Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 240 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

me oe — a Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator. 3 What did it mean? What trap was being laid for him, or for what purpose did Old Meg propose to utilize him? These thoughts flashed through his mind with lightning rapidity, as he listened, and looked down upon her, as they stood in the dim night- shades that pervaded the Phantom Acre, ‘* You area great man,” she pursued, thought- fully, after a minute, as if recalling the mem- ory of some other brave man she had met. ‘* You are fearless, shrewd to conceive, quick to act, independent and resolute. That is just what I want. I want a man who is not afraid to face fire, fiends and fury to accomplish an object. Tell me, what do you think about be- coming an envoy to the Evil One, as they call me in the walled city?’ ‘“‘[t depends altogether on what you want of me,” Kit replied, a little sternly and suspicious- ly. ‘‘If you reckon to get me into some infer- nal trap, so that you can exercise a madwo- man’s spite on me, you can’t do it.” ‘* Ha! ha! no—I knew that on the first seeing of you. It needs but one glance to tell that you are not often caught asleep. Nor do I so wish to catch you. Come! ride forward to the edge of the Phantom Acre, and I will show you the Mormon cage; then, come back with me to my castle here””—with a grimace toward the hut— ‘‘and I will tell you what I want of you,” and she led off toward the opposite side of the pla- teau or table-land. Cyclone Kit slipped from his saddle, drew his revolvers and followed. He had no fear as to his ability to cope with this strange being, un- less she should spring a surprise on him. In that event he was resolved to sell his life or liberty dearly. It did not take long to reach the point where the Phantom Acre ended, in an awful abyss—a black, seemingly fathomless gulf of space, Before them yawned a deep natural basin, sunken down into the bowels of the mountains several hundred feet, the sides of which, formed by smoothly-worn walls of mountain rock, were at once perpendicular and dizzy. Half a mile wide by a mile in length was this pocket of nature, and it was at once eminently lain to the eye of an observer that no human ing could scale those wonderful bastions, either in ascent or descent, as there were no outcropping ledges and few crevices whereby a person could gain or maintain foothold. ‘There! there!” Old Meg screamed, seeming to grow suddenly furious as she pointed down into the abyss, ‘‘There is the walled city of the Mormon saints—there lies the cursed city of Gold-Flake, where people enter never to return!” Cyclone Kit gazed down into the yawning gulf, in curiosity, for, after all, it was not unlike the place described by the vagabond miner, who had, while intoxicated at Tombstone, spun off a highly improbable yarn about a mountain- locked golden city in the heart of this desolate country. Far as it was down to the bottom of the pock- et, Kit was able to distinguish the log and shan- ty structures of a village near the heart of the basin; also there was a stream of water running through the length of the basin, either end of which was hidden from view in dense growths of chaparral, which choked up the ends of the strange valley. “You see!” Old Meg repeated, after a mo- ment, ‘‘ you see the walled city of human hel- lions down there, where law and order are made by one wolf in man’s clothing. That is Gold- ake! Once all was mine—the gold, the silver the land, the forest, the game—all! Come! will tell you about it, envoy.” ; Kit mechanically obeyed, by following her back to the hut and entering after her. The interior was barren of anything cheerful, a few ashes of a now dead fire on the ground being all to show that the place had ever been occupied as a human habitation. There were no stools, no bed, nofurniture whatever, to give the interior the appearance of a home. As soon as they entered, Old Meg produced a lantern, lit it, and then with her foot scra the ashes from off the rocky floor, until she had uncovered a large ring which was fastened therein. Pulling on this, she raised a large square block or trap-door, which disclosed to view an aper- ture and a stone staircase, descending apparent- ly mto the bowels of the earth. ‘*First you go, and then I will close the trap,” the witch ordered, and Kit obeyed, his curiosity now thoroughly aroused. Pens oe he trusted her more now than at t She soon followed, and lighted him down the precipitous staircase, until they came to a land- ing or passage, out of which they entered into an underground apartment of considerable size. Here a fire was burning, and torches were lit and thrust into niches in the wall. The furniture consisted of a rude bedstead and bedding, a few chairs, a table, and a num- ber of trinkets, including several glass covered boxes of various sizes. Upon the table were heaps of gold and silver nuggets, bags of dust and stacks of greenbacks and gold coins, Cyclone Kit gazed at them curiously, as he became seated—Old Meg noted the fact, and chuckled. ‘Yes, there’s a fortune there for my heir, whoever that may be,” shesaid, ‘‘ and that ain’t all. There’s more buried on the Phantom Acre, lots of it! And ITve earned it all from them who hate me—the Mormons. But I was to tell you about the walled city.” She took a sip from a bottle that stood on the table, cleared her throat, and then began: ‘““It was years ago—yes, —_— long years— that Joe and I eloped from our homes, in New England, and penetrated to this wild region, to grow up with the country. We were both young aud ambitious, and wanted to get ang from sin, temptation and worldliness. Well, we got this far, and the place struck Joe’s fancy. He looked down into the basin, and Said: ‘““There’s gold, there, Meg; we’ll squat here.” And so we did. ‘We went to work, hand in hand, and built us a cabin upon the acre, above. Then, while I hunted and cooked, Joe prospected for a way of reaching the locked valley, but persevering efforts failed to reveal any. ‘That there was gold there he felt a firm conviction, and he meant to gain access to the valley; so after months of figuring, he could see no better route than to hew a staircase down through a seam in the rock of the moun- tain, to the ryt below. “In order to do this, he had to go into the more civilized portions of the territory, and procure the necessary tools, and this cost an- other month of time. ‘* Well, to make a long story