Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 387 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

a SS RE ey 10 ‘“*My poor desolate child; may God have mercy upon you.”’ Warpath Will came forward then, and, as tender- ly as a woman might have done, he moved Mrs. Marsden into a more comfortable position and gave her a few drops of Jiquor from a flask he carried. His manner was most gentle, his voice soft and soothing, and he no longer Ppprered the borderman whose name was a terror to his foes. The liquor revived Mrs. Marsden, and then War- path Will said: “Tt is my duty to tell you, Mrs. Marsden, that this attack is fatal, so that you can say what is mecessary to your daughter.”’ “IT know it,’’ said the poor woman. **T will leave you alone with her; but let me cheer your dying hours by assuring you that I will be her friend, her protector, yes, her brother, until she be- comes nearer to me, which I hope she may, for l love her with my whole soul, ‘*I have money, 1 have a pleasant home, and I will devote my life to her, giving up the wild career Iam now following. *-T told Captain Champion a falsehood, but 1 did it for a purpose, for as my wife, he could lay no claim to Miss Cleone, which otherwise he would do. “Are you listening, my dear Mrs. Marsden?”’’ asked Warpath Will in the same gentle voice he had spoken all along. ‘*T hear every word,” said Mrs, Marsden distinctly, while Cleone crouched near her, her head buried in her hands. “I told Captain Champion we had been recently married, and that my claim was above that of even the Prophet. ‘‘So 1 saved Miss Cleone from a life of wretched- ness, and, if she cares not to accept me as her pro- tector through coming years, she is at liberty to re- turn to her father and brother, under whose care I will place her. “Now, Mrs. Marsden, feel no worry regarding your daughter, for you can trust me in all faith.”’ He arose and left the cabin, and mother and daughter were alone, ** Do you love him, Cleone “No! no! no! Mother, nor could I ever do so,”’ 5 J He is kind and noble, and he has done much for us,”? “True, mother, but yet I fear him, I doubt him.”’ ‘* Still it were better his wife than the bride of a Mormon.”’ “Do not speak of it, mother: but feel assured that I will be his wife before I allow myself to become a Mormon’s bride.”’ “Bless you, Cleone, my child,” murmured the mother, and then she went on to speak of the ab- roe son and husband, and left little messages for them. Gradually her voice grew fainter, her tones sunk into a whisper, and then ceased while breathing a prayer for her desolate child. Cleone knew that she was dead, and bent over her and wept bitterly. Softly into the cabin came Warpath Will, and he saw that all was over. He gently drew the weeping girl away, removed the body to the rear of the room and infolded it ina blanket, taking from about the neck a chain, to which was attached a locket with a miniature like- ness of Don Marsden. This he bung about the neck of Cleone, and she said in a low tone: ** Thank you; it was kind of you.”’ Then he made a couch for Cleone before the fire, and said: “Tam going out now, so retire and get rest, for you will need all your strength. ‘“*T will awaken you at sunrise.”’ She arose and sunk down mechanically upon the couch, while he threw more wood upon the fire and left the cabin. He then found his horse, and, staking the animal out, he set to work with pick and shovel, taken from the cabin, to dig a grave. AS) a long time he worked, and at last it was fin- shed. Then he wrapped his blankets about him and lay down to rest. It was dawn when he awoke, and he built a fire near the cabin, took his traps from his saddle and began to prepare breakfast. Some birds he had shot the day before were put to broil upon the hot coals, and a pot of coffee with some crackers comprised the meal. When all was ready he knocked at the door and it was opened by Cleone. Her face showed how she had suffered, but she had dropped to sleep toward morning and felt re- freshed. ‘* You are very kind,” she said faintly, as shesaw what he had done, and then, as her eyes fell upon the grave, they filled with tears and she repeated: “Yes, you are ever so kind to me.”’ Acup of coffee and a very slight breakfast was all that she could eat, and then Warpath Willsaid: *T will bury her now; would you have me repeat the service tor the dead over her? I know it by heart.”’ ** Oh sir, indeed T woul,” she said earnestly. He brought the body from the cabin, placed it ently in the grave, and then in his deep, impressive ones recited the service for thedead. It was a painful, a touching scene, and one that Cleone Marsden never forgot. After all was over, the guide said: ‘“‘To remain here would be dangerous, so I will take you to your father and brother, for we will doubtless meet them on the way.” ** You know best, sir,’’ was the low reply. He left her to get ready, while he walked down 9?) . : 4 Hiod # Bis Phas “ut : ** t i - A ; Tins _— af» i v4 ‘9 ; 4 4 4 fe x . *; » . . a y q 7 SS CaO) eS eg ae eRe ais 0 yd . a 3 . = ua “ . *; ' . . Se ss Perera e Ta SE nn re ar ey ee ee Ler ~ i See eee ————— _* « > : a ¢ a ert any . the mountain spur, which terminated in the cliff overhanging the canyon. He was gone perhaps an hour, and Cleone, in her desolation, began to grow anxious, as she sat by her mother’s grave awaiting his return. Soon he appeared, mounted upon his horse, and leading, to her surprise, her own borse, with her saddle and bridle thereon, She was about to ask him how he came by the animal, which her brother had led away with him, when he said: ‘** Miss Cleone, I was fortunate enough to get your own horse, which escaped from your brother, and was picked up by the band of Captain Champion. ‘Your brother evidently did not care to telay, or tire his horse out in trying to catch your pony, so went on without him,” ‘* You are sure no harm has befallen Guy?” she asked anxiously, “Oh no, he is well able to take care of himself, and by this time must have reached his father, so that we will meet them returning for you.”’ **Do you not think that I had better await them here, for my father will wish to see my mother’s grave?” ‘‘T would say remain, only there are roving bands about that might come here at any moment and the mountain outlaws will not respect my signet as did Captain Champion.”’ **1 will be guided by you, then,’ was the an- swer, and she allowed him to seat her in the saddle, and mounting his own horse they rode away slowly from the fateful spot, CHAPTER XVII. THE MYSTERIOUS CHINEE. THE person who had so unexpectedly appeared upon the cliff, and frightened the wolves away from the grave into which Guy Marsden had just been thrown, was a most remarkable-looking individual, He had ascended to the cliff by the tree growing in the canyon, and sprung out upon the rocks with an agility that was remarkable. As he advanced into the light of the fire it could be seen that he was a Chinee, He was taller than the average of his race, by far, had great broad shoulders, wore the costume of his country, excepting that his feet were fcased in moccasins and his head was surmount.d by a biack sombrero with a broad brim, About his waist was a belt of arms, two revolvers and a long-bladed knife, and at his back hung a re- peating rifle. His hair was worn according to the style of his countrymen, in one long pig-tail behind, and to the end was tied a revolver which swung to and fro as he moved like a pendulum. Certainly he was a remarkable-looking individual, and yet his face was an attractive one, though it wore the traditional cunning look, with the child- like grin for which his countrymen are so noted. As though conscious that he had nothing to fear there, he strode directly toward the grave. It seemed, by his actions, that he had seen from his ai z the tree all that had taken place there on the chi, Leaning over as he knelt upon the the fresh earth, he thrust his arms down into the grave, and then rising he held in his strong grip the form of Guy Marsden. ** Not deadee! me know allee time,’ he muttered, as he shook the earth from the clothes and carefully wiped the dirt from the pale face. nto the cabin he bore the limp form and placed it before the hearth. Then he built a bright fire, and seating himself by the side of the boy gazed into his face intently. “ Have breathe allee samee,” he murmured, and stripping away his hunting-shirt he gazed long and fixedly at the wound, The bullet had entered his right side, and the the wound was still bleeding slowly. The Chinee took from a capacious receptacle somewhere about his inysterious costume a smal box, which seemed to contain a vast assortment of odds and enas. Selecting a pair of long tweezers, heJinserted the smaller end into the wound. . Guy flinched as it entered, and the Chinee smiled and said: ** Allee lightee,”’ He moved the improvised probe about for awhile, and then took the tweezer end and inserted it into the wound. After some time he drew it forth and the tweezers held the bullet. ‘** Allee lightee,’’ he repeated, and then he began to dress the wound most carefully. Again he had recourse to some hiddeti pocket and produced therefrom a roll of linen and a bottle of ointment. The latter he poured upon the wound and then bound it up with the linen, again expressing his satisfaction with his ‘* Allee lightee.” Having extracted the bullet and dressed the wound, the Chinee began to bathe the face of the wounded boy with cool water, brought from a spring on the cliff, and made him as comfortable as he possibly could. Guy soon showed evidence of returning conscious- ness and strength, and the Chinee gazed at him with delight in his face. At last Guy opened his eyes and gazed listlessly about him. ‘*Am T not dead?’ he asked, faintly, as the mem- ory of the execution flashed before him. **No deadve. but muchee sickee, ‘*Keepee quiet and get along allee lightee.”’ The words turned the boy’s eyes upon the speaker, Warpath Will, the Traitor Guide. “Who are you?”’ he asked. ‘* Chinee man, takee care of ’Melican boyee.”’ ** Was I not shot down?” ** Yes, shootee downee, but I takee upee.”’ ‘* Where am I?” “In cabin,”’ ‘Yes, and my mother is dead, my sister gone I know not where. ‘*T was a prisoner to the band of Captain Cham- pion. ‘*“T remember all now; but who are you?” ‘*Me Chinaman,”’ ‘What are you doing here?” ‘* Livee allee round,”’ ‘Well, you have been kind to me, and I thank you; but am 1 not very badly wounded?”’ **No goodee wound; but keepee quiet, and we takee care of you allee lightee.”’ ‘‘T will do as you tell me, for I have much to live for. ‘‘ Ay, and I will live to avenge those I love.” He spoke hoarsely, and his lips were set firmly. ‘‘Talkee little now, muchee when allee lightee,’” said the Chinee, and realizing the worth of the Chinaman’s advice, Guy Marsden turned his eyes from the firelight and sunk into a deep sleep. CHAPTER XVIII. A CHINAMAN AT BAY. Tue Chinaman, who had, from his roost in the tree, seen all that took place on the cliff, and had, after the departure of the outlaws, for they were nothing else, so befriended Guy Marsden, seemed determined to continuein his good work after he saw the wounded boy asleep. He went out of the cabin and brought in plenty of wood, and then, driving off the wolves, which ad again returned, set to work filling in the grave, for, when he took Guy out of if, he had noticed that he was not the only occupant. Ascertaining first that the one therein was eey, dead, he filled it in compactly, made a neat mound, and then drew over it heavy branches of trees, blown down by the winds, to protect it from wild beasts. . It was now dawn, and he returned to the cabin, to find Guy still sleeping. Then he set out along the spur and disappeared in the thick timber of the mountain, Soon the crack of his rifle was heard, and then again, and he came back bearing upon his strong shoulders a mountain deer and a squirrel. Again he entered tne cabin, but Guy still slept. Going nearer he heard him breathing softly, and with his inimitable ‘‘ Allee lightee,”’ he walked out into the open air once more. Searching in his blouse, he drew forth a bag of rice, and a pint of it he put into a pan, along with a piece of venison cut from a choice part of the animal. Putting some cold water into the pan, he set it upon the fire and watched it as it began to stew. ‘*Makee goodee soup; makee boyee strong,”’ he said with satisfaction, as he skinned and dressed his. squirrel, which he placed on the coals for his own breakfast, along with a tin cup of coffee. Eating his breakfast in silence, but with exceeding great gusto, he again took a peep into the cabin. But his patient still slept. ‘*Makee muchee strong, plentee sleepee,’’ he mut- tered, as he set to work rubbing up his weapons and setting things to right, as though he expected to depart at an*instant’s notice. Again he entered the cabin, and found Guy’s eyes fixed upon him. ‘* Feelee allee lightee?’’ he asked, as he approach- ed and squatted down by the wounded boy. ‘‘T remember you now; you were so kind to me before I went to sleep. ‘* Yes, I feel much better, but suffer here,’’ and he placed his hands upon his wound, ‘Tt allee lightee bime-by; but habee some soupee?”’ and he skipped out and brought in a cook drink of water, which Guy drank with a relish. Then he bathed his face and hands most tenderly, gave him some medicine he took from a small bot- tle, and next dressed his wound as softly as a woman could have done. ** Now soupee,”’ he said, and he went after the rice and venison soup he had. made. Guy drank some of it with evident relish, and would have taken much more had not the Chinee drawn it away with the wise remark: ‘* Little bittee goodee; big bittee bad.”’ ‘* Who are you?’ asked Guy, with curiosity. ** Chinaman.,”’ Guy smiled and said: ‘‘There were some Chinamen in the mines a few months ago; were you at Lost Hope City?” ‘ 0 ’ ‘* Where is your home?”’ ‘* Habee no home,”’ *“ What are you doing here?”’ ‘*Takee care "Melican boyee.” “Yes, and taking good care of me, too; butas you~ will not tell me about yourself, tell me your name— mine is Guy Marsden,” ‘* No likee long namee; callee Boyee.”’ ‘* All right; and what shall I call you?” ‘** Callee me China.”’ ** All right.” ‘* Allee lightee; now no talkee, but sleepee more, makee strong.”’ With this he stepped to the door, and, as though anticipating a long stay, he began to ather quanti- se fallen wood and pile it up by the side of the cabin. When returning from one of these pilgrimages to the mountain-side, dragging a huge limb after him, he suddenly came to a halt and sprung for shelter