Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 185 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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the concealed weapon that his hand sought, Powell dealt him a blow upon the head with the cane and Sanders fell to the sward sense- less and bleeding from a slight wound. ‘‘T am sorry that I was compelled to strike him,” said Powell, ‘‘but I know the danger- ous character of the man and I acted on the defensive, as you will testify.” ‘‘Young man, receive my heartfelt thanks for your timely interference. Had you not arrived, I fully believe the fellow would have murdered me. The only reason I can give you for his cowardly attack is because I have re- fused him the door of my house. My name, sir, is Bryan Walters; I am the owner of a large cattle ranch on the Nueces river. Oc- casionally I visit the post to communicate with your commander. This fellow, Sanders, man- aged to gain my good will, several months ago, and [ invited him to my home. My daugbh- ter Winona expressed a dislike for the man, and upon examination here, and elsewhere, I found him to be a dangerous character to have even as a casual visitor to my home. I ex- pressed my views to him, and it seems that he was considerably angered. I am a plain-spoken man and I told him my reasons. For this he attacked me, and I firmly believe that I should have fallen a corpse, upon this spot, but for your arrival.” ‘‘T am pained to see that one of my com- rades in arms should have so far forgotten himself as to lose respect for gray hairs, and disgrace the uniform that he wears. I offer you an apology, sir, and will at once report to the commander of the post.” ‘*Your name, sir?’ asked Walters, admiring the handsome officer. “Harry Powell.” The old gentleman extended his hand, which the young man grasped and wrung cordially. Walters mounted his horse and rode toward the military post, while Powell walked beside the horseman. Sanders lay perfectly quiet upon the earth until the two men had almost reached Fort Duncan. The villain then arose and wiped the blood from his forehead. ‘‘That’s the dearest blow you ever struck!” he muttered, glancing toward the now distant form. ‘‘ Beware of me for I will run you to earth like a bloodhound. You are about to cross over into Mexico, after your horse, eh? Perhaps you'll meet some one over on that side that you little dream will be there to extend a welcome to you and whoever accompanies you on your journey.” For a while Sanders stood gazing toward the distant stockade which he saw indistinctly in the fast descending shadows of evening. He seemed pondering and waiting for the night to cast her gloomy mantle upon the surrounding landscape. Then he moved away like a phan- tom in the direction of the river, and once upon its bank he paused to search for an object among the rank bushes that grew close to the water. lt was a package which he quickly opened, and from its folds he withdrew some garments which he placed close by while he removed his uniform. He attired himself in the garb he had selected and exchanged his cap for a dark sombrero. He cast the military uniform into the river, and watched it float away. ““1)] never want to use you again,” said he, “for when I again cross over into Texas it will not be as a servant of the United States, but perhaps as one of the followers of Evil Eye. Now, Harry Powell, look to yourself! You are no longer my superior officer. If we meet upon that side of the river we will balance accounts, and you may be sure the odds will be in my favor. You are about to cross over upon Mexican soil, but 1’ll warrant you'll never leave it again.” Then Sanders cautiously waded into the river and made his way toward the Mexican shore. Reaching the opposite bank, he gazed toward the American side, shook his clenched fist in the direction of the fort, and disappeared in the chaparral. \ Evil Eye, King of Cattle Thieves. Mr 5 Bryan Walters returned to his ranch, after | I have caused all the trouble; [am to blame for extending an invitation to Powell to call, should he be in the vicinity. Harry prepared himself for his trip into Mexico, and Jacob Slaushorn did likewise. Sanders did not make his appearance within the limits of the post when the gates were closed for the night, nor did the next morning bring any news of the absentee. Toward evening a cavalryman brought the discarded uniform of the missing man into the fort, He had discov- ered it floating down the river and had brought it ashore. It was then rightfully surmised that Sanders had deserted, but none dreamed that he was the villain that he was. CHAPTER VI. DOOMED TO A HORRIBLE FATE. “TAKE that red-hot iron and burn deep into the sockets!” The words proceeded from the lips of the outlaw leader, and the Mexican who held the blood-red iron advanced to the prostrate form of the young American. Powell could feel the intense heat of the metal as the Mexican drew near, and he closed his eyes and shuddered; but, before the ill-look- ing bandit could apply the iron to the eyes of the helpless captive, a piercing scream startled the group, and Winona darted forward and dashed aside the wretch with the awful object of torture. She placed herself above the youth, and with her hands covered his features. ‘Oh men! if you are men, stay the hand of that monster! Do not allow such a crime to be committed. It is horrible, horrible!” Her pale features were turned to the group, but she saw no signs of sympathy on the dark, scowling faces of the