Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 219 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

14 him an’ flay him! to learn his gang that we mean business!” *That’s so! This slaughterin’ of honest men is about played out! Down with bim!” ‘Down with him! Down with him!” went the cry. passing from lip to lip. Again was the iron lLearted gambler prince in danger of being torn to pieces. But ab this point it suited the purposes of Joe Smediey to interfere. Hold on, boys!” he shouted, way through the crowd. ‘The Leetie Giant! the Leetle Giant! the way, thar!” yent up the sbout. And so potent was the influence of this man, that teces which had been Gistorted’and black with hatred, lighted with a look of cager ad- miration. ’ He sprung upon a stun p, an waved his arms to enjoin silence. Af'er one ringing cheer, the slamor of many tongues ceased. After this evidence of his power the Little Giant looked toward the Queen of the Green Cloth. From the time of her capture she had sat her horse like a marble statue. Upon witnessing the homage shown by the crowd to their cap- tain of Vigilantes, her eyelids drooped, until the long lashes almost brushed her cold, white cheeks. So, avoiding bis glance, she sat perfectly motionless, passionless, unreadable. Joe Smediey bit bis lip, with a feeling very nearly aki to anger against this statuesque beauty. ‘* Sbe cares nothing for me—that’s plain!” he mused, savagely. ‘* But does she care for him, either? I believe she is utterly without a heart.” Turning he addressed the crowd: ‘* Boys, this is no sight for that lady. Take her away ” He shot another burning glance toward her. She wus led away without looking et him. Her last glince was toward [ron Despard. But such aglance! What did it signify? It puzzied Joe Smedley. It seemed remorseful in its tenderness. Tron Despard took leave of her with a glance. He did not seem to be disappointed that she be- traye:l no ordinary womanly emotion. Indeed, he looke i after her proudly. But she was gone. Then met the eyes of those two Titans, whose struggle had rent Hell Hole with strife and made her one street reek with human blood! Iron Despard’s had a sullen light of intelli- ence in them, The Little Giant’s were sneeringly defiant. **Tnen you are at tho bottom of this?’ said the ov tal prince. ‘*‘You are keen at divining,” replied Joe Smedlev, with a smile. **Avd you have come forward now, to let me know your enmity before I passed out.” ** Keoo again, for you!” ‘Why did you set others upon me, instead of facing me likea man, unless, indeed, you are the coward you appear to be?” Still the Little Giant smiled, unmoved. ‘*That’s my affair,” he said. for you to know that I chose to remove you from my path without directly raising my hand against you. As for your taunt, it can- not reach me. The men of Hell Hole know whether I dare meet you, if I chose to,” ‘*One question more, if you please. How am I in your way? Inever saw you until a week ago. The Little Giant hesitated. Then, quickly bending forward, he whispered into Iron Des- pard’s ear: ‘* You possess the woman I covet !” Into that fierce whisper he threw all the sav- age disappointment of his failure to win a single ance of encouragement from the Queen of the reen Cloth. Then, waving his hand to the mob, he shouted: ‘Boys, this is none of my funeral. Go ahead with your circus!” And he leaped from the stump. As he thus merged into the crowd, Iron Des- pard called after bim: ‘My death will avail you nothing. By fair means or foul, the goal will be as inaccessible to you as before. The fortress can protect itself.” But, at this point, the speech which was in- telligible only to him to whom it was addressed, was drowned in the yell with which the mob, with Moll Pritchard’s Right Bower at their head, again took possession. “Stand from im front, thar!” shouted the would-be executioner, and the crowd parted, leaving a clear avenue before the horse. elbowing his CVar Somethin’s got to be done ‘It is enough © Despard, the Duelist. The splendid animal, Iron Despard’s own (the same that had borne him and his bride from the death-trap which saw the annihilation of Cap- tain Mask’s band), trembled with excitement, pawed the ground, tossed his head and snorted, while his biood-red nostrils dilated, and his fiery eyes rolled in their sockets. It required three men—one on either side and one immediately in front—to keep him in place. “Stand ready!” shouted Moll Pritchard’s Right Bower. ‘Ready she am!” responded his assistants in one voice. But at this moment, when those holding. the horse were about to free it, and others at either flank were ready at the word of command to prod the animal with their bowies to goad it to that desh which would launch its master into eternity, the air wus picrced by a succession of shrill screams, evidently from the throats of women. The mob turned from its bloody work, and from lip to lip passed the ominous cry: “Wire! Fire! Fire!” From ascore of shanties in various parts of ihe camp rolled upward into the night dense volumes of black smoke, reddened by lurid flames. The whole town was on fire. Private interest coming uppermost, the crow meade a rush, each man toward his own shanty. Then rosea different cry. Down the road, on the wings of the wind, came the Skeleton Avengers! CHAPTER XIII. THE LAST DUEL. So this was the retaliation of the vampire band—they had set fire to the town, to revenge the burning of Iron Despard’s saloon. And now they were making their descent, perhaps to wipe out at one fell swoop all the enemies of the gambler prince. If they were all as terrible in battle as he, what earthly power could withstand them? None! In wild panic the miners rushed away into the darkness, leaving their cabins to burn; for was not life more precious? With scarcely a pause beneath the death-tree, the Skeleton Avengers swept through the burning camp. But Iron Despard was not the ay one of mortal form who rode away with them. Beside him rode the Queen of the Green pio and further back was the Little Giant, in bonds, As they rode onward, their