Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 1041 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

a, ———————- has broken loose again—Satan is out of the pit! Mean! Itmeaus trouble, war, blood!” The words of a madman, so thought they all. “ Are you sure that you read that right?” ex- citedly demanded the rancher. ‘*‘ Why, that note is addressed to me—it speaks of my daughter! And my daughter is here!” passing a strong arm around Nina’s waist and glaring around as if he half-expected a denial of the assertion. “ And my daughter is gone!” burst from Wel- land’s lips. ‘*They have taken ber from me, and I have only found her after all these long, long and weary years! Devils! fiends! [ will find her—I will tear ber from their bands! As there is a God, I will—” Chris Comstock’s hand fell on the excited pons arm, and the young cowboy spoke calm- Vv: ‘Do not jump at a conclusion so quickly, Mr. Welland, It is not yet settled your daugh- ter has been carried away. She may still be near at band.” ‘‘ But that paper—”’ ‘‘ We know not how it came here, Perhaps Miss Nina will be able to give us some light,” But the rancher’s daughter was unable to tell them anything further than that she bad found the room empty, the window open and the slip of perer on the dressing-case. t this instant the sound of excited voices came from below. ‘No, ye can’t go up thar now, Pete; you will hev ter stay down hyer with ther rest tell we fine out what’s ther matter.” ‘‘ But L jes’ am goin’ up dar! I knows suffin’ *s happened to lit’ Missy Nell—I jes’ knows it fo’ suah! S’pose l[’s goin’ to stay down heur waitin’ to fine out w’at it am? Well, I jes’ reckum not! If yo’ don’ le’ me pass, ’s gwine ter bus’ my banjer ober yo’ head, critter—yo’ heur me!” In some way the devoted darky succeeded in passing the cowboy on guard, for he soon ap- peared in the chamber. ‘‘ Whar am she?” he cried, ‘‘ whar am my lit’? missus? If any critter hab hurt her lll knock his eye out, shore’s l’s libbin’ an’ breafin’!” Fred Anthrop had seemed dazed, but he now caught up the light and hurried to the open window. Two feet beneath the window rana sloping roof, which explained how the kidnap- per had succeeded in carrying away his cap- tive. A bit of cloth fluttering from the head of a projecting nail caught bis eye. In an instant he had it in his fingers. It was a scrap of the very dress Nell had worn that evening! ‘Tt is hers, sure enough,” said Cowboy Chris at Fred's shoulder. ‘‘ That decides it!” Then he wheeled toward Cy Robinson—who still seemed like one dazed—crying: ‘‘ foul work, Mr. Robinson! There is not a moment to be wasted! The quicker we get to work, the greater our chance to success,” “What's to be done, boys?” ‘¢ Turn the entire company into a search-party and scour the neighborhood. If that fails, carry it still further and scour tbe country.” Within a few minutes every cowboy present was searching for the missing one, all being ander the charge of Round-up Rube and Cow- poy Chris. “ Tell °em ter look fer thet p’ison sarpint, Pablo Pajario!” said the foreman to Chris. “ Dll bet sathin’ ther cussid Greaser is at ther bottom o’ this yere piece o’ devilment!” Fred Anthrop beard these words, and asudden | conviction that Rube had struck the truth flash- ed over him, He instantly told his companions how the Mexican had tried to induce Nell to leave the house with him, ‘‘Thet duz settle it!” snarled the bow-legged cowboy, driving the clinched fist of his right hand into the horny palm of his left, thus making a report as loud as a pistol of small caliber, ‘ Ther skunk tried ter git her out ter work this very racket. He’s ther varmint ter look fer!” i you think he is Black Phenix?” asked ris. ‘Bf he hain’t, then he’s Black Phevix’s tool, an’ by layin’ claws on him, we may be able ter erip s master.” | o the word went round to look sharp for Pablo the Mexican. lt came to the ears of Orson Colfax, and the tenderfoot rancher came spluttering to Cy Robinson. “What ith thith, thir—what I heah?” he demanded, seeming highly indignant. ‘‘ The thay my foreman hath carried off thith girl. do not eve it, thir—I do not believe it! But if