Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 42 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

4 power ina mule’s fut. We'll ask Mr. Hog-gobblin w’at he wants, an’ef he remains mum, we'll try cold iead as a restorative fer lost s h.’ Nearer came the white-robed e, apeteney floati along on the current of air t drew through the tunnel. And the nearer it came, the suv.2 Uneasy grew Prudence. At last it came toa pause, not ten yards away, and now the Annihilator made the discovery that beneath those cloud-like white robes was the shape of a human 8 { And to his further horror he could hear the harsh rattle of the bones, and a faint wheezy unnatural os a sounding far more ghostly than human. Still was the arm of the ter upraised, and the strange fore-finger, the end of which glowed like a human eye, pointed s ht at Old Avalanche, who for the space of a minute was unable to command his powcr of speech. But at last he threw off the spell, ye a determined effort, and brought his re- volver to bear upon the phantom. ‘*Hello, thar—wie ghats, as ther Dutchman said. What do you want?’’ he cried. There was no answer, except a horrible rattling of the bones, and adeclination of the fore-finger of several d until it aimed at the A tor’s belt, to which three leathern pouches of gold were attached. “Oh! ye want ther a’riferous do ye? Ye want thes devastatin’ di ter give ye a few flakes o’ fortune, do ye? Waal, here they aire then;” and raising weapon on a level with the specter’s heart, or where such an organ ought to be, he fired—once! twice! thrice! the roar of each report echo weirdly through the tunnel. But the only result was another rattling of the bones, and that same faint, ghostly laugh—unlike anything the old scout had ever heard. His hair now fairly rose up on end! What was the meaning of this? he indeed tackled something er en ee ?—a phantom, not of the living but of the dead? An awful horror, such as he had never before experienced, stole over him, and he gazed at the ghostly vision in a sort of fascina- tion, irresistible and intoxica . The more so, when his gaze was riveted upon a pair of little black eyes, which gleamed from an pera in the phan- tom dress—a pair of eyes so magnetic that he felt their overpowering influence—felt that he was pow- erless to move a limb or muscle; it was a strange, awful s i, in which, though living, he seemed as one of the dead. He was conscious of all—conscious that the terri- ble oe came closer—conscious that his waist was lightened of its load, even though he could feel no touch betraying the agency of human hands—con- scious that the phantom swept past him and vanish- ed, and that he was left alone there in Stygian dark- ness, powerless to move or speak. CHAPTER IV. THE GRAYLFORDS.—LIEUTENANT CAMBRE, Ovursipe of the mouth of Eureka gulch, about a mile beyond where the mining element had pitched its town, was a palatial coun residence, such as abe could be found in no other part of the wild silver land of Idaho. The property embraced sev- eral thousand acres of the immediate billowy prairie, which was well watered and used for grazing pur- poses, and the buildings and s ous unds, which were known as “‘ The Oaks,” probably on ac- count of a complete hedge-work of these trees which the hand of man had planted around the mansion. The lawn, ER either way from the dwelling, was well laid, and dotted here and there with flower- shrubs and beds of blossoming plants, and mark- by serpentine walks and carriage drives, Here were shaded bowers, there swings, croquet grounds and the like, and everywhere evidence of wealth, and an eye for beauty, which had not found training in the wild West. The mansion was built of stone, which had been quarried from the neighboring mountains, and was imposing in popearesee externally, while the inte- rior was richly furnished, with a critical taste dis- gj in the arrangement of ever , ere resided the Graylfords, one of the richest and most aristocratic, as well as influential families in the territory. They counted their money by the tens of thousands, and the senior Graylford owned some of the largest silver lodes in Idaho. He was an inveterate miser, and had few friends among the or, toward whom he was harsh and haugh®y. He oarded his money closely, and not trus to the honesty of banks, kept it in a large safe in man- sion Repeatedly had attempts been made by outlaws to Liestarize the Oaks, but Fordyce Graylford kept a be ate over his strong room, and a halldoeen faith- ul male servitors; consequently each attempt had been unsuccessful on the part of the burglars. Of the fa there were four, consisting of For- ae Graylford and his wife; a grown-up son named uy and a daughter of eighteen, named Claudine. f his children old Fordyce Graylford had no cause to be proud. Guy was a reckless, worthless reprobate—a gam- bler, a spendthrift, and, it had been hinted, an out- law. Of this, however, there had never been any proof, further than that he had been seen in conver- sation with several notorious characters. Claudine was haughty, uncivil and bad in temper; treacherous and deceitful, and though rather hand- some, as the word goes, she had few admirers. ‘Worst of all, she was a thief. On more than one oc- casion she had depleted the purse of her old father of a thousand or so, gene in co-operation with her brother. The