The Half Dime Library, No. 1042 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

ort . rh : - i yy ¢-3 < a ~~ A - eid > y Ba, c28 <k ‘ rs re ‘ SY ee yy : _ > ~~ o . _% or ' a. a “eee eey : - - ae » 4 Ps . ae m had money, for he believed his secret un- mown; well, my advice to him is to leave these parts, or his wicked brother, if he finds out he has gold, will commit a greater crime than forgery. “Ah me! I should hate to give Bessie up, for if I am but nineteen I love her dearly; but does she care for me, whom everybody calls a boy?” ’ “That I will have to find out by asking her, and I will, if she refuses me—ab! there comes you, and sbe is uot alone. “T do wish [ could find out the mystery about that woman, and also about that Boy Bandit, who seems to hate me so, for he per- sistently threatens me and dogs my trail, ‘‘Tf it were not that I wanted to take him alive, I could have killed him on a score of oc- > v : —E——e some one now—yes, it is the Spirit of the Can- | casions; perhaps she may know and I will ask her. “She approaches cautiously, so I will ride out into the moonlight so that she can recog- nize me,” and Little Grit rode from beneath the thick foliage of the tree, and instantly the two persons approaching came to a halt. But, after an instant’s scrutiny, as though satisfied, they came on once more, and soon drew rein not ten feet from where the youth sat on his horse. ‘‘ Well, I have kept my word, Wild Rider,” said the woman calmly, and she laid her hand upon the shoulder of Bessie Benton, who had not spoken a word. ‘‘And I have kept mine,” answered Little Grit. ‘You have the gold?” “Yes,” “The amount I demanded?’ “ As near as it could be guessed at?” * Wnough! I return you the maiden who has been in my charge only; buf there is one de- mand [I make.” “ Well?” ‘‘ Bid her father take her far from here, or if you love her, and she loves you, make her your wife, and stay no longer here, for your lives are in danger.” ‘* My life is always in danger,” was the reck- less reply. ‘Then protect her life and her honor, for, I tell you frankly that there is one who would harm her, and what I now do will cause him bitter anger against me, and that is why I asked the gold as ransom, to appease his wrath.” ‘‘Ha! and that person is—” ‘Phe Boy Bandit.” ‘¢ What is that boy to you?” “Tt matters not what he is to me, or I to him, only do not disregard my warning, or death and sorrow will follow, I assure you.” “Say you will go, please, say you will go, Little Grit,” pleaded Bessie Benton, speaking for the first time since the meeting. “Tf you will go with me, yes,” boldly an- 4 the youth. , “@ladly |” «As my wife?’ “cc Ss. bP ] “Tam not two years your senior, Bessie, but Iam a man in feeling, and I love yon, and for your sake I will leave here, and give up the wild life I lead, where otherwise I would glory in remaining and braving the Boy Bandit and bés whole band.” ‘“Boy, you are, reckless, brave to foolhardi- ness, but I warn you to beware of Gold Plume, the Boy Bandit, for he is merciless. “Crime has made him what he is, and he éevels in danger and combat, and is merci- less toward those he hates.” » “ And he hates me?’ _ “He has been told to hunt you down!” “By whom?” ‘By an enemy of yours; it matters not who he is, for you have foes as well as friends; but take the girl and go, and when you are happy remember that a poor outcast woman, one whom men fly from as they would from a ghost, risked her life to give you happiness.” eT "7 i a = stat A > : tian ~ (as La : * be : . ' 4 7 " ae a ; “ J beg? gt . 24 ifs ay! | ‘ ae * aa —_— - ~7 ~ a —aE nt ae ee ; vow SEY * i . ~, - $ e ~* Baas , one o . . ra Grit, - ittle ‘*“But you must bave some motive for this, other than a desire to serve this maiden and myself,” ‘I have; it isa motive thatis a curse to man and woman—jealousy !”’ She spoke the word with intense feeling, and having taken the gold simply waved her hand in farewell and rode away. Both Little Grit and Bessie watched her until she was out of sight, and: then the latter said sadly: ‘* Poor thing, she seems to suffer from some great sorrow in the past; but be she what she may, I cannot but regard her most kindly, for she carried me to a cavern retreat in the mountains, cared tor me most tenderly, and pledged herself that no harm should befall me; but I was kept under guard, and I feel confi- dent that she holds great influence with the bandits.” ** And I shall love her, for giving you to me, Bessie,” said Little Grit softly, and the two turned the heads of their horses homeward, and just at dawn Daniel Benton clasped his daughter in his arms, and three happy people sat down to the frugal breakfast that morning in the humble cabin of the stock-tender, CHAPTER XXIT. THE DUELIST’S SON. “You asked tosee me, Colonel Hewlett,” and Little Grit entered the temporary quarters of the. cavalry officer, the morning following the restoration of Bessie Benton to for father. The colonel was seated in an easy camp chair, and before him were some official-look- ing papers, while at the window sat Helen en- gaged in embroidering a sofa cushion. “Yes, young gentleman, I do wish to see you, I have learned this morning that you rescued Bessie Benton from the bandits.” ‘‘T did little in the matter, sir, other than bringing her back to her home.” ‘¢You are modest, sir; but I also learn that the stock-tender, Benton, leaves the country to-day with his daughter, and that you ae- company them?” ‘“‘] do, sir; I will give up this wild life at once,” “* May I ask why you have come to this sud- den determination, young man?” A flush passed over the face of the youth; but after an instant of hesitation, he answered: ‘* Colonel Hewlett, 1 will frankly tell you, sir. | “Up to the day when I completed my long ride, I had but one main object in view, one I had been trained up to, and one which I cher- ished most fondly.” ‘* And that was—?’ asked the colonel, as the youtlr paused, and Helen looked up quickly from her work. ‘“‘T will tell you, sir; it was to one day meet you in personal encounter, and kill you p ; ». The eyes of Little Grit never wavered as he spoke, but he looked squarely into the face of the man to whom he had made such a startling ‘declaration, and who asked quickly: “To kill me?’ “Yes, Colonel Hewlett, and I will tell you ‘‘From my earliest boyhood I have been taught by one person to believe that.my father was pursued through life and cruelly murdered by one who was supposed to be his friend, and I wasfeducated to one aim, and that was to one day avenge him by killing his slayer. ‘Three years ago the person who had so urged me on was murdered, with others of a train, by Indians, and in looking over the papers left for my perusal, I discovered that I was perhaps wrong to seek redress, as they im- plicated my father. ‘‘ But I had taken a solemn oath to one day hold you responsible, and I set to work to ac- ‘complish it. , " “When you were on the Southern border, I ‘sought you there, but arrived to find that you ‘had just been sent abroad by the Government, ‘so I determined to bide my time until your re- . : . F 7? the Wild Rider. ws . BF 2 — | turn, and, to keep myself in practice with fire- arms, and inured to danger, I. came here and enlisted as a Pony Express Rider, for, an offi- cer whom I know well, told me that you would be erdered into this part of the country. ‘“T waited long, but at last you came, and I saved -your daughter from a cruel fate, and that broke down the barrier of hatred I felt for you; but my oath stared me in the face, and I was determined to keep it, up to the day I accomplished my long ride. “tf was carried, not to my room, bat to Judge Hunter’s, that adjoins this one, and as the wall is frail, 1 heard your confession to your daughter, and then I knew that you too had been wronged, not only by my father, but 'by the woman you had loved, the one who had so persistently trained me for one purpose —to kill you. ‘‘That person was my mother, Colonel Hew- lett, and thcugh I loved her dearly, 1 now know that she became a monomaniac on the subject of revenging the death of my father, the man who bad stolen from you your bride. “Then it was, Colonel Hewlett, that I de- termined to bury in my heart the seeret, to break the oath ferced upon me in childhood, and give up the red trail that has warped my whole life.” Little Grit paused, his face very pate, and down the fair cheeks of Helen Hewlett roKed pearly tear-drops, as she gazed upon him, while Colonel Hewlett arose, and said in a voice that quivered, in spite of his self-control: “And you, then, are the son of Lester and Cverinne Lamdell?” “Tam, six, ond a ctvange freak of my mother, after my father’s death, was to christen me Hewlett Lamdell.” ‘‘Great God! Corinne did this, and yet made you take oath to one day take my life?” ‘““ Yes, sir, it was to keep you ever in my mind, by my name; but do not misunderstand me, sir, I had no idea of playing the assassin, but intended to meet you, as my father met you, in the duello.” ‘““T believe you, my boy, for you are as noble as you are brave; but now let us bury the grim phantoms of the bygone, and, forgetting the shadows between us, I offer you my hand, and more, as the President bas given me per- niission to select from these gallant frontier youths, one upon whom to confer a lieutenancy in the army, I here offer you this commission of a second lieutenant of cavalry, and appoint you chief of scouts of my command.” The youth grasped the outstretched hand, but said calmly: ‘“‘T thank you, Colonel Hewlett, more than I can express in words; but ‘t is best that I remain not here, and duty to one who is to be my wife, calls me away from scenes where her life, and the life of her father are in danger.” ‘You refer to Bessie Benton?’ quietly asked Helen, without raising her eyes from her work, ‘‘ Yes, she has promised to be my wife.” “And you haye nobly won her, my boy; but I do wish that you would reconsider my offer,” said the colonel. ‘IT cannot, sir, 1 thank you, and will say farewell, for we leave within the hour,” and as the yout) epoke there came a wailing cry from without, and hearing his name called, Little Grit bounded from the room, followed by the colonel and Helen in alarm, for it gras. evident from the excited cries in front of the Riders’ Rest, that some dire calamity had hap- pened, CHAPTER XXIII. THE MOUNTAIN CABIN, Tue scene changes now, from the Riders’ Rest at Rocky Glen, to the mountains, leagues away, where, in a stout cabin, built against a cliff, sat a woman of rare beauty and strauge costume, for she was attired in a robe more — ; like a shroud for the dead than a dress forthe = living. 3 i 7 ey, Ma 4 2 oe : * : wt : és ae. #> v ‘. ' - . . : =" * ; 4 . ' é wut : be . . . 7 a4 “ ) s.* - -— » 2 =" ; . . 2 . os . ‘ . : : . 4 » : we - «/? i ‘ ~ “Wd $5 : P ; , a a FI vex 2 . P =. ‘e art ft ._ * a> ‘_ bs aa r “| . * | x , ‘ r ; en * 7 + - 14 nm 7 We fom ad Le? Een ai : wad A. > ts en %y * ¥ 4, ; ; “ted MS “ «a : ? a - 4 ~ | ‘ ' =) c& ‘ yy J Lhe 4 7 a’ ‘ sd 7 | > ( F | | * ads . - « ' : Z “* P i, - ‘ ts ofl 5 ap Ne P P by sok Oe ) [ at , . = : . ’ a : . P ~ -