Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 408 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

G Little Leather-Breeches. © ee. = -— —o —_—_—- — over a cliff! Has it fixed him for good and all?’ ‘‘ But Belle Briggs!” interposed Little Leather- Breeches. ‘‘ Boys, tramp around here lively! She must be under the snow!” But no trace of her was found. ‘‘She must have been able to walk off,” said Andy Morrison. ‘But she could not go far. Belle! Belle! Belle!” And Little Leather-Breeches shouted her name at the top of his lungs. No response came. The others joined him in a united halloo, with the same depressing result. “She may have been thrown out somewhere along the way,” said Little Leather-Breeches, his heart sinking at the thought. ‘“Look a-hyer,” suggested Old-man Van Dyke. ‘*‘The witch’s hut oughtn’t to be so very fur off. She might ’a’ made her way thar.” Our hero caught at this hope. — A They toiled forward up the steep to the witch’s ut. There were no windows in the hut: but the door was so ill-fitted that a ruddy glow of a brilliant fire shone through the chinks. “ Hallo within!” cried Little Leather-Breeches, rapping on the door, which was all the worse for the rude entry of the mob a few weeks before. ‘“What d’ye want?’ was the querulous de- mand. ‘‘Can’t ye let a poor lone woman bide in peace? Stay where ye are, with the curse of ceeded to tell all about it, making it as much worse than the present storm as his imagination would permit, In the midst of his description they were star- tled by a series of yells, the clatter of hoofs and rattling of wheels, and the screams of a woman. ‘* Good heavens! what’s that?” They sprurvg to the door, to be blinded and have their breath taken away by the fierce as- saults of the elements, The light streaming through the door showed them a runaway team tearing by. ‘* The Mad Millionaire!” ‘* With a woman in the wagon! be!” ‘* Whoever it is, her life ain’t worth two bits, out in a night like this!” ‘“ We can’t stand hyer an’ let her perish?” ‘“'What’s the reason we can’t? The man that roes out in that blow had better git measured ur his coffin! That’s my advice!” While they stood debating the question, a dark object was seen to approach. It was some one staggering through the snow, swept now this way, now that, by the furious blasts. ‘* Look! he’s down!” ‘‘ Lend a hand till we snake him in hye They rushed out, caught the fallen man by the shoulders, and set him on his feet. ‘‘ Hyer, friend! we'll soon have you in a more comfortable berth than this!” * Van,”—which was short for Van Dyke— ‘‘vouw’re just the man I want to see!” ‘* Hallo! it’s Little Leather-Breeches! What in Cain air you doin’ out hyer?”’ “That’s you, Morrison, is it? ‘‘Sam Trueman, an’ don’t ye furgit it! But | wouldn’t ’a’ b’lieved you’d knock under, the little while this blizzard has been blowin’—hang ime ef I would!” ‘* Tt ain’t that,” gasped Little Leather-Breech- es, as they dragged him over the threshold, “but I’ve had an ugly wrench. I reckon it has nearly broke me in two!” ‘‘ What you’re wantin’ is three fingers o’ rum,” said Old-man Van Dyke, with unswerving faith in his universal remedy. ‘‘ That'll seti you all right in no time.” ‘What I want,” said Little Leather-Breeches to Deacon Tuttle, ‘‘is every lantern you can scare up, and a good man each to carry them.” In a word he told them, not the whole truth, but that the Mad Millionaire had taken Belle in his wagon and made off with her from the gathering at Ashmead’s. As they bustled about, each knowing where to get what was wanted as well as the proprietor himself, they made the natural demand: ‘‘ And whar’s they all? Hafn’t they got no lanterns up to Ashmead’s?” ‘They may be along presently. But every minute counts in such a night as this, so I hur- ried on for you fellows.” ** And right you was! at. the old stand!” ‘“ Come, then!” ‘Hold on! We don’t start without somethin’ warmin’! I’ve seen more days than you have, boy. Give the old man credit fur knowin’ a leetle somethin’.”’ They drank all round, while Little Leather- Breeches waited impatiently at the door. ‘Now, then!” he cried, as they approached, throwing open the door and leaping out, Old-man Van Dyke muttered something about youngsters, and followed less agilely. They went up the road as fast as they could make their way through the deepening snow and against the swirling wind, Little Leather-Breeches could not step with- out pain, for in his tussle he had received a bruise and wrench of the leg; but he kept on without murmuring. Two or three times ali of their lanterns were blown out at the same time, and they were left in total darkness. Then one had to take his lantern under his overcoat while another lighted it. So they reached the scene of the overturning of the wagon of the Mad Millionaire. ‘* Hyer’s something!” cried one. It was the vehicle already half-drifted over. ‘‘ Blow me if it takes long to cover things up hyer! Hyer’s the wagon, but neither hide nor hair of any livin’ critter!” ‘‘Hold on! Hyer’s somebody! Dash the light! . Hold yer lantern hyer, Sam.” ‘ Tt’s a man—the Mad Millionaire!” ‘‘He was pitched out when the wagon went over. It’s knocked him as stiff as a sledge- stake!” ‘It’s lucky for him that he wasn’t pitched Who can it you for but ill-usage!” ‘‘ You have to thank me that you have a roof over your head at all,” replied Little Leather- Breeches. ‘‘Come! open tous! All we want is to ask you a few questions.” The old beldam hobbled across the room, opened the door, and muttering inaudibly all the time, turned her back on her guests, and hobbled back to the fire, where she crouched for warmth, ‘‘ Have you seen anything of a young girl— Belle Briggs?” asked Little Leather-Breeches, glancing about, though he knew that there was no place in the hut where she could be secreted. ‘What! the accursed one?” asked the old witch, glaring around at him, ‘‘she with the blood on her soul?” The men stared. They had heard the gossip about the woful prophecy. But now they saw Little Leather-Breeches turn ghastly pale, and shudder. Old Mumbo Jumbo sprung up, and seizing her staff, waved him off with it, crying: ‘* Avaunt, with yer names of evil omen! Have ye come here to darken my threshold and bring down the wrathof heaven on me? Go! go! go!” She advanced upon him menacingly. “Take yer bloody tracks from my door!” she shouted, so shrilly that the men retreated before her, with a superstitious thrill. ‘For God’s sake, let us git out o’ hyer!” cried Old-man Van Dyke. ‘‘ Thar’s nothing to be got in this accursed place but ill-luck!” It was enough for Little Leather-Breeches that he despaired of finding Belle there. ‘‘Come!” he said. ‘* We must seek her along the road. She must have been thrown out be- fore the wagon overturned! My God! what will become of her? Belle! Belle! my darling!” The last he whisrered to himself, in an agony of despair. They began the search, kicking about in the snow and shouting her name, There was no hope of success. It was impos- sible to remain longer out in the cold. ey were already becoming chilled and exhausted. How could they search on either side of the road for a mile for an object buried out of sight? Only Little Leather-Breeches persisted in it, : af oe rs relieving each other in carrying the Soon the boy became so exhausted that he had to be helped, and finally carried. So they met another party, the young men who had escorted Mrs. Brigns home and then gone forth in quest of her daughter. Hearing the report of those who had alresdy gone over the ee ope they were disheartened. By Joe Weyby’s urging they went a little fur- ther, but soon abandoned the hopeless task. ‘“Tt]l save the hangman a mighty disagree- able task!” remarked Jake Winters, gloomily. ‘¢ Well find her to-morrow, looking better than she would with her neck stretched!” Little Leather-Breeches was carried home, where Mrs. Briggs went almost wild over her accumulated sorrows. When the young men returned to farmer Ashmead’s with their report, Kate contracted her eyes with shrewd suspicion, And who’s ee eee ee eee earn SO You're sure to find us is old Mumbo Jumbo, who has nothing to thank | ————————— coconut LL LLL LLL LL LL LLL