Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 222 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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eae es ye ee -+ — es - -_--— Grit, the Bravo Sport. . — ee ne eS Once more the gambler dealt the cards, and | Then again the place seemed as strong asa once more the game was played and won by the stranger. ‘“There is some cheat in your playing, said the gambler. ‘‘No, the only reason you don’t win-.is be- cause I watch you so closely you cannot cheat.” ‘Senor, do you mean to insult me?” gambler’s face looked threatening. ‘Don’t let us quarrel], but play; try another game,” was the cool retort. The gambler simply nodded his head, the game was played, and once more he lost. ‘*— guess you are overmatched this time, Allan Arleigh.” With the words there was a revolver muzzle thrust full in the face of the gambler. He saw he was caught, yet not a muscle of his face moved, as he smilingly replied: ‘“'You seem to know me, senor.” ‘San. Vea.” ‘¢-You have the advantage.” ‘‘ And intend to hold it.” ‘Oh! I mean in knowing me.” “T think not, for you know me, too, only you don’t expect the grave to give up its dead, and thus far you do not suspect me.” ‘‘ One of my victimes?’ sneered the gambler. ‘* An intended one.” ‘‘Ha! I should know that voice.” ‘You shall know whoI am, sir; but if you move you die. “] have here with me in this room a num- ber of good Americans in disguise, and as many more Mexicans to aid them, and I have come here, with papers made out on both sides of the Rio Grande to effect your capture.” The gambler slightly paled at these words; but the smile never left his face, as he asked: ‘‘ Well, who the devil are you?” The stranger, still keeping the muzzle of his revolver in the face of the gambler, and un- heeding the movements and cries of the sway- ing, excited crow4, slowly raised his hand to his head and face, and then removed quickly his hat, beard and wig. ‘‘Good God! Roy Brandt !” ‘‘That is my name, Allan Arleigh,” and the young man gazed into the face of the gambler with a look of triumph he could not conceal, for he saw that the man grew livid and trem- bled visibly before him. “‘Now, Allan Arleigh, you are my prisoner. ‘¢ Show yourselves, men !” The order in ringing tones caused fully two score men to press forward, half of them Mexi- cans, balf Americans, and at their head was a young officer of the army of Mexico, for his command was composed of soldiers. ‘ Senor Diaz, we have the lion now, so let us go to his den,” said Roy Brandt, to the offi- cer. “ As you please, Senor Brandt. I have this place under guard, so no one can escape, and we will carry the chief with us,” answered the Mexican. Al once was Allan Arleigh placed in double irons, led from the saloon, and, with the others, mounted in haste, setting off at a rapid gallop, and leaving the remaining occupants of the drinking-shop lost in utter amazement at what had occurred. 4% . bP] Sir, CHAPTER XVI. A BITTER BLOW. In the strong old hacienda in the mountains, in her comfortable room, sat Edith Arleigh, the wife of the master of the house. Her face was paler than when she was taken there five months before, and it was evident that she had been a sufferer, for there was no look of joy upon her face. Around her was every evidence of comfort, nay, almost luxury, and with one she loved she should have been happy there, it seemed. But strange doubts of that one had come creeping into her heart. She wondered why he had so many herds- men constantly about the hacienda. She wondered why there were so few cattle for them to look after. and the | fortress, Again, at night she heard wild carousals in the wing where the men lived, Her husband seemed to be held in perfect terror by all at the hacienda. Often ho was absent for days from his home. Sometimes he would return with vast sums of money. Again, he never rode away without a bodye guard, He had told her that he had sent her plead- ing letters to her father, to come and visit her, and see how happy she was in her new home, But no reply came, and no father came, Several times she had heard from the chat- tering servants that her husband had deliber- ately shot down some one of the herders for some trifling act. What did it all mean? Such were the thoughts that crowded through the brain of poor Edith, and sent the sharp blade of sorrow to her heart. ‘“ A messenger to see the senora!” said a peon woman entering. ‘What, a messenger from my husband? ‘‘Has aught. befallen him of harm?’ asked, quickly rising. **T know not, senora; shall I send the man to you?’ ‘Yes, Lita, send him at once,” Into the room soon after came a tall man, clad in buckskin, and with long .hair and beard. There was that about him which told Edith that he was no ordinary man, and she said politely: ‘Well, senor, you bear a message for me?” ‘*T have news for you, senora,”’ ‘‘My husband?” she eagerly asked. “Ts well, senora,’’ Edith gave a sigh of relief, and the man, advancing closer to her said: ‘*Senora, what I have to tell you will not be pleasant for you to hear.” ‘*Do you come from my father?” ‘“No, senora; but I beg to ask you if you heard not, before your flight with Allan Arleigh that he was a gautbler, and all that was bad?” ‘“What right have vou to seek me here, senor, and thus speak of my husband?” she said haughtily. ‘“T do so for your good, as the rumors regarding your husband are true, and because I would not see you suffer with him,” “Tn Heaven’s name what do you mean?” and Edith sunk back in her chair. ‘Will you hear me, senora?” ‘Yes, for your words and manner prove to me you have not come here to play an idle part,” “I have come here to serve you, to save you, senora. ‘Allan Arleigh has deceived you from the first. “He fled from his boyhood home on ac- count of wild deeds done then, and has gone down the ladder of critmne ever since. “This home he lives in he gained by mar- riage and murder,’ “ Marriage and murder?” gasped the woman. “Yes, he married the young daughter of its proprietor, then killed him, and finding out what her husband was, his young wife took her own life.” ‘‘T shall not be such a fool,” was the grim, bitter reply. “From this ranch he began his operations upon American soil, crossing the Rio Grande and raiding upon the homes of his own country- men, his band becoming known as the Bravos of the Chaparral.”’ ‘“No, no, no! he cannot be the chief of that band of cutthroats,” cried Edith, who had been spellbound at the words of her visitor, not being able to deny the fearful charges made against the man she called husband. “Allan Arleigh, senora, has been the secret leader of that band.” she 9 “T cannot believe it, and I will hear no more against him. ‘* Who are you that dares come here to my -_-_ —— -~-— house to so accuse my husband?’ and she arose angrily to her feet. ‘‘One who has come to save you.” “T care not for such safety as you can give.” ‘Edith Balfour hear me.”’ ‘‘Edith Balfour! you know me by my maiden name?” * 4.40.” “It matters not: I will believe not one word against my husband, and I bid you leave, or I shall—”’ ‘© Hold!” She halted at the command, for she had started toward the door to call a servant. ‘Well, sir?” , “Now will you believe me?” The beard, and wig were removed, and Roy Brandt stood revealed, ‘‘You here, Roy Brandt?’ she cried hoarse- ly. ' “Yes, to save you, Edith, for Allan Ar- leigh is all that I say he is, and move,” She sunk down in her chair once more and buried her face in her hands, a picture of per- fect woe. 7 ee CHAPTER XVII. THE MASK TORN OFF, ‘“ Eprrn, I meant not to make myself known to you until another time, when you were far from here on your way home; but you forced me to do so, and now you must hear the bitter story I have to tell—” ‘My father! what of him?” eagerly. ‘* Be patient, and you shall hear all. ‘*T haye told you what your husband is, and I now t+ll you that, in my disguise, I visited the Mexican Government, gave them proofs of what he was, and, to aid my men, twenty American herders, and myself, had a lieutenant and a score of men detailed to accompany me, “T arrested last night, in the town five leagues from here, Allan Arleigh—” ‘* Arrested?” she gasped. ‘“Yes, and he is now in irons, and with my command, which is encamped but half a league from here, intending to come on soon and cap- ture this hacienda and its band of outlaws, now reveling in the ruined wing as I heard when I crossed the court, ‘‘T came on ahead to warn you, to tell you all, and ask you to ride out of this place with me, and forever, for there will be bloody work here soon, “*T will go; but can I see my husband?” ‘*T will take you to him, if you wish it, after you have heard all.” ‘‘Oh, God! is there more to tell?” éé Yes.” ‘*T will listen.” ‘* Be brave, be strong, for I have that to tell you that will pierce your heart—” ‘*My husband lives, you say?” she said, ea- gerly. ‘* Yes, but it were better for him were he already dead. ‘‘ Edith, to save you from Bim, I went, with your father’s consent, to trail him through the past, and learn all I could, with proofs against him, : ‘‘T was accompanied by poor Lone Star Harry, and in the timber where you passed the night, after your rescue from the wolves, a tragedy, a double fragedy, was enacted.” In his calm, quiet way, he went on to tell the story of his meeting with Allan Arleigh, the intended duel, the treacherous shot in the back, and the death of Lone Star Harry, White as a corpse, still as a statue of marble, Edith listened, and at last he told her of her father starting forth upon the trai: of the as- sassin. ‘And from that trail, Edith, he never re- turned.” She did not start at his words, did not speak, and he continued: she cried Geom books.com