Beadle's Half Dime Library — page 10: what you’re looking at

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10 mies? You have told me too much, young man, not to say more,” added Warren, suspiciously. _ “ Bah! How can you make me tell more than I wish to admit of my own free will? Do you think I fear death? Don’t try to ride over me, rough-shod, stranger, or you'll get hurt.’ sneered Campbell. ** We're losin’ time, boss,’ put in'Chris Camp, un- easily. ‘‘The wimmen may be in danger.” ““You are looking for two ladies—and a young man?” abruptly demanded Campbell of the emi- grant. “Yes—my daughter and niece. They were run away with—”’ “They are safe enough, old man, though they had a narrow escape. Wait—you can ask questions af- terward. I tell you they are safe enough. If you an- swer my questions freely, then Tl tell yousomething that may be of use to you. First, do you know any- thing of aman named Mat Mole; middle-sized, black hair, eyes and beard, hook-nose, rather good-look- ing, about forty years old?’ ‘No—I don’t reco e the description.” “You have asbrother in California, who wrote for you to come out there, to join him in business?” ““Yes, but how could you know this? I—” “T do know it—that’s enough. Listen now, and mark what I tell you. This Mole is your deadly enemy. He has followed you from Omaha, with a band of land-pirates. I acted as their guide, because I knew we would see something of the Blackfeet. We have driven you from the right trail, by false signs, which were read to you, as we intended, by a man Mole has in your camp. To-day Mole was joined by a band of Blackfeet; that’s why I have de- serted him. To-night they mean to attack you, You will find all your spare ammunition destroyed. That is to be the work of Mole’s man, your false guide, who calls himself—”’ ‘‘Hasy thar, old man—you*re wuss’n a rattler, fer he shakes his tail afore he strikes!” yelled Yellow- stone Jack, and a man was hurled headlong at the young scout’s feet, a long knife flying before the quivering form. “ Brindle—Hoosier—close 8 He saved our ba- con—ef these chaps mean to bounce ‘im, they must take us fust! Sock it to °em!” added Jack, spring- ing before Campbell, with drawn weapons, promptly backed up by his comrades, The emigrants started back and drew their wea- ons. Fora moment there seemed a fair prospect or another duel to the death, only between those of the same color. “What do you mean?” demanded Warren, of Jack, “What ’d he mean, by tryin’ to stick the young fellow here? Trom behind, too—the pizen snake |’’ ‘‘Tt’s true,’? observed Russel. ‘TI sawit all.” “Wait,” uttered Campbell. ‘‘This man must be the guide I spoke of. one other could have any motive for stopping my tongue. If so, his name is Chris Camp.”’ That is his name; but he came to us well recom- mended.”’ “‘ Exactly so—from Mole, who signed himself Cap- tain Luke Harding, U. 8. A.,’? sneered the young scout. ‘ But there—I have warned you; heed it or not, as you please. You will find your friends either on their way to your wagons, or at the head of the upper pass. I left them there two hours since, Yar horses and wagon, though, are af the bottom of Chetish canon.” “You will lead us there? I will pay you—” “JT work for revenge, not pay. These hunters can ts de you. Good-by, now,” and Campbell strode rap- away. “ For little ’'d stop him,’’ muttered Warren, doubt- ingly. ““T don’t half like his story.” “You must wall over me an’ my pards, then, boss,’’ quietly returned Jack. ‘‘He saved our ha'r, an’ dich nev fa'r play, ef it costs a lawsuit. I reckon you’d better look to that snake yender. I hit him chug, but his head’s harder ’n a nigger’s,”” is Camp had partially recovered from the heavy blow dealt by Yellowstone Jack’s iron fist, and hur- riedly secured the knife that had fallen from his grasp. It was this movement that drew forth the | ae exclamation, arren seemed in doubt what do to. The words of