Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 186 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

———— + illuminate the gloom of the cave-chamber even when the sun was at its full hight and power, and therefore a bunch of lighted candles fasten- ed to a stick which was stuck in the sand likea torch, faintly dispelled the darkness. The chief counted the Cats, ‘**One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and the sentinel outside is eleven and Lam twelve,” he said. ‘‘ We lack another, for we number thirteenin our band—thirteen Wild- cats, good aud true. Where is the thirteenth Cat?” The members of the band looked at each other a moment in doubt and then one and all shook their heads. ‘You don’t know, eh? It is a conundrum and you give it up? Do you all ‘ pass’?” And they all nodded as much as to signify that they couldn’t ‘‘ ante up” in this game. “Pll tell you where he was this morning, and then you will know the reason why he is not here now!” the Wild-cat leader exclaimed, with savage earnestness. ‘‘ When the sun got out of his bed this day its first beams fell on our pard, ying cold and still, with a bullet-hole in his head, right in Juanapolis. Tom Cod was our man, one of the earliest members of our band and one who shrunk from nothing. Now the question is, who killed him? Was it private personal vengeance, or is there a silent secret slayer on our track, determined to lay us out, one by one?” The band gazed at each other in alarm, and then came a furious uproar outside, when in ' rushed the sentinel, dragging behind him the idiot boy. Ina moment knives and pistols. gleamed on the air, and death seemed near. CHAPTER VIII. KNAVE OR FOOL, ‘HALLO, what is the meaning of this?’ cried _ the Wild-cat chief. ‘This fellow gave the signal all right,” ex- plained the sentinel; ‘‘he knocked on the wall with a rock, then, when I gave the me-ow he an- swered it. I tipped the rock, thinking that it was No. 13, but, when he crawled in I detected that it was a stranger, and so I grabbed him and brought him in here.” The keen eyes of the Wild-cat leader had been fixed intently on the boy, who did not seem in the least alarmed by his perilous position, al- though he wriggled a little in the grasp of his a <a which was evidently no gentile one, he other members of the band, in the mean- time, had recognized the boy, and with exclama- tions of, ‘* Oh, it’s only that blarsted idiot!” and similar remarks, had put up their arecga Em ‘“‘Tet him be, for a moment, until I talk to him,” ordered the leader; the sentinel released the boy, a proceeding manifestly to his comfort, for he immediately straightened up and shook himself like a water-dog. *“Oh, what a lot of Cats!” he exclaimed: ‘and what big ones, too, and no tails!” Either the boy was too dull of comprehension to un- derstand the peril of his situation, or else he thought the easiest way to get out of it would be to play the fool. ‘‘Harkye, young man, speak the truth now or it will be the worse for you!” the leader cried, sternly. ‘*Speak the truth and shame the devil!” eja- culated the youth, mechanically, evidently re- peating a sentence which, with much care and pains, had been drilled into his dull mind. ‘Yes, that is it exactly. Now then, who set you to play the spy on me?’ The es ut this curt question because he suspected the idiot boy to have been the tracker who, he fancied, had trailed him from the town. ‘‘Me play spy—I spy!” and the boy laughed in idiotic glee, evidently confounding the ques- tion with childhood’s games. ‘‘No, no; who told you to follow me?” ‘** Nobody.” ‘*Do you see that rope there?” and the Wild- cat chief pointed to the knotted rope hanging from the roof of the vaulted chamber. ‘*See? Yes; see it, sure.” ‘We hang people on that whe don’t answer the questions we put to them. Would you like to be hung?” ‘* Yes,” answered the boy, promptly, evident- ly thinking there would be sport in the opera- tion. ‘* Well, you will have the chance if I don’t get some satisfaction eut of you, you young cub!” exclaimed the outlaw, grimly. ‘‘Rig a hang- man’s noose in that rope some of you, and fixa platform for the boy to stand on.” With speedy alacrity the gang complied ; not ee a ae + ee ee ! ™ Cool Desmond. —————— — — — me Cee a man of them but could tie that peculiar knot known as the hangman’s noose. The platform was arranged under the rope, and all the while the idiot boy surveyed the proceedings with a leased smile, as if he was overjoyed to see the Jats take so much trouble on his account. If the boy really knew the danger which threatened him— if he was atall conscious of the great peril in which he stood—for these wild and lawlessmen regarded his taking off with as much unconcern as the death of a rabbit—then he possessed wonderful nerve to bear himself so bravely. ‘‘Now get up there, and put your head in that pretty little plaything,” the outlaw com- manded. The boy obeyed, the expression upon his face indicating that he was very much pleased with the entire proceedings. ‘* Now then, answer my questions and answer truthfully, or l’ll have the boxes knocked away, and then up you will go.” ‘‘Up that?” and the idiot pointed to where the last faint light of dying day shone in far above his head. ‘‘ Oh, won’t that be jolly \” ‘** Now, who told you to follow me? ‘** Nobody.” ‘You know me, don’t you?’ sé No. ?? ‘* You know what I am?” ‘*A Cat!” and the boy chuckled as if it was a og ‘* You have seen me in Juanapolis?” sé No,” ‘Yes you have; you know me; confess at once or you will swing!” ‘* No cat there as big as you.” If this was not real, then it was the perfection of dissembling. The outlaw lost his patience. ‘** You infernal hound!” he cried, “‘ don’t try to play with me with any of your cursed non- sense. You know well enough who I am.” The boy shook his head, vacantly. ‘What brought you up here—what were you doing in the canyon, anyway?” ‘*He-haw! he-haw! he-haw!” bellowed the idiot, at the top of his lungs, and so comical was his imitation of a mule’s bray that all the band were convulsed with laughter, the leader excepted. He, wiser than his fellows, believed that the idiot’s visit boded great