Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 229 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

8 | oid, Crimson Kate, the Girl Trailer. -sure that he did know the youth, and for her sake had let him go. ‘Well, Iam glad the boy got away, and I hope, as Lilian believes, that he will prove his innocence; yet how, God only knows. % By the way, captain, we lose our English guests in a few days.” ‘¢ Indeed, sir?’ ‘* Yes, they have taken a fancy to go into Mexioo on a hunt, and are only waiting for a competent guide, as there is no one here just now that I can recommend, though some one must drop along soon.”’ ‘*T wish they had never come, for then Les- ter Lang—” But Lilian did not finish her sen- _ tence, and swept from the room with a smile of thanks to Rollo Willoughby that fully repaid him for the decision he had made between love and duty. CHAPTER XIII. THE DYING HERMIT. AFTER having packed his traps and cached them, which he did as soon as the troopers left his cabin, the Cowboy mounted Red-skin, and leading the horse of Brandt Burnett, loaded with such things as he needed, set forth just at dawn to seek other quarters, where he could live in safety, until he had formed some plan to discover why the English hunters had laid the charge of murder against bim. Toward noon he rode into the hills, and turned into a canyon, where he expected to find good water and grass for his horses. Suddenly he drew rein, for he beheld, lying beneath a tree, the form of a man. At first he believed him to be dead; but a deep groan told him to the contrary, and con- fident that the man was ill, or wounded, be rode forward and hastily dismounted. Before him lay a man, apparently one who had passed half a century of years, for his long hair and beard were gray. His form was slender, yet denoted strength and there was that in his dress that at once showéd he was a plainsman. He opened bis eyes as the Cowboy bent over him, and said in an absent kind of way: “ Who are you?” | “ A Cowboy; can I serye you in any way?” was the response, in a soft, kindly tone. ‘Yes; you can stay here to see me die,” ‘“Tt is not as bad as that, I hope.” “Jt is as bad; I shot mtyself by accident, a few hours ago, and it will be a fitting death for me, I suppose.” _ But the wound may not be mortal, so let me see it.” ** It is mortal, for I know; it is in my right side, and I am bleeding internally.” One glance at the wound was sufficient to tell the boy that the man must die, so he said nothing, and the other, who watched his face said quickly: ** Well, did I not say right?” ““T fear so.” “*T will not live long?’ **T think not.” ‘Who are you?” ““ A Cowboy.” ** Ah! so you told me.” ** Can Ido aught for you?” ‘You are not one of the rough kind; Texas is not your home?” said the dying man, gazing into the frank, handsome face of the youth. **No; my home isin the East, but I live in Texas now.” fou speak sadly, as though misfortune drove you here as well as me, ‘* And misfortune of the bitterest kind made me a fugitive. ‘See, boy, I am not the old man I seem, but wear this beard and wig to hide my face from my fellow-man, as I'am a poor, hunted wretch.” _ As he’ spoke, with a quick movement he removed from his head and face the wig and beard which not for a moment the youth had believed false. A stern face of a man of thicty-five was re- vealed, clean-shaven and refined. ‘‘Who are you?’ asked the surprised youth. ‘¢ As Iam dying I do not mind telling you, for I wish you to do me a service. ‘For ten years I have been known as the Hermit Pathfinder.” ‘‘T have heard of you.” “Doubtless, for I have lived to myself in the mountains, only occasionally acting as guide to a train or mf@itary force, and they called me the Hermit for I cared not for com- pany, and Pathfinder, as I know every foot of this south-west border. ‘‘But my real name is Mabrey Monkton, and I was born poor, and sought to remove those between myself and fortuno, and was discovered, sentenced to be hanged for mur- der, and escaping through my accomplice, Brandt Burnett—” “ Brandt Burnett—” ‘“What! do you know him?” ‘“*T have met him.” **'W here?” ** At a fort in Texas,” “ What fort?’ ‘¢ Advance. ” “What was he doing there?” “ He enlisted under an assumed name, sought to kidnap the daughter of General Earl, was captured, and is now at the fort, where I ex- pect he will be shot.”’ ‘*Thank God! boy, he it was who tempted me to kill, and when I was caught and tried, I did not betray him, and he, hearing I intended making a confession, aided my escape, gave me money, and I fled here. « ‘‘T have written him, and never would he reply, and it was to now betray him that I asked you toserve me in, for I have papers that will hang him, and I have grown revenge- ful leading this outcast life. “Oh, God! how I suffer; but it will soon be over.”’ ‘¢¥ will do all I can for you,” said the Cow- boy kindly. ‘‘T see that in your face; now listen to me.” ‘TI will, sir.” ‘*‘My camp is ten miles from here in the hills. “Back yonder is my horse; mount him, after 1 die, and give him the rein and he will carry you there, for I cannot direct you how to find it. ‘‘In the cave you will find, under the ashes of the hearth, a layer of stones, beneath which are some papers. ‘Look them over, if you wish, and carry them to General Earl, telling him how you got possession of them, and they wilt hang that wretch Brandt Burnett. “ And more, let hitn know that I strike him from my grave; I, Mabrey Monkton, whom he led from the paths of honor and made what I this day am. ‘* You will do this for me, my boy?’ ‘*Yes, I pledge myself to do so,” was the earnest reply of the Cowboy, and then a silence came between the two, and it was evident that the end was near at hand. CHAPTER XIV. THE. GUIDE. SEVERAL evenings after the return of Cap- tain Willoughby and the prisoner Burnett, there arrived in the garrison an old scout, with dispatches from the upper country forts. He also brought a bundle of papers addressed to Miss Lilian Earl, and said they had been given him by a youth for her especial hands, Lilian took the package with a look of sur- prise upon her beautiful face, and sat down at her father’s table to look over the papers which she saw it contained, while the general was reading his dispatches and letters. To her surprise she recognized the writing of Lester Langdon, and read the following: “Miss Eart:—*A man dying in the mountains the other day, intrusted to my care the inclosed aitoagie which you will see are letters from Brandt urnett, written some years ago, to one, Mabre Monkton, and criminating himself in certain deeds of a murderous nature done by Monkton, to get hold of certain property. . ~- **Monkton was found out, tried and sentenced to be hanged, but escaped through the agency of Bur- nett, and fled to Texas, and he it was that told me his story and died here in the mountains, “IT send you the papers to aid in convicting Brandt Burnett, should more proof of his villainy be needed than what is already know n against him. ** LESTER LANGDON, “ The Cow boy.” Without a word the maiden -»placed the let- ters in the hands of her father, who read them in amazement, and cried: ‘‘Why Lilian, this very property the villains were working for belongs to my great aunt, Dorothy Weston, and Mabrey Monkton is her nephew and my cousin, and according to her will, if two persons died, he was to be her heir. ‘‘Those are the two he killed, and he was put up to it by Brandt Burnett, whose father was aunt Dorothy’s lawyer, and knowing that you, if she died without making another will, would become her heiress, he had been deter- mined to marry you. ‘Well, I shall place these letters in the hands of the gentlemen of the court-martial, and this one here will criminate him, for it says: ***Curse you, Mabrey, ‘tor a coward, for your nerveless hand did not force your blade to the seat of life, and I had to finish your work,’ ” ** And you owe the discovery of these papers to Langdon, the. Cowboy, sir,” said Lilian quietly, and she handed over the youth’s letter. “Well, it does seem that he is destined to serve us, does it not, although he is a fugitive from my order of execution against him.” ‘‘Please call the old scout back again, father, and ask him about the youth,” said Lilian. The general at once did as requested, and in came the scout and dispatch-bearer, and seeing that he was an old man, Lilian told him to be seated. ‘‘ Thanks, miss, but I doesn’t be tired; my legs has plenty o’ grit in ’em yet,” was the reply. ‘Well, my man, where did you get those papers you gave my daughter?’ ‘* Was they papers?” sé Yes.” ‘‘Ther yeung feller kind o’ said as how that it was a package.” “All right, where did you meet the one who gave them to you?” “Up in the mountains, near Comanche Pass.” ‘‘It was a young man?” Yas, gineral, a youth like, and he told me ter give ’em ter yer darter.” ‘‘Was the youth alone?” ‘¢?Ceptin’ Iris horse be were.” ‘* He sent no other message?” “ Nary.” “Well, my man, I see by my letter from Colonel Doan, that you would like a place as guide, scout, or hunter for this fort?” ey 64, Shit” ‘What is your name?” ‘“‘T calls myself Old Hickory.” ‘You know this country well, I suppose?” ‘¢ Perfect, gineral, and I hain’t so old as I look, and you needn’t fear I can’t git round, fer I'm awful peert o’ leg.” ‘Well, I wrote Colonel Doan that I wanted several more scouts and guides, and I will take you, and— Come in, Mr. Algernon, it is noth- ing private, as I am only engaging a guide,” and the general turned to his Engiith guest, who just then entered the room. ‘‘T hope one you can spere me to take me into Mexico,General Earl,” said Loyd Algernon. ‘Certainly, if you wish it, as I cannot tell just when my other scouts will return. “What say you, Old Hickory, would you like to guide this gentleman into Mexico?” ‘‘T are willin’, gineral, to go anywhere.” “Then you are my man, and we'll start to- morrow, and—” “ He has just arrived from a long ride, Mr. Algernon, and a rest of—” ‘Never mind my restin’, gineral, I thank ye, fer Old Hickory never tires. | (ECOMMIKS IOOKS