elder Graylford was a man of some five-and- fifty years at the time of our story. He derived an immense income both from his mining investments and extensive cattle herds, but this not satisfying his greed for riches, he ventured into speculation in and about Eureka, almost always successful, in spite of the fact that sharpers ee: laid traps for him. On the day akc 3 the night of the Annihilator’s encounter with the Phantom Miner, Captain Grayl- ford, as he was called, brought home a new visitor to the Oaks—a distinguished army officer, he ex- ey to his household, who must be treated with he greatest respect and consideration. The individual in question was a tall, well-formed fellow of twenty-five, with a dark Spanish face, that ssessed a few handsome points, dark eyes and ir, and a mustache and imperial to match. In dress he was faultless and elegant. Lieutenant Cambre, he was called, and claimed to be of the United States Army, which of course was a lie, as the reader will readily recognize him as Cam- bre of Deadwood Dick’s once notorious band. What Cambre’s business was at the Oaks was quite apparent by listening to the conversation between m and Graylford, as they were closeted in the speculator’s o ce, an hour or so after dinner. ‘You perceive,’’ Cambre was saying, ‘‘that the scheme is simply immense. It cannot fail, and the investment of a few hundred thousand will pay twen- Seth or thirty per cent. the first year, and after that increase with age. Why, my dear sir, six years ago I sunk five out of six hundred thousand dollars in a gigantic railroad project, but that was because of inexperience. Since then 1 have doubly retrieved myself, and by this last move I propose to raise my- self to independence for life. It is a sure thing, and one’s capital invested, is bound to pay a handsome revenue.” Old Captain Graylford gazed at the coolly-scheming villain opposite him, with a stran leam in his lit- tle gray eyes. He wasa n student of human na- ture; experience had taught him the secret of pick- ing out a villain almost at sight. See here,” he said, bringing his hand heavily down upon his knee, ‘‘do you know that J know you to be an unmitigated rascal and a liar? You are smart and crafty above the average, but not suf- ficiently so to fool an old miser like me, who has had dealing with men of just your wd A through- out a prosperous and eventful life. ere is no such meorer’ in contemplation as the one you nafffe, and, even if I were to invest capital in such a *Y should do it myself, not trusting even my own son or daughter, both of whom are a dis- to the name of Graylford.”’ Cambre uttered a flerce curse. To be _ baffled from the beginning was maddening, but he was not to be cheated of his prey, even at this rebuff. ** And you dare to insinuate—”’ he “T dare to insinuate nothing, sir, face I dare tell you openly that you and a liar. To be sure, youat first rather gulled me but after you began to preach on tha railroad scheme—that was enough. You are no longer a welcome visitor in my house, sir.”’ **Oh! well, then we'll call me an unwelcome one for the present. I have you completely in my wer, Fordyce Graylford, and I mean to make he most of my situation.” ‘*Completely in you power?’ repeated the u- lator, in un amazement. ‘I should like to know how?” “You would? Well, it will require but a few moments to give you an idea of what I am driv- ing at. You are not one of the dull kind, and will easily comprehend, I believe. I did not pro to enter upon this matter yet, but may as well, to let ou know on how little a thread a life may hang. n the first place, I enter a charge against you which the law, except in Utah, pronounces a mis- demeanor, Fordyce Graylford, ty are a bigamist. You have married and become the father of children by this second wife, while you have a first wife living !” Ha! has a thunderbolt fallen? The mine-owner leaps to his feet, with a ghastly white face, his form trembling as in an ague-fit—his eyes blazing luridly. “You say this?” he cried, his breath coming and tow Rag quick gasps. ‘Then you lie!—lie like the e *““Oh! no, I do not lie,”” Cambre replied, non- but to your re a scoundrel chalantly. ‘‘I’m dlways sure of my nt before I show re hand, as the saying goes. I can pro- duce that first wife inside of twenty-four hours, and her heir to all your wealth, in as spre more. Aha! I have got it all worked out fine, old man, and you are in my power!’ “Yes, in your power,’”’ muttered the old mine- owner, dropping back into his chair; “ heavily in our pity de But still I defy you. Youcan do noth- Ing. tis twenty years since all that; time has out- lawed the case. e refused to live with me then or to let me have the child. Therefore I am legally i vossete and the result of that first union is no eir,”” **Ah! we'll see about that,’’ Cambre said, rising, with a dark frown. ‘“ Perhaps you are right; then again, perhaps you are wrong. I will seek 1 counsel, and report at the first opportunity.” He left the mansion, and ordering his horse, a fine, spirited bay, he mounted, and galloped back toward ureka. But, while galloping along, busying his brain over his little scheme poe suddenty rome before him, out of a hollow in the billowy prairie,a figure on horse- ewig Bi eee Ro pati the ht of weer caused m eap up stirrups, with an oath: Could this be?