch of canvas spread, a going for the south— It I don I; help on out, Can you come right
’ard like all possessod.” along? ’cos the énp’s liable to arrive eVerY mm"

“ How is it that she is at anchor here, then?" ite and jest as soon as we get him on board,

“Rum!” TBSPOHdEd t’Ihe man, whtentiOUSly- we‘ll up anchor, and let ’er shiver.”

“That’s the downright. honest truth Euro 11 “ All I’ve ot in the world ison me, and. as
hhunder- Rum -'l"u my” and “10 specifier 5P6"; I’ve no frien sin the city, I can go immediate-
the word on his fin er. ly—I’ve no one to bid good by to. ’

“I do not unders and.” _ “ You kin come right along. then! I'll see

“She’s for Mo-bile. Youknow where Mo-bflo that it sba’n’t cost you a cent on board the
is?” schooner, and arter we’git to Mo-blle I reckon I

 

“ Mobile.” kin fix things all right.

“Yes, that’s it—only you don’t ban on to the The conversauion was interrupted at this
last cult, and spit it out right—Mo- ' . Down point by the arrival of the men with the cap-
South. you know.” tain.

“Yes, in Alabama.” , Twenty minutes later the schooner was on
“Kerrect—Moblie, Alabama. That is the her way.

we I used to figure it out when Iwas a younker
an went to the leetle red schoolb use on the.
hill. I’m from Nantucket. May you know
where that is?”

 

CHAPTER VII.
on son. CALIFORNIA.
As our hero surmised the death of Thomas

“ 0‘}, Yes—a gm“ Whaling ROW" Atherford created a great excitement.

“ nght you are: NantuCket 15 8" Whale, and The wound had been a mortal one and the in.
I’m a piece of the blubber what has floated oi! jured man had died within ten minutes from
to foreign pom.” and then he chuckled hoarse- the time he had received the hurt.

137 at his own joke. _ - , The Atherfords were well connected and the

“Thai whoonel‘ yonder ‘3 the Flying Fish influential relatives of the dead man made a
and a Nantucket man is master on her. He’s great; time about his sudden taking-ctr. -
a cousin of mine. and he‘s somewhere ’round Young Gwyne was denounced as a cold-
thih ’tamel his 01W a! drunk I“ ‘1 h’iled 0W1; blooded murderer and a large reward oflered
and that’s the reason I lay it to rum, and there’s for his apprehension,

no mistake about it, young man—that’s what’s A: the coroner’s in nest, Robert Atherford '

the mam;- Cargo on board. crew all right and the gamblers who ad witnessedthe astray
Papers Ship.8hp‘pel but no Skier“- WO 011%“ all intimate associates of the dead man testified
to have got off at “valve to- ay. to catch the that Gwyne bad provoked the quarrel. had
°bh ‘0 help “5 out 0‘ the buy. but 110 Skip?” struck the first blow and that the dead manhad
“lde “P- , merel drawn the knife to defend himself from
“We sent out scouts, and all we could learn being rutally beaten, whereupon the other had
of the ROI-darned critter WI! that he was on the wrested it from his hand and stabbed him.
tallest kind of a spree. If we could only catch cnlpen, of course. told a diflerent story, but
and put him on board we’d been right, whether the wei ht of the evidence was against him. nit
he was drunk or sober—but the craft can’t sail was half
without the captain 4
“Some of the bons have got wind of where verdict of willful murder.
he is though, and “3‘3"” 119’“ be 0“ boa-rd by All the wer of the police was employed to
midnight, and then we’ll be OK.” apprehen the fugitive, but thanks to the far-
A Wild idea came up “1 Gwyn” mlnd- 811 tunate chance of our young hero encountering
pose he could obtain passage on board of th s the Nantucket man he was far awe before the
craft, it would most effectually baille all pursuit { search
'4’“ 00"“ it he armllfled' ' l trace beb nd by means 0: w he could, be
“It is quite unfortunate ” be said. “I hope tracked. ‘ v ' '
the men w‘lll succeed in finding the captain. I The usage southward‘wasapleasent one. for
en you the voyage; it must be very pleasant as the £1 ‘
eflswmeoww we! Abnerfihhgleg “hermit”.

 

I .
» . x : . ‘ " \r
. V. “I, . .

eved that he was tryin to shield his a
friend, and so the jury promp y returned a 1

an and the boundl‘n hi1 am left no .

antucket m‘an', whose name, b the we y, 
he; was ‘ 

 

 

 

Young Dick Talbot.

 

flke a singed cat, a good deal better than she'

looked

The captain, Abner’s cousin, Jonathan Shingle,
was a whole—souled 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.

It onl took him a few hours to sober up, and
then w en introduced to our hero by Abner
glad] welcomed him on board ship.

“ his ’ere younker ” said the Nantucket
man, “ has a big idea oi j’ining in a Californy
trip. He wants to go out there and pick 11
some of those lumps of gold as big as your hea ,
which they say are lying round loose a-crying
for some one for to come along and pick them
up, and as I’m an awful lonesnm man
him to come along and I guessed you wouldn’t
be steep on him ’bout the passage—money.”

don’t keer ’bout any money, that is if you’ve a
mind to give us a band now and then if we need
it,” responded the skipper, open-hearted and
generous like a true son of the sea.

To this the youth readily agreed, only too
glad to secure a passage under such easy con-
ditions.

“By the way, I never thought to ask your
name,” observed the Nantucket man abruptly.
“Mine is Abner Shingle, and this ’ere A No. 1
skipper will howl like all possessed if youcall

’ . him Jonathan.”

’ Our hero had never thought about a name,
but now that the question was put, he saw at
once that it would never do to give his own.

Mobile was quite a long distance from New
York, it was true, but still there were regular
means of communication between the two
cities, and the youth thought it was more than
likely that the police would send his name and

description all over the land. To give his own
appellation then was dangerous. and so he spoke
the first that came up in his mind.

" Talbot, you can call me Talbot,” he re lied.

“That ain’t a bad name to tie to,”

. remarked.

“Talbot?” observed the skipper, “it seems to
me as if I had known a man by
onc’t, and it ’pears to me that he was the master

, of some craft that sailed from New York.
Mebbe a relation of ournl”

“No, sir, I havent any relatives. I am all
alone in the world.”

“ Then he couldn’t have been your father, of
course, though it ’pears to me is at on favor
him a sight; his name was Jack, if don’t dis-
remember.”

The skipper’s memory was a little hazy in
regard to the man.

“My, name is Richard—Dick I’m commonly
called. ’

And this was the way in which the name was
given, destined in after years to be one of the
most noted in the annals of the Golden State.

“And I haven’t any father,” he continued.

This was true enough under the circumstances.
 considering that he had been driven forth from
5.. I ' the home of his childhood and cast upon the
 mmloftheworld. " ' ‘ "

bnor ,

that name ‘

I told 1

 

 

0n the voyage Dick, as we shall hereafter call
our hero, did is 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, 'fted too with unusual strength and
adroitness, the time the schooner got into
the Gulf of exico 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 assage-
mone , he guessed that, by rig ts, t e boot
woul be on the other leg, and ’bout a month‘s
we es would be due.
he trip had made a great change in the
youth’s personal appearance too. He had
ecome bronzed by the sun, filled out consider-
able, and by the time they got into Mobile
Bay, our hero felt that no one would be able to

E recognize in the sun-kissed sailor lad, the ele-
‘Oh, you’re quite welcome, youngster, and I ‘

face 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 lay.

Cards and checkers were t 'e main stand~b s,
and with the painted pasteboards Dick ea y
succeeded in astonishing all on board.

Both the skipper and the Nantucket man
prided themselves upon being goodcard-players

ut the youth soon convince them that he was
their master.

He was such an exceedingly skillful player
that if luck ranat all even t 9 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
youngster, as the all called him, a brilliant idea
seized upon the antucket man, whoprided him-
self upon his fertile invention.

“Say! I’ll tell on what we’ll do!” he ex-
claimed. “ Down ere injthis’ere sunny South,
eVery two-legged human critter plays keerds;
poker is the game they most hump themselves
I: on, and in aliforny too, the feller what can’t
gay a good game of poker is no account at all.

ow I’m a pretty hefty poker-player m self.
I use to be a cut for a northern mach as
house that ha a lag southern trade and
trivaled all over the th and so got posted on
p0 er. r

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

“ S’pose we sail in on poker, we a use beans
instead of money and so combine amusement
and instruction.’

All thought that it wasa good idea and so the
poker playing commenced.

This was a game of which Talbot knew noth- '

ing, for poker was not a common game in the
North at the time of which we write, but he
soon learned “the ropes." as the skipper re-
marked and as he was so marvelousl

l9 haiku! cards he was enabled to as“ In

‘1
1,;

 
  
  

 
 

 

  

2...... an. m... ‘ is

0"

the most bare-faced manner without any one 
of the partybeing 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 shorter
time than before the youth had them again ' " ,
in his possession.

“ Durned if on ain’t a reg’lar blister in hand
ling keerdsi” buer exclaimed.

‘ I never saw anythin like it in my life and
I’ve seen some prett big games in this ’ere
South," the skipper mitted.

he crew too were oi! the same opinion.

The night that the schooner ran into Mobile
bay, it bein bright moonlight, Abner and our
hero stood the to’castle, watching the distant
lights of the cit .

“Bay, Dick, five got a mighty big ideei” the
Nantucket man observed abrupt , aiter quite a
lon silence.

_ e youth had observed that he was oogitat-
ing intently and so had refrained from disturb-
m his thou hts.

‘ You are amous for your good ideas, Abner,”
responded Dick, who had a genuine respect for
the ability of the man. ‘

1 th
“ You hain’t got but ‘bout fifty dollars for to j.

carry you to Californyi”
“ hat is all." ,

“ And I reckon the tarifl will be ’baut a bun-'
dred and fifty.”

“Then I will be a hundred short."

“ Yes, and to say nothing ’bout clothes and
a good outfit of we’pous which you ought to

ave.

“ That prospect is not invitin .”

“ Oh, yes it is, red-hot. Yo: ought to have
three hundred at the least, for after you git to E
San Francisco on will need money to take you =
uP-countr to t e diggings. Now I kin help you
a eng a l ttie, but couldn’t spare more ’n a
hundred; but I’ll give an an idea wuth flve.
Go for some oi.l these o-biliaus at poker, and
clean ’em out!”

CHAPTER VIII.
m momma

Tn: idea seemed to be feasible, and the youth

pondered over it for a few moments.

"Doegou think I am good player enough!”
he ask at last. ‘

“Bartinl There isn’t any discount on that. ,
I’ve been here store, 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 strike a place like San Francisco unless you’ve
got some rocks in our pocket.

“They are shar s out there, ever man-Jack
of them. It’s each cuss for himse f, and Old
Nick for them all. It’s a hard place, from all
accounts; more drinking and gambling and
fighting and sich devilt , th n a. man could
shake a stick at in a men of undays.

“ It’s the kind of place that a man wants to
go into well-heeled With money, or elsehe’ll
stand a mighty poor show."

“I so. pose it is, from what I have heard,"
oheerv the youth, thoughtfully. v

“ But it’s the place to make money,” his com-
panion added. “Why. they tell me that the

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

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

“I guess it I git my books upon a big pile of
gold, will hold on to it like death toadead
nigger i” the Nantucket man remarked.

