Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 184 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

nee to move freely, thanks to the precautions he iad taken, but had instinctively moved away vrom the dead outlaw, terrified by the scent of warm blood. Weeninx bent over the prostrate form and coolly felt of if, to satisfy himself that no trace . of life remained. ‘* Yow ll give no more trouble,” he muttered, callously, rising erect and giving the corpse a careless kick. ‘‘It’s the end I marked out for you from the beginning, though I didn’t expect to polish you off quite so soon. I’ve read some- where that love works wonders—but who ever thought that a fancy fora girl would make Ham Toplong turn and snap at my fingers!” While muttering thus, the Mountain Vulture was not idle. Heraised Sibyl from the ground and mera her astride the same horse ridden by the Wolf Queen. Then he passed the noose of a lasso around them both, drawing and knotting it tightly in place. ‘‘Now mind ye,” he muttered warningly. **No nonsense. Tf you try any tricks or make any attempt to give me the slip, one jerk on this rope will bring you up with a round turn, and like as not break your dainty neck in the bargain. You’ve got your warning.” He mounted the horse vacated by the mur- dered outlaw, holding fast to the free end of the lasso, and rode away from the blovod- stained spot as rapidly as the darkness and the broken nature of the ground would admit. Both Sibyl and Netawaka were conscious, and both fully realized the peril of their situation. They also knew that escape under the existing circumstances was almost impossible, yet neither of them despaired. Sooner or later an oppor- tunity must present itself, and they held them- selves in readiness to make the most of it. Dark as was the night and intricate the way, Dirk Weeninx was never at a loss, but pushed steadily on to reach the den from which he and Toplong had ventured on their nefarious pur- pose some hours before. He knew that close and persistent search would be made for the stolen maiden as soon as she was missed, but this troubled bim but little. The retreat had been thoroughly tested on the former search. With his perfect knowledge of the rocky approaches, there was little danger of cit a readable trail behind, even in the night. For nearly two hours longer he rode steadily on, then drew rein and dismounted. ‘We are at our journey’s end for the present, my beauties,” he said, an ugly chuckle supple- menting his words. ‘Dll set vour feet free, so you can walk. but I reckon Pll keep you on a string until we are safe inside.” J Neither of his captives made any answer to this speech, but Dirk Weeninx cared little. He severed the thongs that bound their ankles, then lowered them from the saddle, leaving them still tied together by the lasso. ‘* Follow me, now, and see that you keep your heads low, unless you want some ugly pape The ceiling is not quite as high as it might be. Careful, now.” Without aword they yielded to the strain of the lasso, bowing low and following their captor through what appeared to be a long, low, crooked tunnel in the heart of the rocks. ‘*Steady now,” came the voice of the Moun- tain Vulture, sounding hollow and unearthly in that underground den. ‘‘ Stand still while I strike a light, and then you shall inspect our dainty bridal chamber, ha! ha!” It sounded like the laugh of a veritable demon, and both of the helpless maidens shuddered as they heard it. They knew now that they need look for no mercy at his hands. Rapidly Dirk Weeninx worked. Kindlings and an abundance of dry fuel had span tf been prepared, and but a few minutes elapsed ere a crackling blaze lighted up the gloomy den. With a laugh of exultation the Mountain Vul- ture raised his head to look upon his captives— but he beheld far more than he had anticipated. ‘* Throw up your hands, or I'll bore your brain with a brace of bullets !” Clear and menacing rung out the words, em- phasized by a pair of cocked and leveled revol- vers, clasped by the hands of Dainty Lance as he stood in front of the two women, his brow bent, his eyes glowing sternly. The face of the Mountain Vulture was the picture of amazement and dismay as he heard these words and recognized the young trapper. But only for a moment did he hestitate. _ He believed that capture meant death, judg- ing his enemy by himself, He saw that his brain was covered by both pistols. <A single contraction of the finger eas § prove his death- warrant, yet he resolved to dare all—to make The Boy Trailers. eee