the wascal weally hath, 1 will punish him weal hard—I thurely will!” “Tf he is at the bottom of this, you are not liable to see him again,” came coldly from : Cowboy Chris to the Fore Robinson’s lips. ‘Iam inclined to think be is, and this is simply confirmation of my belief that none of the accursed whelps can be trusted.” Nell’s father and the faithful servant Pete seemed the most distracted by the blow. Fred Anthrop was strangely coo) and calm, but there was a fire in his eyes which told of the check he was keeping on himself. ‘This is dreadful, Fred!” exclaimed Chris, feelingly. ‘*I understand all that is consuming ou, for is not Nellie nearly as dear to me? She is the only girl lever truly loved, and I, will confess my passion is not dead, though I know it is vain, Lam still ready to give up my life for her, if necessary !” ‘‘ Tt is useless for me to attempt to express my feelings in mere words,” came with forced calm- ness from the young Easterner’s white lips. ‘But, one thing I will say: whoever or what- ever this Black Phenix is, no matter where he may have taken her, I will yet find her and gave her—I will yet find and destroy him /” ‘‘Good! I am with you, Fred, to the end, and bere is my hand on it! We are pards through thick and thin, sink or swim, live or die, and from this moment the Scourge of the San Juan is doomed!” Their hands met in a grasp that sealed the compact, CHAPTER IV, THE BLACK RAIDER'S DARING. NELLIE WELLAND was not found, The search for her was vain; she was indeed gone, Neither did the search for Pablo Pajario prove a success. Like the girl, the Mexican bad vanished, and it was not at all strange that the cowboys should associate the disappearance of one with that of the other. “Bf Le’u’d lay my han’s on ther cussid Greaser now,” growled Pandas Rube, ‘‘it’d be er right easy thing ter rekiver ther leetle gal, God bless her black eyes!” Pablo’s horse on which he had ridden to the ranch was gone. ‘‘Tts derned queer thar hain’t any other anni- mills gone too,” asserted the bow-legged cowboy. ‘“‘ Black Phenix hed er good time ter scoop ’em, an’ ther job w’u’dn’t ’a’ bin ary bit bolder then ther one he worked—no, ner so bold by er heap sight |” <The wretch chose an excellent night for his first stroke since returning to this section,” ob- served Cy Robinson. ‘' But it would seem that naturally he would strike at some of the other ranches, where there are only one or two cow- boys left behind to defend the places.” ‘‘ He may have struck at them as well,” “Good gwatbuth!” gasped Orson Colfax, who had overheard these words. ‘‘ I do hope the con- fwounded wascal will not trouble my pwoperty !” “Ten to one he does, if Pablo Pajario is the Black Phenix or one of bis tools. He may have worked himself into your employ for that very purpose. ‘Where ith my horthe!” equawked the thor- oughly alarmed rancber. ‘‘ Where are my men? L will sthart for home at onthe!” Suddenly from behind one of the out-buildings appeared a horse and rider, The animal was coal-black with a white star in its forehead, and the clothes and hood which the rider wore made him as black as his steed. Cries of astonishment came from the cowboys as they flashed their lights on the dark figures, which had come toa dead halt some distance away, the man gazing toward them through the oer of the black cloth which covered his ace. “Ther Black Phenix, ur I’m er liar!” shouted Round-up Rube. For a moment every one seemed paralyzed with astonishment at the daring of the cattle- lifter; then, uttering a savage imprecation, the bow-legged cowboy jerked outa revolver and covered the figure. “Han’s up, critter, or 1’ll-bore yel” The reply was a contemptuous laugh, but the black horseman Jifted his hands—lifted them with a revolver in each! ‘‘Compliments of the Black Phenix!” he cried, From either hand leaped spouts of red flame and the sharp crack-crack of his weapons drew yells of amazement from the cattlemen, two or three of the cowboys reeling back and sinking to the ground. Round-up Rube was untouched, and with a deliberation that was wonderful under the cir- cumstances, he fired shot after shot straight at the squarely-e