Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 104 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

ful liar. - now—not for you that will never fail in its bi ered himself joint lord and master of the situ- ation with Mrs, Howell. The mother and daughter were seated near a marble center-table as he entered, engaged over a late luncheon and a bottle of wine—some of the rare old vintage the major had imported from the east for hisown express use. <A strong lip for spiritual consolation these new heirs, and they meant to improve the time ere their sway of the scepter should cease. They sprung to their feet, however, when they beheld Jacques Frouch smiling at them, from near the doorway. ** You here?” the actress cried, coldly. “I thought and hoped you were dead.” ‘‘And consequently you were badly deceived,” Frouch repli ‘* Mistakes will happen, you know. And now that I am returned, no doubt you are overjoyed to see me?” ' ‘*]T must confess thatIamnot. You are noth- ing to me!” ‘ Curse you!” the Frenchman gasped, his swart face growing blacker; ‘‘is this the game ou are trying to play with me? If so, you'll find it won’t work worth a continental cent. You promised to marry me if I would poison Deadwood Dick’s ward, and now you must keep your promise. You can’t play none of your games on me.” ** But you have yet to keep your part of the contract, ’ Miss Fanny said, craftily. **No! by Heaven the girl is dead—was dy- ing in horrible agony, when I left the Ren- dezvous.” “Good! Iam thenrid of one obstacle standin between me and Deadwood Dick, and now shall rid myself of another!” And as she spoke the actress drew a cocked revolver from her bosom, and quickly leveled it at the heart of Wild Jack. “Now you git, or Dll make a arid out of youin quicker time than you can wi ‘* Blast you! what do you mean, girl?’ ‘*T mean, that if you bother me any more, T'll make a candidate for a coffin, ~~ as you did Deadwood Dick’s ward. Go! clear out! I want no more to do with you. If you ever come here a I'll shoot Phi. on the spot!” “You will never live to do that, my beauti- Ze devil will take your soul and burn it in ze sulphur pit, and zat will be ample re- venge for ze wrong you have doneme. I go because I fear you, but to aye ap ha!” And turning, the Frenchman laughing de- moniacally, left the room, and, as the wo- men sup , the house, as they presently heard a door slam. But not yet did the villain quit the house, Skulking along through the rear hallway, he at last gained that region of domestic bliss known as the kitchen. It was unoccupied, and he had things all to uimself, Entering the pantry, he took from his pocket a 1 bottle, and poured a few drops of it over bread, meat, and such other provisions as were standing around upon the shelves. ‘‘ The same that is good for the victim is good for the plotter,” he said, with a devilish chuckle, ‘Tf they appease their appetites, you Jacques Frouch will have ze revenge you thirst for. Now, for to get out of ze town, before ze au- thorities want me. Ha! ha!” Hurrying stealthily from the house, he sought a livery and sale stables in State street, and there purchased, cheap for ready cash, a fine saddle-horse. It was dark when he left Leadville’s twinkling lights behind, but striking into the well-beaten trail leading to Fairplay, he galloped off ata leisurely gait. Not afraid was he of the dark- ness, for it co nded with the hue of his nature, and then, he had once belonged to an outlaw “gang, whose depredations were chiefly committed under the cover of darkness, es was but a few miles from the carbon city of Leadville, and was peopled by even a rougher class of people, among whom, the Frenchman believed he might find protection, should he be pursued. The road to the objective mining camp was part of the way along bluffs, and then again it emerged into deep, silent bodies of pine pe where nature’s sounds were seldom dis- urbed. The timber was so black and grim in appear- ance, that Jacques Frouch looked around him sharply as he rode into it, the thought of road- robbers coming into his head. It was oe such a location as they might choose, and he quickened the gait of his horse, nervously, Deadwood Dick’s Device, cn ee ei ee Not really frightened did he grow, until he heard hoof-strokes ringing behind him, and be- fore him, and it dawned upon his mind that he was being hedged in. Whether by road-agents or by servants of the law he was unable to con- clude, but he saw the advisability of reining in his horse and dismounting, under the pretense of examining a shoe sssng Pt horse’s foot. This he did in hopes that he would escape particular notice. But, he was destined to disappointment, for, up from the east galloped a single horseman, clad in black, masked, and armed to the teeth— up from the west came a dozen men to match, and all halted but a few feet from Frouch, who was in secret trembling with terror from top to toe With the single nocturnal rider the band seemed to exchange signals; then the single horseman rode closer to Jacques Frouch, a cock- ed revolver in his right hand. “Jacques Frouch!” a stern, cold voice said, ‘‘you area doomed man. I have trailed you down to the spot whereon you die. If you would make peace with your God and Maker, I give you five minutes to dosoin. Then, youshall be mnched—the fate of nearly every murderer in this wild region. Death will be too good for you, hellish monster that you are, and death you shall suffer as you have caused others to suffer!” The