“ But about this poker- laying; do you think
it is exactl right?” Dic asked, after a brief
silence. “ never pla ed for any money in my
life. It would be ga‘n lin , you know.

“Yes, that’s what we’ call it tu hum but
these cusses down in this beni hted re ion don’t
look onto it in that light. Al the me e critters
down here play from the time that they are
knee-high to a sshopper. Theycall it amuse.
ment. Why, ’ve seen a feller‘ lose a hull plan;
tation, niggers and all, and lau h as it he
thought it was a pesl‘rz big joke.
saying, you know. ‘ hen you’re in Turkev

d
as the turkeys do.’ Now I don’t really think

0
it'

i would be much of a sin for you togoin and

skin some of these cusses, who think they know
how to play keerds with the man that invented

em.
“ I know that I ain’t a-taikin to you eat ex:
actly as a Sunday-school super ntenden would ’

tal .

“I ain’t aetandiug up for the morality of the
thing. It’s pe poor business mighty mean,
and no mistake a ut it, and if Isaw 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 I do not t
the money by some such means, I do not th nk
I can raise it."

“ That’s my platform exactly!” Abner ex-
claimed. “ln my opinion playing keerds. or.
any other kind of game for money, is all-fired
poor business but there are times in thiser ‘
as we preambulate through this ’ere vale oi
tears, when a man is obliged to do some mean
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 ehou ders, for I’ll be eternally cousarned.
it I don’t take a hand in the thing myself.”

And so it was arranged between the two that I ;.‘ ‘_ ‘;

Abner should hunt u some nice little poker—
party so as to give albot a chance to make
enough money to cover his expenses.

As the Nantucket man shrewdly observed: .

“ You ain’t so badly 011'; you were kinder
worryin the other day because you hadn’t any
trade an had been wastin your time at clerk:
ing, so that it you were n a ti ht place {on
wouldn’t be like y to get a job rig t awa , at
I kin tell you that an man that kin andla
keerds as you kin nee n’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 be allowed to starve. You’ll git 1'
along all right, don’t you be afeared of that.- .
You re a genius in that line; I’ve run afoul of
some pes y smart fellows in the keerd busi-

ness, but you kin jest flax the daylights out of ‘ ‘

any of them." .
After the schooner was made fast to the dock, I;
Abner and Dick went ashore to .090 howthe

here’s an old . '

 

'1‘

Young Dick Talbot:

 

gpeiiition was getting on which they had come
0 n.

lonel Stoddard was a wiry, weather-beaten
man of sixty, who had been one of the pioneers
when the gold excitement had first broken
on .

He had been fortunate, made his “pile” and a

returned home, but after a few months had
wearied of the quiet hum-drum life and had de-
termined to get up a large expedition and re-
turn to the Pacific skips.

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 istb mus—and on the Pacific
shore to take the steamer which ran regularly
from there to San Francisco.

The colonel had got to ether quite a company;
as he had been successiu 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
toe colonel expected to sail in the morning.

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

The ex edition was to consist of twenty-five
men besi es the colonel, the schooner being ust
., able toflnd accommodations for that num er,
’ 1. rett bad accommodations, and mighty well

crow ed, as the skipper of the craft observed.

7 The Nantucket man made (he twenty-fourth,
and as it luckily hap ened, the twenty-fifth
man,a young lawyer rom Montgomery, Ala-
bama, had got upon a terrible spree after arriv-

; that cuss won'tbe {loiur friend, I’d like to know
i what in thunder a end is, anthg‘vl”

The youth could not help laugh g at this ar-
gument.

“Oh, you kin lau h but that is good, sound
‘ hose sense!” Abner eclared.

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.

As he had expected, near all 0 the pi grims
were in the saloon, and the soon made the two
I strangers welcome, althoug , as the party Were
, main y composed of men who rather prided
l themselves upon their blood and birth, they did
‘not take much notice of the bronzed youth,
whom they regarded as a sort of a sailor chap.
Our here was not at all oflended at this, for he
shrunk from observation, and did his best to
keep in the buck round, being afraid that some
l one might rem? ze 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 so well
| arranged as it is now, when descriptions of all
5 persons accused of great crimes who seek to
avoid arrest by flight, are speedily telegraphed
1 all over the country.
I It was the adventurers’ last night on shore,
and they were celebrating it in a eflttmg man-
; ner; most of the pa were chatting in the sa-
. loon, but a select few ad adjournedtoa private
: apartment, in the second story of the hotel.
where, in company with some of the bloods of

ing in Mobile, from the results of which he was , the town, they were enga ed in a friendly
laid up and the physicians in attendance declar- ' game of poker, playing real y more for amuse-
ed it would be as much as his life was worth for . ment than money, for they were on a quarter

 

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 h. mmediately.

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

Their chief rendezvous was at a French sa-
loon and restaurant on one of the main streets
of the town known as the Hotel La Belle.

. After arrangin 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 buntu his friends that night;and get
the balance 0 the money from them and pay it
in the morning.

The colonel said this was perfectly satisfac-
tory but after they get outside our hero in
Vlamaaement asked his riend how he came to

- make such a statement.

“I haven’t any friends, you know, in the
town; why I haven’t even an a uaintance ex-
ce it the boys on board of the sc ooner,” Dick
1 r.

“ Sonny you are a leettle out in your calcula-
tions,” the Nantucket man replied with a bread

:1. “I guess that if we succeed in striking
e right party some teller is going to advance

Jon money enough to see you through. and if

ante.

This was the party that the Nantucket .man
had been looking for, and being ac wanted
with game of them, his coming was co tally re-
celve .

i “Hallo, you slab-sided Yankee!” cried one of
g the leading li hts of the party, a jovial fellow
‘ known as Doc eyton, whom tradiuon 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 forl You have made about
sixteen fortunes out of us careless, improvident
Southerners and here’s a chance for you to lose
some of it like a gentleman. Sit d0wn, you
Connecticut nutmeg, and give us an opportunity
toskin you alive.” '
A burst of laughter greeted this sally. ,

CHAPTER IX.
A LITTLE GAME.

“ I’M our man i” 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) my
passage-moneaand I guess it wouldn’t rea
an elepbaat’s ck to carry my cash now.”

There was another general laugh at this and'
Peyton responded: ' , g

 

“mama

Young Dick Talbot.

r

. “Ah, that’s the way you always talk! you
would swear 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 sBend upon shore for some
time, you know.” eyton was one of the ad-
venturers: in fact, after the colonel he was the
leading man in gettiniup the expedition.

‘f and, by, the by,” e continued looking in-
quiringly 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
ofhim might have been sent to the city, and the
sailor rig solchanged his appearance that he felt

retty certain he would not be recognised own
if the police had been warned to be on the leak-
out for him, “is this youngster going to try his
luck in the golden land'i”

“ Yes, this is a particular friend of mine, en.
tlfmen; gentlemen, allow me to introduce r-
Richard Talbot to you,” Abner said. “ Mr. Tal-
bot happened to run across me in New York
jest as I was on the point of sailing, and made
up his mind to try for 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
sto ped 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 thana com-
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 mission of about all the loose change
that t ese gentlemen have to spare, and I am
bun y for more victims.”

“ am afraid that like my friend here”—-and
he placed his hand on the shoulder of the Nan-
tucket man, “ I haven’t much money that I can
afford to lose.”

“ 9h, we’ll make it as for you,” the other
replied. “ The auto is on y a quarter and the
limit is flxod at twenty-five dollars; we are not
really gambling, you know, just playing for
amusement—to pass the time away, not for
moneybonly enough to make the game inter-

n

esti .

“ V691], Dick, I guess we mi ht as well take a
hand in the fun, seeing that t will be the last
chance we will have to play keerds on terra~
firma for some time.”

“ I’m 'ble,” responded our hero.

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

“ I give on fair warning, ho s,” observed
ieyton in h jovial way, “that ’m having a

agniflcent run of luck to-ni ht, and l'm bluff-
ing worse than a Georgia mafor.”

“ We’ll do our best to ho d our own ag’in’
you,” the Yankee remarked.

Then the game proceeded.

For three or four hands our hero played verv

 

13

cautiousl , so asto t an idea how the game
was man ng before e ventured his money.

The skill but the youth possessed with cards
was really wonderful.

it came natural to him, and he himself would
have been punled to account for. the calcula-
tions which he invariably made with lightning-
like rapidity.

Apart from his manual skill in handling the
cards—and no djugglei' who depended upon
tricks with car a to gain his bread could do
better with them than our hero—he had a won.
derful faqu for calculating upon the blatant
the chances o the game. 1.

He had carefully watched the play, and I113
the time the first half—hour was reached he
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 fac '
that he was a better pla er than the rest bei
more acquainted with t e value of hands; an
then, too, he was not afraid to “ his!” 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 *

to avail himself of his skill in manipulating the
pasteboards; he could easil , when it came his
turn to deal, have arran it so that he would
know exactly what car a went into the hands
of the different players, so expert was be at this
sort of thin , and if he had been laying with
men eager avail themselves 0 an and’a‘ll
devices to win he would not have hes tated 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-
tlemen with whom he was playing.

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

As the game progressed, and Abner saw that
his protege was not winning larfilly he began
to get uneasy. He had been un the im res.-
sigan itzhgtyguzhbzould rakgén ‘15:: nanny m
tesa;u in aprc p or m-
self, he came to th‘e conclusion that fuck had
not been with the youth. _

When the oppor unity cams though, our hero
was nick to improve it.

He ad kept a close watch upon Peyton, and
beluga shrewd reader of the human face di-
vine, fancied he could detect by the coun—
tenance of the entleman whether he really had
anything in h a hand worth betting uponI or
was merely “ blumn ,” and so when he can ht
some good cards he etermined to test whe at
there was any truth in his belief. ' .

Peyton be quite heavily. and the rest, all
“passed” except Talbot. He felt sure from
the expression upon the young lawyer's face
that he was only “bluflng,” so " went for

"3° "alfimfi it had b Po ton' '
an e m was reac our:

hero promptly “saw” him, sndycalled for b

show of hands. '-

flves. while the youth'd

opined three tuna
“43 v ’

As he auciapsm‘refvwn‘hed only'a pan- of

 

x. a

 

/

.H _. r: .33: V,:,
V -11 rangml... s-=..

«

 

    

 

is

Young Dick “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 only a lad added to his chagrin.

“ We Lfyoung man. you succeeded in getting
the best 0 me that time, but I’ll get even with
you,” he remarked.

A few more hands were played without any-
thing ial occurring, and then Peyton have
, ing the luck to st three sevens, came to the

conclusion that t ey were good enough to cap-
ture the pile.

_Some of the others were dis osed to contest
this, and so there was some live y betting until
the limit 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.

Peyto

I fore and he plain] showad it.

“ Jove, old to low I” he exclaimed, address-
ing A ner, “I invited you and your friend to
sit down with the idea of skinning you within
an inch of our life but from the way things

are
form 3 the operation, I shall be the victim. ’

' ” It’s nothing when iyou get used to it, as the
cook said to the as when it remonstrated
z:fainst being prepared for the frying—pan,” the

antucket man responded, with one of his
, comical grins.

3 tags was now a little over fifty dollars
ahead, and the prospect seemed good for the
success of his plan.

' Six or eight more hands were played, but only
a few dollars were risked on an of 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 he dealt the cards, it being his
turn to deal, and old player as he was, he could
not repress a twinkle of the eyes as he looked at
his hand.