—was he sanlly in the presence of the one he most dreaded, yet was most anxious to meet, the dauntless, daring road-prince, Deadwood Dick? It only one glance to satisfy him that it was indeed the notorious young outlaw, who dissolv- ed his band and fled hither, where veins of silver run zig-zag through the earth. di- my Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. Deadwood Dick as of yore,in his emblematical suit of jetty black, black hat, gloves, mask, saddle- trappings, and horse! the noses of their horses touched. ‘** Halt!’? came in the clear, law; ‘“‘ you are mine, Carlos more than you?” The unfaithful lieutenant lips, and shifted uneasily in le s saddle. A revolver was in the road-agent’s hand, else Cambre would have s away. But he knew Dick’s marksmanship too well to run any risks, and therefore rode straight on until ure tones of the out- ambre. Right here in my hand I hold a traitor’s death—who deserves it w white about the Then a gen- flush stole over his counteriance, like a flame of fire upon a prairie horizon—flashed and then died out Rm a smoky-white appearance, am in your power, true enough, captain,” he replied, in a low tone. ‘ You giving. You have it will cancel the debt; I am not you are not afraid to die,” replied Deadwood Dick, with a low mocking laugh, “‘or else I should ou, which I am not quite ready to do, yet, rT No, kill never, never for- give me because I had you imprisoned by your wife’s orders, I sap pose, Perhaps I did wrong, and I would crave your forgiveness, only I know you are unfor- our revolver ready—shoot me, d to die.”’ would first use you for other purposes,”’ “I'd advise you not to trust me too far. sometimes bite snakes.”’ “Oh! yes, I am aware of that—es two venomous reptiles of your t co have your choice—death, or the execu wishes, whichever you will.” ** What dirty job do you want done?” “No dirty (ob, wre fingers ina reckless laugh He was su wood Dick. as he turning the loss of a woman’s love? *“*Name your work. Dishonor and death have equal terrors—I know not which I shall choose!’ he replied At which there was a contemptuous “ humph!”’ from Deadwood Dick. “You are oem ing pious of late, I see,”” he went on, n * Wouldn man’s breathing- pipe, sooner than you'd look at him, truth deepest sarcasm his tones. I dare say.’ ‘**Ilcan proudly say that I have never been Nor can any one of willful murder, yet, sir. er. accuse me of such a crime.”’ *I do not pene to. cute is this: I have learned may be di t Leone, erate and my wife, is here in Eureka. ssession of the knowledge by merest accident, but d not learn her whereabouts, for a certainty. She ised or not, just as the case ha ! I want you to color ittle human blood, that is all!’ with a Cambre sinddersal in spite of himself. rised to find such a change in Dead- rufian, I “Oh! so you wish to make me your tool, eh?” Cambre sneered, his eyes emitting tigerish By oe es when “E ide. But you tion of my our just because of Anyhow, she has a babe in her arms—the and she shall not have it! brin do not wish me to murder it ?” “Oh! no. I wish you to murder a certain indivi- dual named Deadwood Dick, the Road-agent Prince!” “What! want me to murder you? Are you crazy, man?’’ ‘*“Ha! ha! No but Deadwood Dick No. 1. No. 2!”’ ‘**You are lying!” he said say is true, who is No. 2 Deadwood Dick?” ‘That I cannot tell. Nor can I tell your object in ey killed. It need not matter to will get the babe, at earliest oppor- “Very well; see that you do, e each 8 , remember the old sign of the Double cn ae Then wood Dick wheeled his horse and gal- loped back toward the mountains, that would lead him a good dozen miles wanting such me, however. tunity.”’ watch you even as you try to play me false mouth of Eureka gulch Whil e Cambre rode slowly on toward the minin town, watching the easy graceful the road- Deadwood Dick. ** He said he was No. 2, but lied. There are few per- ~ es child c of our union. It does not rightfully belong to he ou must steal it an ittome. Do you understand?”’ “Perfectly! But you spoke of blood. You surely I do not want you to murder me, I am Deadwood Dick decidedly. the real Deadwood Dick, and I know it,” “Oh! you do, eh? Well, in case that what you * You are a course yond the equestrianism 0 ent, and wondering in his mind if it were shall d if you ‘t cut .a The case I wish you to exe- our confed- came into sons who ride like him. But who is this other party? There must be two Deadwood Dicks in the field. I want the original, but must contrive to meet him business gets ri when this heirshi him before he drops me. Two this Eureka, exceedingly lively.”’ And be here Cambre hit upon the truth. Things to be peculiarly interesting for the Eureka- who had never known molestation from those bold fearless knights of the field called road-agents; Eureka knew that wood Dick was haunting the town—were told so by many a notice posted conspicuously about on — for before night of that day all Dead trees and rocks:— , and I can drop dwood Dicks} Phew! that promises to make such a little town as * Ag ye do by me, 80 will I do unto you! ““Deapwoop Dick.” People about town read these notices; curious miners paused on their way from work and the threatening posters; specula ers read them and indulged in dom equaled, and a general and indignation was rife in all e€oim (E 0)(0)(6) tors and mine-own- fadithg C excitement of ex men circles. cS (EO)