Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 424 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

‘12 ame ee Neither of them saw Judge Hucklebee stand- ing there until they came full upon him directly under the tree. The old gentleman’s face was white with rage. Here was a sight he had little expected to see. In his blind passion he believed that his daugh- ter had deceived him, and that this was not her first meeting with this good-looking stranger. In no gentle tone he bade the girl go home at once. She tried to explain, but he would hear nothing. He bade her go. So, with a parting glance at Cibuta John, she went on alone. ‘*T was not aware, sir,” the judge exclaimed then, ‘‘that you had made my daughter’s ac- quaintance.” ‘‘Nor had I, an hour ago,” Cibuta replied. “*T have just saved your daughter from a horri- ble death.” ** You have?” sé Yes. ” ‘* How— where?” Cibuta John explained; and when he had done, the judge said: ‘‘T can never repay the debt of gratitude that I owe you, sir. Had my daughter been killed it would have been a death-blow to me. I must forbid, however, your making her acquaintance any further. She is yet but a child, and her heart is not to be trusted. To be frank with you, sir, your good-looking face might play the deuce with her happiness. You are surely ‘world-wise enough to see my meaning in its ‘true light, and I hope you will respect my ‘wishes.’ ‘‘Then you do not consider me worthy of her love, if she were to honor me by bestowing it upon me?” ‘‘You must remember, sir, that you are a stranger to me.” ‘‘ Then I shall at once take steps tosatisfy you as to who and what I am, sir, and that lam an ‘honorable man; for I tell you plainly that I shall use every honorable means to win your daughter. J love her.” Judge Hucklebee was struck dumb. ‘* How can you love her, when you have been ‘but a week and a day in the town?” the judge asked. ‘‘You shall know, sir. My love for her was not borninan hour. A little over a year ago sir, I had the strangest experience of my life. I was riding along the main street of the town of Cibuta one day, when suddenly I fell into a trance. I fell from my horse and was carried into a house, where for a quarter of an hour or more I remained unconscious. While in that state I had, we will say,a dream. I dreamed that I wasin an old cabin. It was almost dark at first, but it soon became light enough for me to see. Outside, a furious thunder storm was raging. As TI looked around the cabin my eyes ey rested upon the face of a beautiful girl, For several moments I gazed at her, and then the vision vanished and I came to, ‘‘That face has been constantly before me ever since; and, sir, it was the face of your daughter—Nettie Hucklebee.” Judge Hucklebee’s face was as pale as death. “Was it fate? Was the old witch’s prophesy to be fulfilled? No! He would not have it so! ‘‘My daughter can never be anything to you,” he cried. ‘* I forbid your ever speaking to her again!” ‘¢T am sorry to have to set aside your authori- ty, sir, but you have heard what my inten- ‘tions are.” ‘‘T say it shall not be!” the judge exclaimed, in loud and angry tones. ‘* It shall never be!” ‘‘T have every reason to hope that it shall be,” said Cibuta John, ‘‘I think she already re- gards me with favor, She it was, sir, as I have since learned, who threw this silver dagger at my feet almost under this very tree on the night of my arrival here.” And as he spoke he took the dagger from his pocket and held it by its point for the judge to see it. ‘* And, sir, the note that was attached to its handle was written by her.” y My God! Again the silver dagger!” And with face more pale than ever the judge re- coiled from it in horror. ‘‘ Why do you not banish the accursed thing?” At that moment other persons appeared upon the scene. They were Gerald Keyne, Bill Twicker and Jem Patterson. Instantly they paused. What could this mean? Why the judge’s pale face and angry, excited manner? Had he and Cibuta John quarreled? It certainly looked so. ‘¢ See!” exclaimed Keyne, ‘‘ the fellow has a dagger in his hand! Was he about to commit a crime?” *¢ Wo, it cannot be!” said Bill Twicker, ‘ Ci- - — 4, - ~ ; . ( lS ee ; : ‘ -% Cibuta John. buta John is not that sort of man. See! his face does not look ez though he wur in a passion!” ‘*Pll bet they’ve had a rumpus 0’ some sort though!” Jem Patterson declared. At sight of the new-comers the judge turned and walked away toward his home by a narrow ath that made a circuit of the hotel, and Cibuta ohn continued on down the road toward the hotel, speaking to the three men as he met and passed them. ** 'There’s a look in his eyes that I don’t like,” Gerald Keyne declared. Both Bill Twicker and Jem Patterson, how- ever, failed to note any unusual expression in them, thcugh they felt satisfied that there had been some angry words between Cibuta John and Judge Hucklebee. CHAPTER XII. A MURDER FOUL. EARLY next morning the town of Ante-Bar was thrown into a fever of excitement such as it had never before experienced. The people stood with blanched faces, and with hearts fairly chilled with horror. A cowardly murder had been committed right in their very midst. The victim was Judge Hucklebee. At an early hour his servant rushed out into tke street with the cry that the judge was dead —that he had-been murdered. Few people were around at the time, but the news spread like wild-fire, and ina short while a great crowd stood before the judge’s house. The servant said she had gone up-stairs to call her master at that early hour, ashe had directed her to do, and that she found him lying in bed cold in death, with a knife of some kind buried in his breast. No one, thus far, had gone in to investigate the matter. The crowd needed a leader. Presently Uncle Daniel Derrick, Bob Burdock, Bill Twicker, Gerald Keyne and one or two others arrived upon the scene, and they entered the house without delay. The servant at once conducted them to the judge’s room, There upon his bed the judge lay, cold in death—as the servant had said, and buried to its hilt in his breast was—the silver dagger. At sight of it the men—except Gerald Keyne —drew backin horror. The latter, pointing to i oa at the same time looking at Bill i wiaker, said: ‘* You remember where we saw that last, do you not?” ‘*' Yas, I reckon I do,” Bill replied. ‘‘ And you remember the circumstances that attended?” ** Yas—yas,” Poor Bill was greatly grieved. He had taken a strong liking to Cibuta John, and it was hard for him to believe him guilty of a crime like this. Billi knew that his own evidence would be most damaging to Cibuta, but he resolved to modify itas much as possible, and to work for the defense. ‘¢ Well,” said Keyne, ‘let us look around here and see what clew we can find. Let nothing be disturbed, however, till we get down to business officially. Ah!” And with the last exclama- tion he sprung forward to the window and pick- ed up something from the floor, “What is it?” asked Bill. ‘‘ Look and see for yourself,” the sharp an- swered, and he laid a peculiarly-shaped piece of silver in his hand as he spoke, Bill recognized it instantly. It was a piece of a Mexican spur—a piece of the very spur worn by Cibuta John. ‘* Your first duty, gentlemen,” Keyne con- tinued, ‘is to arrest Cibuta John, that fancy, Mexican dressed man who last had this dagger in his possession, and of whose silver spurs this seems to be a piece.” Several more men had made their way into the room by this time, and some of them were ready to follow Keyne’s advice. ‘* {t is plainly your duty,” the latter went on, “plainly your duty as law-abiding citizens, If tho man is innocent, hy will have every chance to prove it, and he will be none the worse off. Come! if you want a leader follow me!” ‘‘ Jest hold yer hosses right thar fer a minute, apt till ye hear me talk once!” said Bill wicker. ‘‘It happens that I am next in office to ther unfortunate jedge thar, an’ ef ye please, Pll take this—this heur dilemmer by ther horns an’ have a tussle with it. Am I right, boys?” ‘In course you are,” said Bob Burdock. ‘It