He had four kings and a ten-spot.

Contrary to his usual custom he was rather
shy about betting, for he wished to lure the
rest up to the limit, wanting to catch as much
mone in the pot as he could, for with hisel-
most nvincible hand—there being but one bet«
ter in the peck—he felt sure of victory.

. But, to his dis ust, all went out but the youth.

Talbot prompt y responded to every bet until
the limit was reached.

There were about sixty dollars in the pot.

“ I sa , youngster, I can clean you out this
time.” eyton exclaimed. “What do you s'
to betting an even hundred outside of the limit? ’

"‘I’ll do it if lslrou’ll allow me to throw out one
card and take t at queen there,” Talbot replied,

pointing!» a queen that had been accidentally
" ‘ faced.

Pe guessed by this that queens were the
beat opponent had, and so he consented.

Then the mono was put up.

Po :1 slap down his our kings with an

air 0 trium h, but imagi
of a the rest, when the youth uietly
four aces and the queen upon the tab e.
, , “ I all. the pot is mine," he said.

u was more annoyed this time than be- 3

ing t really looks as if, instead of - ‘

ne his disgust, and the ‘

.’ by the offer into the bel

 

CHAPTER X.
in SAN mmcmco.

Farrow leaned back in his chair folded his
arms in his leg and stared at the cards for a. mo-
ment, while t e rest looked on, amazed at the
unexpected result.

About the most astonished man of the lot was
Abner. He had fairly trembled in his shoes
when his pro s so boldly accepted the banter
of the young wyer, for he was afraid that
Pe ton, having been caught twice on a hint,
he. learned Wisdom and would not bet so large-
ly if he hadn’t fol are that his hand could not
be beaten.

Peyton was completely astonished. He had
oflered to bet the hundred dollars outside of the
limit, with the idea his opponent would bescared

at that he held an in-
vincible 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
queens, he jumped at the chance.

“ Well, may be hanged if this isn’t a regular
su risel ’ Peyton exclaimed at last.

“ he money is fairly mine, I believe,” the
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 aces ’

The youth laughed, an in fact there was a
broad grin upon the face of every one at the
table. or all understood now about the trap into
which Peyton had fallen.

“ 0h,3ust a fancy,” Talbot replied.

“ We , oung man, it is a good thing for me
that you d dn’t press me to bet more money, for
if you had, on could have broke me if I owned
the whole tate, for I would have been willing
to bet it all upon my hand, particularly after
you wanted the queen.
it’s ours, sir, and fairly won, but I don’t see
wha on earth you want to go to California for.
A fellow that can play cards as well as you can
g;ka all the money he wants right here in Mo-

1 e.

“ I would prefer to make money some other

way,” our hero re lied. “This is the first time
that I ever (plays cards for money in my life,
and I woul n’t have pla ed to—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
bothering yourself todig fold, if you choose to
devote yourself to card-p aying, and an time
you want a hacker who s willing to go is bot-
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 company dispersed.

Abner and Ta bot returned to the schooner
and great was the rejoicing among the crew
when they heard the story of the youth’s ad-
venture.

Durinzthevoymaflonhoardofthemm,

But rake in the money; ~

/

 

a

V _ Young Di

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 waited Colonel
Stoddar , Talbot paid the rest of his passage
money and then, still accompanied by his friend
and aided b his advice, went to the stores and
purchased t e articles that the Nantucket man
regarded as being necessary for the trip.

At noon the expedition sailed.

Long and tiresome was the journey,
larly the march over the isthmus of
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.

0 event worthy of particular mention pc-
curred on the journey, although ever thing
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 San Francisco, and came to
anchor. _

The wonderful city, which, like the magic
structures told of in the Eastern tales, bad
sprung up almost in a single night, was than
t robbing 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 t0wn, nearly all the houses being composed
of rough, unplaned boards, at together in the
most careless fashion, and a least one third of
the inhabitants of the place were living in

tents.

Such a wild, demoralizing city the world had
never seen before.

Drinking ailigdgambling went on openly in the
face of every y. _

Almost every saloon in the town had a gown
room attached to it, but what most astonishe
the new-comers was that eve one seemed to

rticu ~
anama,

, have plenty of money to lose, or these den: of

sin were crowded to repletion all the time.

Men really waited their turns at the bars to
get a drink and at the tables to be allowed a
chance to play, exactly the same as at a post-
omce or barber slips.

Colonel Stodd ’s bargain with the adven-
turers was merely to conve them to San Fran-
cisco: there his responsibilit ended and each
man was free to go where he iked.‘

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 accompany the colonel as he
assured them the diggm were rich, and in fact
declared it was his be of there was no better
point in California to make money.

Theateamer 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 so

cl: Talbot. 12'

’ 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-
-l put up at a big boarding tent kept by a- friend
i of his, where meals and a bed could be pro-
' cured for fifty cents apiece. ‘

Nantucket man and our hero sallied out to see
. the town.
I At the time of which we write, the old ex-
citement was at its hight, and the ty was»
crowded with as motley a population as ever
the sun shone upon.

The majority of the men sported huge beard .
were neither coats nor Vests, and stalk '
through the streets with pistols and knives.
belted openly to their sides.

It was not a place to delight the heart of a

 

, quiet magirfor there were a dozen rows a day. .
i

. to say no ng of the night, and the antagonists
were just as ready to use their weapons as their

‘ ton es and fists. .

i “ tell you what iti Dick,” the Yankee re-
marked, after they be strolled around for a‘

1 couple of hours and surveyed the busy, bustlin
town “ this here is a place where a man can

Having made arrangements at this place, the .

aflor tolet his tongue wag jest as it please!"

unless he’s chain-11g thing on the fight. And a
l feller to hold his own in this cussed crowdo ht '

l to be able to handle his we’pons jist as we as, '

his fists, for l notice these c ups are mighty apt
to go for their toad-stickers and their shootin’-

other.”

“ Yes, it seems to me that it is one of the
kind of places where a. man makes mongg- by
minding his own business,” Talbot observ

“That’s so, by gosh i” Abner declared. “It’s
the hardest
On, either. by, some of these big tellers swagd
gering around ook as if they was jest boiling
ow?“ a 3:11” ll 1

‘ on can wayste rom aman’s a 
ance whether he means business or not? the-
youth replied. “The loudest talkers are en»
erally the poorest fighters; and I guess glint.
some of those fierce-looking fellows, with their
big beards, hats cooked over their eyes,1 wear;
one at their side, and a swag er as mm: as
say, I’m the boss of the arc
come down in their pretension if they happened

afraid of them.”
“Mebbe they would—mebbe so," 0

 

the Yankee, with a wise shake of the head,

have see’ est sich things store. 1 allers used to

, notice w

‘ of his crow.”

i “I fancy that men are firstty much
chickens in that respect. a men who

an troub

‘Tbat’s so, sure as you’re hornlbut I kinder 
guessed the rest were afraid of ’em and ’gl‘n
em a wide berth. Didn’t you hear that case,

while
, rooster

a-s uting 'bout he was a red-hot

eathsr river. and how it alien

,,'

, would be apt to?

irons the minite they get to jawing one an- '

lace I ever struck, or beam fell. , _

torun across a man whom they saw wasn’t. ‘
“It 2‘

on I wasaboy, you couldn’t tell ’bouk . 
a ohichen’l fighting capabilities by the loudness.)

talk»\
the loudest are generally the ones who do tbev

least. And if you notice, you will see that; f , 
these swaggeging fellows don’t seem toget into .' i
e. z ,

 

 

 

 

 

18 Young Dick Talbot.

 

made him sick if he didn’t have a man furI it ain’t often that you get a chance to my
breakfast at least once a week?" 1 champagne by the lass.”

“ Oh, yes, I heard him, but I came to the con- I This was the trut l; at that time in San Fran-
ciusion that he was only talking for the pleasure cisco, it made no difference what you called for
_ of hearin his own beautiful voice and if any in the she. of drink, the price was the same;
one shoul want to take himnp, he’d be willing 1 “ two bits ’ covered the expense.

5:0 creep out of the smallest kind of a hole to l The beer was placed before the two and Ab-
avoid a quarrel, if he thought the other man her, who was an observant fellow, remarked to
reallfi meant business.” 5 his companiOn that the man would sell thce as

“ ebbe you‘re right ’bout it: there’s no tell- 1 much beer if he only filled his glasses.
ing, you know, until you try it, and between 1 Then the two lifted theirglasses and the Yan-
you and me and the bilipost, I ain‘t so darned , kee winked his left eye an observed: “Well,
curious ’bout it as to i" ng my precious person here’s looking at you! ’
for to find out.” But our hero was not destined to enjoy that

gillass of beer, for just as he nodded inreturn of
CHAPTER XI. t e Nantucket man’s salutatioul a huge, dirty
.AN INTEBLOPIB.

hand came over his shoulder and matched the
glass without the least bit of ceremony. _

B! this time it was high noon, and as the two i Turning quickly, the youth found himself
were some distance from the boardin tent-1 confronted by a. burly, ruiflanly-looking fellow
where they had taken breakfast, the ankee, l with a bloated face, the lower part of which
who was a hungry sort of mortal, ested that 3 was covered with a huge beard of tawny hue.
it would be a good idea to step into e nearest 5 no two heirs of which seemed to grow in the

- restaurant an get some dinner. I same direction.

. Talbot had no objection to this, and so the l The fellow was roughly dressed huge boots,
pair entered the first eating-saloon they came ‘ reaching nearly to his thi hs, breec es sostained
W0“- ‘x that it would have puzz ed a conjurer to have

“WM Nth” '5 319811.10" PM“, a! “‘0? di” guessed the original color; a. flannel shirt which
NW?“ at“? they had entered; “in 311°“ we" had once been red, but now was a. dirty brevVn.
quite a number of patrons within. and the and a high-crowned slouched hat, very much

‘ seemed W he dispatching the ‘00}1 With '13 “3110 the worse for wear com leted the attire.
V enjoyment 88 though they W979 1” a Palace- 1 In the belt which g ed in his brawny waist,

“’Tain’t much like the Astor £10380, is 1&7” <1 were two extra large revolvers and a hunting-
the Nantucket man observed to his companion ‘ knife of extraordinary size,
after they had entered and taken a look around. He opened his huge mouth a d a grin over-

“ No not much.’ , spread his uczly face as he behel the astonished

f‘Meth t‘hh deder’s 800d, though- 1811058111 1 expression upon the features of the oath, who
tins here country you can’t .tell much ’bout, any— ‘ had been taken completely by surpr se.
thing by the Why 17h°y Show  Like a 511189? “Ho, ho, ho!” roared the giant in a hoarse
can. the thin may be a good ea! better then 115 y voice which lainly showed its owner had been

Jooke Bay. 10k, Will you have A glass of beer indulging in iquor so excessively that his lungs
to give you an appetite for your dlnner’l” had bean damaged,” ’pears to me that this hyer

» “ I had 1‘13“ BS 5001} ha" a 81333 0‘ water," th" { leetle joke 0’ mine has completely upset this h yer
 youth TWPODdedi b91118 extremely tempera“ in strange baby from the Eastwardl and then he
allrhis habits. “haw-hawed” again as if he had perpetrated

“ TYYH BIBS! 0! “d3 then. but for @0th one of the best jests that mortal man ever
sake don’t say anything ’bout a gla of water oonoeived, ’
when there‘ 1'3 any such Elms 68 this hound. The youth had assumed his citizen’s suit upon
The ’11 think we’re greenhorns in a minim” landing, and of course looked neat and genteel

“ don’t care what the think; what business ‘ compared to the mejorit of the men who filled
‘ is it of theirs what we d nki” ! the streets of San Franc 800.

