Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 207 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

eo Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. a ge re ee eee ieee dagger of his own and plunged it through the aper as if it had been the heart of his bitterest oe. All the time he kept muttering: ‘“‘ Jam here !” In appearance this man bore a striking re- semblance to the leader of the mountain men: he had the same physique, the black beard, the same gray eyes and bushy eyebrows. But there was one marked difference. This person had but one hand! If he was thus crip- pled, he carried two revolvers; as if to his left wrist a good hand hung. : ‘“‘The right hand by hokey!” he exclaimed, {picking up the dead hand in whose palm gaped ‘the wounds made by the Avenger’s dirk, ‘‘I didn’t think, Monte, when we parted company in the Gold Range two months ago, thet when I took yer hand ag’in thar’d be no man nigh it. The last words I said to you war: ‘Keep an eye open fur Dagobert.’ wonder if he did steal a march on you, Monte? Ef you're livin’ we’ve got two hands left fur ’im! Two ov the best hands in Arizony. He took my left hand because it war nighest my heart; an’ yer right one because it war the hand that choked him in the haunted valley ov the Basaltic Buttes. Ho! ho! Monte, we must take both his to git even. An’ while we’re at it we’ll take suthin’ dearer to him than his killin’ hands—his heart!” The man took a knife and scooped out a bit of earth until he had made an excavation deep enough to receive the hand, and having buried it he went back to the horse. A moment later he was again in the saddle and riding slowly down the valley trail that led to the spot where the blackened body of Monte still incumbered the ground. The keen-eyed horse noticed it before his mas- ter, and started back with a snort of terror. “What is it?’ exclaimed the man getting down. ‘‘Somebody what needs plantin’, thet’s sartain. Mebbe it’s—” Ie He stopped, for he had seen the disfigured ace. ‘*He wouldn’t take a good photograph now whoever he is,” he went on. ‘If he’s got two hands—only one, by Jupiter! It’s Monte!” The man dropped the arm he had partly — and sprung erect with the roar of a wild ast. ‘* Monte, an’ killed by him /” he cried. ‘‘ Now Dagobert, look out. I had almost quit huntin’ fur you, although you took my hand, You took it fair. I didn’tsqueal; but hyar lies the biggest heart in Arizon y. I don’t care ef Monte war a half-breed—ef his mother war a Pimo squaw. He never shook a friend, nor stole a keerd from the deck. He watched me through the small- x on the Gila, and fought his way through ivin’ bowies to me in Mohave. He carried me three days on his back through the snows of Colorado. He warmy pard, an’ with Mohave Bill thet means everything!” The man paused to get his breath; he was a statue of passion, a whirlwind of rage. ‘*T sw’ar, Monte, to foller the killer!” he cried. “TI hunt’im from this moment like the wolf hunts the deer, but with greater hatred. I hevn’t much education, but [ve l’arnt how to avenge my pards, an’ l’m at the head ov the class when it comes to killin’. He sha’n’t escape Mohave Bill. I’m his livin’ judgment, an’ Pll find ’im ezsurely ez death will. I came byar to find Carlos, but I find you, Monte. I hope I may never see the cap’n until I hev settled ac- counts with Dagobert. By Jupiter! I will not take his hand until I hev avenged you. Never!” The twilight had left the spot and the stars twinkled above the oath-taker, while his wild words cut theevening air. He stood over the body in the path, holding aloft in a tragic man- ner the bowie which he had drawn from the dead hand at the cabin. “You kin sleep in peace, fur I will find ’im! A foe never escapes Mohave Bill. You know that, pard, fur we’ve hunted men together. Some ov the trails war long ones, but I allus reached the end, allus!” The Avenger drew the body into some heavy mountain bushes near by, and when he came out his lips were clinched and there was a cold glitter in his gray orbs. Without a word he sprung again to saddle and resumed his journey, but this time he