Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 339 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

On Vermilye?” “Yes, on Paul Vermilye! where the hell-bound is?” It was not Martha who spoke, but youn Mancill. He had recovered from the fit, an was glaring steadily at Kit. ‘¢] reckon you'll ask of some one that knows the man,” Kit replied, with an attempt to turn Do you know it off. **Oh, I'll find him—I’}1 find him, and cut bis teart out. I just saw bim, in my fit. Heisin Played-Out. Let me loose, old woman!” artha had turned whits, but she cut the cords that bound him. ‘‘Be careful, sir; you may get a fit again!” she said anxiously, ‘Oh, yes, Vl get a fit,” he chuckled exult- antly; ‘‘ but it will bein a pine box, and that, too, after Paul Vermilye is food for the buz- zards!” Then, with a wild laugh, he dashed from the cave. ‘‘ He told the truth. Hesaw Vermilye in his dream, and poor Paul’s fate is settled!” Martha observed. A tear rolled down her furrowed cheek, but she wiped it away, as if ashamed of her weak- ness, ‘* What did you come, for?’ she demanded, a moment later. ‘*T came to hear the other part of the story. Martha, you have seen what I have done for Piayed-Out?” ‘‘T have, and proud I am of you. I was there, unknown to any one.” ‘‘ Martba, I want you to tell me one thing, Is Mai Roulere the lost child of Morton Miles? I need scarcely ask the question, because I am positive of it!” és How?’ ‘*T am possessed of papers that charge Paul Vermilye with having stolen the child, and you have said Paul Vermilye and Roth Roulere were one—or, in fact, it has been clearly proven 80.” ‘‘Yes, my boy, Mai Roulere is rightfully Minnie Miles. Her own father is now in Played- Out.” ‘*'You have seen him?” “*T have.” ‘Well, that settles that. Mai Roulere is to be the future Mrs. Christofer Bricktop.” ‘*Wibu don’t say! You have made a wise choice, boy, for if she is like her mother, she is ag an el,’ ‘Bet she is! And now, Martha, who am J ? You know me—I beg you to tell me who I am,” Martha gazed thoughtfully at the fire, over which a haunch of venison was roasting. In doing so, she also gave a covert glance at the white-haired woman, who sat bent forward with her face buried in ber colorless bands. “ Why do you want to know?” the old wo- man demanded, turning sharply upon Kit. “Are you not contented as you are? The knowledge of your parentage would likely add but little to your pleasure,” “ Nevertheless, it would be greatly to my satisfaction to know.” ‘‘Very well; bo seated,” and the hermitess drew a stool close to his and seated herself. ‘‘ As the two stories are connected, | may as well include them both in one!” she said, in a arded tone, evidently intending that only it should hear. ‘You remember I told you that Paul Ver- milye was the servant of a rich Southern gen- tleman?” sé Yes.” “Well, this gentleman was Morton Miles, then a very young and handsome married man. He had inherited a grand old estate from his father, and married the belle of the city near which he lived. Adjoining his estate was an- other of no insignificant value, also owned by a oung, but unmarried man, named Paul Slens- , who was, by the way, a second cousin of Bert Miles, and a wild, reckless fellow, to boot.” ** Yes; I understand.” Kit was beginning to see a glimmer of light on the subject. “This Paul Slensby was a suitor for the hand of the lady Morton Miles won, and when he found he had lost her, he swore vengeance. He apparently got all over his rage, however, for he soon after married a Miss Lennox.” Kit started. Then, after all, his boyish remembrance of the name was not a fancy! ‘‘By his wife, Paul Slenshy had three chil- dren. The first one died, when but a week old. a ———__—_—__—————————————————————————————————— en a | Kangaroo Kit’s Racket. child was the singular birth-mark, in the shape of a figure three! ‘‘Great Scott! father!” ‘“‘Heis. And, next to Paul Vermilye, a more villainous person never existed,” ‘‘T kinder think that way myself. But, go on.” ‘** Well, to explain the birth-mark, as near as ossible: Shortly before the first child was eeotey Slensby came bome one night, terribly intoxicated, and quarreled with his wife, who was a very peaceable woman, During the quarrel he became very violent, and cried, ‘*Curse you! curse you! I will kill you!” fol- lowing which, he struck ber three heavy blows on tbe breast. When their first child was born, it bore the figure three, where be had seized her left arm. It was the same with the second and the third child. You were the third. ‘‘A couple of months before your birth, his brutality became so great, that Mrs. Slensby was forced to leave him, and fly for her life. Her boy she left behind, knowing he would be an incumbrance to her, going out on the mer- ciless world as she was. She finally reached be tg and there you were born—in the Alms- Louse. ‘When you were six months old you were placed in a foundling asylum, and left there, as your mother could not work and attend to you, I found her, two years later, and took her into my cbarge, but notrace of you could ever be found!” ‘‘And, my mother—my mother?’ Kit cried, excitedly, the truth dawning upon him, ‘Is she yonder ladv?” ‘Yes, Kit— that is your poor, misused mother, whom I have watched over all these years, Wait! withhold your eagerness. Jessie! Jessie!” The silver-haired recluse looked up, quickly, eagerly. ‘*Come here, Jessie!” old Martha said, in a kindly tone, Jessie arose and glided toward them, her hands clasped before her, her wildly beautiful eyes and pale face wearing an anxious, ex- pectant expression. ‘*What isit M rtha?”’ she asked in a tremu- lous voice. ‘‘I was looking back over the sad, sad pst.” ‘You mustn’t do it, Jessie. It only makes you miserable. Jessie, dear, Paul Slensby and your eldest son are in Played-Out camp. Would you like to see them?” A shudder traversed her figure. “ No! no!” she gasped, a look of utter horror coming over her face; ‘‘ not him, anyhow. Ob! no! no!” ‘*There, now, do not be agitated. He shall not trouble you. I have seen them both, Jessie, and I believe father and son to be alike—of the same nature!” ‘*Then, I do not want to see either. I could see the father’s nature reflected in the face of the child, when he was born. It was not so with my other boy, Martha—he was my boy, for all the world. Ob! that merciless fate should have never made it necessary for us to separate—how happy I should now be!” ‘* Have you any idea that your other son still lives, Jessie?’ ‘*No! I have given up all ig 7 dreamed of seeing his sweet littl coffin.” ‘* Dreams go by contraries, Your youngest son still lives!’ ‘‘What? Ob! Martha! Why are you so ilar 2s to try to cheer me up, with a forlorn ope? ‘ It is not a forlorn hope. Your son now stands before you!” Kit had arisen, and stood with glistening eyes, and outstretched arms, to receive her. ‘* Mother, Iam your son!” he said. She uttered a piercing cry, her face became deathly white, and she fell forward in Kit’s arms, in a swoon, He carried her to a bed of skins and laid her gently down. At first it seemed as if she were dead, but the persitoens application of such restoratives as artha’s abode afforded, soon succeeded in re- storing her to consciousness, With her returning senses came literally a new life. She soon regained her reasoning faculties and was no longer dull and melancholy as be- fore. It was late in the day before Kit left the cavern, and when he did some arrangements were made which the reader will understand further on, With a newly-found mother and a betrothed wife, Kit felt bis cup of happiness was already Then Paul Slensby is my T have even e face in its you know, Jessie. The second and third ones lived. Upon each ! overflowing. 13 eT emi ae CHAPTER XIII. A TERRIBLE TEST. WHEN the happy-hearted Kit reacbed Played- Out, he found a note awaiting him in the Olym- pic saloon. It was in an unfamiliar hand, and he opened it with some curiosity. It proved to be trom no one else than Byron Milton, and was couched in the following: language. ‘**Mr. Kit Bricktrop, Sir:—I desire to meet you immediately, with pistols, to decide our respective claims to the hand of Miss Roulere. I have sworn to possess her, and have evidence that you will as- sert your claims. Two of us cannot have her, and ou shall vot, if I have to shoot you at the altar. herefore, the only way to settle ft is by an honor- able meeting on the field. ‘**'Yours, ** BYRON MILTON.” Kit went to his office, sat down, read the epistle over a second time, and then indulged in a laugh. ‘* Well, chaw my nose ef the feller ain’t cut- ting big spurs since he licked Leech,” he mut- tered; ‘‘ and he’s got the cheek to invite me to trim ’em for him, Guess like enuff Mai has let the cat out of the bag, and told him to skip. Somehow these pretty females can’t keep a close lip. Wonder how I better do?” He cogitated a few minutes—then seizing a pen, dusbed off the following: ‘‘Mr. Byron MILTON SHAKESPEARE SLENSBY, ** Foet Laureate of Played-Out :;— “*Srr:—Your e-pistol at hand, As my shootin’- irons ain’t in good dueling order, and as Iam not de- sirous of increasing my death-roll—having killed my hundred and fourth man, several days since, I must respectfully decline your magnanimous imvitation. I would say, however, that Barker, the grocery man, has received a fresh barrel of tar, and my hostelry affords an excellent supply of geese fea- thers. Soif you don’t get out of this town inside of twenty-four hours, you will be treated to a tar and feather serenade as sure as Il am yours truly ** KANGAROO Kir.” Placing this in an envelope, be sent a hoy with it, to bunt up Milton, “‘Won’t he bile, though, and slop over the sides, when he gits that!” Kit chuckled, ‘‘ An’ accordin’ to Hoyle, this same snoozer is my be- loved brother!’ Ob! there will be a funeral around here, scon. Reckon I better get out- side so as to enjoy the procession.” He first, however, penned the following, and left it at the hotel cffice, to be given to Morton Miles: “Morton Mites, Esq:— ‘* To-night, at 244 A.M.,in saloon. Rapthree times, at back door. Girl found, OLD OxForRD.”’ On second thought, Kit had the message car- ried up to the Soutberner’s room. ‘Tl wonder if the old gent will have gumpiion enough not to play dead into my royal dad’s hands,” be muttered, as he went out on tho pease, in anticipation of the arrival of the pro- yably furious poet. Slensby and Mr, Miles were both sitting in the wrens room, smoking, when the message ar- rived, Mr. Miles was looking greatly more cheerful and active than for several days past, much to the annoyance of Slensby, ‘‘Ah! we have rews at last,” Miles said, glancing at the superscription upon the enyel- ope. ‘‘It is from the strange incognito.” He opened and perused it, and handed it to Slensby. ‘There! what do you tbink of it?” “* But devilish little,” the villain replied, after glancing over it. “If I were you I’d pay no attention toit. It’s some trap, and before you get out of it I’']] wager you'll get bled of some of your loose cash,” **Tll take the chances. We can never expect to follow up the trail of that villain Vermilye without the papers,” ‘* Well, if you’re in for it, of course I’m with you. But look here; it isin the dead of night, when no one is abroad. It won’t do for us to be unprepared,” ‘*Ob, of course not, I ee a But that is insufficievt. I have a far better idea. ** Well, out with it!” ‘* You see, I have made the acquaintance of a first-class young fellow named Milton. They say he’s a tiger in a fight. If you’ve no objec- tion, I'll arrange for him to accompany us.” ‘Oh, I’ve no objections, Three men are more than two, of course.” ‘Certainly. This Milton is really a prince of good fellows. By the way, Morton, I made a strange resolution, last night, on retiring. Igot thinking the matter over, and have concinded to make a will. Of course this Mfe is uncertain I always carry a revol- icbooks.com