Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 387 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

8 while the grave of Mrs. Marsden was still left open. Tbe shadows of night soon crept over the scene, and the men sat down to their supper. Guy’s feet were left secured, but his hands were unbound, and he was placed by the fire with the remark: ‘‘ Better eat hearty, boy, for it is your last meal.” In spite of his sorrow, suspense, and almost hopeless condition, Guy did eat heartily, for his eye was upon any chance of escape, and he wished to keep up his strength. “Do you know who murdered my mother?” he asked of the man who appeared to be acting as leader, and who was a gaunt, cadaverous- faced fellow who had the look of an itinerant parson. ‘* Was she murdered!” «és Yes.” **'You know that?” ‘‘T feel it, and wish to know who did it?” ** Ask the cap’n.” ** He is in Salt Lake, you say?” ‘¢ Yes, he has gone there.” ‘‘ And where is my sister?’ ‘* Ask the cap’n.” ‘* He knows?” **T guess.” ‘And what has become of Warpath Will?” Tne men looked at each other and smiled, while the leader said again: ‘* Ask the cap’n.”’ ‘‘Your captain seems to know everything,” sneered Guy. ‘*Guess he does.” ‘‘ And do you know what you intend to do with me?” sé Yes.”’ ‘‘You will not have to tell me to ask the cap- tain to find out?” +s No.” ‘© What will be my fate, then?’ ‘* You will be killec,” was the cool] reply. Guy’s face paled, but he did not show a tremor of fear. = drooped his eyes for a moment and then said: ‘* How have I harmed you?” ‘‘ Ask the cap’n.” ‘‘Does be meen that I shall die?” 46 Yes.”’ ‘* And you came here to seek me?” 66 Yes.” ‘When will you kill me?” ‘Almost any time: here, Doc, tie bim up again,” said the leader, and Guy found himself once more secured and left lying by the fire. One by one the men rolled themselves in their blankets and lay down to sleep, while one shouldered his rifle and went off, along the spur to stand guard. Guy could not sleep. It would have been a mercy to him if he could have done so. The moans of the man he had wounded rung in his ears, as the wretch tossed in his sleep. The graves of those he had slain were in the circle of the firelight, and the open grave of his poor mother was but a few paces distant from im What fate had befallen his sister he did not know, and whether Warpath Will was dead or alive he could not tell. His father might be dead, or living, might be suffering agony as a captive to the Indians or Mormons, while bis own fate hung in the bal- ance, and was at the mercy of men who seemed to bave no mercy in their hearts. Suddenly Guy heard a challenge off along the spur. The guard had evidently halted some one. Ananswer was given, and then two persons ap- prosched the cabin, one on foot the othermounted. The horseman was Pistol Pete, as Guy saw at a glance. e dared not show any recognition of him, as he approached the camp-fire, but watcbed him closely. ‘* Ho, pards, yer bas ter be up and slopin’, fer I has orders from ther cap’n ter bring yer at all speed,” called out Pistol Pete. The men sprung to their feet hastily and the leader asked: ‘*What’s up, Pete?” ‘Tf dunno, but you is wanted, and immediate, so let’s be off. ‘*Got any cold grub around, thet I kin chaw on while yer is gittin’ saddled up?” ‘‘-Yes, there is some, help yourself,” and the leader pointed to the remnants of the supper, and Pistol Pete belped himself with the air of a hungry man, while the rest of the band began to get ready to depart. Warpath Will, the Traitor Guide. “Hello, who is you?’ asked Pistol Pete, his eyes falling upon Guy. ‘‘ We have met before,” answered the boy in a low tone, ‘Yas, and you is havin’ a hard timeo’ it, boy, and I feels sorry for yer.” ‘‘Then cut my bonds and let me escape, for I can go over the cliff by the tree yonder,” con- tinued Guy in the same low tone, ‘‘ W’u’dn’t dare do it for a thousand dollars.” ‘*T’ll give you more, if you will.” ** Has you got it?” ‘‘T have a secret that will pan out a fortune for you if you let me go.” ** How’ll I get it?” ‘Go with me,” ‘“T hev half a min’ ter trust yer.” ** ‘You can.” “Waal, Ill doit, and let yer £0; but I 20 with t’others now, so jist tel find yer one week from ter-day?”’ ‘Right here.” “Il do it,” and Pistol Pete was about to bend over and sever the bonds that secured Guy, when the leader approached and called out: ‘‘ Well, boy, as you shot two of our horses, there is nothing for you to ride, so you'll have to remain behind.” ‘Tt matters not to me,” was the reply. ‘‘You’ve got more pluck than I ever saw done up in one person before, and I hate to kill you; but must obey orders.” ‘“You don’t mean ter kill him, does yer, Brass?” asked Pistol Pete. 6c I do,” ** When?” ‘** Before we start.” : ‘‘Thet are too bad ter kill ther boy.” ‘Yes, but he will soon be a man, and the result to us then will be death, for he is a terror now.” ‘‘Let him go, lieutenant,” urged Pistol Pete. ‘* No, he must die,” ‘“ Waal thet are too bad,” but hedn’t yer bet- ter let ther cap’n see him?” ‘‘T have my orders from Captain Champ, Pete.” ‘‘ Waal, thar are no use talkin’ then?” ** None.” Pistol Pete looked sad, but whether at the prospect of Guy’s death, or the thought of by it losing his fortune, it is hard to tell. As for the poor young captive, he seemed to feel that they would kill bim, and he nerved himself to meet his fate bravely and let them see that he could die without fear. ‘‘ Pete, put the youngster