“None at all. of course. but this is such a : Talbot’s blood was heated almost to the boil-
pesky sort of a. town that I think it is best not to ing point by this occurrence, though he w“
 5“ Buy 1130" attention than 0'19 03“ NIP," l but a boy and apparently no match for the

I hhe “"69 replied. in his mum” WBY-‘ l' bull who had interfered with him.

“ POSSibly you are rightiyw have 3990 3 81"!“ I T e Nantucket man was thoroughly alarmed
deal more 0f “16 than 1 30 0'1 ought to know atthis untoward event, and although no cow-
Obouh “- I’ll take I 818880 b“? the“, 50 "‘0‘ aid and enerally able to take his own part
to be out of the fashion.” l wherever 0 might chance to go, yet he was not

ThOtWO advanced to the ha!" 111th which I anxious to have any trouble with such an ugly- _

mine of customers were reaped so-manyuto looking brute as the new-comer, so his first im-
~hefiptw0 bar-keeper! bu 1y employed. and the pulse was to advise his profs e not to pay an
Nantucket man ordered the liquid refreshment. “caution to the mm, but To?

“Mighty stran sort of a country this is for him.
anyhow,” he said a low tone to his companion, “ What do you mean by taking my gigs. an;
’ I0 “185 the rest could not overhear him. “Jest of my hand in that wa 1” he demmded. up.
1:: look and see what the crowd are drinking arently perfectly cool, a thou h in realit the
ndy champagne, whisky, gm, beer, and i y of a demon was re ing wfthin his vs? .
notice they all cost the same. twent -flve cents uW’otydidl'do it forlghawl hawP’exclai ed
a glass. tell you what it is . if I hid the intruder, “why jest for greens, you it ow;
known that I would have gone in for wine, for 1951; for. so keep you from makinz a, bout c,

.

bot was too qui

u. ,- he-

 

- youth did not move an inch.

V

Young Dick mam. ‘ ‘ is

 

yourself. Don’t you know that a leetle chap ;'
ike you ought never for to bother with strong
drill 24 It will muddle yer head up, make on i
sic ' at the stonimick and play the old mischief l
with you ginerally. Do you s’pose I ’m the kind 1
0’ man for to stand by and see a babe like you
u-histing in p’ison! No, sir-ee, bossfly, Bobl I
couldn’t do it. It goes ag’in’ my rain, every
time! Now, I’m an old soaker. ’1] put the
nust stqu out of the way and 'then you kin
sniel of my breath afterward; it will do you
a heap-sight more good.”

“You’re an impudent scoundrel, and you had
better ut that glass down or it will 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 ye? right smart spunky, too. We a],
kick me to death by crip led mules if I ain’t
glad I run across you. ’ve been lookingr for
some fun for eVer so long, and now I reckon I’ll
have a show; but you mustn’t git sarc , you
know, for I’m jest the kind of a mule~s inner
for to spank leetle hoyees with too much gab.”

“ Put that. glass down, you big loafer!” cried
the youth, to the utter astonishment of every-
body 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
do'vn that glass and apologize for having dared
to insult me by taking it out of my hand with
your dirty paw l” replied Talbot, resolutely.

“ Dog-gone me, if this don’t beat anything I
ever been tell onl” exclaimed the man, so
utterly astonished b the bold stand taken by
the youth that for t a moment he neglected to
resent it.

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

“Oh, don’t let .us have an words ’bout the
matter," he said. “We’re al friends here, all
gentlemen. and I guess thcre 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 fiercely upon the Nan-
tucket man. '

“Who in thunder ed anything to you?” he
roared. “Are you a-running this shindig or
am I? I want you to understand that I’m the
kind of man w'ot doesn’t allow anybody to stick
their s 0011 in my soup! Jest you b’ar in mind
that I m the cues w’ot’s frying these hyer fish
and you kin bet your bottom dollar the '11 be
done to a turn store I git through w th ’em
too.” And graspin the handle of one of his re-
volvers he advance upon Abner with so much
war in his manner that the Nantucket man in-
voluntarily retreated a couple of steps, but the

Satisfied with the impression he had produced,
the bully threw back his head and glared around
him for a moment.

 

‘ “I'm a wicked man. I am!” he declared.

 

“I’m spike from Missouri and as rough and
tough as they make ’em. reckon that some
of you folks in this hver burg must have heered
of we store; my handle is Jim Laclede 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 entle as a bob-tailed 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—bard!” 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 youth and shook their heads; in fact quite
a number of them came to the conclusion that
the excitement had turned his head, for the
did not think it ssible 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 had grasped and shook both of his fist! in the K- 4

face of the youth. .
“ W’ot’s that you sad?” be fairly howled.
“ Spit it out ag’in\i1 you dar’l”

CHAPTER XII.
A uvnu DISCUSSION.

 

“I am you were a tough old hlow-hsrdand ' *‘ ' y‘

no you are
the giant like a man, and wit
eyes that fairly astonished the Yankee, for the

Talbot exclaimed standing up to
h a look in his

youth had always been so quiet that the Nan- »- 3 ‘

tucket man never suspected there was anything
of the fighter about h m. a ‘
“ Why, you ’tarnel little fool, do you know I’ve ' i
killed men for much less than this hyerl” the.
bullv growled. ;
“ You will not kill me!” cried Talbot. ,
“ I would in a minite if on was any kind of 

a match for me! Oh, I w h you was a teller  

somewhar ’round my sisal wouldn't I hammer .
yer?” and the ruflian swung his brawny fists g,
around like windmills. ,
“No, you wouldn't hammer me, and it I.was
within ten pounds of your weight you wouldn’t
dare to open your head to me. ou_are only
tryin to play smart because you think I am x
buts oy and you can imgose upon me. but I, '
am not afraid of you, you lg, overgrown h .
You just put that beer down and apologize or 1:,
will be the worse for you.” , V
The bully still retained the lass of beer in his)

hand, and as the barkeeper. ike all his tribe, , 7

had been particular to give more foam than
liquor, it had not suflered materially from, his.

eccentric movements. -'  ,_

“ ’Pologizel oh. yes, otoourse. that is exactly , .
what I'm oing to do—w’ot ’n‘i” jest dying todo, _
and you in bet all our roe on it, too! hwox—'
claimed, sarcasti 1y.
bumble-heel When on wants. tasteless 'polo-;
gy, St. Louis J in: is eat the teller you want for 
to call upon. . ‘

« ’Pologies cut and dried, and k ’to order. ‘  ‘

It on don’t see what ou want ax or it. I .
‘ylnside of two wagot a mule’l tel I’ll show

you w’ot kind of a

a pesky lsetle cuss t t

 

“Yes. sir-ea. hon-fire: ~- . f7

 

   

90 Young Dick Talbot.

 

on you. so I’ll jest wet my whistle with this‘
layer drink; then I’ll wring your nose until you
beg‘my pardon and axes forgiveness for being
so sar . Here’s your jolly good health, gen’le-
men a 1”

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

lass in a shower of spray into the face of the

u y.

He had succeeded in gettiggthe beer, but not
in the we be had anticipa
r, The action was so sudden that St. Louis Jim
was taken completel by surprise and as his
big mouth was open in readiness for the beer, I
some of the fluid want into the capacious orifice,
and, led g in the windpipe, brought on a vio- ;
lent fit 0 coughing. 3

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 rufiian 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. I

“ Oar, owl’ howled the bully, writhing in
Talbot’s iron-like gras , bent almost double,
while his huge arms t rashed the air, and he !
danced u and dawn, first on one foot and then ‘
on the ot er 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 gripl and the big
fellow went sprawling over on is back, and
agfiin the bystanders laughed. l

at when the bully rose to his feet and glared ‘,

around the laughter suddenly ceased. Notwith- Y
standing the sorry exhibition which the bold l
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 1
of the ruman, but now that he had recovered ,
from the effects of the surprise, they feared it 3

would go hard with him.

“Run, you fool!” ejaculated one of thenookers-
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 feller will
eat you all up.

4 “Oh, no, he will not,” the youth answered,

“and if he attempts to try the thing on, I guess
- he’ll find I’m about as tough a morsel as he ever

got hold of since he was weaned.” 1

Talbot had spoken freely, and his words

' :reached the ears of the other. 4

With a fiendish scowl he cut his evil-looking
-eyes upon the boy. 1

“ You have been having a regular picnic at
'my expense, I reckon,” he growled, “but you ‘
Lkin bet all your pile now that the fun is over, !

. and business is oing to begin. You‘re mighty
~ . fort with your ands for a youngster, but arter
git through with you, I reckon you’ll think

. two the next time you take it inter your
'noddle for to try liberties with the nose of
ouch a gentleman as I am!” And then he com-

menced to roll up the LIBBVBS of his dirty shirt
in a manner that plainly hetokened business.

The Yankee became dreadfully alarmed.
During his acquaintance with our hero he had
never witnessed any disdplay of skill in the box-
ing line on his part, an 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 hisweight, 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 rniilan.

“See here!’ he exclaim , “this ain’t the
fair thing at all! Jest look at the diflerence
atwixt you two! Why, “you’re almost big

I enough to eat this ’ere boy.

“And I reckon I could do it too might
easy, if he was on] well buttered and suited! ’

the bully replied, th a ferocious 11. “But
thar aint any use for you nor no y else to
This hyer leetle

stick our in this soup.
cuss has wasted me in the worst way, and I’m

no man if I don’t make him sweat for it! Oh,

i I tell you, I’m an ugl buck 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 watchin the scene with
great interest. “ This man be ’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 lared around at the bystanders as
much as toss , “Which one of you is anxious
to take up this quarrel on behalf of the boy 9”

But there wasn’t a man in the crowd who was
desirous of having a hand in the afiair.

The savage appearance of the burly roman
and the weapons he so openlly displayed were
quite enough to make all n t e sa oon anxious
not to provoke his anger, and there wasn’t a
man in the lace who did not consider the boy
a little crac ed in the upper story for daring to
brave the wrath of such a redoubtable foeman.

“ Yes, sir-ee, that was only a joke,” repeated
the milieu, “and durn a case say I that ain't

t the lit to take a leetle joke like that out

yer 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 ammed in the
crack of a door for sure,” and wit 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?” albot demanded. “ Because
if you are am not, and although I may not
be as big as ahouse, vet I am~large enou h to
resent such an insult every time. I no
odds from anybody and though not a fit, yet
I’m not afraid of holding my own, w vs: I
may no.”

 

   

    

   

 

 

Yonng Dick Talbot. 8!

 

l

“ You are the loudest crowing rooster that I
ever run across,” the other observed. “ You’re
rich a sarc leetle cuss that you really make
me smile. hate like thunder to have to warm
{ , but it’s a duty I owe to the countfiy for if

he conceit isn’t ta en out of you the hu durned
coast wouldn’t be big enough to hold'you.”

“ Take care that you don’t make a mistake in
{our reckoning!” t e youth exclaimed. facing

is o ponent in the most undaunted manner.

