Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

ON THE TRAIL I suspect the young man felt a certain respect for me because of the way I had managed matters. ‘Jake, can you tell me anything about a friend of mine who visited this section some two months ago?” “Was he a newspaper man like your” “ Yes—but he didn’t resemble me in appearance unless it was in dress. He was short, stockily built, with very black eyes, hair, mustache and goatee.” ““I remember him,” replied Jake, compresssing his lips and nodding his head by way of emphasis. “His name was Montgomery.” ‘“ Dunno nothing ’bout his name, but I know him from the way you de- scribed him.” “Where is he now?” ‘““ Somewhere over on Rattlesnake Ridge.” | I looked sharply at Jake. “ What do you mean? ” “I was hiding in the woods one day, for I had catched sight of a gang that was too hefty for me. There was four of ’em, and one of ’em was the man you told me about.” ““ Were they on foot? ” “No; all was on horseback, and your friend was riding in the middle and he didn’t have no gun, which showed he was in the same fix as Zach Peters after you run agin him tonight.” ‘ Did you know his captors? ” “T reckon.” “Who were they?” “ There’s no use of my telling you two of their names, but the third was Zach Peters and it looked to me as if he was boss of the job.” “Do you know where they were going?” ‘To Rattlesnake Ridge.” “ Where’s that?” “ T’other side of the valley, bout six miles off. over yender.” Jake Auckland jerked his thumb toward the eastern point of the com- pass. I hesitated to ask the next ques- tion, but forced myself to do it. OF A MYSTERY. 27 “ What was their errand? What did they do with their prisoner? ”’ The young man shrugged his shoul- ders. “ Dunno; but I can make a tollyble guess.” * What is your guess? ” ‘Wal, then I guess they give him the witch's parole.” ‘The ‘ witch’s parole’! What the mischief do you mean by that?” Jake threw up his chin and laughed heartily. “T’m ’sprised at your ign’rance ; dad says the ‘ witch’s parole’ was some- thing they had in war times, and it’s purty much the same as ‘ losing ’ a pris- oner. S’pose now, when you got the drop onto Zach some hours ago, you should have ordered him to make a run for it, and, as soon as he started to run, you begun blazing away at him, taking the best aim you knowed how; do you foller me?” I nodded in the affirmative. “Wal, that would be giving Zach tne witch’s parole.” ‘What earthly chance has a man of escaping with his life? ” ‘Not much, I ‘low, specially when there’s three dead shots shooting at him.” ‘ Then,” said I with a sinking of the heart, “poor Dick Montgomery is dead.” “It looks much that way, but still there’s one chance in a million that he ain’t. Don’t forget that I ain’t sartin he got the witch’s parole.” “ Jake, did you never hear the partic- ulars of that murder?’ I asked indig- nantly. } “T never heard nothing; I seen the gang riding past with their man, and that’s all I really knowed.” “Tl pay you fifty dollars if you find out the whole truth and locate the grave in which Dick Montgomery was buried.” And then came the hideous reply : “It ain’t sartin that he ever was buried.” CONMUICLOOOKS «COM,