ee — one desperate endeavor to retrieve his fortunes, trusting to luck to elude the avenging bullets. Like a panther he strained his sinews for the leap—but too late. A dark form shot through the air, coming from the shadows behind him and a heavy pistol-butt descended upon his head with crushing force. With a faint groan the Mountain Vulture fell forward upon his face, knocked senseless. ‘*(zood enough, old boy!” cried Dainty Lance, as Hardy Zeph unbuckled the belt of weapons from around the waist of thefallen outlaw. He said no more, for at the sound of his voice a glad cry came from Sibyl, and turning quick- ly, Dainty Lance clasped her to his breast, cov- ering her face with passionate kisses. Hardy Zeph looked as though he would dearly like to duplicate the performance, with Neta- waka for a partner, but he contented himself with severing the rope that still bound the girls together, and removing the blanket from the head of his adored one, Then he cut the thongs from her wrists, and gaining courage from the example of his heart brother, the young trapper was on the point of claiming his reward, when Netawaka said, sharply: ‘That dog is recovering; tie his hands, or he may give us trouble yet.” Dainty Lance was oblivious to all save his re- covered love, and with a doleful sigh, the love- lorn trapper set about ’securing the Mountain Vulture with his own lasso. The next few minutes will scarcely bear a close report, nor would it be exactly fair to give one. Let the reader imagine him or herself in the place of Dainty Lance or the Snow Sprite; let them remember under what circumstances they were torn apart, just after being solemnly betrothed; let them recall the trials each had undergone since that night, and then find fault if they can. Netawaka was indulgent enough, though she was anxious to leave that spot for another where she believed they would be much safer when the hue and cry was raised, as it soon must be, but at length she was forced to inter- rupt the love scene. “The night is growing old, and with the morning will come hot search for the Snow girl. There is only one spot where she can safely hide: in the house of the Indian witch, old Kan- gewock.” ‘*'We can take those horses and be far away before they can strike our trail,” said Dainty Lance, involuntarily shuddering at the idea of again visiting the place where he came so near meeting a most horrible death. Netawaka whispered a few words in his ear. A glorious light irradiated his countenance, and a cry of surprised joy broke from his lips. The Wolf Queen placed one finger upon her lips, and Dainty Lance obeyed the mute caution, choking down the words that almost suffocated m. ‘*You folks go ahead,” said Zeph, with a vicious glance at the now conscious outlaw. “I reckon [ kin coax this critter not to give us any more trouble,” ‘*No, he goes with us,” said the Wolf Queen decisively. ‘“‘I claim him as my captive, ant will punish him as I deem fit.” No one thought of disputing her word. Hardy Zeph made a noose in the free end of the lasso and fitted it around the neck of the Mountain Vulture. His arms remained bound, but his feet were set free, to enable him to walk. The two horses were turned loose to wander at will, and then the party set out for the cavern where dwelt the Indian witch, there to lay low until the hot search for Sibyl should die away. Under any other circumstances it would have been a toilsome journey in the darkness, but now the hearts of all save one were beating rap- idly with joy, and that made the trip a pleasant one. The distance was not very great, and Neta- waka led them by the shortest route, yet, sparing no pains to conceal their trail, knowing that keen eyes would soon be on the search for the stolen maiden. The cavern reached, Dirk Weeninx was stowed away in a dark niche, then the Wolf Queen kindled a cheerful fire in the rock-cham- ber, from which old Kongewock had carried Dainty Lance to serve as a feast for her fero- cious pets. Both Sibyl and Dainty Lance had in a meas- ure taken the edge off their transports gion the walk to the cave, and now both she an Netawaka were curious to learn how the young trappers came to put in such a dramatic appear- ance just in the nick of time. — Dainty Lance trankly admitted that as day 13 after day crept by without Netawaka meeting him at the agreed upon rendezvous, he had be- gun to suspect her sincerity, and on that night the young trappers sallied forth from their re- treat with the intention of entering the Indian town, to learn if possible