strikes me that us citizens o’ Ante-Bar kin at- tend to this case.” And Umcle Dan Derrick added: ** Yes, Bill is right, ez he always are; An’ we ther citizens o’ ther Bar Kin take this case an’ put it through, An’ ax no = i dear sir, from you.” This was decidedly a set-back for Gerald Keyne, but he took it in good part. ‘* That’s all right,” he said. ‘‘ I’m glad to be let off. As no one else seemed to e action though, gentlemen, I felt it my duty to make a move in the matter. No offense, I hope.” ‘*That’s all right, too,” said Bill Twicker. ‘* Don’t think because we wur set back at first an’ didn’t make no move, thet we are a-goin’ ter do nothin’, Not much! Heur is a murder most foul, an’ we means ter know who done it. What you said about arrestin’ Cibuta John was all O, K., but ez I am now sheriff o’ this town, Pll take ther lead myself.” Gerald Keyne stepped back with a good grace, The men looked carefully around the room, but nothing further was discovered, except that the murderer had evidently gained entrance into the room through the window, having climbed to the top of the piazza in order to do SO, “Wal, pards,” Bill Twicker presently said, ‘we must do our duty. We must find and ar. rest Cibuta John. Two of you stay heur, an’ don’t allow a thing ter be touched,” and having named the two men whom he desired to have stay in the room, he went out, followed by the crowd. He went straight to the Dew-drop Inn. ‘* Is Cibuta John up yet?” he asked. Bill had no suspicion that his man had left town. He could not think him guilty. There- fore he was not surprised at the reply: ‘* No, he has not come down yet.’ ‘¢ Then show me to his room.” The proprietor of the hotel obeyed, and in a few moments Bill was knocking at the door of Cibuta John’s room. There came no answer. Bill knocked again. Still no answer came. Then he gave a series of raps that resounded all through the house. ‘** Hullo!” a voice within eried out, and they recognized it at onceas that of Cibuta John, ‘* Hallo! what’s up! Who's there?” ** It is me—Bill Twicker.” **All right. Half a minute, pard,” said Cibuta and he sprung out of bed and hurriedly slipped his clothes on. In a moment he opened the door. He was greatly surprised to see 60 great a crowd, But fa. calmly asked: ‘* Well, friends, what is it?” He noticed that more than one had revolvers in hand. ‘‘Pard,” said Bill Twicker, as sheriff heur, it is my duty to arrest you.” ‘* Arrest me ? What for?” ‘‘On surspicion thet you are th’ murderer o’ Jedge Hucklebee.” Cibuta John’s face turned deathly pale. ‘‘Good God!” he cried? ‘*‘Do you mean it? Has Judge Hucklebee been murdered?” ‘‘Yes, pard, an’ surspicion p’ints direct to you.” ‘* How—why?” _ “Because th’ silver dagger, which was last seen in your possession, is th’ weepin’ that did ther deed; an’ because this heur piece o’ your spur war found on ther floor in th’ room.” Cibuta John cast a quick glance to where his boots lay. True enough, one of the spurs was broken, and this was the missing part. ‘‘T suppose you will give me a fair trial?” he asked. ‘* Jest ez fair a trial, pard, ez possible.” ‘‘' Then I submit to arrest, I am innocent of this crime, and I have no doubt that I can prove it to your satisfaction. Disarm me, gentlemen and then allow me to finish dressing and I will be ready to go with you.” He was quickly disarmed, and then he put on his boots, coat and hat, and was ready. He was conducted at once to the Hucklebee place, and to the bedside of the murdered man, “My God!” he cried, ‘this is a_ horrible crime! Does Miss Hucklebee know of it yet?’ ‘* Yes,” answered the woman servant, “‘an’ she has been out o’ her mind ever since [ told her.” ‘‘Some one go down to Jem Patterson’s at once,” said Cibuta, ‘‘ and tell the school-mistress to come here immediately. Tell her that'I send for her, and that Miss Hucklebee needs—” ‘* No need to send,” said a voice at the door ‘‘for Tam here.” And Clara St. Clare entered the room. ‘*' Whereis Nettie?’ she asked. | ‘‘In her room,” said the servant. ‘‘Come with me,” a I a