Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 278 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

a te —. promise not to reveal it to a living soul. plies to this Bentley Morris.” Without thought, never dreaming that the purport of what he had tosay could in any way apply to her, she gave the required prom- It ap- ‘You must know that Iam a man whom the bad fortune of life bas pressed to the earth. Time was when my family stood high in rank and wealth, That time has gone by, and step by step I have been forced down, until I own not a foot of land in all the world. What of that? Lam Jules Damand yet, and will carve out a way to fortune with my own right arm.” ‘‘I am sorry for you,” she said. ‘‘Is this what you have to say? I hope you may suc: ceed.’ “It is the prelude only,” he answered. ‘I wish to make you understand that, though you find me a poor voyageur and trapper, I am still equal in rank to yourself.” She was silent now. A woman of quick wit she saw at once toward what he tended, an knew no way tostop him. She was not aston- ished when he went on: ‘*I love you and wish to make you my wife.” She was on her guard immediately. “You do me too much honor, Mr. Damand. It seems to me that the few days we have been Pai Prepon are hardly sufficient to warrant you in taking this step.. You will excuse me,” “Not without an answer.” ‘“‘It seems to me there is but one answer. I must decline your proposal,” she answered, firmly. ** | supposed as much. That is peering Tam repared for anything. What if I tell you I ave a way of compelling you to accede to my demand?” ‘If you were to tell me so, I think I should Bay you told me a falsehood.” ‘Then I should feel called upon to prove my words true. In the first place, then, you have a sort of feeling for the young person known as Bentley Morris. What if I were to tell you that his fate depends in a great measure upon you. ‘*‘How can that be? He is in the hands of the Blackfeet.” ‘Tam aware of it. Yet I am ready to attest upon oath that I have the power of freeing him from cantivity, or at least of saving him from death. I am rather inclined to the opinion that they will roast him. I should be sorry to have that done, really, as I have nothing against the young gentleman, except the penchant you ave for him, which is not his fault, poor fel- ie é Be merciful. Save him from this dreadful ate. ‘You are a wretch, along, and now I am sure of it. league with the Indians.” ‘Ab, you have great penetration.” ‘‘ When father Ben returns I will inform him of this.” ‘You forget. You are pledged not to say a word. Remember that.” ‘* You entrapped me into a Pome which I ought to break,” she answered. ‘Yet you dare not, I tell you that the fate of your lover hangs upon my life. I am not likely to give ae up readily. I repeat that I love you. A Frenchman lovesin a moment and forever. Beware what you do, and above all keep silent.” She knew that she was in his power. He laughed lightly, and laid his band upon her shoulder. All the passion in her nature was aroused, and she struck him in the face with the flat of her hand. He stepped back a pace and put his hand toa knife wanes S flush of blood rushed into his face. Jan, from where he was sitting,saw the action,and rushing forward, thrust his heavy body between them to shake his ponderous fist under the nose of Jules, who recoiled at the sight. m ‘She struck me,” he cried, suerily. I will make you repent that blow so bitterly that you will wish you had never been born, rather than have raised your hand against me.” ‘‘-You drove me to do it,” she answered. “Vat you savy mit her, Shules Tamant?” de- I suspected you all You are in ' manded Jan, his fist vibrating to and fro in front of the Roman nose of Damand. ‘‘ Yoost ou speaks now, vile I dalks mit you. I vants es know yoost all apout it. Off you say a vord mit her vat ish not goot, I vill preak you in so mauy ash vorty t’ousand bieces.” “Y will make daylight’ shine through your body in a moment if you do not take care,” warned Damand. ‘Get out of my way.” ‘‘T yon’t! Isbtavs here yoost so long ash I baf a mind to. Now yoost you look here. You’s a