“ arn me if I don’t hate to thrash you, you
cussed leetle bantaml” the bully exclaimed.
“ I’ll- tell you what I will do. You’re in a
’tarnel mess byer, but seeing as how you air a
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 ’pology, say you’re
sorry for throwing the beerin my face, and
that you feel meaner’n thunder, ’cos you pulled
my bugle, then stand treat for the hull gang in ‘r
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 _

“ et down on my kneeslsnd apologise!”

“That’s the peppergram

“ And if I don’t?"

" I’ll jest welt you until you’re sick or sore l”

“ Sail in l” and Talbot put up his hands in an
extremely scientific manner.

 

CHAPTER XIII.
sermon seamsr BRUTE macs.

81‘. Louis Jm surve ed the oath for a mo-
ment in amazement. e coul hardly believe
he had heard aright, and the bystanders looked

ually surprised. , ‘
anben the proposition was made, there wasn t
a man in the saloon who had not at once jumped
to the conclusion that the b0 would be only
tooglad to avail himself of t is easy mode of 3
getting out of the dimculty in which he had be- 1
come involved. ‘

“ W’otl do you mean for to say that you won’t
do it!" the ruflan exclaimed.

“ Not much I” Talbot refilled. ‘

“ I reckon you’re jest ungry for a thrash- -

in !”
fiAnd if I am, I reckon you’re not the man

yet he had determined that he would not stand?
tamelfiy and see his protege brutally beaten.

St; 1113 Jim, like all men of his class, was
considerable of a rough-and-tumble fl hter, but
almost totally ignorant of the true p nciples 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 fighting in which he had graduated,
kicking, bit ng and gouging were all allowed.

Anticipating then an ass Victory for he felt
sure he was strong enou 1 to crush his puny
antagonist almost to deat the moment he got
a good hold on him, be advanced with very
litt e caution.

He starred with his huge arms, just as if he in-
tends to knock his opponent insensible at the
first stroke.

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

When the two came within arm’s-length, .

I for Talbot had advanced equally as nick 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
had‘imagined. ,
Jim was perhaps by fifty pounds the heavier

man, but not over an inch taller, and no longer_ ‘

in the reach.

But the contrast between the style of the two
was wonderful, and there wasn’t a man in the
mags! 1:320 did not remar‘li: it. m m “I

was easy an grace 0 er
clumsy in the extreme.

When they came within reach they spar-red
for a few moments, seeking for an opening to
put in a. blow.

“ You’ve got a retty nice-looking head on
you,” St. Louis in: remarked. “ ’
that I shall be obligated to spile it for life.”

“I can’t return the compliment for you are

about the ugliest-looking brute that I ever en- .

countered,” the youth replied.
“Oh, I’m ugly. am Ii” cried the other with a

furious scowl, working his hrawny arms' like a. , :
[pair of wind-mills, striving to measure his op-

ponent so as to gut in a tremendous’bl'ow.

" Very ugly, answered Talbot, gradually '
weaving in, and bracing himself for atremen-
dous eflort.

m sorry '

 

able to give it to me.” “ Wait till I git through with you ifedyou

“ Boys, I hate like thunder to welt the leetle want to see an ug y cuss i” the bully grow .
cuss, but you see he’s got to have some sense , Hardly had the words left his ips when
knocked into him,” remarked Jim. addressing j quick as a flash the left arm of the youth shot
the crowd. “ I call upon the hull b’iling of you out and its iron-like knuckles, landing on the

to witness that! offered to let him out, and he , ri ht cheek of the radian. ri ht under the aye, i

wouldn’t have it. He’s anxious for fun, and he . w th is smack that sounded ike the crack of a

won’t have no call tocom lain if he gits a leetle I black-snake whip, knocked the man backward ’

more than he expects. ow 109k out_for' our- a yard or more.
self. for it’s an earthquake that s comm 1’ A“ involuntary u Ah!» came from am up. of
The bystanders were all eyes, while_ _
tucket man was in a fever. In his opinion the
youth stood no chance at all, and while he knew
that it would not do for him to interfere in the
beginnin , as the bystanders were evxdeutly
in ined side with the bully, for there were
far more stamps than honest man in the niece:

seen a more eflective blow struck.
With a hoarse cry of rage more likothe bowl
of a wild beast than the utterance of ahuman,

his 0 ponent.

}

e Nan- all present. Few of the bystanders had ever ,_

therufllansteadiedhimseuandthenrushedupon g
1‘ hot. mos haw-am! e- flrm'ru Meal.

, .
fizzy!“ - a

t ‘

MW:  m :-

    

 

28 . Young Dick Talbot.

 

l
1

lmbedded in the floor and as his antagonist ing his big head like a bull at bay, and endeav-

rushed upon him, out shot his powerful is 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
rufiian 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-
; gauge 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 l

asserted that the blow had been given with suf-
«, 7 _ flcieut force to have felled an ox. ,
. ' I There was a moment of silence as the cta-
f  tors, amazed at the sight, the like of whic the
A had never beheld before, took a look at the f -
:zr » leu man and then turned inquirin ezes upon
each other‘ as much as to say: “ t sort of
a fellow is this, anyway?” referring to the con-
queror.
I “ Hooray l” ejaculated the Nantucket man,
. abrugtl , as he perceived that the fight was
., i ,, ende , gr he felt pretty certain that the rufiian,
. after what had occurred, would not feel much
3," like continuing 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 -
"v, . feet a sign of life.
‘ But the suspicion was not correct, for after a
:' n with water had been applied to his tem-
" » p es, e 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.
v , This doubt did not last long, for the moment
:5" his eyes fell upon his antagonist he understood
‘\ what had happened.
x _.~ “Cues me you ain’t jxt old lightnin !" he
21%;: exclaimed rising dowl his feet. “ av, it
-. ' , ain’t possihh that you it me with your fists?
' Ain’t you got a club or a Fair of brass knuckles
or something of that sort ’
“  »_ The youth shook his head, while the bystand-
‘ or! hastened to assure the bull that he had
ta been whipped in the squarest kin of a fight.

‘ ‘ “Darn me if I understand it,” and he shook
his head in a dubious sort of way. “ Why, my
2‘ noddle feels as bi as a bushel basket and that
, last lick you ' me under the jaw ’bout
' l , cracked it,'I rec n.”
{‘5‘ .' “Are on prepared to apologize new!" the
2f, yOuth as ed, sternlvy. -

 * “Eh, w’ot’s that ’aud the rufflan appeared to
be intensg'liy surprised.
“I ask Iyou if you were pre ared to apolo-
,. ;, ’, as for ins ting me by snatch ng the glass of
P r put of my hand! Talbot exclaimed, ap-
‘: preaching insuch a decidedl threatening man-
ner.that the rufflan ste back until his re-
treatwas out of! by the do of the house.
"391’ on, w’ot are you ’bouti" he cried. shak-

 

 

in,

ormg to look fierce.

“ Are you going to apologizef" 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 Bur gravsyard picked out i" ex-
claimed St. uis Jim, clutching one of his re-
volvers.

l “You big, brute, ain’t you satisfied with
1 what you have already received?” 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 hammer
f you without mercy long before you can cook it
‘ in readiness for use. You have got to apologize,

I want you to understand that, and I don’t in-
‘ tend you shall get out of it.”

“ You hain't given me any show for my
money,” the ruifinn grumbled, anxious to draw
his pistol, and yet afraid to do it as ion as the
‘ terrible right arm of the youth menace him.
“You have had all the chance that a man
‘ could have,” Talbot replied. “You have been

fairly whipped in a fair fight, and you ought to
' be satisfi , but if you are not, now is the time
, to as so. You are complaining that you
i 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?”
, 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 thou h he hated mortally todo
‘ it, yet as the only th ng possible under the cir-
‘ cumstancee, with an ill grace he agologized, and

then, with acovert threat that t e 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~
,1 duct, but as soon as possible Abner and his
‘ protege departed.

CHAPTER XIV.
rnnnonnsn’s spar.

” 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. feller needed
good weapons as much as good tools,” observed
the Nantucket man. ’

“Yes, and we ought to have heeded his ad-
vice and got an outfit in Mobile.”

“ I ass that was my fault,” the Yankee ac-
know edged. “ But I never had occasion to
need any weapons, and I thought it wou'd only
be a waste of money to inVest in any; but,
Dickt, I’m going to put some cash in some now,

away.

5‘1 think it will be advisable, for it is evi-
dent there are plenty of rough fellows in this
oountr who care nothing for the law, and as
theyal go armed to the teeth they would be
apt to presume upon the fact if they came across
9 man who we! not Wed- If this fellow bed

I

 

/ .

\, . .. '  x . I
> ,., ‘e ,. _ .,

',5._’r . ~I , , ‘

3.1m 3-- 4:2.

‘27“

g.
t
I

 

i
J

 

 

Young Dick Talbot.

h

succeeded in drawin his revolver to-day, it
would have one her with me, for I haven’t
the least dou t that the scoundrel would have
shot, me down in cold blood, without any mer-
c .
“ Bakes 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
you could have done it. Why. the critter was
1g enough to eat you. I trembled in my shoes
“min “mail, d loped r d u:
am we eve or m a an en
too, men who are jud sin sag) glitters say i
am unusually power 1. In fact, I could al-
ways fight as much as any other two members
of the social club to which I longed, and at
the club I learned to box and w tle. I had a
natural taste for all muscular a usements, and
sotook to them; but I never ought that my
accomplishments in that line would ever come
in so handily as they have to-dav.”

“ By gosh! you handled him like aprine fight-
er. I ve seen a good mung scuflles in to time,
but I”never saw a man w ipped so quic ly be-

ore.

“The man was stron enough, but he didn’t
know anythin about xing, and that gave
me a terrific a vantage; and then, too, the fel-
low was a coward at heart. despite of all his
bravado. I felt pretty sure of that when he
troubled me, for a man who really amounted
to anything wouldn’t out of his way to pick
a quarrel with one w 0. apparently, was no
match for him.”

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

“ And the moment the scoundrel came at me,
I saw from the way he put u his hands that he
hadn't any knowledge of the xer’s art, and so
it was an easy matter for me to hit him when
and where I iked—end I made up In mind
right at the beginning that I would strl e him
for all I was worth.”

“ And you did, too—there isn’t any mistake

about that. I never saw a critter heeled over

more beautifully in all m
exclaimed in glee, and
:hlen he reflected upon'the-discomflture of the-

u .

J uyst then they came in sight of a store in the
windows of which a fine assortment of weap-
ons were-dis layed.

“Here’s t e place for us to stock u " said
the 1youth, directing the attention of com-
pan on to the store.

“ When you’re in Tur , do as the turkies
do.” responded the Nantuc et man, with a grin,
“ And as all the critters in these parts go 'round
with knives and pistols harnessed to ’em, I
s’posewe ought not to be out of the fashion.”

So the two friends entered the store, and each
one invested in a pair of revolvers and a.‘ cod:
sized bowie-knife, together while plentif sup-
ply‘ of ammunition.

mm the store they;1 Proceeded to head-quar-

onel Stoddard who in-

formed them that all preparations had been

made for the ourne , and the expedition
would set out at ve o’c ook next morning.

born days!” Abner

ters. and there met

V '7

e laughed outright p

 

"I sha’n‘t besorry 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
ion or in this ’tarnal town than we kin help.