French assassin dropped upon his knees, and began to beg piteously. He recognized the voice of the speaker as that of Deadwood Dick, and knew that he stood a slim chance of living when once trailed down by the noted Prince of the Road—a man who returned blow for each blow struck him by his foes. ‘Who are yout—for God’s sake spare me,” Frouch cried, in a supplicating tone. ‘*No, Pl not spare you, for Deadwood Dick never spares a man who wro him as you have. ou shall die, and you have four min- utes left to pray in!” ‘*Spare me! I beg! I beg! Til not do any- thing of the kind again!” the craven cried, in a sniveling tone. ‘*No, [ll warrant you won’t!” Deadwood Dick replied. ‘‘ Ha! who’d think you were the brave hero of drama at the Coliseum, to see you here upon your knees? Come, boys, get the rope ready |” he road-agents—who were a body of Dick’s main band who had been absent from the Ren- dezvous for several papecce veyed with mecry and @ noose was soon dangling over a limb, with the pulling end of the rope in the hands of a half dozen strong knights. Seeing that there was not the shadow of a hope for him, Jacques Frouch began to cry piteously, then curse, between bredthe: Nor did he stop, until he was lifted bodily from the ground, his head inserted through the noose, and he was swung off into eternity. The sign of the Double Cross was then stamp- ed upon his forehead, after which there was a consultation between Deadwood Dick and his men, a they mounted and rode off in different i ons, Straight toward Leadville the chief went, an ugly expression about his mouth, and a deadly ee in his eyes. Before entering the town, e dismoun and left his horse in a thicket of maples, while he alsoassumed a disguise, con- sisting of a change of clothing, and a wig and false beard. When he had completed his dis , he left the thicket, and boldly entered the town. Everywhere was excitement. News had got abroad of the murder by poi- soning, of two females, in the mansion of i Howell—also it was reported that the major was missing, together with his wife and two daughters. ge was there everywhere. But, when, with the crowd, Deadwood Dick entered the mansion to view the dead, he saw two bloated, distorted corpses, and one of them belonged to the variety actress, Fanny Farron. Fate had overtaken her in the end. At the camp, shortly after Deadwood Dick’s eparture d , hostile preparations were observed by Avalanche among the Regulators on the ge of the Tract for a battle. Bonfires were built in four places—east, west, north and south from the Rendezvous, and men could be seen flitting around them. “‘Great domestica'ed ham-bone thet war a war-hoss ter old Joner!” the Great Annihilator exclaimed, calling the attention of Calamity Jane to the fact. — ‘** Lookee thar, will ye! Old Moses uv ther bullrushes, don’t thet luk as ef we war goin’ 15 ter hev sum fun? Kerwhoop! sound ther din- ner-gong—peel forth yer hoss-anners, for we’re goin’ ter hev er scrimmage—a genywine ran- tankerous old scrimmage—a cavortin’ old battle arfter ther anshent wy e.” ‘* Royal planets uv Jupiter an’ Satan! whar’s ther fight? Show unter me ther smell o’ fight, an’ let me inhale ther delicious odor—me ther Pet Elephant o’ ther Leadville trail—ther Apollo o’ ther Colorados, Beautiful William!” roared the giant, prancing up. ‘‘ Ready ar’ I fer san- guinary strife, frum head ter heels, frum tooth r toe-nails—an’ thar’s ng a ronda, the t ‘cept one as durst breath r word when my noble presence looms nobly on and an’ thet galootorius b cacy he be Desitwood Dick. es, sar, Deadwood Dick—jest jot thet cognomen in yer bank-book, Deadwood Dick et war who licked me, my pilgrims—licked me as I never war licked since my old mammy used ter whale me over ther pate wi’ the par- ental bootjack. Licked me slick an’ clean, did Deadw Dick, ontil I warn’t wuth a stale cud o’ terbaccy. <An’lI ain’t afeard ter own ther corn, but I do say thar’s nary another pilgrim as kin do ther same leetle job.” **Don’t believe thar is,” Avalanche replied, “but, my dear sweet William, ef ye war avoir- dupoised several hundred pounds less, an’ I war as young in yeers as ye be, I opine, right hayr, thet I ked slap ye onter yer back so quick as eo sunk one 0’ his fangs inter fresh cheese.” ‘* Here! no quarreling, now. Get your weap- ons, and prepare for a fight!” Calamity com- manded. ‘‘ Here come the hellions, now!” It was evenso. From out the dead pines the Regulators swarmed, and rushed toward the Rendezvous. Volley after volley the road-agents pours into them; then Calamity led them bold- y out into the night, for their only salvation seemed in cutting their way through to death Foe met foe in a wild bloody affray of dea and then— : Deadwood Dick received a letter through the Leadville post-office the next day, and it proved to be from Calamity Jane, written in a neat feminine hand. It ran as follows: “The battle is over and as you probably know, we had to puekachee because of res numbers of the enemy. We fit our way out, without losing a man, and foremost in the battle were the Annihila- tor and Beautiful Bill. They were the heroes of the fight, together with Prudence Cordelia and Florence, the goat. Major Howell and his son, Alf, fell in the first e, and I think were killed. We are in the mountains, at your old stronghold, where you may easily find us, y yours, “* CALAMITY JANE,” Right here it is proper to end this romance, and therefore we write Exeunt Omnes. 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