Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 219 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

Sole ated z ~—- --—- Despard, the Duelist. Despard, the Duelist; The Mountain Vampires. A Sequel to ** Captain Mask, the Lady Road-Agent,” BY PHILIP 8S. WARNE, AUTHOR OF ‘*‘ PATENT LEATHER JOR,” ‘‘ CAPTAIN ARIZONA,”’ ‘“*‘CAPTAIN MASK, THE LADY ROAD-AGENT,” *‘ ALWAYS ON HAND,” ETC. CHAPTER I. THE SKELETON AVENGERS. ‘*MusHA! musha! The saints betune us and hairrum! Faith, it’s the divil’s own band, just!” ‘** Cheese it, cully!—you’re off your base!” But the speaker’s voice was husky and tremu- lous, though he affected to scorn the other’s fears. They were—F oxy, a little rishman with fiery red hair and beard and a particolored com- plexion, the purple of whisky-bibbing dividing the field with great yellow freckles; and Tidy Tip, an Englishman, who owed his sobriquet to pt neatness, not of his person, but of his pugi- m. Cowering behind a bowlder, Foxy hid his face in his hat, while Tidy Tip stared over the top of the rock with eyes that ee grew wider and wilder with superstitious dread. Around was a wild chaos of crags and chasms, detached bowlders, lightning-riven tree-trunks, tangled brushwood, vines and creepers—a wrecked world beneath, and overhead a lower- ing sky reverberating with wrathful mutterings of thunder. Amid these wild surroundings, made more. terrible by the gloom of night, appeared the strangest spectacle that ever thrilled the soul of man with icy fear. But, before we enter upon the action of our story, a word of introduciion to the scene of the strange adventures I am about to relate, and to the men whose superstition and unbridled pas- sions made them possible, The discoverer having domiciled himself in a eave, the camp formed when the rush came was at first called ‘‘ Hole-in-the-hill,” soon to be transformed into a ‘ handle ” better adapted to the Western grip, and far more suitable, if we consider the social status of the place to wit:— ‘*Hell Hole.” Boasting more saloons, dance- houses and gambling lay-outs to thesquare inch than any other campin the mountains, Hell Hole soon became famous, or infamous, as “ the blamedest, onhealthiest outfit this side o’ sun- down,” a‘ batch o’ stiffs” every morning before breakfast being the reguiar thing. Then the virtue of the place crystallized into a Vigilance Committee, with Joe Smediey at its head; some half-dozen of the ‘‘ worst pills” were ‘sent up a tree; a score or sO were made to *‘ git;’ and Hell Hole settled down to those *‘ squar’” fights the propriety of which no man questioned. But recently had occurred several murders of unprecedented brutality, and shrouded in a mystery of perpetrator and motive, which threw the camp into a fever of apprehensive excitement, all of which was to be Tonight to the light of day through a series of events as strange as they werestartling—to which let us procecd, our opening scene being a mile from the camp. The spectacle which filled Tidy Tip and Foxy with such freezing fear was a troop of what had all the appearance of being jleshless skeletons ! —their bones self-luminous, with a dull, white glare, like d-ath-lights, while their sightless eyes were but black caverns in their horrible grinning skuils! From their shoulders, as they walked, de- pended the sornber folds of trailing black man- tles, which, parting in front, formed backgrounds } against whicb their strangely luminous anato- mies stood cut in bold relief, In bis left band each skeleton bore a ghastl torch constructed of the inverted top of a skull sawn off on a line with the brows and mounted on the end of a thigh-bone. The bowl-shaped hollow seemed filled with a dead white light, though there was no flame. In his right hand each bore a luminous spear, or javelin, apparently formed of human bones spliced together, In the mid t of this dread escort walked one whose humanity was unmistakable, No crea- ture of the air was he, but a real flesh-and-blood man, dressed in the ordinary garb of a miner. His face, seen in the unearthly glare diffused by the bones of those about him, and by their strange flameless torches, was awful in its white horror—enough of itself to chill the stoutest heart with fear. His eyes were fixed and staring, his mouth open, disclosing his glittering teeth. Halting, the ghostly band stood round the | helpless and scarcely conscious wretch, holding their torches high above their heads and the y0ints of their lances almost in contact with his Body all round, on a line with his heart. Then one, who seemed to be the chief, spoke in hollow tones, with that peculiar liquid sound produced by the beating of an Indian drum: ‘*Hear ye!