“ hat hi rascal is an ugly ooot—l’d he will-
ing to bet n nepence on thatl—and if he found
out we was in town, he’d git together a gang of
roughs some night jest for the purpose of getting
even with us.”

“He‘s none too good for it,” the youth as-.

sented.

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

in .”

EOh, we mustn’t run away from the scamp.
you know.”

“Run—not much! Oh, no; I wouldn’t mu,
not for the world; but rather than have any
trouble, and being obli ed to kill adoaen or two
of the land- irates,
fast,” replied t e Yankee, with his everlasting

n. ,
Promgtly at the ap inted time in the mom-
ing, Co nel Stoddsr led his party out of San
Francisco.

There were fifteen pilgrims in the expedition,
who had been persuaded by the colonel’s

would walk mighty ,

eloquence to try their luck at Frenchman’s '

Flat.
The ourney was an uneventful one, and
in due time the party arrived at their destina~

The lace was situated on the upper Mari
river, End possessed a po ulation of possibly a
hundred souls all told
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-g

elers rode into the town, and therefore all the
inhabitants were at home, having knocked ofl
work for the day.

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

ouse: »

The clpal income of the store was from

the as e of whisky, for the express-agth a I

regular saloon in one of the store.

‘ I see you’re all sott ed and inrunning order ”
the colonei remarked as he rode up to t e hota'rl,
forthRichar-dgn had di ifled hismeshtalél‘ishlmezig
w arnd pain sign,w c spay ~
it we’d-em e, and the words, “ American

0

“Oh. : all in a 19- ie order colonel” J ‘1
y“ is}: stinking minds with.

responded the lsndlo
Stoddard after he dismounted. “You’ye ot
quiws party with you,” he added, running is

eyes over the new-come“:i and mentally calcu- w

lating how much he woul be able to make out

of the crowd.

“Ireckonso. Itold the b0 s they couldn‘t 
“$399,199 “it /

find a better glues to drive the
Frenchman’s. It,"
 a ’  .‘z'fi ..

 

....
-v:‘.

in the rear a.

men, with the cxcep— '

 

l
g

i
i
i

 

 

 

    

24 Young Dick Talbot.

The claims are panning out rat-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 new comers listened
with eager ears to this cheering intelligence.

V “ But walk right into the house, gentlemen
and I will do my best to take care of you until ‘
you fix up laces of your own,” the old man l
continued. ‘ Supper is about ready, and you’ve
just got time to join me in a social drink store
you sit down to the table.”

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

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, ‘
and the hoped to be excused from accepting
’ the pro ered hospitality. I

But the old man had his eyes on our hero,
. who in his appearance was so different from the

rest, who were somewhat rough in their appear-
ance.

“Come, youngsterl” Richardson exclaimed,
' “step to the front and take a swig of whisky;
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 afore your
mother!”

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

“I’m very much obliged to on, sir, but I do
not care for it," the youth rep ied, quietly.

“Neither do I!” the Yankee exclaimed.
“I’ve drank more whisekiy 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, of course, this is
a free country,” Richardson remarked in a
rather insolent sort of way. “You are stran-
rs to this coast and cannot be expected to un-
erstand our ways, but you will get used to
them in time, butI can te 1 you that there are
some cam s in California where it wouldn’t be
wise tore usea drink when it is politely ten- ,
dared by a gentleman.”

“ Oh, the youngster will come to his milk one
« of these days,” observed the colonel. “Let’s

, dro the subject now sndgo in to supper.”
' ~ A d so no more was sai about the matter.

At the supper-table the adventurers were
tg‘lven 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-eyed
blonds-haired beauty, with s buxom figure an
a charming face. ~

She was a pleasant, honest sort of girl, and as
our hero afterward discovered, as much liked
as her parents were disliked by the majority of
the miners.

Richardson introduced his wife and daughter ,
toColonel Stoddard with a great flourish as "

 

, knot from being untied.
! wild chap in his time but his wife is one of the

“I reckon you are about rl ht there, colonel. ‘ they had arrived during his absence and then

they all sat down to supper.

 

CHAPTER xv. ,
A. CREATING TRANSACTION.

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

Darkness had arrived by this time but as the
full moon came up early the pair were -able to

etapretty good idea of what the town was

lke. .

“That Richardson is a kinder dear old
rooster,” Abner observed as they stro 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 allopossessed 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 apple that he
makes more money out of that p ce 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 on happen to
notice at the supper-table how a cast sheep’s
eyes at the leetle gal.”

“9h, yes, he was evidently impressed by

r.
“ And, Dick, don’t you think that the colonel
is a leetle too old for to be shining up to sich a

, young heifer?” asked the Yankee. shrewdly.’

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

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

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

“That’s so; who ’bout as close-mouthed a
critter asever run across. Well, what I was
going to say ’bout the colonel is, I guess he can’t
git spliced to any gal ver well, for I’m pretty
certain he’s got a wife in obile.”

“ That would rather interfere.”

“ Yes, I believe that they have separated but
I understood that there hadn't been any legal

1 divorce. As I heard the story, his wife comes
3 of a good family, and there’s a big chance she

will come in for a heap of money one of these
days, and so the colonel is anxious to keep the
He’s been a pretty

iculer sort, and s e would rather live apart
rom him, and make believe not to know any-
thing about his didoes, than to go into a court
and so publish her wrongs to everybod ."
“Of course I don’t now much a t the
colonel. bat 1.15m!“ 9 my “sh opium 9i

/

 

  

l
i

L...;f-...x;q....~_._ w... ____._J.. _

 

    

'a

Young mes: Talbot.

him. rm inclined to believe he would he ox-l
tremely ugly and disagreeable if he fancied an
one was in his way,” the youth observ ,
thallgmuny' v c in lead ’b t h "
guess ouve go ms up on ri t

Abner admitted. ~ g ,

“ But as we are not likely to come in contact
with him, it will not make a particle of diflert
encedwmufigen if Ego is high-tempered and dis-
pose o a lo.

“ Not a mitegl’u’1

“But about this girl afl'air, an the
colonel does go after her!" asked 1; e youth,

slowlfi. A l
“ ell, what if he does!" asked the Nantucket
man, with a covert glance into the face of the

other. l

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

“I swow, boy, you are puttin a prettX
knotty question to me i” Abner excla med. “ l
lawyer might get ’round it by sa ing that as it 1
ain’ an of our business, we ain’ got any ri ht
to into ere, and might strengthen‘his posit on
by repeating the old adage that he had known a
good manélmen in this world to get rich by at-
tending s 'ctly to their own busmess."

“ But would it be honest for us to allow the
colonel to act like a scoundrel when by a word ;
we could prevent itl” the youth demanded ab-
ru

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

“ If she was a daughter or sister of ours, i
wouldn’t we thank the man from the very bot«
tom of our hearts, who was bold enough to step
forward and revent the crime, for it a crime ‘
and in my op nion an atrocious one.”

“ Well, you can ilest bet all the wealth you’ve ;
at that we would ” cried Abner, all his better
«11’ng aroused by the appeal of his companion.

“ at is the way I feel about it, and I tell
you, Abner. I’m not goingI to stand tamel by
and see the girl wron ed. ’m not anxious or a
quarrel, and least of l with the colonel, for he’s
a hotrblooded Southerner, with the reputation
of bein an expert duelist, and if there is trouble
it will fin all probability, lead to bloodshed, but
right is right and when the time comes I do not
into to be found upon the wrong side.

“ e may be borrowing troable 1n this mat-
ter, you know; the colonel may not have any
intention of pursuing the rl, but, somehow,
from the we be looked at er, the idea came
into my he 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 it nothing comes of it;
but, Dick, jest you make up your mind'that
{on kin depend upon me clean through,” replied

bner.

B this time the twain had arrived at the hotel
an so the conversation ended. ‘ ,

The accommodations aflorded by the Ameri-
can Hotel were far worse than any thin that the
adventurers had yet struck‘in the 601 on State.

All the miners slept in one large room. Some

08

rude bunks composed of pine boo were ar
ran d on the floor and each indi dual spread
his lanket and camped down upon it, not the
least bit of bed-clothes being provided. ,

But some way in ite of these scanty accom-
modations the men s ept s lendidly.

All were up betimes n the morning and
Abner and Dick, having taken counsel from the
men who were posted in regard to the claims
offered for sale in the neighborhood of the town

rchased 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
why such an odd name had been given to the
claim but after they had lbeen working it for
a week with very poor success, hardly getting
enough out of the claim to peg livin expenses,
their neighbor, a grim grin e old fe low of vast
experience in mining matters being one of the
pioneers of ’fort -nine, enlightened them one day
when he stroll over at sunset to see how they
were ettln along.

on on i s a kinder queer name ” he
observed with a chuckle, when Dick let {all a
remark in regard to the queer appellation.

“ It seems so to us,” Abner answered.

“Afore you t throu h with it you’ll find it
will be nip an tuck wit starvation as long as
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 I
‘ of the place, and the miner more than insinur

ated that Stoddard had a uired all the lucre
he possessed not by success ul mining, but b
speculating in claim buying up lands of litt e
value and isposing 0 them to guileless fortune<
seekers at an enormous advance.

After they ascertained these facts, the part-I

ners held a consultation.

, They had bought the claim with their eyes
0 n and there wasn't any use of ap sling to
t e colonel about the matter, and so hey came
to the conclusion that the only thin to do
was to hold on to it while they con d 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 bein particularly dishonest,
and it did not seem hurt his popularity in
the least. for when the miners came to the con-
clusion that the camp had grown big eno h to
be or nized into a reguar town, Stod ard
was c osen for alcalde by an almost unani-
mous vote. '

On the night after the election, when the

result of the contest was made known and the

rtisans of the successful men.were cele-
rating his election by a be e bonfire in front
of the hotel and the colone, from a second-

stery window, was returning his " heartfelt ‘

thanks” to his fellowcitiaens, 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 of the successful town known as French—
man’s Flat,” the

are standing at the ’A
door of the little ca which they had erect-’

 

36 fl / 901mg Dick Talbot.

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 prospermg ” Abner
remarked in a rather dolefu way, as e noted
the bonfire blazing up against the night and
the cheers of the celebrating miners came dis-
tinctly to his ears, “but I wow it seems to his
as if that ’ere thing don‘t hold ood out in this
countr , for jest see this gee ysarpint of a
colone . 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
man in the place. Old Jones "—the veteran be-
fore mentioned—“ said this mornin that there
wasn't any doubt ’bout the colone ’s election,
for the biggest rascal in the cam was always
chosen for alcalde, and every Ty knew that
old Stoddard filled the bill to a ."

“ ‘ It’s a long 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 going to have satisfaction for this
mine swindle, and pretty soon, too, you can
depend upon it. If 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 COIDNEL’S Dam.

Fox some three weeks affairs in the camp
went on without anything occurring worthy of
mention.

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 leased
with his endeavors. although the ol folks
helped the colonel along in every possible way.

In such a small community it wasn’t possib
for an of the members to remain long strangers
to eac other. and so Miss Richardson and our
hero, young Talbot, became acquainted, and a
mutua liking spring up between them, although
the old man and h s wife never lost an oppor-
tunit to revile the partners.

Ne ther 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 hug?! manner.

