Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 348 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

+ | —. PS Tees him ki ers Was it Frank Belton?” oe . “No need of thanks,” was the answer. ‘I saw him aim the rifle at you, and fortunately, I was near enough to run up behind bim and knock up the piece, just as he was pulling the trigger, thus causing the bullet to pass over your head! Then I made off, and was glad to see him go the other way, for I thought he would try to wreak vengeance on me for saving ou. _ “That is why he ran,” answered Lona, point- ing to a party of the Omahas, who were ap- proacbing. ‘*T am glad of it. ‘death!” He shrugged his shoulders, and turned pale as he spoke. ‘* Where has the white boy seen it?” inquired na. The youth started, and looked at her keenly from under the rim of bis slouched hat, “Why do you ask?” be inquired, *Lona would like to know. She believes that he means the murder of the white girl when he speaks of death. Is not that so?” “Yes, you are right,” the other answered, after a moment’s hesitation. ‘*Did the white boy see who murdered the girl?” “* 3. aid;* ‘Who was it?” A flush, as of anger, appeared on the lad’s cheeks. ‘You question me too closely,” he said, im- ere ‘* The life of an innocent man is in danger,” replied Lona. ‘‘He has been accused of the crime. You know whom I mean, You saw bim last night.” “That young hunter?’ ‘‘'Yes. You know he did not do the deed?” “Oh, yes.” ‘*Then, to clear him, and get him out of trouble, the white boy should go before the jus- tice, and tell who killed the gir!.” The lad bowed his head. ‘** No, I cannot do that,” he said. **The white boy should do it. right.” ‘* Still I cannot.” ‘You shall do it!” cried Lona, with energy, stamping one little foot. ‘*'You cannot compel me against my will.” And he turned away, which, bowever, he bad scarcely done, when, taking a smail willow whistle from her pocket, Lona blew upon it a shrill blast. In an instant the band of Omahas, who had started in pursuit of Tamina, turned and hasten- ed toward the girl. The boy, seeing them coming, quickened bis pace along the inclined precipice which be was obliged to descend to reach an unobstructed path below, By the time he arrived there, however, the Omahas were only a few paces off. “To not hurt the white boy!” shouted Lona, “but let him be made prisoner!” The youth, perceiving he could not escape, stood motionless. Lona came up as her people surrounded him. sé Wh inquired Wono, the chief. with the whites.” She soon explained. | **He must taken to the gn pen she said, “He should be made to tell all he knows about the murder.” “Good!” said the chief. ‘‘The Omahas are glad if they can wa their friend, Fireheels.” ‘“You may as well let me go,” said the boy. **T shall tell nothing.” The Indians, however, accompanied by Lona, conducted the boy to Logville. The appearance of the band with their pris- oner created some excifement among the inhabitants of the settlement, and a crowd of men and boys followed them to the house of Justice Bole. | The latter came to the door, “What is this?” he inquired. Lona explained, and two of the Indians followed by the girl, were permitted to lead the prisoner into one of the rooms. ‘* What is your name?” inquired Bole. ‘*Charles Forner,” was the answer. “You saw the ee who killed the young er I have seen enough of It would be has Lona had the pale-face captured?” ‘We are at peace “And you know his name?” “ss oO. : we i “What was it?” ) “T refuse to answer that question.” % ’ ‘4 i) ve aa a gGae Te. 4 _ Fireheels; or, Old Sk —_—_— — truth,” added Lorne. ~~ ae Ga ae we 9 6 dl i he are or IS Oy get Tas eee | 4) ra on ae +f] . ah 7 “ he —- ll “* No.” ‘* You refuse to tell who it was?” **t do,” was the firm reply. ‘Do you know that such refusal is a crime?— that you can be locked up for it?” ‘*T am aware of that.” The justice scratched his nose thoughtfully. ‘‘T have a suspicion,” said he, ‘* that this is all a trumped-up story to screen that hunter, Frank Belton, who, it is evident, is really the guilty party. Do you know where Belton is?’ ‘*T do not.” ‘‘Humph! I have another suspicion,” contin- ued the justice, looking keenly at the youth, ‘‘and that is, that it was through your conniy- ance this Belton escaped from prison.” ‘‘[ had nothing to do with it,” was the reply. ‘‘T must have my friend, Mr. Lorne, here, to see what he thinks of this aifair,” said Bole, He turned to his clerk, a boy of about seven- teen, anc told him to bring Lorne to the house, The clerk at once departed on his mission, Bole having first drawn him to one side and whispered to bim. | A few moments later two stout men ap- peared, * You will\keep guard over this boy in the next room,” he said, ‘‘ You can withdraw,” he continued, addressing Lona and the two In- dians. ‘*‘ We have no further use for you.” The Indians left the room and went back to their camp, The windows of the apartment to which young Forner was now conducted, overlooked a path, bordered by shrubbery, leading through a gar- den to a small gate, in a bigh board fence. Both windows were open, affording a view of the distant mountain scenery, now growing dim in the twilight. Each of the men placed himself by an open window, and looked out. ‘* Here comes Mr. Lorne,” said one, a quarter of an hour later. Forner started, and turned deathly pale. He gazed at the figure of the youth who was approaching, until it was hidden by a neighbor- ing fence, Then he bounded to one of the windows, leap- ing through it ere the man stationed there could raise a hand to stop bim. The window was but nine feet above the ground, and the boy, unhurt by bis leap, sped rapidly along. — ‘Stop, there, stop!” shouted one of the men, raising a pistol ‘and pointing it toward the shrubbery, ‘‘or IT’) fire. After him, Jack!” he added