vool, yvoui-. [nefer sees such a voolin if The Three Trappers. ec ee eee a ei ee ee eee ee all mine life.. Auver a man knows anyt’ing he know petter ash to talk mit a vooman, unt put a hant to a knife.” ‘‘Stand aside,” roared Jules, whipping out his knife. ‘‘It will be better for you. Jan instantly knocked him down in spite of his knife, and tied his hands and feet. hen he recovered from the blow Jan had conveyed him into the cabin and shut the door, He writhed about in bis bonds. “Jan!” he bawled. No answer. “Jan Schneider!” A silence like the grave. After he bad roared himself hoarse, Jan thrust his head in at the door and said quietly: ‘Vas vou callin’ me?” **Of course I was,” ‘‘ Berhaps you ton’t know I’ve got a hantle to my name, Mister Shules Tamant? Beeples call me Mynheer Jan Schneider,” ‘‘Come here. I want you to untie these a 8 ‘‘ Hein?” cried Jan, in astonishment. ‘“*1 want you to let me go.” ‘‘Geh zum tuyfel! Ven I lets you co, I vasa very pig vool. ou tink you coom rount here unt haf eferyt’ing your own vay? I dells you geok ash you can nix do nottings like dat, Ven enn coomes pack, mebbe ve t’row you in der vasser,”’ ‘“‘ Oh, but this is more than a joke, Jan. Un- tie me. This has gone far enough. I did not intend to use the knife.” ‘¢No more den I intent to use mine vist. Und I did intent to use him goot. How your ear veel pout dis dime of ter day, Shule?”’ ‘‘ Will you, or will you not, release me from these bonds?” “T vill not, unless you bromise to peg der bardon auver der young lady.” ‘*T’ll never do that.” “ All right. Den shtay vere you pe until Penn coomes pack,” ‘**T’ll beg her pardon,” ‘Vell, Den you must yoost peg my bardon,” said Jan. ‘* Yours. Sacre! I will never do that, at any rate,” roared Jules, ‘*Goot! Den shtay vere youpe. I don’t vant to Jet as co,” ‘Tl do any thing you ask.” Jan went away and was gone for a few mo- ments. Then he came back and set the French- man at liberty. He at once hurried to tbe place where he had left his arms. They were nowhere to be found, and Jan, a perfect arsenal of pistols and knives, was pacing up and down near by, talking with Millicent, ' ‘*Where are my arms?” roared Jules, ‘“‘Arms? Vy, dere dey pe, py your sides hanging vrom your shoulters. Vere else vould dey per ‘Where is my rifle, you scoundrel?” ‘Your rifle. “ Oh, vy didn’t you ask vor it? I pees ’vraid he gets preak, so I puts him avay.” ‘You have my pistols and knife in your belt; give them up directly.” ‘‘Mr. Damand,” said Millicent, advancing, ‘*we have decided to retain your arms until the return of Ben,” ‘‘ In other words, you mean to keep me a sort of prisoner in this place?” ** Precisely,” ‘‘ T will not endure it.” ‘‘You must; there is no other course open to ou. Jan will not hesitate to shoot you if you attempt to goaway. I am satisfied that you would throw obstacles in the way of Ben’s rescue of Bentley. “You must be quiet.” “T must, eh? The time will come when you shall repent this, I loved you dearly; I wanted to make you my wife. You scorned my love; you shalt feel my bate.” **T fear you not.” ** Look here, Stule; vas you vool enough to dalk love mit der young lady? I vill preak you allin bieces. You’s der vust vool I efer sees in all mine life. I dells you as I dinks yoost so. Oh, mein cracious, vat a vool you must pe!” The Frenchman looked as if he would like to commit murder if he had the weapons in his hands. But, fate was against bim. ** You have every thing Od own way now,” he said; ‘let it pass; I will remain a prisoner.” ‘‘We are going this afternoon to the top of the hill to see if father Ben is in sight.” **T will remain here.” ‘‘ No, you will accompany us; we do not ropose that you shall have an opportunity to ook for your arms, and turn the tables on us.” Jules ground his teeth, but there was nothing for him but obedience. Shaking his head, he went back into the cabin, while Jan Jooked after the traps which were near at hand, and took soldat 11 out the beaver which he found there. He did not go far away, however. in the after- noon they mounted the hill to look out upon the prairie. Jan forced his prisoner to go in front, and they reached the summit, whence