—hear ye!—hear ye! Oh, SKELETON AVENGERS of crime! Shall the wicked go un- whipped of justice?’ Like the tolling of a knell came the reply, in prolonged, dismal cadences, as if it were the wind moaning in their cavernous breasts: ** No-o-o! No-o-o! No-o-o!” ‘What requital is meet for the despoiler of purity, the slayer of innocence?” “* De-e-ath | De-eath! De-e-ath!” ‘* James Kane, you have been weighed in the balance and found wanting! Im vengeance for a woman’s blighted life and broken heart we exact the expiation of your crime! And may God have merey on your guilty soul!” ‘* So-0-0 mo-o-ote it be-e-e !” Thereupon the chief waved his strange torch te the right and to the left. Two of the skeletons, evidently preinstructed, threw lassoes over the tops of two saplings grow- ing on opposite sides of the road. The trees being bent toward each other, a lasso was tied to each of the prisoner’s wrists, and by the strain he was lifted clear of the ground. ‘‘Now, in the name of outraged justice, strike!” cried the chief, his voice terrible in its implacable condemnation. tanding about him, and throwing the light of their strange torches upon him, the Avengers lunged the ‘keen points of their javelins into his body from every side, again and again and again, until he bled from a hundred gaping wounds, keeping time to thier thrusts with the rise and fall of a dismal, wailing sound, like the moaning of the wind in the winter forest; and the burden of their weird, Druidic chant was the ominous word— ** Death !” A gag prevented the doomed wretch from making crag and canyon re-echo with his agonized shrieks. Soon his writhing ceased, and he hung lim and motionless, his head drooping upon his breast. A sound of crackling twigs suddenly arrested the attention of the Skeleton Avengers, and a deathlike hush fell upon them. Without warning to his companion, by word or sound, Tidy Tip had fainted and fallen to the ground. Asif by magic, the skeleton band disappeared, leaving the spot, lately so weirdly illuminated, now wrapped in utter darkness; while Foxy heard arushing sound, like the rapid flight of monster birds, approaching him. , Frightened out of his wits, the Irishman uttered a yell of dismay, and bounded away with the agility of a frightened hare, giving never a thought to the companion he left un- conscious at the mercy of these horrid monsters. Down the glen he rushed, torn by briers, which, in his superstitious terror, he believed to be ghost-hands clutching at bim; tumbling over rocks and fallen trees, but up and on, un- conscious of the bruises; panting, staggering, groping in the darkness, but on! on! before those pursuing phantoms, until, in accordance with the ghost-lore that the devil and his imps cannot pass the middle of a stream, he plunged heels over head into the mountain *‘ run” whose waters further down washed the glittering dross of Hell Hole. CHAPTER II. THE CAPTAIN OF VIGILANTES. ‘¢ HoorRAY, hooray! hooray!” Down the mountain road rushed a brown- bearded and red-shirted miner, swinging his hat above his head and cheering in wild enthusi- sm. ‘The Leetle Giant's a-comin’, boys! Hooray! Whoo-o0-oop! Tiga-a-AH!” ee sss ss... Pick and pan were dropped, and the shout | caucht up and passed on from lip to lip, and | thie { 5 P P | sion of all emotions within their scope, a W echoed and reechoed by the towering cliffs, until the balsamic air fairly quivered with the | ringing ovation. Then from every direction set a tide of sturdy life toward a common centet-The open space before Billy Williamg’s saloon, Such running !—such leaps over rock and bush and fallen tree-trunk!