breast of the Scourge. Still not a bullet seemed to take effect! ‘‘ Ha! ha! ha!” Again that contemptuous laugh, as, like a Ee | machine, the black horse of the raider wheele@ on its hind feet, its master bending low in the saddle, Click-click! The hammers of Rube’s revolver> fell on empty cartridges! An oath of dismay came from the old fellow’s lips, but the next instant he shouted: ‘Wake up, lads! Give him hot lead, ye sleepy-heads! Fire at ther hoss, fer I'll bet er steer ther man’s protected by some kind 0” armor! Fire at ther hoss! fire at ther hoss!” Half a dozen weapons spoke just as the daring outlaw disappeared behind the building; but if one of the flying bullets reached its mark, there was no sign. ‘¢ Hosses, pards, hosses!” bellowed the foreman of the Robinson Ranch, ‘‘ We'll foller ther crit- ter ter his hoel!” Then there was saddling and mounting in hot. haste, but even as they were about this, Old Rube said: ‘‘ Don’t more’n hafe o’ us want ter foller this critter: tother better stay hyer. This may be er trick ter lead us off an’ then finish up ther job jest begun. Hang ter ther ranch, Parad obinson, an’ look out fer yer own leetle gal!” Rodney Welland suddenly appeared, mounted on a large horse, and, with a wild shout that went ringing through the night, be dashed in pursuit of the daring outlaw. “This blow has driven him crazy again,” said’ Chris, as he aided Fred Anthrop in preparing a@ horse for the chase. ‘‘ Once more he is Rattlebrain, as he was when we first saw him,” ‘‘He bas my horse!” cried one of the guests. “Tf he cannot overtake the Black Phenix on that animal, the outlaw’s horse must be driven by steam, But it is doubtful if lever see Dandy Lightfoot again.” “Te you do not, I will make the loss good,” assured Cy Robinson, With Rube at their head, the cowboys swept away into the night, following Old Rattlebrain, whose wild cries could be plainly heard at regu- lar intervals. The bow-legged foreman felt the chase was folly itself, but what could they do? It was impossible to remain idle, and this seemed the only course open to them, “We shall not overtake the Scourge,” said Chris, in a tone just loud enough to reach the ears of the foreman, ‘‘' Think so?” ‘‘T do. Don’t you?” “Waal, I will ‘low ther chances are ginst it,” ‘‘ He can easily slip us in the darkness.” ‘‘T reckon you're right.” “T believe this is a trick to lead us away.” ‘* Mebbe so, mebbe so.” ‘And we have swallowed the bait.” ‘An’ still, ef it be er trick, it hain’t goin’ ter work jest as ther critter hoped, fer thar hain’t. only part o’ us arter him, ‘others are lookin’ arter ther ranch an’ corraled stock,” ‘Do you really believe Gablo Pajario is the Black Phenix?” ‘Waal, { saw ther critter’s hoss w’en he ar~ rived ter-nigbt.” ‘* What of that?” ‘Tt wuz black.” ‘ Ah-a!l With a white start?” “Thet’s jest wat I can’t say, fer I didn’t ’zamine ther critter clost.” “Still, it looks asif the Greaser is our meat?” **T low it duz.” “Did you ever hear the Black Phenix was & Mexican?” ‘‘1’ve heerd so menny yarns "bout ther crit- ter thet I never knew w’at ter believe, But, — one thing’s sart’in: he’s wussen ther Old One hisself, an’ now he is back inter these parts, thar won’t be ary bit o’ peace tell he is turned toes up ter ther daisies ur druv out. It’s war, Chris—war ter ther knife!” The cries of the crazed parent ahead could be plainly heard, still some of the men declared they were not so distinct as at first. ‘“Tke Thompson said bis boss wuz more then er match fer ther black critter o’ ther Scourge,” observed Rube. ‘Ef ther leetle gal’s daddy ketches ther raider, ther fur will fly, you bet! £ dunno whether be’s armed ur not, but ef he ever pits his han’s on Black Phenix, ther imp o’ Satan L git er through ticket.” : “Rodney Welland’s strength is something wonderful,” acknowledged Chris. ‘* He is more than a match for four common men.” “True as preachin’, boy!” Before long the di deranged were truly growin fainter. ‘Dern ther luck!” growled the bow-legged cowboy. eh Thet’s all we hev got ter keep us 0B ther trail. ‘‘ What fools we were!” cried Chris, choo scovered the cries of the’ ~ “4 te * ey ° Ks.com i ye,