Frenchman’s lat was like all other places in

 

,

' , this world, and the talebearer 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.

usuall stopped and chatted fora few minutes . sum
rown up in Stoddard’s .

with t e rtners.

An as y feeling bad
mind in re ard to the ankeeand Talbot- he
knew that e 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 even with him.
and then, too since he had become alcalde of
the town, he ancied that the pair did not treat.
him with the respect due to his exalted station.

This was true enough, for both the Yankee

and Talbot were—to use Abner‘s quaint ex-

BESSIOD, “ as independent as a hog on ice,” and
aiding the colonel to be a mean rascal, they

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

Stoddard, when he foun that his suit did not

produce the impression he desired upon the
ady, and about that time heard that she was
fond of talking to the youth, immediately
jum to the conclusion that in Dick he had a
riva , 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 getting out
the dirt for his companion to wash. n 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 yomoung man."

Stodd ’s manner was domineering and
oflensive in t treme.

“Go ahe , I’can hear what you say, I guess,”
replied Talbot, leaning on his pick and surve -
ing the colonel with anything but a friend y
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 look with interest,
though, for he had made up his mind not to
yiel an inch to the old scoundrel.

“ You are new to these diggings, and not as
Hell gosted as you might be, the colonel con-

nue .

“ Ri ht you are about that. If either myself
or par uer had been posted, it isn’t likely that

on would have been able to have stuck us with
is worthless mine,” replied the youth, shortly.

The colonel ew red in the face as this an-
swer fell upon is ears. He had not expected to
have the truth so plainl delivered toh m.

“Oh, you don’t thin the claim is good for
anything then!"

"Yes, I do; first-rate to give to a man that
you on can w om you wo a see
d tlik d h uldbegl dto

starve to death.”

“ I have understood that you have been shoot-
ing 01! you mouth pretty lively about this
claim, and I want you to know that I am not
the kind of man to allow any such talk 1” Stod-
dard exclaimed threateningly.

“ Oh, you swindle a man first and then stand
3% to kick him if he complains," Dick re-

 

“ You’re using hard words young maul” the
colonel cried, not exactly knowing what to
mak‘i:d of the bold front that the youth has as-

“ It‘s nothing but the truth. and I guess you
know it as we] as Ido,” and Talbot favored the
other with asigniflcant glance that made him
fair] glow with rage.

“ min the we you talk I should fanc you
wanted to rave e a difficulty!” and 81:0 dard
assumed a reateuiug look.

“ Oh no I’m not anxious to uarrei with an
one. I’m t as peaceable a to low as you wirl
find anyw ere, yet I don’t believe in allowiu
eve body to walk over me, and if any man, i
don' care wholie hatteuipts to rub mshair

 en.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

l
l.
i
a
A.
i.

 

1a.”: '17. “7.,

.. ‘ M“W~A¢.m~- man I

 

. an explanation.

Young Dick Talbot.

5-.

 

the wrong way, it is more than likely I shall 9
get angry.” .

_“Neither am I anxious to have a difficulty
With any person,” Stoddard nbserVed, endeavor-
ing to restrain his anger and appear calm, for
be was conscious that if he allowed his temper
to get the better of him, the youth would have i
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
truck for all time to come.

01' course he had made up his mind that if
Talbot was stiff-necked and obstinate, he would
provake him to_ a personal encounter, relyin
upon his skill With weapons to kill the boy, 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 if the affair had a fatal ending
he would be held free from blame.

His 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 not heed the warning, yet not
for an instant had he imagined such a. thing
would become necessary. for he farcied he coul
frighten the boy into doing as he wished.

Talbot’s bold front therefore su rised 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
I 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
my mind I would come right to you about the
matter. I don’t want anybody to 0 round the
camp telling lies about me, you now,” .and
§toddart shook his finger impressively in Dick’s

ace.

Wheu_this oflensive speech escaped from the
colonel, it was as much as Talbot could do to
restrain the impulse which bade him smack the
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
Dick’s iron-like hand, he most surely would hava
changed his mind in regard to the ca abilities
oftthe antagonist whom he was muc under-
ra mg.

Talbot’s muscular owers were entirely un-
known to Stoddard, or at the youth‘s request,
his encounter with the bully in San Francisco

 

had been kept quiet, for Dick was not anxious
to ackquire t e reputation of being a hard nut to ‘
crac .

‘° hav’n‘t told anv lies about you, colonel,”
he replied. “ In fact, I hav’u’t said much of
anything about the claim to any one.” And a
th s was the truth, for Stoddard’s idea that the |

tners had been traducin him on account of ' affairs that o ht nottobo dela ed' the nickel-
onlootthemmearose maxuiltyknowl- “but;qu y ' q

edge that he had most gromiy swindled the
unsus ting pilgrims in the sale.

“ 1 the old inhabitants of the valley know
that the claim isn’t good 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

i 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 the onl cost you five.”

“ That’s a is!” cried the colonel shortly.
“The fellows owed me over a. hundred and
fifty dollars good, honest cash. I ave them
five dollars to help them out of the wn, took
tfie clpim for the debt and so squared the
t ing.

“ Of course I don’tknow anything about that
I’m only telling you what I have heard, an

on have it as cheap as I got it. My opinion
hough, is, that if you only paid five dollars for
the claim, you were badly swindled, for it is
absolutely Worthless.”

“You’re not experienced miners and probe- ‘
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 thin I want to
talk to you about. I understan you have
been patting ourself out of the way to address
Miss '
shortly become my Wl e your conduct is not,
pleasing to me and I want you to stop it.” '

“ Anything else?” asked Dick so calme that
the colonel was completely deceived.

“ No. nothing more that I can think of at pres-
ent. Well, you understand now how the and
lies so look out in the future " and then with
an imperious nod of the head Stoddard saun-
tered away satisfied he had crushed a possible
rival out 0 his path.

Never was a man more deceived.

CHAPTER XVII.
m mmsron.

ABNEB after the colonel’s departure came in
haste to see what was up, for, although he was
too far of! to overhear the conversation, yet .
from the appearance of the two durin the talk.
he had guessed that the interview h not been
a pleasant one.

ick related all that
anger of the Nantucket man was great.

“ Why, the p’lsoned sarpintl” he exclaimed.
“ He wants to add insult toinjury. Be ain't
satisfied with skinning us out of our mono but ~
he wants us to back im up for his liberal ty in
selling us the darned thing. What are you a-go-
ing to do ’bout it, Dick?”

‘ Cut his comb so closely at the first favorable .
that he will never be able to hold .
up his hea hi h enough to crow again in this ’
region!” replie the youth, abruptly, and the
expression upon his clear-cut features showed
that it was no idle boast. _ .

“ How .soon do you calculate to try it on!"
the Yankee asked.

“ To-night, I guess. This is case! the kind of

opportunit

0 better. After what has 00-

 ‘l 

 

 

char son latelyé and as that lady will ; . p, 

hndoccnrredand their 

4t

 

 

, hustle round pretty lively for grub or else learn

.lug‘ order.
n
‘ fly: into, miss-fire would be apt to cost a man

i

28

Young Dick Talbot.

 

curred to-da this camp isn’t big enough to hold I
both the co anal and myself unless one of us
knocks under. He intends mischief to the girl
too, for he announced that she would shortly
become his wife.”

“ And 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 acquaintance 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
with on."

“ T ere isn’t much doubt about that,” the
outh remarked with a smile. “ Stoddard in
ringing on this quarrel presumed upon the

fact that I am only a boy, and he thinks he has
a soft thing.”

“ But store he ets through he may change
his opinion ’bout t at matter,” the Yankee re-
marked knowingly.

He had such faith in his companion that he
did not doubt in the least in re ard to the result.

He was sure that if Stod ard ventured to
bring on a struggle he would very soon discover
he had caught a Tartar.

At sundown when the artners came to figure
up the product of the ay’s work they found
that they had only succeeded in getting about
two dollars worth of dust.

“Blamed if the thing ain’t gitting worse in-
stead of better 1” the Nantucket man exclaimed.
discouraged by the unprofitable result. “ If it
keeps on in th s way it will peter down to ’bout
fifty cents a day and then I reckon we’ll have to

to git alon without any.”

‘ It is a ut time t at we kicked up alittle
fuss 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

' and bear it. but two hundred is altogether

bad—too big a profit on an investment 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 ni htfall, was the general rendez-
vous for the m ners.

It was dark by the time they reached the cen-
ter of the camp and when they came in sight
of the hotel the lYankee suggested that as there
was a Erobabllity of their getting into a row in
case t ey had any words with Stoddard, it
would only be prudent for them Ito examine
their . weapons and see that they were in work-

a leetle discussion such as we are apt to
life," he observed.

 

Dick assented to this. and the two retired to i

the shelter of a convenient little clump of
bushes and examined their weapons.

Hardly was the examination completed when
they became aware that two men were ap-
proaching the t busy in conversation.

The two. sitt ng in a little open spot in the
center of the bushes, were complete] concealed
from view, and the new-comers be. within
earshot of the partners, without the slightest
auspigion that their conversation could be over-

ear .

“ tell on what it is, old man,” said one of
the two, 1.1 a voice which both of the listeners
immediately recognized, “you have ttocomo
to some decision in this matter, an speedily,

too.’

The aker was Colonel Stoddard.

“ We l, colonel, ou needn’t git hufl 'bout
the matter. 1 rec on I’m doing all I for

on,” re lied the other, who was the hotel-
ee er 0 d Richardson.
he 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-
nized the speakers the moment he heard their
vaices.

“But you are not doing enough. You know
I want the girl and that ought to be suflcient,”
the colonel complained.

“ Ain’t I talking for on all the time, both me
and the old womani by, colonel, we never
lose a chance to din it into her ears what a
splendid catch it won d be for her if she could

onlyget you.”

‘ es, yes, that i 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 will! 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 b the hour togetheri"

emanded Btoddard,angrl y.

“Well, 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 9
best of me.”

“ It’s got to be stOpped; that’s all there is
about it! the colonel remarked in aperemptory

manner.

“I’ll do all I can, of course, but I tell you,
Stoddard, it isn’t any easy with such a contrary
heifer as my gal. I you attempt to put a tight
gin upcn her she is mighty aptto kick over the

ces.

“See hyer, Richardson, I’ve been a good
fiiendtlto you, haven’t Ii” the other demanded,
a ru y.

“ h, as colonel, on allus helped me out
Eben I aged?! afiziwmitan‘ocoeabut themes;

0 means 0 pu a
your pocket too." may

 

4...; 

 

41¢: a 

 

- that’s what’s the matter.

Young Dick Talbot

 

" es, that is true enough, only without in. '

you would have had her scratching, while I
could have got another man to answer my
purpose about as well as you have.”

“Bar-tin, colonel I ain’t a-saying anything
ag’in’ that ” the hotel-kee r admitted.

“ Now, want you to 0 me a favor, and you
are not willing."

“ Come, come, colonel! Ain’t you putting
it rather strong to say that?” ‘

“Not at all—it‘s the plain English of it, and i
I want your daugh- 
tor; the girl is foolish and headstrong like nine- '
tenths o the girls at her age. She as got to
be made to mmd—that’s all there is to it. You
want to ut your foot right down, say Colonel
Stoddar is the husband ’ve picked out for you
—you must get ready to be married next week
afidnthat would settle the matter for good and

I

a

“S'pose she cuts up rusty, and won’t listen
to reason!” old Richardson inquired, in a dubi-
ous sort'of way.

