The Argosy, January 1907 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

194 At Billy’s request I gave the tele- scope back to him. The horseman was now in the middle of the valley, direct- ly opposite us. I could see him well enough even without the glass. “Why, there’s somebody else!” Billy exclaimed suddenly. “Where?” I asked, astonished. I had scanned the whole stretch of the trail and had seen only the solitary figure. ‘“ Not in the road,” was my brother's answer. “He has just ridden out of the woods on the other side of the trail. He’s behind uncle. And he hasn’t gone into the road—he’s riding alongside it, on the turf.” “"That’s curious,” I muttered. . thought [ could distinguish the moving form dimly against the shadows of the wood, but*I was not satisfied. “Let me look,” I urged. Billy yielded the telescope reluctantly. ‘“T don’t understand it,” he said per- plexedly. | raised the tube to my eyes, and al- most immediately I found the second horseman, who was now less than two hundred yards behind Uncle Charles, and riding at full speed. As I watched he gained perceptibly. ° In another minute he was hardly a hun- dred yards behind, still riding on the turf. There was something secret and sinister in the affair that filled me with an unreasoning dismay. As yet I had no suspicion of the dreadful truth. But a presentiment of dread fell on me. Then, all in an instant, the tragedy happened. The pursuer pulled his horse- abruptly to its haunches. Then, as the animal rested motionless, I saw a tiny jet of flame leap over its head. My glance jumped to the pursued. I saw him throw up his hands and fall from the saddle. | I gave a great cry, which caused Billy to gape at me amazedly. ‘Uncle Charles!” I gasped. Oh, my God!” [ thrust the telescope toward my brother, and turned my face. For the moment I dared not look down into the valley. A sharp exclamation of distress came from Billy. ‘* See! -~—- THE ARGOSY. “Why, ‘Uncle Charles has — been thrown,” he burst forth. ‘“ He’s lying all huddled up in the road. The man’s hurrying up to help him. Oh, he may be seriously hurt. We must go to him. It’s dreadful to stand here doing noth- ing while he’s suffering there.” “The other shot him!” I cried, turn- ing again to look down on the scene of crime. “Shot him in the back—coward and murderer!” “Shot him!” Billy’s face was like a sheet; the hands on the telescope trem- bled. “Yes, shot him! That’s the reason he kept on the turf—to deaden the sound of his horse’s hoofs, so uncle would have no warning. And we are powerless. Before we can get there, all will be over. Oh, was there ever such a ghastly situation? Our uncle shot down before our eyes, and we have to stand by helpless and permit the in- famy!” “ That—that mau now, Billy reported. over uncle.” I could make out dimly that this was so. “Has uncle is off his horse ‘ Hfe’s stooping I asked. moved?” My voice was low, for a great fear was on me. Billy’s voice was broken as he an- swered : ce No.” We stood side by side, staring down at the dreadful spectacle in an agony of despair and rage. “He is robbing him now,” I mut- tered. ~ Yes, that is it,” Billy agreed. ‘Uncle Charles didn’t have an enemy in the world. The man must have guessed he had money, and so shot him in the back, that he might take it with- out danger.” “José!” I cried. ‘ Yes, yes, it must be Jose! He comes at his victims from behind. It is José.” ‘You're right—it must be José. He’s big, this man. He’s standing up now. He’s very large.” “Then it must ‘‘May Heaven = “Come, let us go,” Billy cried, in a sudden frenzy. ‘“ We must catch him —kill him—avenge ze be José,” I said. CO DOO EO!