over there, just ten steps off, and I’ll end his suspense,” said Brass, in a cruel, cold tone, ‘‘ Lieutenant, I are sufferin’ ther agonies 0’ sin, and it w’u’d help my arm amazin ef yer’d let me draw trigger on bim,” called out Hank as he came forward, moving his wounded arm. ‘¢ All right, Hank, you have the best right. ** Come, youngster, you have just one mint- ute to live,” and taking the arm of the boy the cruel man led him to a spot where the firelight fell full upon him. CHAPTER XIII. A MERCILESS ACT. “OnE minute to live,” repeated Guy, and life seemed suddenly black before him. To go out of the world in bis youth, on the very threshold of fortune, and hope, as it had been but a few days ago, was fearful to con- template. A sudden destiny seemed to have come over those of his name to be snatched from life with- out warning. But he would not shrink from his fate; be would meet it unflinchingly. Just as he was led to the place, where he was to stand snd _ be shot down, he saw the men rid- ing. up with their horses saddled and bridled. hey were gazing at him without one atom of mercy in their faces, ard one of them asked roughly: ‘Goin’ ter call in ther boy’s chips, Brass?” sé Yes, ” ‘“Yas, he hain’t old enough ter enjoy life yit, so he wont miss it,” said another. “Who are goin’ ter do ther shootin’?” asked a third, as though anxious for the position of ex- ecutioner. ‘“‘T is,” replied Hank savagely, and he added: ‘““T’ll git a leetle even tharby fer this arm 0’ mine.” ‘‘Kin yer shoot with yer left hand, Hank?” ‘‘] kin, as yer will see, ef yer looks on.” ‘‘ Boy, were you taught to pray?’ rudely asked Brass. sé Yes,” qs ter me whar | kin ~ wag) . . “Then say your prayers, for your tim about here. Get ready, Hank.” The man took his place, some fifteen feet from where Guy stood, and cocked his revolver, hold- ing it in his left hand. he others stood around, or sat on their horses, gazing with seeming interest, yet without mercy upon the sad scene. Pistol Pete stood to one side, with a look of regret upon his face, though it was hard to an- alyze the cause, as to its being called there b sorrow, or greed at the loss of fortune throug the boy’s death. Brass, the lieutenant, and leader, in the ab- sence of Captain Champion, stood one side, a few feet from the boy and held alarge gold watch in his hand. As for Guy Marsden, he stood upright, his bands bound behind his back, his ankles tied firmly, and his face turned upon the merciless crew. He was very pale, his features seemed as though cut from marble, but not a tremor went a his form, and not a quiver was upon is lip. Fearlessly, defiantly he faced bis executioner, though now and then he would raise bis eyes as if in silent prayer. ‘‘T are ready, Brass,” said Hank. ‘‘ All right; boy, your time is up. ‘‘ Hank, fire for his heart, and do your work well,” was the response of Brass, the leader of the merciless band, ‘‘1] do it prime, ef my right arm are ina sling, and I has ter shoot with my left,” was the answer of the brute with painful deliberation. As he spoke he slowly raised his weapon and aimed at Guy’s head. Then he lowered it, and leveled the weapon at the boy’s heart. As he did this, drawing out the suspense pain- fully, Guy Marsden’s lips moved slightly and he turned his eyes sadly toward his mother’s grave. ‘‘Fire, if you are going to, Hank, or let somebody else do the job, for we must be off,” sternly said Brass, and with his last word the wicked executioner raised his revolver for the third time. When the muzzle pointed at the beart of the brave boy, he pulled the trigger. With the report, a moan broke from Guy’s lips, and while the blood spouted from the wound in his breast, he sunk to the earth. ‘Throw him in the grave with his mother, Hank, and fill it up,” ordered Brass, ‘¢T hev done my job, Brass, so let them as has two arms do ther balance,” was the sullen reply. At this Pistol Pete stepped forward, bent over the form and raising it in his arms bore it to the grave. Into it he let it fall gently, and then, seizing the shovel, which Guy had himself left sticking in the dirt, began to throw in the earth. ‘*Come, Pete, lead the way to where ‘we are to join the captain,” called out Brass, mounting his borse. A few more shovelfuls of earth Pistol Pete threw into the grave and then hastily followed the others, muttering to himself: ‘‘ Tt were an infamous shame it were, ter kill thet boy, fer ef be had lived, he’d bev done ther squar’ thing, I knows.” Mounting his horse he too rode away from the fatal spot. The fire still burned brightly, casting dancing shadows far off, and only the crackling of the logs broke the stillness of the night for some minutes. Then the deep how] of a wolf, scenting a feast was beard, and soon the hideous brute came ina in sight, and anxiously gazing at the re. Another long-drawn-out howl, and another wolf appeared. Sniffing the air they started toward the grave, not yet filled with earth. Then another came, and another, all eagerly gazing at the light, and rangiug themselves about the grave. A wild yell in chorus, and seeing no one come from the cabin to disturb them, the serene brutes were about to pounce down into the grave, when a yell startled them, and a human form sprung from the limb of the tree grow- ing in the canyon, upon the cliff, scattering the wolves in flight, growling furiously at their disappointment. CHAPTER XIV. A SURPRISE. 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