went faster than before for the strong-limbed horse bore him rapidly over the ground. He seemed to know where to find the man he wanted to meet, for he dashed like a pursuing spirit through valley and canyon, and made his steed leap mountain creeks wbich at other times he would have avoided. On, on he went, until the clattering of his horse’s hoofs filled a certain gulch with echoes that might reveal his presence te lurking foes. a Here he brought bis steed down to a slower gait, exclaiming, as he wiped his bronzed fore- head with his great sleeve: ‘* Td like to ride fast til) [found him. Monte won’t sleep just right till I git the dead drop on the hand-stealer. But Vit eit it. The hull world can’t cheat me out ov it!” Day was breaking as the man-bunter en- tered a gulch whose walls towered several hun- dred feet above his slouched hat. On either side were numerous fissures like the mouths of caves and some were large enough to hold a company of men. Not a few of these suspi- cious places were half concealed by bushes that take root only in the canyons of the South- west. Mohave Bill did not seem to notice them. He kept his gaze straight ahead like a rider at a race. All at once his steed uttered a snort and shied, and the next moment six or eight half- naked figures leaped tiger-like from several of these dark niches, and sprung at his horse’s head. ** Injuns!” keep me from it!” The red pests of the canyon were at his ani- mal’s bit; their arms were trying to drag him from the saddle. Instantly the reins fell from the man’s only hand and were caught by a little contrivance on the front of the saddle from which nobody on the ground could tear them. At the same time two vigorous kicks shook several would-be captors loose, and the Aven- ger was shooting his way clear with a ponder- ous Colt which he wielded like a toy pistol. ‘*Stop Mohave Bill? stop the earth!” he shouted, as several Indians staggered back from the flashes of that weapon of death. *‘’m on a business thet mpustn’t interfered with. Vl fight my way to my man ef yer hull mang tribe oppose me. C’lar the track! I’m deat on his pale hoss. Stop Mohave Bill? Stop lightnin’!” A dozen Indians leaped at this juncture to their comrades’ assistance but vainly. The ex- cited horse, struck madly by the madman’s spurs, dashed through the barriers of flesh, and ohave Bill, swaying from side to side crushed more than one head with the empty, but club- bed revolver. He scattered them like chaff, and sent a laugh of defiance over his shoulder as the ar- rows sent after him fell short of their intended victim. Beyond the gulch he stopped and turned his face toward his battle-field. His eyes blazed like a soldier’s after rid.ng safely through a storm of shot and shell. He rose in his broad Mexican stirrups, took off his hat and brought it down with emphasis on the strong neck of his gallant horse. ‘Stop Mohave Bill? Stop a comet!” he cried till the mountain woods around and above him repeated the words. ‘Me an’ my hoss ar’ a pair o’ trumps; ain’t we, erties, Nothin’ stops me this side ov Dagobert; Injuns, grizzlies, earthquakes!— nothin’!” Mohave Bill was an enemy worth having. He was worthy to grapple with the Man with two Names. rated the man. ‘‘ They can’t agobert. They’re fools to try CHAPTER IX. THE REVOLVER STILL SPEAKS. THE Indians did not follow Mohave Bill. Six lay prostrate on the ground, victims of his unerring aim and the strength of his arm. He had passed through their midst like a thunderbelt, or like a demon of death who leaves his mark behind. The arrows sent after him were badly aimed; for once, rage blinded, the Navajoes had shot at random, and the flesh of the slayer was untouched. At the end of the gulch as we have seen Dagobert’s foe was giving vent to his ex- uberant feelings. His scarlet enemies mizht have stolen down the ravine and shot him, but they did not think of such a thing until he had turned and darted away once more. The six bodies were carried into one of the niches and the rest of thered gold league formed a group in the gulch. There they beld their right hands up and swore to hunt