Millicent cast a sweeping glance over the broad plain. Asshedid so, she saw Bentley, mounted on the white horse of the trapper, pushing him forward at his best speed toward the little stream which ran through the prairie. The horse rose to the leap with all his might and landed safely on the other side. Notfar behind him came Ben Miffin, at full speed, with two Indians close at bis heels, CHAPTER JX. MIFFIN’S LEAP, THE trapper had not been long in finding the Indians. They were merely a hunting-party who had come out upon the plains for buffalo and who had turned aside for the purpose of rooting out the men who had dared to invade their hunting-grounds, The arrow had beem sent, the warnin ven, and there was noth- ing for them to do but to destroy the insolent intruders. The roles ap ched the Indian opr warily. was pitched upon the wooded prai- rie, not far from one of those growths of \im- ber which rise like oases in the desert, in the prairie country. Ben tied his horse in a thick clump a quarter of a mile awey from the camp and crept cautiously forward, like a born scout as he was. Silent as death, not even pond he leaf, his moccasined feet passed on, until the woods hid bim from view. But for the fact that a high peak intervened between the hill on which Millicent took her station to watch, and the ground upon which the camp stood, she wight have seen the entire transaction, he moment he had entered the woods he felt safer. Pressing forward to the extreme verge of the thicket, he climbed a tree, from which he had a view of the encampment. It was about noon, and the Indians were in great commotion. Nearly every warrior was gath- ered about Whirling Breeze, who was harangu- ing them in a loud voice, Some portions of the speech Ben could comprehend. ‘‘Be not impatient, warriors ef the Black- feet. Have faith in the chief. These white men shall be given into our hands, There isa maiden Smong them fairer than snow; she shall dwell in the lodges of my people, ar- riors and chiefs, it is well that some of the white men should come among us. They have many arts, of which we know nothing, by the power of which the Indians are fading away, as the snow melts when the sun is bigh. He shall teach us these things. When we know them, we can meet the white men with their own weapons, and sweep them away. Let us wait the good time.” Who the “he” here he gg to, Ben could not for his life compre- end. He looked about him for Bentley Morris. He was standing near the center of the camp, bound to a small tree. Ben began to despair. How was it possible, alone and unaided, to free him from the hands of the enemy? " Some time he sat in the tree. Indians passed and repassed, Several of them stood for a few minutes beneath the tree, and conversed in low tones. Ben wasin doubt. Was it possible that Jules Damand had turned traitor? His heart sunk at the thought that be bad left Milli- cent under such a ie No, impossible that Jules could play false. e had no motive for treachery—he could gain nothing, but would lose every thing, by desertion. So the honest. old hunter disposed of that suspicion, | There were several young squaws in the camp, as is generally the case with a pitipie party Their not unmusical voices could eard calling to each other and singing snatches of Indian songs. A greater tumult arose. Looking to the east, Ben was conscious that a dark mass was beginning to show itself upon the prairie, miles eee This dark mass was no strange sight to Ben Miffin. He had seen it a hundred times before on these limitless prairies. A herd of buffalo, driven forward by the scouts of the Indian band, who had been beating the prairie for game, The dete excitement immediately ensued in the Indian camp. Half the warriors yaulted upon their horses’ backs without ordefs; the rest, more orderly, waited the movements of the chief. Whirling Breeze threw himself into. the saddle and led the way at a gallop. Nota warrior remained in the camp, with the exce tion of the pair who guarded the prisoner. Even these ran out of the camp, and followed ~ com Kel ol oXe, a. : ‘ o A i Ay -_ — Se et >| a es [| —] \ ty Js * 1 —_ ——