1 h
“ Lock her upkand keep her on bread and l 0

water until she willing to do as she is bid!” i
cried Stoddard an rily. “By Jove! sir, I tell
on what it is—if had a daughter inclined to
disobedient, I‘d make her come to time, or
I’d flog the life out of her just the same as if she
was a refractory mule." |

“N do it in a moment, of course,” the old
man observed. “ for I haven‘t got any more a-
tience with such a thing than you have; but be
old woman, her mother, you know, is dread- i
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
contain tnously.

“ We it ain’t quite so bad as that. The old
woman is on your side fast enough, but I doubt ;
whether she would a e to harsh measures, _
such as starving and o ging, you know. She ,‘
thinks we can persuade er. ’ l

“:Perhaps it might be done if we could afford
to wait a year or we for it, but i am not will-
ing to do that. I want the thing settled within :
a couple of weeks at the furthest—and, look.
yel R’tchardson, you must bring the girl to

s. ,

“ I will if I kin, but if so be as how she won’t
have it, what kin 1 dol” and there was a dog-
gedness in the way the old man put the ques-
tion that plainly betrayed he was annoyed.

" y the we. , Richardson, from what part
of) theflEast di you come?" asked the colonel,
a m y.

“ hfl from Illinoy,” and there was surprise
in theo man’s tone, as if he wondered why
the uestion was asked.

“ h, I thought you was from Montgomery,
Alabama.”

“ Never was thar in my life l” and now there
wa‘s eral alarm inttbe wine's}.J I

was in to u youn ewayo a nod
thing. as?“ sonpSmith, of Montgomery? ab-
acon ed from Montgomery about two years a
with some ten thousand dollars that he frau u-
lently fit his hands upon, came to Frisco, lost

sammwtzmsa ,

after him. I met the partyin Friscoon this
trip. They’re oflerln a reward of a thousand
for the caliture of t e man. He was accom-

nied in is flight by his wife and daughter.
f we could get our hands on him, old man, we
could make a strike.”

“ Yes; but we don’t want to bother ourselves
aboutnit. You can depend, I’ll fix the girl all
right.

 

CHAPTER XVIII.
warren AT LAST.

Tan two men, having arrived at an under-
standin , resumed their walk, and the involun-
tary lis ners heard no more of the converse-
tion.

After the colonel and the hotel-keeper got
away to a safe distance, the partners came from
their retreat in the bushes.

“By gosh! the colonel has got a rin ’1n the
old man‘s nose, hasn’t he?” the Yen ee 0b-,
served, as the pair proceeded toward the

tel.

“ It looks like it.”

“ I allers felt sure that Richardson was a
mean scamp. The idea of his levantinfi with
ten thousand dollars, and then gitting rl of it
gambling.” *

“ 11] got ill gone, you know.”

“ I so , f you settle Stoddard. you’ll be able
to wor the old man all right; for you’ll
havIe” jest as big a pull on him as the col-
one . .

“ Yes; and with such an old rascal, I should-
n’t hesitate to use the knowledge. Isn’t it stran g9
that such a. vile old wretch should have so beau-
tiful and good a child!”

Abner agreed that it was wonderful and after

‘ a few more words of unimportant conversation

thfipair entered the hoteL
a place was well filled with miners. drink—
ing, smoking, some playing cards and others
an aged in conversation.
he colonel and the old man stood leaning

against the bar and their eyes fell upon the
partners the moment the entered.

Stoddard had made 11 is mind to bring mat
ters to a head. He be resolved to pick a quar-
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
and! know you take an interest in in welfare
let me announce to you that an mportant .
event is about to occur in my life. I’m mg to
be married, fellow-citizens, and as it wi be the
first marriage that has ever taken place in .this
camp I intend to celebrate this ceremony in a
at Is that will make all of you open your eyes.
I ereby invite every man in the room to the
Wedding and I promise you that you shall have
aban -up time. You are all acquainted With
the bade. gentlemen it is the daughter of our
worthy friend here, kichardson,” and he patted
the 0] man on the shoulder. “ Now, ntle-
men I want every man in the room to ke a
drink at my expense and congratulate me upon
the ap reaching event." ~

The kee r hastened to set out the bottles

and lassoew fletheminersflocked nptothe A I.
partner-lama. ‘.

bar. etwo
' \

'- ,

 

 

 

 

 

30 V Young Dick Talbot.

 

The colonel‘had his eyes upon them, for this
invitation to drink was only a cunning deuce
on his to bring about a quarrel.

He felt rfectly sure that the two would de-
cline his test and so give him a chance to
brin on an altercation.

“’ o, ain’t you two going to h’ist in a little
poison at my expense and congratulate me
upon my afiproaching union?” he asked, com-
ing upto w ere the two stood quietly in the
background, a soowl upon his face. .

“ As far as I am concerned,1’m much obliged
to you for your invitation,’ Dick answered,

“ but I hope on 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, plan ting
himself squarel in front of the youth, and sur-
veyi‘laivg him wit an evil Eye.

‘ ell, now, really, I on’t know as that is
any of your business,” the youth replied,
bluntly. “I hav ’t made any objection that
I know of; and as faras my private thoughts
are concerned, those are my own property.”

“Oh, I sépose it’s rather rough to take our
girl away rom you, but such things will ap-

n. The idea. gentlemen, of this young whe p

aring to lift his eyes to such a girl as our friend
Richardson’s daughter. Bah! she wouldn’t
wipe her feet on you!” Stoddard cried, taunt-
ingly, while all in the room looked on :11 won—
der. for the anticipated that these rude words
would lead a uarrel.

“ on, she won dn'tl” exclaimed Talbot, ban-
teringl , but at the same time a wild, fierce
look s one in his eyes. “Well, whether she
would or not, I 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
marry anybody with that wife of yours in o-
bile, rom whom you have never obtained a di-
vows,” although you have been separated for
years

Stoddard grew white in the face, and then
dark with rage.

The shot was entire] unexpected, and struck
home. He clinched is palms together, and
glared fiercely at the youth. .

“ 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 colone could draw 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

on and innocent girl. You know you can’t
egal y marr her. and the ceremony will not
be wthin ut a fraud.” '

S was fearfully exasperated, and de-
termined, since words did not seeinto be of any
avail, toprnvoke thinning mtbattack him

 

by deeds, so that he would be enabled to get a
c ance to use his pistol, and so and the matter.

“You young cub of Hades! I’ll wring your
nose otfl’ he cried, springing u n Talbot.

It was his intention to prove e a blow, for he
felt sure the youth would resent the insult.

The result more than justified his expecta-
tions, for he received a stroke such as never had
fallen upon his person before.

With a single powerful blow, lanted squarely
between the eyes. Dick lifted he colonel from
his feet and hurled him backward as if he had
been shot.

Down went the colonel all in a beep and then
gasping for breath and half-blinded from the
eflect of the terrible blow, he staggered to his
feet drawing his revolver and coc ing it as he

rose.

And Talbot, dperceiving the motion, also drew
his weapon an raised the hammer.

The lookers~on scattered.

Some, who were near the door, rushed out
into the street, others vaulted through the win-
dows, taking glass, sash and all with them in
their eager haste, a few found rotection be-
hind the bar, over which they eaped in hot
eaggrness 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 up-
on the scene. '

Two men only held their places, the faithful
Yankee. who, reckless of danger. stood m-nr m

, catch Dick in case he should be hurt, and the old
‘ hotel-keeper 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:oddard, missed the mark for which
he aimed—the heart of his opponent; but the
terrible stroke he had received had damaged the
sight of both of his eyes and sorendered his aim
uncertain.

The bullet tore a hole through Talbot’s side,
inflicting a flesh wound, painful but 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 to kill.

It was either his life or the colonel’s, and in
self-defense he had slain his foe.

Stoddard stood erect for a moment after re-
ceiving the ball, his face like marble; be en-
deavored to raise the revolver for another shot,
forgetting that it was not cocked, then with a
slight gasp he fell forward on his face.

There was a moment’s pause, then, as the
fallen man did not stir, the lookers—on came
hurrying to his side.

They turned him over on his back.

He was stone dead, the ball had gone directly
through the heart.

“ He’s onel” exclaimed one of the miners.
who had een the first to examine the fallen
man.

“I call upon you all to witness. gentlemen,
that this

onth exclaim “and that from the be inning

‘the end I have acted strickiy inself efense.

 

rel was forced upon me!" the‘

 

'

 

 

 

 

" u—v
.

or we .

  

Yam Dick Talbot.

81

 

l'm sorry that I had to kill the man, but it
I hadn’t he would have ended me. It was
a square fight and 1 hope no man here will
say that I attempted to take any unfair advan<

ta e.”

5Yes. yes, a fair fight!” exclaimed half 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 be 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, Alabama, with
moneys not his own, and the hotel-keeper was
glad to shut up.

The camp really breathed freer after the
colonel’s death, all justified Dick’s actions, and
when a meeting was celled to choose a new
alcalde 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 aflairs.

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.

Reader, the story of a boy’s rough-and
tumble life from New York to California i
told, and so for the present we lay down ti

:1.

PeThe after adventures of daring Dick Tell)
in the golden land from the time he became t:
alcalde of Frenchman‘s Flat until he fl nred l
the side of the Reese River as Overlan Kit, \
may hereafter tell ,

THE END.

DIME DIALOGUES AND SPEAKERS

FOB SOHO 0L EXHIBITIONS
AND II ONE ENTER TA INMEN TS.

Dialogues, Nos. 1 msg inclusive, 15 to 25 lpopu-
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YOUNG PEOPLE’S SERIES.
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Ann Y.

 

 

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164 The Boy Chief; or, Frank Bell‘u Compact. By Oll
Comma.

165 The Trailer Traitor. By J. Stanley Handenon.

168 Old Jupe’a Clew. By Mn. Orrin Jame;

167 The Young Trailer. By W. J. Hamilton.

168 The Specter Spy. By Maj. Lawia W. Canon.

169 Lnnk Lute, the Old Colorado Humor. By E. W.
Archer.

ITO The White Wolf. By Edward Wiliett.

1‘11 The Swamp Guide. By W. N. McNeil.

172 The Yankee Peddler. By C. Dunning Clarlr.

1?B  fisout and "la Young Churn. By Warnn

. O .

1‘34 Blacksmith Tom’a Mask. By Geo. D. Gilbert.
115 The Buckskin Rider. By Guy Greenwood.

1T6 The Squattcr’a Surprise. By Mn. H. .1. Thom".
177 Four Fellow Si-outa. By J. Stanley Hendmon.

1?“ 0” Kit and Illa Comradea. B ' Jon. E. Ba ,
Boldly September lli. ’ ax", JP

179 Uncle Griil’a Diagulae.
Ready September 17.

180 The Marked Miner.
Randy September 24.

181 The Wild lluntreal.
Ready October 1.

182 The DwarfDeeoy.’ By Mm 0. Rollo.
Ready Octofwr 8.

188 Job Dean’a Tnetlea. By Ingoldaby North.
Ready October 15.

By Harry Hazard.
By Liout. Col. Hauitino.

By Capt. Bruin Adana.

Bendie’a Boy’a Library in for uio by all Nona-aim,
five cent: per copy, or lent by mail on rocoipt ofIix uni: ouch.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publisher-a,
98 William Street. N ew York.