the stranger, added to the scout’s attempt upon his life, had made some impression upon his mind, yet the de had played his part so well as to gain the good opinion of nearly all the emigrants. It did not seem possible that he could be such a double-dis- tilled traitor to the men whose bread he ate. “Who was *t hit me?” growled Camp, glarin phere a upon the little party, an evil light in his blood. shot eyes, “You needn’t look no furder ’n me,” promptly re- plied Yellowstone. ‘I hit ye—jest as I would ary other snake as I see’d crawlin’ up ahind a man to strike ‘im unbeknown, like, Ef a feller wants to be so pizen mean, he ain’t wuth bein’ treated like a hu- man critter.’” “ Better pray ‘at the fancy don't cost ye too dear, young feller,”’ grinned Chris Camp, with a sickly smile. ‘‘I don’t gen’ally fergit a low very soon. Mebbe I’m slower ’n some, but I al’ays pays my debts—I do, so /” “T lent ye the lick out 0’ pure love, old pizenness. I'd do a heap fer ye, I’ve taken sech a fancy fer yer in- nercent-lookin’ mug; I hev, 60. But yit, I'm ’com- modatin’ to fritnds. ’F you think you owe me any- thin’, now's y’ur chaince to settle. Rifle, peeps, or butcher—a-critter-back or afoot, white man’s style or Injun fashion—jest say the word, and Yellow- stone Jack’ll do the best he knows to make it inter- estin’ fer ye,” " “Not now; Isaid I kin wait. You look like you was a man. I'd like to do ye as nigh a Sg kin. Wouldn’t ’sult ye by fightin’ ye at e-cock— “yom the settlements—then who are these ene- | Beadle’s Half-Dime Library so to speak. You lent me a mule-kick. My head’s ore og my han’ tremb’les, an’ I don’t reckon I could fetch out your hull style as I'd wish. Onless you’re pressin’, we'll wait a bit—say ontel mornin’,”’ drawled Chris Camp. ‘Right you air! One thing fust—I fergot you’d promeesed old Gopher—Groundhog—whatever's the varmint’s name—to spile these fellers’ powder,” ec. we the trap er. “Some folks ’d say a man was a durned fool to o an’ drive the nails in his own coffin—but you ont *pear to think so, Yellowstone Jack,’ and the Sees smiled again—a peculiar, sickly smile that oded danger. “Come,” impatiently interrupted Warren, ‘‘you ean settle this quarrel some other time—or now, if you wish, but we can’t stop to see it. If there is any truth in what that man said, we have no time to lose here. He said you men would know the way to this el pass. Is there any nearer way than by cong ong this pass, then up the other?” “Not fer hosses. I'll show ye the way, ef so be you'll wait ae eg a fer us to plant poor Heely ‘Hank hyar, whar the reds won’t stum'le over his top-kno :- ‘Make haste, then. I'll ride on to the train and see if they have got back. If they have, I'll send word to you where the canyon divides,”’ arren rode rapidly away, and the emigrants busied themselves in looking after their dead and wounded. Three had been killed—making four with Gila Hank, the big ee They were all single men, since Minnie and Ada were the only women accom- paying the train, and so it was deemed best to ury them where they had fallen, rather than to carry them to the wagons. “Tt’s rough lines on us, boys,’’ said Yellowstone Jack, sadly, as they composed the limbs of the dead trapper in a deep cleft in the rocks. ‘‘Two boys rubbed out in one day—hafe of our party in a week. *Pears like this was goin’ to be a costly trip fer us.” “Hank went under like a true mountain man, jest as he’d wished fer this many a year. He made his coup faust, I don’t reckon the varmints ‘ll hey much to brag on, when all’s counted, But thar was Chavez —he didn’t die right. I'm dub’ous his sperrit ‘I ha'nt us,” muttered Brindle Joe. “Not ef 7 kin help it. To-morrer I'll take the trail —Tll try that witch—spook—whatever the critter is —an’ see ef I cain’t rest pore Mexy. Ef I kin borrer a silver dollar, to run up, I'll be all right,’ said Yel- lowstone, thoughtfully. ‘“Goin’ to jine in wi’ these fellers? Hf what that feller—the Blood-Drinker—said is true, I reckon thar’s goin’ to be the tallest kind o’ fun round hyar *fore long.”’ ‘‘ Wf they needs it, Hoosier, mebbe we'll lend ’em a hand—but not inside their durned corral. I fights free, Z does,”’ me ar’s that pizen snake—the critter you hit, Jack,” demanded Brindle Joe. ‘I don't see him—”’ ‘“Yender he goes—give me—too late! He’s under liver. So much fer bein’ a durned fool! Hf I’d hed my way, he’d ’a’ croaked ‘fore this. Wal, they’ll hev one more to fight, that’s all,” disgustedly cried Yel- lowstone, as he saw the form of the traitor guide vanish among the rocks. Chris Camp had indeed ie away while the men were busy with their dead. Pursuit was idle, considering the route he had chosen, and the party at once entered the pass, At the division they met Warren, who spurred up, pale and breathless. Nothing had been seen or heard of the women, and dreading the worst, the party rode on through the upper pass. ey saw blood-marks, traces of what might have been a death-struggle, but nothing more, Warren groaned with agony, and nearly fell from his animal. ‘Don’t take on so, boss,” said Yellowstone, sooth- ingly. ‘‘Mebbe they’re all right yit, an’ hyar’s me an’ my mates is ready to take the trail—or ruther to hunt for the one we've lost—an’ ef they’re above airth, we'll find ’em. Meantime you'd better go look to the wagons, for you’ll smell burnt powder afore mornin’, sure. Corral them by the spring, under the light ag’in.”’ ‘‘T'll pay you—I have money—”’ ‘Wait ontel we do the lind stay; ef you hev a al dollar—thanks ! ow go—the sun’s most own.” Warren finally yielded, and rode back to the wagons, CHAPTER XI. SCOUTING AND FIGHTING. ‘‘T RECKON I'm up a stump, fer once,’ grunted Brindle Joe, disgustedly rubbing his head. ‘A owl couldn't foller a trail now, even a’ter ‘twas found, which this ’ne ain’t, by a pesky sight!” OF’ these gal critters ’d on’y wore shoes like the hosses—but thar ain’t enough on ’em to make a trail on fresh snow. I reckon we're played, boys,’ com- mented Yellowstone Jack. “T've got a idee, mebbe ’tain’t wuth much; I don’t let on to be much a’count, onless it is on a trail, But I don’t reckon thar’s anythin’ else we kin do, sence the varmints ain’t a-goin’ to trouble the train fer some hours yit, anyhow? What sa , boys?” “Reckon you'd better let us see this idee, fust: then mebbe we kin tell better,” dryly observed Hoosier. “Was thinkin’—but thar. You heerd what that feller said—him as called hisself the Blood-Drinker. Yuu kin tell es well es me whether he was lyin’ or no. You kin see, too, that somethin’ has gone over the ridge o’ the kenyon hyar. only the hoss-critters—~mebbe the gal-critters rocks, an’ keep good watch, ef you want to see day- | Mebbe it’s | was in the wagon. Thar’s on’y one way to settle that—by takin’ a look where the outfit stopped. It’s too dark now to look further fer a trail on these rocks. We kin go up the kenyon to a point whar we kin git down it, take a look at what thar is blow hyar, an’ git back in plenty time to take a hand in whatever fun thar'll be goin’ on at the train yender.”’ “Sound hoss sense, an’ well put, Brindle Joe,” cried Yellowstone, ‘I reckon I know the right trail; come on.”’ Indeed, there seemed nothing else that could pos- sibly be accomplished that night. For over an hour p the three trappers had been closely searching she ground in the vicinity of the upper pass, without success. The flinty wet sod retained no footprints. The perilous trail followed by the fugitives had been overlooked, for the trappers could not know that a Blackfoot chief had been guiding them, and there seemed scarce footing for a cat below the escarp- ment. They begaa. to doubt the truth of what Campbell had told them—to believe that the depths of the canon contained the corpses of those they sought. Yellowstone Jack led the way, proceeding rapidly, for a considerable detour mustbe