shadows were cast before by the lurid glare of the burning camp. That night Hell Hole was wiped from the face of the earth. The hoofs of the horses ridden by the three of undoubted humanity gave forth a sharp, metallic ring, as they struck sparks from the flinty wav. Those of the spirit-steeds sounded dull and muffled. Iron Despard, the Little Giant, and the Queen of the Green Cloth, no doubt all expemenced strange sensations, feeling themselves in very questionable company. This uneasiness was in no wise diminished, when, in the depths of the mountains, the cavalcade suddenly came to a balt, and the Skeleton Band vanished, leaving the astonished mortals in black darkness. A moment later the Little Giant felt his bonds severed by invisible hands. While he was yet wondering at this strange proceeding the canyon reverberated with a deafening crash, that was echoed and re-echoed from crag to crag, like thunder; and, as if out of the very heavens, shot downward a ball of fire, until it struck the top of a pine where it burned steadily, illuminating the whole place with almost the brightness of noonday. A cry of astonishment and dismay escaped the Little Giant, as he made haste to use bis eyes and look about him. He, Iron Despard, and the Queen of the Green Cloth sat their horses near together; but there was no sign of the Skeleton Avengers who had brought them hither. But in their place was company not less ghastly. About in a circle hung the seven men whom the Skeleton Avengers had so terribly slain. One and all were suspended by the wrists, their clothes sodden with blood, their heads henging upon their breasts, and that look of horror frozen upon their faces, just as they had been found one after another; while at four oppo- site points in the circ’e stood against trees the four men who had fallen im duel with Iren Despard. ¢ nr a SS a es On the ground, ranged suggestively side by side, were a pair of revolvers, a pair of bowie- knives, and a pair of rapiers. The Little Giant shuddered, as he gazed around on his eleven deadcompanions. Of that band, linked by a deed far back in the past, he alone remained alive. Were these the actual bodies, disinterred, and brought to this p av. to confound him; or were they only apparitions conjured by some supernatural power? He felt his flesh creep! Turning, be looked upon Iron Despard. What manner of man was he? ‘* So this is your work?” he asked. ‘¢ No,” replied the gambler prince. ‘‘] am as greatly surprised as you appear to be.” Then you or your agents did not kill these men, and then bring them here to unnerve me—if I understand the suggestion of these weapons?’—pointing to the revolvers, bowie- knives and rapiers. “Three of these men came to their death by my hand, having forced cuels upon me, as you know. One staked his life against mine, lost, and shot himself. Further than this. 1 know no more of this strange proceeding than you do?” ‘“ And you are not one of this Skeleten Band?’ ‘* Decidedly not.” ‘“Then what does this all mean?’ ‘‘T might ask you the same question,” ‘‘One thing is certain,” said the Little Giant, glaring about with a defiant frown. ‘ These bodies were put here to dauut me. But 1 will rove that I have nerve equal to a severer test. Thatever the power at work here, / defy it!” ‘“* 'W hether th ‘y be men or devis,” said Iron Despard,‘‘ is a question for future investigation. Meanwhile, let us avail ourselves of that which lies nearest at hand. Friendly or adverse, they have at least anticipated our most inmediate want. For that, due thanks.” Leaping from his horse, he exsmined the weapons which lay side by side on the ground, ‘These are of unquestionable excellenee, each of its kind,” he said. ‘‘Tbere is nothing to do but to make a selection. Ccme, sir!—we are of one mind, I think.” Not to be tardy in accepting this challenge, the Little Giant swung his leg over the pc mmel of bis saddle and leaped lightly to the ground. ‘‘The question how these came lere 80 op- portunely, will interest but one of us,” he said, sign ficantly. While examining. the weapons in bis turn he thought rapidly. Iron Desparo had proved himself a dead shot with the revolver end irre- sistible v ith the bowie-knife. He, Joe Smedley, had learned to fence in the Mexican service, vw hither bis adventuresome life bac carried bim, He was somewhat out of practice; but Jron Despard might krow next to nothing about the rapier. A slight familiarity with the foils is the most an American is likely to be able to boast. Here, then, was his chance. ‘‘Here as an opportunity to vary the mon- otony of Western dueling,” he said, ** let us try the rapier.” He spoke in an cff-band, matter-cf-course way, though he knew that he was <« utraaae the spirit of the code as understood in the West, where the choice of weapons is practically limited to the revolver and bowie-knife, not one man in a thousand being supposed to know any- thing about the use of a sword. Iron Lespard “ dropped to this little game,” but he smiled quietly He bad crcssea swords with the students at Heidelberg, and hed been pointed out in Paris as the men in whom the terrible Count Ugo had met bis match. As the Little Giant presented the sv crd-hilts, he took one at random, Meanwhile the Queen of the Green Cloth sat her horse withcut a word cr a sign of emo, tion. Iron Despard had avoided locking al her, The Little Giant, who had watched lim like q hawk, knew why. ‘‘ He does rot suspect that she knovwsof my love,” be reflected. ‘‘ He por) oses tc muke na reference to the matter, when lem—” He stopped, with a thrill, at the cmimous word. He glanced at the woman. So cold, so un- moved. would she care which of them lay dead when the morning son awakened all the werld else to a new life. Having thrown their coats aside, the Little Giant appeared in a dark-blue wcolen shirt, Iron Despard in a white muslin one. ‘This was a disadvantage to the latter, es, by reason of it, his body presented a more conspicucus mark egainst the dark background of the shadowed woods that surrounded the space illuminated by EOMMICC OOO) cS