Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 32 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

ee _ — oOo —— oa ee = 16 Beadle;s Half-Dime Library. saddle, and pinioned in the grasp of many cruel hands. She tried to scream, but could not, a piece of blanket being quickly fastened into and across her mouth. She struggled fiercely, but it was to no avail. The clutches of the ex- ultant ruffians were like vises. She was undeniably a prisoner. Without delay her captors hastened to bind ber, hand and foot. When this was accomplished, a man emerged from the mesquit bushes hard by, bearing a bull’s-eye lantern in his hand. The poor girl now trembled, despite her ef- forts to appear calm, for she recognized in the repulsive wretch coming toward her, the most savage of all her enemies, Bob Woolf. ‘‘Hev ye got ther old covey, b’yees?” de manded the ruffian, as he shot the full rays of the lantern upon the disguised maiden. ‘*- You bet!” muttered Pill-box, who had been foremost among the gang; ‘got ’im nice ’s er bug in a rug!” “Good! Now, we’re onther road ter findin’ out whar’ ther gal is, then. Bring ’im erlong, an’ we'll sot out fer ther rendezvous, ’cause I ain’t purtic’lar fond o’ stayin’ ’round hyar at present, arter w’at I see’d up thar,” and the outlaw cast a flerce glance toward the tavern. Hurricane Nell listened eagerly, and her heart gave a wild bound as she comprehended that she was only recognized as the beggar, Uncle Sam. Further words were not deemed necessary by the rufflans, and preparations were immedi- ately made for departure from the glade. Guzzler was sent for the horses, and soon re- turned to the southern edge of the bushes with them, whereupon the whole band mounted, Cap’n Bob carrying his captive across the sad- dle in front of him. Pill-Box then led the way, followed by Woolf and the rest of the gang, and they all galloped off in the direction of Cherry Valley. No halt was made during the night, but in the morning they drew rein, and dismounted. A few prairie hens were shot and dressed, and when cooked over a small fire, made quite a relishable meal. As soon as the repast was ready, Cap’n Bob released his prisoner’s arms and disengaged the gag, so that she could “Thar, cuss ye,” he growled, “I guess ye ken’t do much harm; fer thar’s no one out-hyar’s kin heer yer yowlin’, an’ I ain’t ertall afear’d 0’ w’at ye ken do wi’ yer fists. How d’ye feel erbout thes’ time, my luivly old ‘ Last Rose o’ Summ’r? Didn’t hev eny ijee ye war goin’ ter run yer snoot inter hornet’s nest, last nite, did ye? He! he! we gobbled ye up, purty, now, d’dn’t we? Best haul we’ve made in er month o’ Sundays. Cuss ye, ye old slab-sided, squint-eyed crockydile, w’y in thunder don’ ye, say suthin’? D’ye want me ter smash ye one in the gob?” : ‘‘Thou wouldst not lay thy hand in anger upon an old and decrepit man, whom thou hast cruelly made a prisoner in thy ranks?” ‘Oh! no, I wouldn’t, would It Bet yer gar- ters I wouldn’t, But, Ill tell ye w’at I would do—an’ will do—that ar’, punch ye rite squar’ in their p’iserognemmy, quicker ’n ye ken say Yanky Doodgle, ef ye don’ disgorge, onload yerself, upheeve, onsling, spew up, all ye kno’ erbout thet she wench, Hurrycane Nell, an’ w’ar she keeps herself, 0’ late.” ‘¢ Whom dost thou mean by that most strange of all titles?’ came from the disguised girl, in the same squeaky tones of the old beggar. ‘You have only to tell me of her, and I will try and remember if I have ever met her in my extended travels.” A curse escaped the ruffian’s lips. ‘See hyar!” he hissed, drawing and cocking a revolver; ‘ now, d’ye see this? Then ’f ye does, why jes’ guv us no more’n yer soft soap. I don’t suck such seed. Whar’s ther gal, Hurricane Nell, tell me, or by ther great snakes o’ Snodgrass, I’ll put a chunk o’ cold le’d thru yer coakynut!” “Shoot if thou darest, vile monster, but thou will only incur the wrath of God upon thy head. Were you to kill me a dozen times, I wouldst not betray my trust, and inform you, bad man that you are, of the whereabouts of the maiden you would seek to destroy. ‘¢ All k’rect,” replied Woolf, a sudden change seeming to come overhim, ‘Jes’ ye wait till we get ye down ter Cherry Run, an’ ther ren- dezvous, an’ then ye’ll come ter time, I'll bet er plug o’ terbaccy. Yas, ’ll make ye disgorge, or— ” He did not finish the sentence, but turned away, savagely. The meal was soon dispatched, and the caval- cade made ready for the resumption of the journey. One of the ruffians was left to follow on foot, while our heroine was securely bound onto the saddle of his horse, and allowed the privilege of riding, in preference to being car- ried in the arms of Cap’n Bob, whom she hated more and more, each time she gazed toward him, When all was arranged, the men sprung into tneir saddles, and the band galloped away, Pill-Box leading the captive’s horse, by means of a long lariat attached to the bit. Away across the plains they sped during the live-long day and far into the following night, as if eager to escape to their Valley retreat. About midnight they entered the same valley through which Cecil and the beautiful Dead- shot had dashed on their return from Luke Rice’s cabin; and in the course of a half-hour drew up in front of the larger of the several cabins. : Here all hands dismounted, and the disguised maiden was borne into a large dimly-lighted apartment, which at the time was occupied by some half a dozen white outlaws and Indians. These men arose with exclamations of surprise and curiosity, as Cap’n Bob entered with his captive, whom he rudely tumbled down into a