Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 118 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

342 eee wwe we eee eee ee eee ——" ‘then he was pulled ‘power—up—up— ‘“Good enough! If I shall be so lucky as to tumble over the other, Ill at once set myself u as a candidate for Creedmoor,” Jack said, wit a chuckle. ‘‘ Then the outlaws can howl and tear their hair as much as they please, for the little mare can craw] right away from them.” Bang! again Jack’s rifle cracked sharply, and down went the remaining bloodhound on a run! Tnen giving the mare the spurs again, the young adventurer dashed away down the gulch as fast as the little mare could go, which was not slow. Away! away! he flew, and was just beginning to count himself out of danger, when that grim foe once more suddenly loomed up in his path. A horseman rode out of a clump of bushes, drew rein, and leveled a rifle full at Jack. Jack saw the act, and ducked his head, just in time to escape being perforated by the new enemy’s bullet, which sung close to his ear. Quickly raising his own rifle, he took aim and fired, but the bullet did not take effect, evidently for the horseman sat grimly in his saddle, and fired with a revolver, the shot taking effect in the fleshy part of Jack’s right leg, making a slight scratch, tung to madness, Jack raised his co see ae again and fired, while the mare was going at full tilt, and had the satisfaction of seeing the ruffian sink back in his saddle, and roll to tbe ground. Never checking the speed of the mare, he dashed on, and as he passed the spot where the man had fallen, he saw to his surprise that it was Old Firefly, alias Revolver Jake, whom he had shot! This discovery solved the question as to the strange old fellow’s visit to the cave; he had been there, undoubtedly, at the instigation of the Tremaines. This occurring to Jack, he instantly reined in his horse, and dismounted. The traitor was not dead but had been stunned by the bullet, and was now quite insensible. A burriel search of his clothing and saddle- ee satisfied Jack that he had not found the hidden money. Remounting his horse he continued on more leisurely toward Deadwood, for seeing ang a | of pursuit, he concluded that the outlaws ha given it up. ' By this time it was growing quite dusk, and he was obliged to let his horse walk, for the gulch was narrow and rocky, and the gigantic overhanging rocks in places entirely shut out what little light struggled through the approach- ing gloom. On thinking over the adventures of the past . forty-eight hours, Jack concluded that it was about time for a cessation; buf in this calcula- tion he was disappointed, for a new adventure befell him when he was least expecting it. He was passing in under one of the ete ing juttings of rock, when he was suddenly snatched from his saddle by a rope that tighten- ed around his waist, and found himelf swing- in mid-air, powerless to defend himself, for ing the rope that had caught him had also pinioned his hands to his side, For a moment he hung swaying in the air— upward by some unseen up; it seemed as if he would never stop rising—as if he were being drawn up ‘to the very sky itself. He had about come to this conclusion, when ‘he heard the sound of human voices, which was a relief. Presently, more dead than alive, he was hauled up on top of the ledge, more than a hundred feet above his original starting point, and found himself, to his great surprise, in the resence of the Indian girl, Wild Jo, and a rawny copper-skinned Indian, who had evi- dently done the work of hoisting, for he was puffing and blowing like a ise. A tew sticks were dimly wigs - near by, furnishing the only light upon the subject. ‘* Wild Flower is glad the pale-face safely canned, the Indian girl ssid, extending her hand. ‘‘ Wild Flower and Weptomo were com- ing to your rescue, when Weptomo discovered ou riding down the gulch, and lassoed you. Is e pale-face miner glad to see Wild Jo?” ‘Well, to use the vernacular of the mines, I shed opine that I am, ef so be you’ve got some & handy !” Jack replied, shaking the maiden’s “There is plenty of food in the Locked Val- ley; which is not far away,” announced the girl. “If the pale-face will permit his eyes to be blindfolded, he will soon be placed within reach of plenty of food.” _ “Correct, little gal! I'll trust you, I reckon, v eee ——_— = Jack Hoyle. for I don’t believe you’d betray me to peril, ack said. ‘‘So go ahead with your Centennial clam-bake.”’ The brawny savage, whose name was Wepto- mo, accordingly lifted Jack upon a horse that was standing near, first taking care to blind- fold his eyes. Then Jack felt himself riding away, he knew not where—knew nothing of his strange j ——e except that it was through a remarkably mtr: tract of country, which he could tell as t horse ascended or descended dizzy declivities. For hours, it seemed, he rode on, and could hear Wild Jo and Weptomo talking by his side in their Indian tongue, and so concluded that they were traveling on foot. At last the horse stopped, and the blindfold was removed from Jack’s eyes. On looking around, he perceived that he was in what appeared to be a deep pit, for mighty walls of rock towered wp 8 ma may on every hand toa hight Jack’s gaze could not fathom, in the darkness. The bottom of the stran ley, as Wild Jo had term more than two acres of space, and was sandy and pebbly. A row of little thatched huts fringed the spate, seven in number, and in front of each of these burned a camp-fire built of pitchy pine cones. At one side of the pit, a stream of water poured down in a silvery cascade, and rgting across the bottom of the strangely locked valley, disappeared through a crevice in the rock. Mile after mile underground must this strange ot Ne go, ere it emerged again into the outer world. ‘You are in the Locked Valley—the home of Wild Flower and Mountain King,” the Indian girl explained, stepping forward and motionin r Jack to dismount. ‘‘ Dismount, and I wi show you to the Mountain ae ‘Correct! I’m agreeable to that or most any- thing that savors of hash,” Jack declared. ‘‘Somehow my stomach feels like a collapsed balloon.” placed before you,” Jo an- pit or Locked Val- it, did not comprise “*Food shall be swered, leading the way toward the largest hut of