Puck — December 10, 1879 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

654 PUCK. “That was a cu-ri-ous bet, warn’t it, about that tree?” Wa-al yes, it wern; but I'm darned if I should a lost it. An’ I couldn’t, nayther, if it hadn't been for that fren’.o’ yourn, the Jineral. It ain’t no more a tree than a milestone is, an’ I felt, juss at the time, pretty con-sid-erably riled, I did. Hev another drink ?” “No more; thankee all the same. An’ where now may that tree be? I'm sort o' curious to know.” So Grizzly explained to him exactly where it was, and shortly after the Colonel, with a good-night to the “ boys,” and a “ Chalk them drinks up to me, Tommy,” to the Boss, took his departure, No sooner had he left than mine host went up-stairs to Archie’s room, and within half an hour our hero had set out on his return to Sil- ver City, ‘But he did of return by the way he had come, He took the roundabout wagon- road that passed through Ugly Creek instead of Hell's Glen Station, * * Two days later, wearied and footsore, but comparatively light of heart, Archie re-entered Silver City. It was Xmas eve. How different from the one he had spent last amid the snowy chestnuts and hedges of Merry England! The night was dark, but the principal thoroughfares were one blaze of light, and bitter cold though it was the streets were crowded with the same ild, eager, jostling crowds, and gaily equipped heir bells jingling clear and merrily in the crisp night air, and luxuriously ‘appointed equipages of all kinds whirled past. ‘As he threaded his way through the hurrying crowds and turned down Chestnut Street—a short, narrow, dark lane, at the end of which stood his hotel—Archie’s thoughts went back to his father and Scotland—most of all to Skye, and. “Hands up, friend!” a sharp, quick peremp- tory voice exclaimed in tones of unmistakeable demand, as a tall man, with slouched hat that half hid his face, suddenly, as if shot from the earth, stood in front of the meditative traveller, and shoved something into his face which Archie had no difficulty in recognizing asa very large and ominous looking revolver. “Hands up, dar ye, or I'll let daylight through ye, by God, I will,” repeated the ruf- fian as Archie hesitated, not realizing the situa- tion all in a moment. “All right,” he said quietly after a moment, “take it easy; guess ye've come to the wrong shop if it’s loot ye want;” and then he raised his hands straight up above his head, and the highwayman proceeded to search him, which he did in the most business like and method- ical manner, albeit he had only the use of one hand. But if Archie had to all appearance taken things coolly he was by no means easy in mind, nor disposed without a strug- gle to see himself robbed of his hard won fortune. To resolve with him was to act. The robber had got the length of his waist and was tug- ging at the belt, which Archie for safety’s sake had wrapped around it. ‘The belt was hard to unfasten and the ruffian lost his temper over it as with many muttered oaths he wrenched and pulled. Now, if ever, was his victim's op- portunity. It was a dangerous chance, but it was his only one. If his assailant had had a confederate he could never have attempted it, but as it turned out afterwards the Colonel's greed—for it was none other than our gallant friend Ugly—had proved too much for his dis- cretion. He was in hopes of a big haul and wanted it all to himself. But we digress, Suddenly, like a thunderbolt, Archie's up- lifted right hand dropped like lightning on the revolver, while a second later his left went out straight as an arror into the ruffian’s face. ‘The revolver exploded, the ball lodging in Archie's side, and he staggered back a bit, seeing which the Colonel, with many a frightful imprecation, clutched him by the throat and closed with him, ‘Help, help!” shouted Archie, feeling him- self getting rapidly weak and faint. “ Damn you,” hissed his antagonist, take it then,” and’ he pulled the trigger again full in his face. Luckily it missed fire, otherwise Ar- chie Gascoyne’s life and this story would have ended then and there. Before theColonel could fire again his revolver was spinning through the air across the street, and he himself was sent staggering back against the wall, while Archie was lying senseless in the arms of a stranger, who, attracted by the noise, had interfered just in time to spoil the highwayman’s little game. * * * On recovering, Archie found himself safe in his hotel, and by his side a young man rather older than himself, tall, handsome and stal- wart, and unmistakeably a gentleman. Instinctively he knew that this young Her- cules was his savior, and with a smile he held out his hand, somewhat feebly. The other took it with a smile, saying: “ There now; don’t move or agitate yourself; you'll be right as a trivet in a day or two.” “A day or two,” murmured the wounded man, his heart sinking within him; “I must be in Bouldersville to-morrow.” “That is impossible,” replied his friend, “ but the calmer you keep the sooner you'll be there,” and from the broad sound of the ‘‘a” in calmer, Archie knew the speaker was a Scotchman, “You