assembled bandits. In- stead, their faces wore a disappointed look— disappointed because they had anxiously awaited to see the American put to a death of tortures. Nothing was so horrible as to touch the hearts of these fiends. Winona’s words fell upon heedless ears, and only added to Evil Eye’s fury, as he saw the executioner dashed aside by the frail girl. ‘* Back to your prison!” he yelled to her, ‘and you, Manedo, seize that iron and obey me,” “ No! no!” screamed the fair girl, ‘ burn in- to the flesh of my hands if you will, but he shall not be harmed. These hands will pro- tect his face and eyes until your cruel iron has burned each muscle and fiber. Stand back, monster! Do not approach this helpless man with such horrible purposes!” The Mexican with the iron stood as if unde- cided in his actions. “ Dog! dare you disobey me?” thundered the bandit chief, and he struck the Mexican a blow that sent the fellow reeling to the earth and the hissing iron fell to the adobe pavement. Winona sprung forward and seized the han- dle of the instrument of torture and before Evil Eye could divine her intentions, or his minions prevent the act, she had flung it far above and over the walls toward the cliff and it fell into the glen far, far beneath the battle- ments of the Outlaws’ Roost. A hoarse cry of rage broke from Evil Eye’s lips as he saw the act, and he gnashed his teeth like a wild beast in impotent fury. Winona sunk down upon her knees before the outlaw and raised her hands in supplica- tion. “Spare him, sir! Do not inflict such tor- tures upon him. Surely you are not so cruel as you have been represented, and you will re- lent. I ask you upon my bended knees to spare his life.” ‘““ Why do you beg for his life? Is it through motives of pity, or is it because you love this man?” There was something peculiar in the man’s tones and Evil Eye glared upon the little fig- ure at his feet, as he spoke. “Tt is because I wish to spare all bloodshed, the miseries he bas endured and I wish to avoid injury or torture to one who has be- friended me!” She raised her tear-dimmed eyes toward the outlaw and again implored his clemency. ‘ Are you sure that you have not learned to love this American?” Evil Eye demanded. ‘“T cannot answer that question,” Winona responded, tremulously. ‘ ‘*Do you forget the attention paid you by my friend Don Costa? He offered you his hand and heart, and you spurned both. Do you remember your reply to him?” ‘Yes, because I could not love the Don. It would be wrong to deceive him.” ‘‘Tndeed! You could have learned to love him if you had tried.” “No! I could never love him.” Evil Eye’s face grew darker if such a thing was possible. “Whether you love him or not,” said he, “‘ you shall mate with him. You shall be his bride. If you learn to love him, so much the better for yourself. I will warn you in time that your tears and stubbornness will avail you naught. You will never leave this place ex- cept as the wife of Don Costa.” ‘Why do you detain me, for Don Costa? What is he to you?” cried Winona. “‘ He is—well it matters not to you, at pre- sent. Don Costa is a friend whom I wish to favor. I know he loves you and will guard you from the storms and perils of life. You are to be his wife.” “And you will spare the prisoner?” said Winona rising and approaching Evil Eye. “Ah, I had forgotten him. I will spare him,” said the bandit. ‘“* Heaven bless you for this one noble act!” murmured Winonu. “TI said I would spare him—I spare him from the death I had prepared for him, but not from the torture I have just now decided to inflict upon him, Seize the bear him away into the vault!” Evil Eye’s command was obeyed with alacrity and several ruffians prevented Winona from again reaching Powell’s side. The outlaw chief smiled hideously as he saw the result of his little piece of deceit. Several of his bandits bore the semi-conscious girl to- ward the building from whence she had es- caped, and the lieutenant of the outlaw band upbraided the hag for her want of vigilance and saw that Winona’s hands were fettered with a silkencord. The ruffians bore Powell into a low passageway and descended a flight of rough steps. They halted before a low doorway and in- serting a large key into the ponderous lock one of the Mexicans opened the door and handed the key to Evil Eye. The gloomy vault re- sembled a charnel-house, It was evidently the prison-keep of the Outlaws’ Roost, and in all probability the dungeon for the condemned members of the league, or for the unransomed wretches that were cast into its dark depths, never to come forth again. served to expose this vault to the eyes of the helpless prisoner, and a shudder swept through his frame as he saw the moldering remains of mortality scattered upon the slimy flooring of the vault. ‘* Remove his coat and make bare his chest and arms,” said the outlaw chief in a low voice that sounded ghostly in that tomb-like apart- ment, Powell’s hands were loosened in order that his upper garments could be removed. The youth made no effort to resist, nor did he reply to the insulting remarks of the outlaw chief. In a few moments Powell was stripped to the weist and his hands again secured. Then bis feet were bound with a rope and he was laid upon the damp floor. “‘Perhaps you wonder what I am about to do?” gaid the bandit, with a leer, ‘‘ and per- haps you would like to be enlightened upon the subject? By aid of the torch you can look | around you and behold your tomb, for you | 0 Oe) com CS Cc American and f A blazing torch © (E(0)