the lot. On entering, Jack found himself in an apartment such as he had little expected to behold in the bowels of the mountain. A car- pet was laid upon the ground—chairs were laced around—a lamp burned upon a small eal table, while in one corner was a bedstead and bed, and in another a box-shaped case re- sembling a desk of the old-fashion pattern. A man was lounging in an easy-chair near the table, engaged in smoking a long-stemmed pipe, and looked up with a start as Jo and Jack en- tered. The second glance Jack got at the man dis- covered him to be a white man instead of an In- dian, although his hair was black and worn down over his shoulders. His attire was that of the ordinary American citizen. ‘‘ Here, father, is the young miner of whom I spoke,” Wild Jo said, leading Jack forward and presenting him. ‘‘I am sure you will like him very much.” ‘“Does the Wild Flower like him?’ the man asked, oman Jack’s hand. ‘Of course I do,” was the girl’s reply, now in pure unbroken English. ‘‘Then Oroboko will welcome the pale-face, for Wild Fiower’s choice is Onoboko’s choice. What is tie name of the young pale-face?” ‘*My name is Jack Hoyle, at your service,” Jack announced, “A name suggestive of the game of cards, sir,” the Mountain King had todeclare. “Be seated, sir. Josie, you may bring in some meat from the cookery, and some coffee and onthe girl d parted, with a bow, and then th 6 girl de , with a bow, an en the Mountain King turned to Jack. “Now, my friend! How like you the Locked Valley and its people?” ‘‘Don’t give me hard questions, at first, or I shall not be able to solve them,” Jack protested. ‘‘T have seen so little of the valley or its popula- tion, that Ican not say how I like either. I supposed you and the yo lady to be Indians but I perceive that you ate both as fully Ameri- cans as myself.” “Very true. Weare only Indians when we t our skin. I am sure that you will like it ere, well enough to make it your permanent me. ‘“‘T seriously doubt that. I believe I should prefer life above ground. “Pshaw! you will change your mind when y t uainted, and of the golden wealth of this pitfall.” ‘** Then there is gold here?” | | gold in drifted quartz. | 16 | “Ay! gold in nuggets, gold in sparkling dust, e very ground you stand upon is pregnant with the precious stuff.”’ ‘‘How do you get out of the pit?’ Jack de- manded. “That is a secret we must withhold from you,” the Mountain King replied, smiling. ‘‘ You might try a thousand years, and you could never get out without my aid, or that of Jo or some of the men.” “Then I suppose you and those you have mentioned are the only ones in possession of the secret of this place’s existence.” ‘We are. No other mortal than those who are present in this valley now, know of the ex- istence of this pit of gold, or if any hunters and explorers have ever noticed it in their travels, they have paid no more attention to it than they do to a thousand and one other fissures and chasms to be found in the face-of this wild, mountainous country.” ‘* How did ie discover it?” ‘Curiosity led me to lower myself down here, | and I discovered my big bonanza. That was many years ago, when with a party of i eka I ventured into this country. I immediately took possession, and have occasionally added a trusty Indian to 4 employ, until I have a band of ten peaceable fellows collected, who will stick by me as long as I live.” ‘Then according to your story, you must be immensely rich.” ““T will show you,” the mountain hermit miner said, taking the lamp and going to his desk, which he unlocked. ‘Come and feast your eyes, and then draw your own conclusions as to my pecuni possessions.” Jack did feast his eyes, and beheld a sight of dazzling splendor, such as might have been the vision of a dream. Gold in nuggets, large and small—gold in trays of glittering sands and dust—gold in molten bars, and in pouches— more gold by far than he had ever seen. “That is not all,” the hermit said, with a smile. ‘“‘I have more buried in strong boxes beneath the ground on which we stand—more, sper than the whole yield of the rest of the lack Hills country for the last three years. a ‘*Then you must be worth more than any | other man in the world—more than the famed Rothschilds or Vanderbilts!” Jack cried, won- deringly. Perhaps ro are right. I don’t know just | how many counted it.” ‘*Why do you longer remain here, when you are the possessor of all this wealth? Why ‘not go out into the world and enjoy yourself? ‘*Bah! What is the world to me? I care nothing for ° It treated me aw —, I was poor, and now in my prosperit y scorn it. No! no! Ishall never leave aay Locked Valley home!” CHAPTER XI. ONOBOKO’S PROPOSAL—A MINSTREL VENTURE. At this juncture, Wild Jo brought in a steam. ing tray of roast meat, coffee and corn bread, and placed it on the table, together with plates, knives and forks and sugar, and invited Jack to rtake of the re And you may besure he d so with a will, for he was very hungry, and the meal was literally too tempting for any- thing. After he had satisfied his appetite, and signi- fied his desire to retire, a savage was summoned who guided him to another and smaller tent which was fitted up with a bed of leaves, furs and blankets—good enough for a king to lie upon. Jack at once tumbled in, and slept soundly until we ben“ although he was visited by dreams of gold, in all its glittering forms, as he had seen it in the Mountain King’s cabinet. When he awoke it was still dark in the tent, but on striking a match and looking at his watch, he found it was the usual time for daylight to a ; Ton ete ing from the lodge he found the pit ent@onel in a seh ores only a little better than when he entered. © os upward, he was able to catch a glimpse of the blue sky, but it was many, many feet eet Even to gaze out of the pit was an ef- ort. So he concluded that it was never any lighter in the Locked Valley than at present, except when there were camp-fires burning. e fact was evidenced by savages being engaged on the banks of the stream, in washing sand, while others were blasting out rock from the southern wall of the pit, each working in the light of a torch held by another savage. The Mountain Rs pe from his bdge, and approached Jack with a smile. com 0 (0X) (C ollars or cents I have; I never “SEO