made before they could reach a point where a descent into the canon was possible. And, despite the mere losses they had sustained, not one of the trio but was anxious to take part in the anticipated conflict at the corraled wagons. Somebody burnin’ powder,” suddenly uttered Yel- lowstone. The report of a rifle rung out upon the evening air, its reverberation ibis | a thousand echoes among the hills, until one could fancy the skirmish- ing line of an entire — at its deadly work, The trappers tried to settle the point from whence the shot tag 2 but in vain. The thousand echoes completely bewildered them, and a few moments later they resumed their course. It was this shot that hurled Frank Maynard down the canon, For nearly an hour the trappers pressed on, with- out further interruption, but then Yellowstone et guickly aside, crouching behind a bowlder, ssing: ‘ Cache, boys, there’s a varmint just ahead!” “Hasy, friends,”’ isa bee replied a clear, not un- musical voice, from the gloom beyond. ‘ There’s no quarrel between us, that T know of,” 3 ies: air you, then?’ demanded Yellowstone “A friend to all those who are not in league with the accursed Blackfeet. You saw me to-day when your comrade was rubbed out,” “The feller what called hisself the Blood-Drinker —but don’t trust him Yoo fur,” muttered Brindle Joe. ‘OF you're alone, step out. Ireckon we've got a crow to pick wi’ you,’”’ added Yellowstone, uncock- ing his rifle. “Tam, alone, but I'm not afraid to trust you, I seb you down for true men, to-day, and I'm not often deceived in a man,”’ quietly said Campbell, ad- ee Pots ‘ “To is sometimes peskily bad fooled. You don’t look like your tongue was crooked, yit you put * = a false trail to-day,” dryly replied Yellowstone ack. “There is some mistake here—” “Jest what 7 thort—a blamed big one, too. you say you left them gal-critters all safe? whar be they? They ain’t vara gm ay “Ttold you the truth. I saved them from being dashed into the canon, by shooti one of their horses. They were all right whom Tite them. Be- sides, I warned them of the presence of enemies, It may be that they have been captured. These hills are swarming with their enemies, both pale-faces and Blackfeet,” ‘Look here—you say you've quit these fellers!”” ‘‘Yes—they have banded with my deadly enemies, the Blackfeet. For ten years past if have never miss- ed an opportunity of tal a Blackfoot’s scalp; is it likely, then, that I would fight with and for them, now?” “Will you lend us a hand, then?” bluntly asked Yellowstone. r ‘“In what way?” ‘“We was goin’ to take a look in the kenyon—” “That would be a waste of time. Those you seek are not there. If they have not reached their friends then some of Mole’s men, or some of the Blackfee have captured them. I will do better. I will show you their camp.” “JT don’t know much about ye, stranger. You talk slick Spee ae an’ I'd hate to think o’ you as a traitor. But thar’ be three fellers nigh to ye, who’re tol’able quick on the trigger, an’ who kin hit the bigness of a man when {t’s cluss enough,” slowly uttered the aii Se ‘“Nor am I used to such threats. I don ask you to trust me, You need not accept my offer ess you choose,”’ coldly replied Campbell. “FR you mean right, thar’s no ‘fense intended. What say, boys? Shall we go wi’ him?” “You n tar Both sae et ta that a-way,'’ prom replie e Joe, and Hoosier in- tenatad a sfacdllae- belief, : e “Come, then; the trail is a roundabout one and the coyotes will soon be creeping up to surround ‘their prey, tersely added Campbell, leading the way, at a rapid pace, hough the sun had set clear, the heavens were rapidly becoming overcast, and the full moon only shone forth at rare intervals, Vernon Campbell led the way with acelerity and promptness that told how well he knew the country, and even the well trained trappers were forced to admire his noiseless progress. Didn’t Then whar you said, nor at the S Comicloo CO