down the SEF who had reduced the numbers of their and. Meanwhile, Mohave Ball was riding on. He was no longer dashing on through the morning light with nothing to gwide hima, but certain impressions on the moentain road teld him that a number of horses tad lately passed over it. He noticed the hoof-prints as he rode on, and seemed to recognize them, although they did not differ from those usually made by a company of cavalry borses. ‘* What am I follerin’ Carlos fer?’ hesuddenly asked himself aloud. ‘*‘Oh, I promised to see him ez soon ez I got buck tothese parts, but I might hunt Dagobert first an’ avenge Monte. Thar war three ov us once; but thar’s only two now with three g. od hands between us—not enough to wear two p’ar ov gloves. I'll kinder break my word by goin’ on till I find Carlos and the tigers thet foller him. Won’t his eyes blaze when I tell ’im about Monte? *¢ He’!] leave the gold trail even ef he’s nigh the mountain, and swear to hunt Dagobert. But he sha’n’t touch a h’ar ov bis head. He’s mine!” An hour later twelve men drew rein and stopped in a wooded valley to listen to the echo of a shrill neigh that had caused them to lift their heads. ‘* Captain Flash!” said more than one. ‘* No!” answered their leader under his breath, ‘Tt is not Dagobert, but Mohave Bill.” The last speaker was not mistaken for all at once a horseman appeared on the side of a mountain above them. His figure was outlined against the blue sky. ‘* Mohave! I knew it!” exclaimed the captain of the Twelve, and he signaled the elevated person with his hat. An answering signal came down the moun- tain and the horseman disapeared. Ten minutes later he appeared in the valley and in full view of the men who were waiting impatiently for him. He rode up to the band with the old icy gleam in his gray eyes, and was met by the rough leader with a hearty, ‘‘ How ar’ ye, Mohave?’ The salutation was scarcely returned, and when Mohave Bill refused the bronzed hand thrust forward for a shake, Carlos started and gave him a look of wonder. ‘*My hand touches no livin’ man till it touches Dagobert!” he said. ‘*‘He took the best hand Monte had last night.” What?” ‘** He nailed it to the door ov the shanty with the knife thet cut it off.” The eyes of Carlos fairly blazed. He seemed about to leap from the saddle at the man whe was talking. ‘‘T saw the hand. [ found Monte. His face war rather homely, er what thar war left ov it. I planted hand an’ karkiss. Mohave Bill ar’ a livin’ judgment; death in the saddle.” The whirlwind of rage was again moving in the Avenger’s breast. ‘We saw ’im last night!” Carlos said. ‘** Monte?” ** No, Dagobert.” ‘An’ you did not kill him?” ‘* He had the drop on us.” ‘On you, Carlos?—on yer tigers?” cried Mo- have Bill, incredulous. ‘‘Tell me thet ag’in, Mebbe I did not understand you. I hope not. The drop on you, pard?”’ ‘On me—6n all of us!” replied Carlos, grat- ing his teeth. ‘*'You ought to be shot!” ‘*Mebbe so, but, Bill, you warn’t thar an’ you don’t know—” ‘Don’t tell me!” flashed Monte’s Avenger. ‘‘He got the drop on you ; thet’senough, He'll never git it on Mohave!—never!”. Carlos smiled half-contemptuously and his eyes seemed tosay: ‘Just wait, boaster.” ‘* But we kin stand the advantage Dagobert got ov us last night since we’ve found the moun- tain ov gold.” ‘*Found it? How?” ‘*By Dagobert’s pard, the boy what we’ve watched fer four years. Watchin’ an’ waitin’ pays, Mchave.” Mohave Bill did not hear Carlos’s observation for his eyes had singled Navajo Nick out from among the horsemen a few paces behind his friend. ‘“ Ah!” suddenly parted his lips as he went forward. ‘* Don’t touch the boy! He’s worth his weight in gold !’ cried Carlos, starting. ‘* Never you mind, pard.” Monte’s Avenger went on with his eyes riveted on our young gold hunter who met his glare with undaunted gaze. : When near enough, Mohave Bill leaned for- ward and bis great hand descended on Nick’s shoulder like a tiger’s paw. “So you ar’ Dagobert’s pard!” he hissed, madly. ‘* Did you touch Monte last night?” ‘* Monte?’ asked our hero, to whom the name was new, GOMIIcd oo (G Se ‘2: BS v t com