saved my life, didn’t you?” inquired the invalid, looking earnestly up into the other’s face. “Well, I tried to, anyhow, though, by Jove, you had a close shave of it.” “And your name?” “Ronald Campbell; but there, you posi- tively must of speak more.” “Ronald Campbell!” murmured Archie meditatively. ‘ ‘That name —your voice— your face—seem familiar, I must—but there—I don’t feel equal to the exertion yet. You have not asked my name yet.” Ronald nodded. “ Mine is Gascoyne—Archie Gascoyne; but —is anything wrong ?” “No—nothing,” replied the other confus- edly, “only I feel anxious about you, For God's sake keep casy and speak no more at present.” « Just one word more. Will you kindly wire to my father, Sir Alexander, Rio Grande Ho- tel, Bouldersville, that I shall be detained here for a day or two, but all is right ?” “Certainly, and now go to sleep.” And Archie, worn out, went to sleep mur- muring, ‘Ronald Campbell—Ronald Camp- bell.” - As for that gentleman, he was in a high state of excitement—one would have said joy. From a pocketbook which he had with him he took a small carte-de-visite, and going to the bed- side, compared it with the features of the wounded sleeper. Then he carefully put it back and smiled. “ By heavens, how strange! and to find him here and in this way. Thank God I have found him at last.” Then he went down-stairs to the office and dispatched the message, and then aston- ished the steward and the clerk by carrying them off almost bodily to the bar and insist- ing on their joining him in a bottle of Moet & Chandon, CHAPTER XXIX, «Saved by a miracle—Sir Tristam lived ‘The wondrous story of his death to tell.” — Wenster. Apart altogether from the saving of his life, Ronald Campbell proved a veritable minister- ing angel to our hero. Nothing could exceed his kindness and devotion. Had Archie been his own brother he could not have aursed him and tended him more assiduously and tenderly. Although on the night of the rencontre he had engaged apartments for himself, he literally lived in Archie's rooms, and by his bright, genial humor and high spirits contributed ma- terially towards his convalescence. It was the third day after the night of the at- tack, and the invalid had so far recovered as to be able to sit up. The two young men were seated, each on an easy chair, on either side the stove. Campbell had been adjusting Ar- chie’s cushions and making him generally com- fortable, when after a brief silence the latter said: “1 don’t know what I’d have done without you, Ronald "—he called him Ronald now— “I don’t know how I can ever repay you all your kindness.” Ronald held up his hand deprecatingly and would have spoken, but Archie went right on, “No disclaimers, old man. You have been nurse, doctor, valet, companion and amenuen- sis—as they say here, chief cook and bottle- washer—all rolled into one; have sat up with me now for three days and nights; have given up, doubtless, your own business and pleasures, your acquaintances and friends, to devote your- self to a a complete stranger.... And yet,” added Archie musingly, after a meditative pause, ‘ somehow I can’t help feeling as if we had known each other before—as if indeed we had been friends from boyhood, Your name —(now that Iam getting round I shall cer- tainly remember where I heard it before)—your face—your very voice—scem familiar. Strange, is it not?” “And why strange?” replied his friend with a quiet smile. ‘‘ Suppose we had met before?” “That is impossible; I could not have for- gotten, I never do forget.... Sometimes I wish I could.” “ There is nothing impossible. Let me illus- trate my meaning by a short story. It will be very short, I promise you; so don't be making up your mind fora nap. Years ago, away in the far North—let us say in Scotland—there lived a youthful Romeo and Juliet. They were hardly more than boy and girl, but they loved with all the passion of man and woman. Ro- meo was then at College, and Aer brother was his “chum.” Brother and sister were orphans, alone in the world, and her whole soul was wrapped up in him—whom for convenience sake we shall call Clark. He was not worthy of her love, but of that she was ignorant. So at the time, too, was Romeo. Unknown to the latter, Clark had been secretly going to the bad; had taken to evil ways—drinking, gam- bling and worse. At last he committed forgery ; forged the name of his friend’s father to a check, and so cunningly that suspicion inevita- bly fell upon his friend. As I have said, the sister's whole soul was bound up in her bro- ther, of whose evil life she had then no suspi- cion, I should also have told you that she was very delicate—so delicate that any sudden mental shock, so her physician said, would al- most certainly have proved fatal. Of this fact her lover was well assured, and, to save her life and peace of mind, he took her brother's guilt and shame upon himself, and fled the country. His family and friends disowned him; his father forbade any mention of his name; and after a time his very name almost became forgotten. But one sister, God bless her, stood fast by him; refusing to believe in his guilt; comicbooks.com