corner, and gave a ruthless kick with his heavy boot. Explanations were at once demanded of the cause of the band’s strange return, and as to who was the singular-looking prisoner, all of which the chief volunteered to give, taking pains to interlard each word with a terrible curse or anathema. By and by the rest of the band came in, and were greeted with cordiality by the out- laws. At Woolf’s expressed wish, several bottles of whisky were brought forth, and the assembled roughs began to gulp down the fiery liquid, as if it were nothing more than water. Bottle after bottle was emptied, and before long the larger share of the band were in ‘‘prime fightin’ order,” and eager to discuss the manner of torture to be inflicted upon the prisoner, should he persistently refuse to make the desired disclosures, | “I tell ye w’at I think,” growled Guzzler, savagely, at the same time hurling an empty bottle toward the trembling maiden’s head. “Stick his hoofs in ther fire an’ scorch 'em fer an hour. Thet’d fetch him ter his limerick.” “Or hang ‘im by his heels, fer two days,” suggested Pill-Box. ‘‘Thar’s nothin’ ’s ekal et, fer tannin’ refracktory speerits.” “No,” grunted Cap’n Bob, reflectively, ‘““we won’t do thet. Ive better plan. We'll wind him up on er windlass above er roarin’ hot fire, Then we’ll fix ther crank so’s it’ll let him down by inches, D’ye see ther p’int?” ‘‘- Yas—yas!” howled the intoxicated de- mons, ‘An’ he'll keep er descentin’, lower ’n’ lower, till he’s plum in ther fire; then ’f he won’t disgorge, let him sizzle, hey?” *‘Perzactly!” leered Woolf. ‘‘ We'll get ter work ’t onc’t, an’ build er windlass, ter w’ch we'll fasten ther reptyle, then, as et will take till mornin’ fer him ter wind down, we'll le’ve him ter his warm’st reflexiouns, wi’ er whoppin’ big fire’n under ’im; an’ we'll kim back hyar ones git on er thunder’n’ big drunk. What say ye “Good! good!” yelled the ruffians, “All k’rect, then. Git yer tools, all on ye —git axes, picks, shuvvels an’ auggers—an’ foller me, Kim er long!” The men armed themselves with the requi- site implements, and Cap'n Bob led the way from the cabin, followed by the whole gang. Hurricane Nell was left alone—alone, and with the prospect of an awful death staring her in the face, As she lay there in the dimly-lit, whisky- scented room, and thought the situation over, in all its horrible reality, the echoing reverbe- rations of the axes of her would-be execution- ers, came from out in the valley, They were preparing her scaffold, and she was doomed to a horrible death. An hour went slowly by, and the echo of the axes and the maudlin yells of the ruffians ceased for awhile. Then there came the tramp of many feet, the human savages burst into the cabin, and with awful yells seized their victim and bore her out into the black night to the newly~-constructed windlass, where the rest of the gang were waiting. It was built something in the shape of a crane, one gigantic arm swinging out from the main shaft, from which hung a stout lariat, the end reaching almost to the ground, and being formed in the shape of a slipping- noose. This noose was placed over the pris- oner’s head and shoulders, and shurred to, about her waist. Then at a word of the ruffian chief, four stout outlaws began turning a rude, squeaking crank, and Nell felt herself being drawn rapid- ly upward. She was presently stopped by the projecting arm ef the crane, and the outlaws busied themselves in fixing the windlass so that it would unwind by degrees, A fire of pitchy cones was kindled beneath the arm to which the brave girl was suspended, and the leaping flames and strong gas nearly choked and suffocated her. Having finished their hellish work for the present, the ruffians hurried away to the ren- dezvous, to “liquor up.” From her aerial perch, Hurricane Nell watched the bed of fire below her, with a sort of fascination. It crackled and hissed, and leaped fiercely upward, as if trying to reach her with its fiery tongues. Slowly the windlass unwinds. An hour passes by, the fire burns as brightly as ever, and half the distance to the ground is accomplished, Another hour, and— The Girl Deadshot closes her eyes to keep out the horrible vision. Three-quarters of an hour more, She is hanging within a yard of the fire, It almost scorches her. Suddenly a wild thought enters her brain as if by magic, She allows her moccasined feet to descend into the fire. The flames leap wildly around her ankles, and burn fiercely at her leggings. They also burn the cords, and her feet are soon free from restraint, although severely burned. Wild with the desire to get free, she then gave a fierce jerk at the windlass-rope—there was a snap, a quick, buzzing whir, and the next instant she found herself precipitated into the fire. Scrambling hastily to one side, she found that she had plenty of slack rope at her command, She held it into the flames, It burned in twain. Heaven be praised—she was free, once more, CHAPTER XVL UNMASKED—HUNG BY THE HEELS. ALL day long the cavalcade galloped on across the baked plain, and at nightfall dzew rein, and pitched their camp under the eever of a small motte, similar to the one by which they had met the Mexican, Hidaglo, Fires were kindled, and a few prairie chickens, that offered themselves as game, were killed, plucked and roasted. A relishable repast was thus provided, to which the hungry whites and their darker red allies helped themselves without stint, Then, as it was too early to think of sleep- ing, Cap. Woodchuck volunteered to amuse the crowd with a story or two, and in his droll, EOmMmIIcbDooks ~~