Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 296 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

mm om - awe -. ee wimmen, they’re wuss’n the men. Because I don’t encumber myself wi’ twenty or thirty ards o' caliker or silk, or satin, they call me d, held, and the blazes knows whatall. Let "em call! Rowdy Kate’s all right, ef she aire leetle, an’ she don’t care a fig fer no one ’cept her dorg. Here, Grizzly—come, Grizzly!” and she E PROREARG up her pretty mouth, and whistled me . Tn oe RET an animal made its ap nce, and came bounding toward her—not as d usually bound, but turn veritable revolu- tions over and over, from fore feet to hind, in the same way our circus-performers turn suc- cessive hand-spri It was a most remarkable ight for a dumb brute to be seen doing, and when he arrived infront of bis mistress and stood upon his hind feet with a triumphant wag of his tail, Lord Clifford clapped his hands heartily in applause. ‘Thar, thet’s my friend, an’ about the only one I kin lay any claim to,I tell ye. Thet poodle ain’t no great scraps on beauty, but he’s a fighter, an’ knows more’n lots o’ humans I’ve , » seen. + Undoubtedly, judging by his recent exhibi- tion, ‘“Oh! I Varnt him that. Sum fellers hate do an’ shute ’em. on sight. Asa rule they y take aim ata dorg’s head—so I l’arnt Grizzly allus ter approach a pusson promis- cussly, so that ef he war fired upon, they war as likely to shute off his tail as his head.” ‘Your logic is not without reason,” Lord Clifford said, smiling. ‘‘And now, may I ask you how much do you know about the man whoo rescued you the other night, who called himself John Smith?” : ‘“ Ha! ha! I know, one thing; he’s too rich for your.and the madame’s blood. He’s like a Depry Den ye think. ye’ve got him, he ain’t there.” “Til admit be was too much for us, then. But, I must capture him, or at least confront him and have redress.” ‘* Yas, you'll need on several dresses ef ye cal- culate to buck ag’in’ him. Don’t know any more about him than you do, but I sized him up as somethin’ nigh te'a condensed earthquake.” ‘Bad man I have no doubt he is, but I must by all ns have aninterview with him, You are a girl of ready wit. and tact—Ill give you the reward I’ve offered, if will bring it about so that I can have a private meeting with him,” “Lord Clifford, you are undoubtedly a man of noble, generous, and honorable principles but if so I know you will not a second time at- tempt to cause me to betray the only man who ay. I will bas taken ay art in many a long bid you good-day, sir!” Honorable Darcy Drew was one of the richest men in McGuffin’s, from the fact that he owned interests in several of the best payin es, besides having lots of ready money, which he was at all times willing to loan, for a big share, on unincumbered ms, He was seldom seen outside of the door of his own mansion, which, hy the way, was one of the best structures in the camp, and comfortably urnished. f All this.outside business was attended to by his dutiful son, Dick, who, with an eye to the future, was careful not to offend his father by any neglect of duty or extraordinary robbery. What reason the elder Drew had _ for his per- sistent seclusion, was a riddle unsoluble to the McGuffinites, unless he was afraid of meeting some old enemy, who woud ‘‘nail him” at sight, He was never seen upon the street, ex- cept it was after dark, and seldom, then... _ he evening after Lord Clifford’s interview with Rowdy Kate, Darcy Drew sat in his pri- vate office, or library, his head resting on his hand, the arm of which in turn rested upon a fine office table. That he was buried in thought was evident, for his green-goggled eyes rested steadfastly upon the blaze of his office lamp, for some time. ‘ At last, however, a, dark, exultant smile over his face and he looked up. He was a dark, swarthy-skinned man of fifty, perhaps, of large, bony figure, and evident great physical stren His an was for — most covered with bristling black beard, and his hair was of the same color. These facts, with his gaunt, long face, gave him anything but a pre ing appearance. What was the color of his Pye was hard to determine, without removing his les. 7 is attire was of a respectable nature, but not loud or flashy. — a - “Yes, that is the choice of many ways of get- ting at the matter, and I must tell Dick about it. Itcan be done, perhaps—” ‘Yes, perhaps it can, dad,” Dick Drew said, entering at this juncture—‘ it depending alto- gether on what the ‘ perhaps’ refers to.” ** That xe shall know, directly, boy,” the elder Drew said. ‘‘ But, what is the news?” ‘Nothing, in particular. Everything seems quiet, and very little is said about the rewards.” ‘* Just as I surmised. This man Blake is too little known in these parts, for identification, and devilish few miners are willing to give u steady pers for the sake of going on a wild- chase after him. . 1 wish I could have seen be fellow; I should then be better satisfied that it was indeed the man.” “* There can be little doubt of it, as the madame claims to have recognized him at sight, as did the Englishman,” ‘‘Strange that he should come here; but it will not nearly so strange if he reappears. He is a crafty devil.” ‘* Well, I don’t imagine we have anything to fear from him, no matter how savage he may “Ha! ha! no, And, now, about the child. There are evidently three, parties. who know something of the matter, and Lord Clifford, Blake, and another person constitute the three, forgetting, of course, ourselves, whose know- ledge is very limited. Well, now, Lord Clifford as | make out the case, is the most interested rty, from the fact that he is searching for is lost omer ing, Nor is this all: he is search- ing for an heir—one out of the only two living legal heirs who could inherit his wealth after his death. | I have learned all about this. The only heir remaining, is the Lady Theresa, who accompanies him, and who only inherits, when it is proven that the true child of Lord Clifford is dead. See?” Dick Drew noglded. He had a fertile imagi- nation, and was not slow to comprehend, ‘The second person to be interested in the case, I doubt not is Blaké, for I have a stronger idea that he has not possession of either of the children, nor has he had, since the breaking up of his, family. Therefore, it looks but reuason- able that he has no more knowledge of_ his child than Clifford has of his, and if he bas any fatherly instincts, he must be just as anxious to learn which of the two children was killed.” ** You are right, again,” : ‘‘The third interested party, has only a pe- cuniary interest, like ourselves, in putting on poultices and drawing out of the case all the money ble,” “Probably. And, now, if Blake is not - sessed of the child, who is/—that’s the Biigation. which it may take a good deal of time to solve.” ‘“‘Not in my estimation. I do not have a doubt but what the child who escaped the mas- sacre at the farm-house, that night, is in the charge of the servant-girl, Mary Monk, who also escaped.” | ‘“‘ Ah! that bad never occurred to me, and I believe you are right. The next thing is— where is Mary Monk?’ ‘Not far from here, I ey. This third in- terested T onOke of, possessed the name of Monk, and the name being an uncom- mon one, I presume he is related to y Monk, and has conceived an idea that such being a fact, he is interested in the circumstances of the case, by a knowledge of them and the where- abouts of Mary Monk and the child.” ‘‘ Well! well! you'd make a fine rogue— rather a detective, if you wasn’t so pious, and ssessed of so many conscientious scruples,” ick Drew said, with a villainouslaugh. ‘ But this la ter conclusion is only drawn from guess- work. eh?” ‘* Yes, but I have every confidence that it will furn out as I have outlined. Now, the things for us to dv, is the next and most important consideration.” ‘“‘Exactly. First of all, we must be to the Lo in finding out where is Mary Monk and the “Yes, That is nearly our first move. Then, at the same time, we must work Lady The- ‘Yes, she is next heir after the young ’un. She would not be natural if she did not have a hope that the child would never turn up. You see? Now, you can approach her on the sub- ject her you know just. where to lay your hands on Lord Clifford’s child, and are only arainng for bigger inducements before ucing i er sentiments and make your inven ; In this way you can draw a you think it safe, you can propose to her that if _Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado. 7 -_—s rn ee + + —_—_—_—_- -_— she will marry you, you will forever have the child kept in its present obscure but comfortable home. If she tumbles, ail well; if not, you may in some sucha way work up his lordship.” ‘““Good plan. And now, how shall we pro- ceed to work the Dutchman, Moses Monk?” **T hardly know, as yet. It will not take me long, however, to arrange some good plan,” CHAPTER VIL. A VILLAIN’S SCHEME—AN OUTLAW’S HAND, DuRING the week following the events last narrated the name of Apollo Bill, the road- agent, became better known to the public, from the fact that several stages were relieved of their treasure boxes and numerous passengers of their loose change and valuables. Of course, Apollo Bill being first in the field in that section, he received the credit for these outrages, and his name was in every one’s mouth. Some said he was a very handsome man while others, who had encountered him, argue that little could be told whether he was hand- some or not, owing to the nearly full mask he wore. His band of scarlet coats were evidently fully as fearless as their leader, and therefore were a formidable band to encounter. Apprised of the existing evil, the U. 8. Mar- shal had sent an expert detective to McGuffin’s, who had the legal power to call for local assist- ance to hunt down the road-agents, if neces- sary; but as yet he had made no move in that direction. This man’s name was Butler, and instead of taking any immediate steps toward hunting down the outlaws, he issued a placard, offering ave hundred dollars for the arrest of Apollo ed with the munificent reward . ¥. Z, and Lord Clifford, for the arrest of William Blake, this reward enlisted no interest whatever. Butler was a dappex little individual, who did not look as if he ever was intended for war, In the mean time, Lord Clifford had accom- lished nothing. He was still stopping at the hotel, and was daily on the alert, in ho re uy As com offers “by learning something relating to his case; seemed to be a vain quest. One afternoon, while he was out about town, Lady Theresa ordered her fine saddle-horse—a new purchase since coming to the camp—and mounting, rode about the town awhile, finally branching off into the deep ravine, which was 3 only way of reaching the camp by stage or e She had never Pascua the strange place before, and should have known better, her ps, but the temptation to ride in between cool high, ru walls was too grea to resist, an the ring of her spirited steed’s steel-shod hoot's reverberated through the long aisle of nature. So well did she enjoy a wild gallop, and so much did she admire the grandeur of the rug- ged scenery around her, that she had gone many miles before she thought of turning back, and it was only then, when an accident oc- curred, that she was brought to a realization of her situation, Selim, her horse, caught his right fore-foot. in ' a crevice, and f extricaté the foot, he went plunging forward to the gronnd with a scream of agony, as his leg snapped in twain. Too thoroughly a horsewoman was Lady Theresa, to be endangered by such an accident. Many a wild and exciting fox chase in the great meadows back of Clifford Cliff had in- ured her to the habits and mishaps of equestri- anism, so that she had landed upon her feet, safely, ere her poor steed reached the ground, bruised and badly broken, ‘Poor Selim! I am_to blame for this, my r, faithful fellow! Your leg is broken, and must be miles from the town. It is growing dark, too! Oh, dear, what shall I do” “Do what every sensible young lady would do, under the cireumstances—be brave!” a voice exclaimed, and Dick Drew stepped from behind a big bowlder, but a few feet away, Lady resa gave a little scream of horror, but when she saw who it was, she felt a trifle more ass : ‘Lady Theresa, this is a painful accident you bave met with, and it is opportune I happened to be so near, as I trust I can be of some little service to you, at least,” young Drew said, ap- proaching. “If you will go back down the gulch aways, I will shoot this poor animal, who is suffering intense pain from a broken leg, and put him out of his misery.” “Oh! must he be killed, sir?” “Certainly. It would be cruel to let him lay EORMIC OOO! <S4(E(o)