short, we worked faithfully, nearly night and day, for two years, before we set foot into that valley; then, we tore down our shanty or cabin, and moved it into the basin, where the gold ‘‘ wash ” of many centuries sanded over the bottom. It was-the realization of our wildest dreams—fortune upon fortune lay buried in that gulch basin, at our command. ‘* Tn our eagerness to grasp this golden treasure, we were so thoughtless as to leave our stair- case unguarded, and, one day, two wandering ruffians gained access to the gulch, thereby, and discovered our secret. ‘‘We succeeded in driving them out of fe basin, but could not get them out of the stair- Se. ‘* Less than a month after that, a score of Mor- mon families, from Salt Lake, came pouring in upon our bonanza, and all our visions of per- manent pr rity became blighted. We were unable to defend ourselves against such odds, and were at once taken captives, and a Mor- mon rule was inaugurated, under the lead of one Juan Cordiz, who still occupies that posi- tion. ‘‘From that period dated the town you now see there, and a reign of the devil began. I was alloted, with my little daughter, then two years old, to one Jabez Harp, an unprincipled wretch, who already boasted of five wives, while my husband was handed over to an ugly widow, whose husband had deserted her only to er by the ae ae aging b a ‘You can perhaps imagine, judgin what I am now, that I ior Orci outoae pf a fate, and, strong-willed woman that I was, I was pot long in making my escape, and taking possession of the pass, after killing five Mor- mon devils, to gain my point. ‘*T had ’em, then, I thought, for well equipped as I was, with weapons, and. noeddue At could hold them at bay, until they would have starved. ‘But I reck’ed without my host, for they had me at the weakest point of all. My pretty lit- tle baby was still in their power, and Cordiz sent me a note by a flag-o’-truce courier, stating that unless I came to terms in the way of a soet- tlement, he would burn my child at the stake, Indian fashion, scalp it, and cut out its heart. Then he went on to propose that I should re- main in possession of the passage, in their in- terests, and admit no one to the valley, except as they might order, for which consideration he would permit my child to live, until such a —_— a — time as I should be able to pay him ten thou~ sand dollars for its custody. ‘What could I do? I had no hope but to obey, until such a time as I could steal a march on them. ‘‘To add tomy misery, and my enmity against yonder town, my husband not only joined the lormons, but took to himself two more wives, and is now considered one of the pillars of their heathen church. And it was just sixteen years ago that they took possession of the walled val- ley of which Juan Cordiz rules as the mon- arch. Cyclone Kit did not know whether she had concluded or not, when she paused, but waited a few minutes, and then said: ‘‘T comprehend, I believe. Fora matter of sixteen years you have remained in this vicinity for the purpose of getting back your child, and getting possession of your husband.” “Oh! no! no—not my husband! My child only. Sixteen long years have I maintained my vigil, and by aid of a powerful field-glass, have seen my child day by day, as she grew up to womanhood, But, 1 have not waited for the brute who forsook me for the Mormom faith— except it be to get a chance to kill bim. I have waited to get possession of my child: I dared not disobey Juan Cordiz’s orders, for he 1s a human wolf, and would not hesitate to kill her, if he thought I were neglecting my office.” ‘‘ You have, then, in all this time, never been down in the valley?’ ‘‘ No—that is, but once, when I was chased by bloodhounds, owned by Cordiz.” ‘¢You tell a most singular story; still, I am inclined to believe you!” Cyclone Kit declared, thoughtfully. ‘‘If all.is as you say, you are certainly more sinned against than sinning. Do you think your child will know you?” Probably not, as she was a mere chit when taken from me.” ‘‘Then, why disturb her? You must be aware that you are not a person, in point of ap- pearance, to whom a girl would naturally turn for mothership; you would repulse rather than attract. Probab it would be a serious blow for her to know that an accredited witch was her mother, and she would be unwilling to re- cognize you as such.” ‘Your argument is not without weight. I have sometimes thought so, myself; but, then God knows I cannot give her op to a life of Mormonism, knowing she is my child, and it is my duty tosave her. Until a few weeks ago, I used to have a chance to hear how she was treated, through the deaf and dumb motions of a lad who lives with the Mormons. He would lie on bis back, on the bank of the stream, and make his — go in the mute language, so that by aid of my fleld-glass I could tell what he said. Most always he would tell me—t Your daughter is well and all right.’ The last time he conversed with me, he motioned: ‘ Bertie is to be made the wife of Juan Cordiz, in a couple of months; after that I never saw him again.” ‘‘ The Mormons probably caught him and im- prisoned him, eh?” ‘*T think so. Oh! heaven forbid that my ure innocent child be forced to marry that, ina monster, Juan Cordiz!” ‘‘ And sbe shall not, if Cyclone Kit can help it!” the young adventurer cried, decidedly. ‘‘Tf itis your wish, I will enter that Walled City of Gold-Flake, seek out your daughter, apprise her of the existing state of affairs, and, with her permission, bring her to you. ou have wealth—you can then seek a more Civilized land, and dwell in more pleasant circum- stances!” ‘‘And you will do this for me—oh! you will do this for me, sir?’ the old woman cried, tearg of jov coursing down her furrowed cheeks, ‘+ Yes—or at least, ’ll make a try for it!” “Then may God bless and prosper you. But you must not let it leak out that /sent you. I must not anger Juan Cordiz, until my child is safe.” “Tt shall be as yousay. It isnight; I will at once on my mission ” Cyclone Kit ret buckling his belt a notch tighter. CHAPTER IT. “WE MUST FIGHT!” \ Tue joy of Old Meg seemed to know no bounds at this decision of Cyclone Kit, and she dropped on her knees at his feet, and prayed tha saints to guide and protect him. Once his mind was made up, Kit was eager to get to work. He accordingly looked well to the condition of his weapons, and announced his readiness to descend into the Mormon settle- ment, first having arranged with the old witch to care for his horse during bis absence, Com VDOOKSTEOM