LLL LLL LE eee —_—— eS = ee oe — ‘* It’s odd that they should find Mr. Barclay, and not Belle,” she said. ‘*‘ Where could she have gone, if she escaped unhurt? Suppose W2ll Pog got Tuttle’s crowd to help him spirit her off ¢ ‘‘'That’s more like it!” John Boyce assented, The matter was discussed until everybody was half-convinced., On the morrow a new complication arose. Abe Seaver’s body had disappeared! There were halt-filled tracks in the snow under the lee of the granary; but where the wind had a fair sweep they were wholly obliterated. When informed of this, the minister stared blankly, turning alternately red and pale. ‘Can it be that we made a mistake, and he is yet alive?” he exclaimed. ‘‘If he has gone out in the storm in delirium and perished, I shall never hold myself free from blame!” ‘Dear me!” exclaimed Mrs. Ashmead to her husband, when they were alone, ‘did you ever see such a soft heart? I shouldn’t wonder if he worried himself sick, if Abe is found dead in the snow !” ‘* Boys,” was a ruder, yet not less hearty com- ment, ‘‘that parson is no slouch! I thought the wind would saw me in two when we stood over Abe—an’ I ain’t no chicken!—an’ thar that preacher took it like a little man!” CHAPTER VI. A LIVING GRAVE! Wuen Belle Briggs awoke to consciousness, she found herself in total darkness. The air about her was damp and had the chill of the grave in it. ‘Oh! I am blind! I cannot see a ray of light! And how dead and heavy the air is!” She had struggled to a sitting posture. She now passed her hand over the surface of the ground, and found that it was sand. ‘‘ Tt is the shore of a lake or river. But I can- not hear the ripple of water. And this profound darkness !—it cannot be night. There is not the faintest glimmer of light!” She strained her eyes to their widest extent, without avail. ‘*No! no! Iam stone blind! Oh heaven! I shall never see again! Whatcanhave happened to me? ‘That fearful ride! I must have been thrown over a cliff, and the shock has paralyzed the op- tic nerve. ‘*But I must have help! I shall perish out here alone, without shelter or food, and unable to move a step without the fear of being dashed to death! ‘* But if I return to men, it will be to be hang- ed! Why did I not tell some one when I discov- ered that I had lost my revolver at the picnic? Now, no one will believe it!” Still, where there is life there must be effort. She rose and Legan to grope about. Sliding one foot before her as she advanced, as a precaution against pitfalls, her extended hands presently came in contact with the cold, damp, rough surface of a rock. It was sheer as high as she could reach. It must be the wall of a canyon. ; Putting her back against it, she strode direct- ly forward at right angles. ‘‘One! two! three! four! five! six! seven! eight! nine! ten! eleven! twelve! thir—” er foot struck an obstruction; her hands felt a wall like that she had just left. She shuddered at the fatal number thirteen! She proceeded along the wall, keeping one band in contact with it. It was somewhat tor tuous, yet bore, as far as she could judge, in the same general direction. She tried to remember any canyon like this, There was a mountain gulch about a mile from her home, not far from the hut of the old witch, which at this season was for the most part a “dry run.” “But what has become of the snow? If it melted while Ilay unconscious, the water-course should now be a rushing torrent.” While she reflected thus, she experienced that sensation of proximity which we have all felt in the dark when the face or head is brought near an extended surface. It was the echo of her breathing against the rocky walls, ‘ | This attracted her attention more particularly to the sense of hearing, and she became con- scious that her slightest movement was echoed, not in distinct repetitions, but as if the reflectin surfaces were so Close that the original othe blended with the reduplication. Her imagination caught at this, and sor: erated it. She stopped in sudden fright. To er excited fancy it seemed as if the walls that encompassed her were closing in about ber. ’