—such jolly rivalry! No dainty gentlemen they; but strong-limbed, rough-and-ready sons of nature, with the soil of mother earth on their garment:, the bronze of the honest sun on bared arms and breasts, ard the sweat of rugged toil on their brows. ‘‘Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! A-a-a-a-ah !” And, followed by a cloud of dust, a single horseman dashed into their midst, and leaped from the saddle. Such band-shaking!—such hearty slaps on the back—such boisterous salutations and questions, without particular significance, except as ex- pressions of good-will! Had the object of this roistering welcome possessed the arms of a Brahman idol and the myriad tongues of rumor he would bave found use for them all. This gallant young captain of Vigilantes, the idol of the camp which he ruled with almost despotic sway, had those qualities which most find favor in the eyes of rugycd mcuntain men —an athletic, muscular development; fair, wavy hair falling to bis shculders, afier tha Western fashion; finely-chis: led features, askin as fresh, smooth, and pink-tinted at the clicels as a girl’s; and blue eyes, lcoking dauntiess, de fiant courage. After an ovation which made up in entLusi- asin what it may have lacked in oiler rcspects Joe Smedley emerged from the saloon, v Len the first object that met his geze was a queen- like equestrienne arrayed in a flowi) g green riding-habit, wearing a broad brinsmed felt hat with along trailing green plume, and mounted on a superb milk-white filly. A moment. the eyes of the bewildering!y beautiful creature rested upon his, as she recog- nized in him the hero of the hour, Then ske rode on down the «treet, every motion of her graceful body conforming to the rhythmic p!cy of her spirited steed. | ‘““Good Heavens!” was the breathless ejacu- lation of the Little Giant. ‘‘ Who is that? ‘* That?’ replied Hoss Johnson, who was at his elbow. ‘*That’s the Queen of the Green Cloth,” “The foneen of the Green Cloth?’ ‘Tron Despard’s woman.” ** And who is Iron Despard?” ‘Why, thunder an’ lightnin’, old man! I for- got that you was jest out o’ the dark ages, Sence you’ve been gone, this hyar town Leas taken a mighty big straddle in importance, We've got a new faro lay-out—nothin’ snide, but a slar-up Frisco outfit, Al; and this beauty is to slide the pastebogrds. I seen it down ct Nugget City; an’ it jist takes the cake over any- thing I ever see this side o’ the Golden Gate, It’s im-mense! And you're jist in time fur the openin’, which it takes place tc-night.” Hoss Johnson did vot notice that the Lit‘le Giant bad turned ceathly pale at sight of the equestrienne, and that his voice sounded hcarsce and constrained, nor that the lady was equa! y affected. Joe Smedley walked abruptly away, takirg the direction opposite to that in which the Queen of the Green Cloth had gone. He did not notice a woman, who, while he was in the saloon, had stood in the doorway of one of the cabins, flushed and trembling with eager expectancy, which turned into pale jeal- ousy as she saw the impression made upon bim by the fair ¢cquestrienne. When he turned away, without so much as a glance in her direction, she clutched her breasts, with the nervous gesture and sharp, inarticu- late cry of pain of an intense, passionate na ture. ‘‘He does not deceive me; he is going tc ee / A glance, and I am forgotten! Ah! Ah ! Again those cries, so like the utterances of an animal, as she follows bis receding figure until it disappears from sight.. Then she rushes into the house and cowers on the floor, with her dress thrown over her head. Is this the beginiape of a tragedy? She was right in ber surmise as to the Little Giant’s destination. An hour later, having made a detour to secure this interview unsts- pected by any one in Ilell Hole, he stood in the mountain road, directly in the path of the Queen of the Green Cloth. She was glorious in her perfect beauty of cut- Jine and coloring, and in her bigh courage, Her eyes, of that gray which hold the expy\*- flashed with proud questioning. ‘Well?’ said the Little Giant. ‘* Well?’ was the unyielding retort, | JOO €oim (E