to bis companion. But ere Jack could go, the door was quickly opened by the justice. ‘What's the matter?” “That boy has Sg SD answered the man with the pistol. ‘‘Shall I fire at bim?” ‘‘No usenow,” answered the justice, ‘‘ You would not be apt to hit him, as you cannot see him, “T think I can catch upto him,” said the man who had been called Jack. He was about to spring to the ground when Bole stopped him. ‘* No use,” he repeated. ed-up affair—that story of his, anyway. see about looking him up to-morrow.” The men withdrew, after which the justice, rather pleased than otherwise at Forner’s escape, returned to his room, rubbing his hands, Soon after Lorne appeared, and to him Bole described what bad lately taken place. The face of the youth fairly turned blue. ** You say he declared that he saw the person who killed the girl?” ‘Just so,” and the justice laughed incredu- lously. ‘Of course, it is a story invented to screen Belton—the really guilty party.” “Oh, of course,” said Lorne; ‘for else the witness you speak of must have been a little in- sane.” ‘‘He appeared to be sane enough, At all events, he was enough so to get away.” And again the justice laughed. ‘You bave sent no onein pursuit of him?” “Certainly not. It was not necessarv. Toa person of my penetration, the whole effair was plain enough. We do not want this boy. His testimony would be worthless—hey ?” “Of course it would. In my opinion, there can be no doubt that Belton is the guilty party. That Indian girl, Lona, was always friendly to the hunter, and she has got this boy fo come and testify solely for the purpose of shielding Belton.” “My Own opinion exactly,” “Still, if you think the boy really told the sé You—” “Tt was alla trump- I will inflint, the Death-Shadow. | wee vee oes 4 “fn % AA lf >> PN | ee a! A ) ; ae » & 4 4 + em v% - ty +4 ™, ° * bg ai * 7% Ue % ; \/. - ae es ee oes ** No, no, sir. time.” | ‘* You say he would not tell who the person was that—that he saw kill the girl?’ ‘* Exactly—that of itself proves there was no truth in his story.” ‘* Yes, I did not think of that.” ; ‘‘In my capacity of justice J think of every- thing,” said Bole, with an importantair. ‘* Not the slightest trifle escapes my notice.” ‘‘True! you certainly are well fitted for your position.” ‘‘And I may say,” responded Bole, cordially grasping Lorne’s hand—‘‘ that your apprecia- of my worth is of more consequence to me even than my salary!” ‘*T am glad to hear you say so,” responded Lorne, “for mest of the people of Logville being poor, there bas been some talk of reduc- ing your salary a trifle, and—” ‘“ Not to be thought of—not to be thought of for a moment!” cried the justice, excitedly. ‘““This idea must be put down—must be crushed at once!” And Bole stamped the floor, as if to crush it, then and there. ‘Twas going to say that I would use my ut- most efforts to oppose the measure,” said Lorne, ‘and not only that, but would try to have your wages increased !” Bole’s visage fairly beamed. ‘* Tf ever there was a man of unsullied honor, sir—a man of the most spotless integrity—a man of—” ‘‘That will do, sir, you overpower me,” said Lorne. A few moments later he had left the house, CHAPTER XI. THE CHAINED CAPTIVE. ‘THE hypocrite,” thought Lorne, as he walk- ed along. ‘Still he is just the man I want to hold the position he does, and I must try to in- crease his salary, But heis a disgusting wretch in some things.” The youth moved on until he reached bis house. He remained there only a few minutes, when, having whispered to the old woman who acted as his servant and housekeeper, he quitted the building. He bent bis way toward the mountains, a as he hurried on, he was not aware that he was being followed. It was the bov, Forner, who endeavoring to keep him in sight, glided along behind bim, now and then dodging under a bush or a rocky projection, when it chanced that the young outlaw turned bis head. Finally, going into an old, dilapidated-look- ing hut, Lorne disappeared from the gaze of his follower. The boy, however, kepton, and, at last, when close to the habitation, he peered into it. But he could discover nothing of the person who had entered it. Surprised at this, Forner looked around him. Tbe light of the moon streamed into the but, but the lad could see no place which could con- ceal the form of the outlaw. He looked at the ground, which was of bard clay, perfectly smooth, apparently, without @ break. ‘* This is strange enough,” he thought. He was about to go out, and conceal himself bebind a rock, in a position which would afford him a view of the interior of the hut, when he fancied he heard low voices directly beneath his feet, Instantly the truth was made evident to bim, There was a trap door, probably covered by the hard clay, in the floor. He waited until he could no longer hear the voices, when, stooping, he felt about the ground. At length balf buried in the clay, he touched & piece of rope. ulling upon this, be raised a small trap-door, which, as he had divined, had been hidden by the clay that covered it. The boy now beheld the floor of a pit, about four feet beneath bim. He descended into it, to find himself in front of an opening, beyoud which was a passage, slanting downward, A dim light showed bim that this passage was rocky, evidently leading into some chamber or vault below, where a lamp shed a faint light. Moving along the passage, he soon came to this vault, and saw the lamp, which was placed in a niche in the rocky wait The sound of voices fell upon bis ear, He saw a door and, peering through a crevice, he beheld a large cavern, in which were seated about twenty fierce-looking young men, with Lorne among them. “ A robbers’ den,” thought Forner. omy fu * ‘ "I 4 “ - - rm OmicDoo! - = . — ——— “~~ yee > It would be mere waste of Tt ld aren a af , ee © « i i * ae