Beadle's Dime Novels No. 316: Hurricane Bill — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

—_ CARMELA REMEMBERS. 65 “You wrong me, lady—but you will do me justice when you are calmer, You will see then that Iam your true friend —-your only friend. now,” quietly added Black Garcia. ‘But come—there is danger in remaining here. Tie Apa- ches are ¢lose upon our trail, We must ride herd if we would escape capiure—and you can guess what that would be to you.” Carmela no longer resisted. The words of the man who called hinself her friend, hinted that ber father, brother and sister had been killed. At that moment she could think of nothing else. And she offered no resistance when Black Garcia lifted her before him and rode off through the night. Had he been content to let well enough alone, it is possi- ble that Carmela might have believed all, and be would have had no trouble with her until his retreat Was gained. But Black Garcia really loved her—as truly as a brute like him could love—with a blind, unreasoning passion ; and he wished to remove the memory of his disgrace, if possible, And so he told ber of the marvelous deeds he had per formed, of the many Apaches who had fallen bencath his prowcss as he charged them single-handed to rescue her from their ruthless gresp. But he overdid the matter. The maiden’s mind was busy. She began to recollect some of the past events, and then, like a revelation of light, the truth flashed upon her. “ You are speaking falsely—you did not save me—’twas he—the noble American—e saved my life—not you!” sud- denly exclaimed Carmela, raising her head. Black Garcia was taken all aback. He attempted to stam- mer a denial, but she quickly interrupted him. “ Stop—do not stain your soul with more lies. You bade me remember—I do. I remember that he suved me, when ‘the knife of a terrible Indian was at my heart. [ remember that he took me to the corral, and placed me in safety. I remember that you came—thal you carricd me away ©v borse- back. And I believe that you spoke falsely when you made me think that my friends were all murdered {” “These sre hard worcs,” began the mountain outlaw. ‘But true—t feel that they are true !” | “ Well, supposing they are true—what then?” angrily. ‘“ Your are here in my power—I can do whatever I >> conicloooks.com