danger to them. ‘*What do you mean by that infernal noise?” ‘*Mule.” res, i know that it is a mule, but, what of a sé Lost. ” **'W hose mule?” ** Mr. Shannon’s.” **Oh, and you came to the mountains in search of it?” ‘*He-haw, he-haw, he-haw!” and again the idiot imitated a mule so capitally that the out- laws again roared with laughter. But the Wild-cat leader still feared a ruse. ‘* And did the mule come in the canyon?” ‘*T don’t know, do you?” ‘Then why did you come in the canyon?” **'To see if the mule was here.” ‘* But, why did you knock on the rock witha stone.” ‘It was a stick; ILhad a stick in my hand, and I always thump the rocks when | walk along.” Now, this was a common custom enough of this boy, and they all knew it. ‘* But, why did you me-ow like a cat?” ‘‘T heard another cat and I thought it funny. The other cat in the rock said me-ow! and I, an the canyon, said me-ow, me-ow,” and here the idiot imitated the cry of a cat so faithfully that any one would have sworn the sound came from a real cat. ‘‘And you crept into the rock after the cat?” “Yes, it was so funny,” and the boy laughed in his vacant way. The story was probable enough; in fact, it did really seem the hight of improbability, if the boy was spying upon the Wild-cat band, that he should have ventured boldly into their den, and, by so doing, completely place himself in their power. But the leader of the outlaws was not yet satisfied; he had reason to hate the boy, and with that hate a little fear was mingled. The idiot was so different from the rest of mankind; he did such strange things, and acted so queer- ly, that, half the time, the miners believed if he really didn’t possess sense, he had in its place a sort of instinct which answered almost as well. The outlaw leader was perplexed; for the mo- ment he hardly knew how to act; if the boy really was innocent of any intention of prying into the secrets of the Wild-cat band, yet ho it — ae ee ee a eer ew ee a had managed to stumble upon their mountain resort. ‘* What do you say, boys, is it safe to let this fellow go with the secret of our cave in his pos- session?” he asked. ‘‘ What assurance have we that he will not reveal it to the first man he comes across, and it he does that, our cake will be all dough, of course.” The outlaws shook their heads, gravely; de- cidedly, in their opinion, it was not safe to let the idiot go free, The Wild-cat leader saw that the band agreed with him. ‘‘ It is hang, then, boys?” 4 ‘’ Oh, yes,” they replied. ‘‘Yes, hang!’ cried the boy, gleefully. ‘‘Knock away these things and see me go up like a monkey!” It was plain that the poor idiot had little idea of what would happen to him when the boxes were knocked away. ‘‘Kick ’em away, was the outlaw’s unfeeling order, and away went the boxes, But, at the same time, the idiot, who evident- ly had his own ideas about this hanging matter curled upward like a monkey on the rope, an the first thing the outlaws knew he was going up hand over hand, regular sailor fashion, The outlaws swore, for it was plain that he could escape through the hole in the roof, as he had plainly intended to do from the first, that being his idea of what the rope was for. The ‘‘Cats” drew their pistols and blazed away, but, at the first discharge, the concussion ut the candles out, plunging the cave-chamber into utter darkness, and thus securing the es- i of the idiot, beyond a doubt. he boy was off, and with him carried the se- cret of the outlaws’ stronghold. CHAPTER IX. WHO THEY WERE. THE discovery of the murdered man right in the main street of the town of course excited a great deal of talk. For anew camp Juanapolis had got along with remarkable freedom from such affairs. True, there had been rows at times, in the town, after nightfall, but nothing very serious, and what ‘‘ accidents” had ha yened had been in the course of a good f ight, the massacre of Conejos alone excepted. But, that had happened before the settlement of the town, so that it ought not to be counted; and then, too, the road-agents had played the mischief once in a while on the trails to the northward, particularly the stran 7 rip band who called themselves the Wild-cats, and, although it was shrewdly suspected that the ‘**Cats” had a harborage in some mining-camp, yet the men of Juanapolis had no idea that any of the rascals dwelt in Death Valley. Therefore, as said, the death of Kirby was a decided shock to the place, for it was evident the man had been ambushed and killed without his assailant giving him any chance for his life, and if there was anything in this world that the bold free souls who dwelt in Juanapolis despised it was to ‘‘ go for a man when there wasn’t any show for him.” That Kirby was killed by a secret enemy was lain, for nothing upon his person was touched; if robbery had been the reason for the assault naturally the body would have been stripped of everything. During the morning a little group had gath- ered in front of the hotel, and from discussion of the mysterious murder pat fell to talking about the two pilgrims who had found their Me into the camp on the previous night. he town, somehow, thought it was the proper thing to do to kinder adopt these two persons, or at least see that they were well pro- vided for; the town we say had got this idea into its head without taking the trouble to dis- cuss the matter. it was one of those rare cases where everybody thought alike on the same subject and at the same time. ‘I suppose that somebody ought to go up and see them and see how they get along,” old Shannon suggested. ‘* Yes,” responded the doctor, who stood lean- ing against the doorway, *‘that would be the proper thing, it strikes me,” ‘Oh, yes; you want to kinder get them to show their hand, so that we will know what to do for them, for [ suppose the boys will have to ante up a leetle to help them along at first,’ Desmond remarked; he had sauntered up and joined the group just them. ‘The proper thing, gents, is a committee—a committee fur to wait onto ’em and tender ’em the freedom of the town an’ all that sort o’ thing,” the giant from Taos remark- | } boys, and let her sliver!” | oung GOMIEcDOO (e <= \