whether Sibyl was an inmate. While on their way they heard a pistol-shot not far from them, followed by a scream in a feminine voice. They stole forward to investi- ate the matter, reaching the spot just as Dirk eeninx mounted the horse so lately ridden by the comrade he had murdered, They divined the truth so far as Sibyl was concerned, but, owing to the darkness and the disguising blanket, they took Netawaka for Ham Toplong, and feared to make an attack then, lest Sibyl should be injured in the gloom. They dogged the outlaw to his retreat, only learning the whole truth when he aided his fair captives to alight. His speech gave them the desired clew, and, silently following him into the den, they took the scoundrel completely by sur- prise. His explanation consumed much greater space than is afforded it here, and at the end Neta- waka arose, saying: ‘The White Wolf has richly earned the pun- ishment I have in store for him. He is too evil to live any longer.” She glided through the passage, lighted by the torch Hardy Zeph carried. cry of amaze- ment parted her lips as she paused before the spot where Dirk had been left, CHAPTER XI, TRACKED TO DEATH, Dirk WEENINX Was gone! Upon the rocky floor of the little niche in which he had been stowed away, as all believed in per- fect security, lay the bonds with which he had been confined. _With an exclamation that sounded suspiciously like s curse, Hardy Zeph snatched up the frag- ments. ‘‘He sawed his hands loose on that pint ’o rock eT kin see the blood whar he broke the skin!” ‘‘He'll make for the horses we left,’ uttered Dainty Lance, ‘ We'll hear from the rascal again before all’s ended,”’ ‘White Wolf has taken his last ride on mortal horse—he will never give you trouble,” said the Wolf Queen, with a peculiar intonation that startled even Hardy Zeph. She ploced one hand to her lips and uttered a long, quavering cry, From far away in the bowels of the hollow mountain there came a chorus of howls and yelping barks, then followed a rapid patter of feet and from the blackness beyond a full score of wolves emerged, headed by the huge black, Tarkio. ‘White Wolf has not had time to go far,” said Netawaka, caressing the head of the black wolf as it fawned upon her. “In the darkness we couldn't follow his trail, and he could laugh our efforts to scorn; but here are noses as true and deadly as that of the purest bloodhound. White Wolf has fairly started upon the trail of death!” ** You mean to hunt him down with those wolves?” asked Dainty Lance, while the Snow Sprite hid her eyes with an involuntary shudder of horror. “Tf we let him go he would dare all for revenge, He would tell the White Medicine where she is hid- ing. Go back to the fire with the Snow-girl. and think of pleasant things. Go—I am losing time.” “I’m going ‘long with you,” said Hardy Zeph, with the dogged earnestness peculiar to him when he was bound to have his own way, “That old coon is p'izen nasty, an’ he'll fight hard once you git him cornered,” The Wolf Queen laughed prousdty as she glanced around upon her four-footed servants, o man lived who could successfully do battle with them all, when once her voice urged them to the attack. Hardy Zeph gazed upon her admiringly, his mouth fairly watering, his heart on fire. To nit it was a glorious spectacle as she stood in her physical beauty, the center of the group of wild, four-footed worshipers. Not so to Dainty Lance. A cold thrill, almost of aversion crept over him, and drawing Sibyl closer to his side, he turned and retraced his steps to the rock chamber, Netawaka delayed no longer. One by one, begin ning with Tarkio, she made the wolves smell of the spot where the Mountain Vulture had lain; of the ropes and the blood stained point of rock, the while muttering low words in a tongue unintelligible to Hardy Zeph, but which the wolves seemed to fully comprehend, Then she rose pang waved her hand along the narrow passage leading to the outer world, uttering a single sharp cry. Tarkio, the others close at his heels, glided away, a low, menacing howl breaking from his throat, ‘*Come!” cried the Wolf Queen, her eyes b'azing, her voice ringing clear as a clarion. Ban has fairly begun! The trail of death lies be- ore us!”’ No less excited, Hardy Zeph obeyed, keeping close to her heels, both emerging from the hollow hill and racing through the darkness, over the broken round, after the pack of wolves. The fierce crea- ures howled and yelped as though they scented a bloody feast in the distance. Only gaunt Tarkio — COMmcpoe A * The man- |