Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 469 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

— ‘ — OG a fe) - 9 ee eee — —-- ereasing fluency and confidence, had the rascal- ly Truthful Joe unfolded his tale. At its conclusion, a hoarse yell went up from the St. Elmo faction; Gold Gabe’s friends pre- pared for action, and the ominous clicking of pistol-locks became general. The giant of the golden Jocks stood like a bronze statue, his polished self-cocking revol- vers drawn and ready, his big blue eyes fairly blazing. “* As foul a tissue of lies as was ever hatched, Julian St. Elmo,” he enunciated, in cold, even tones. “ Truthful’ Joe I brand as a liar, a fraud, and a cheat; you, his abettor, a wretch too low, mean and soulless to longer pollute 440d’s footstool!” An expression of horror crept swiftly over the white face of the handsome sport—death stared him in the face! The alcalde’s long arm had swung to a level with lightning-like quickness, and there was an unmistakable gleam in the lurid depths of the eye looking along the polished length of his wea- pon—a gleam that meant death! A flash, a keen report, a curling wreath of thin white smoke, and Julian St. Elmo dropped limp and lifeless, the pi cry he was about to utter dying away witha hollow gurgle deep in —~ bis throat. Before a man in either faction could lift a hand the deadly weapon again exploded, and Truthful Joe, with a hoarse yell, staggere | ‘back and fell to the floor, shot through and through. : At the second shot, as one man, the blonde giant’s friends, headed by faithful, grizzled eems:Rivers, spread quickly in the form of a crescent, the cocked revolvers in the hands of each bearing full on the surging crowd of roughs, “Stiddy thar, you critter!” thundered Rivers, ‘his voice rising high above the uproar. ‘* Crook a finger at King Gabe an’ we'll mow ye!” The tumult subsided, and the turbulent crowd relapsed into quietude. Far braver men than the roughs thirsting for the life of the blonde eiaut would have quailed before that crescent of eadiy muzzles. ‘“ We've played the wrong cards this deal, boys,” muttered Hump Dunkle, a hunchback gambler-desperado, bis long white fingers toying with the hammers of his weapons. *' We’re in the hole, deep; not.only will, weehavre to let. the ‘nlcaldé slip us, but wesball Lave to look sharp that his Law and Order Committee don’t kick us out of Nowhar to boot.” Not without a purpose were*the words ut- ‘tered. They were intended for the ears of Gold Gabe and his followers, and to cover the low, guarded tones of Faro Frank, St. Elmo’s right hand man. ‘Throw down your weapons—own yourselves ‘beaten, and we will declare a truce until Truth- ful Joe’s story has been proved a lie,” cried the alealde, facing the crowd, his eyes aflame, his ‘weapons ready, ** It would be madness to fight, evenif we were 0 disposed,” responded Faro Frank, moving forward, ‘The only thing we can do is—” Quick as thought he fired. A sharp volley rung through the room with a deafening crash, and every ligbt in the Fair Play flickered and went out, shrouding the place in an instant’s time in the deepest gloom, Gold Gabe dropped to the floor, escaping the ‘murderous storm of bullets that followed. ‘Treachery, boyees! Let ther p’ison varments thev it!” shouted Jeems Rivers, rapidly working this weapons, In answer a series of brilliant flashes ran along the human crescent, the cracking of the revolyers sounding in a heavy, continuous crash. Following out the hastily formed plans of Faro Frank, the St. Elmo faction, under cover of the intense darkness, had dropped lightly to the floor. UWnharmed by the volley, the d radoes rept rapidly toward the spot at which the al- rcalde had last been seen. ‘The big cuss is as full of holes as the aver ‘age pocket in this hyar camp, 1n all probability,” muttered Hump Dunkle, as with Faro Frank he led the advance, his voice rendered almost -in- audible by the continuous cracking of the re- ‘volvers in the hands of the blonde giant’s ‘friends. ‘I had a bead on him, and as soon as ‘the lights went out I let slip two bullets. Then, ‘too, the rest of the boys tried their hands, and it is not at all likely he escaped.” TI don’t think he dodged us, though I heard ‘no fall,” as cautiously observed Faro Frank, in return, ‘Unless he bears a charmed life some of the bullets sent point-blank at his head must dave reached a vital spot. e / The Rival Giants of Nowhar. —_ Or Or rr -_- ese; - _L- — — — OI ”_”“<—””_—_ 00 See ee ae OO OOO eS ees ee eS e-ClC OC >™ — -_'0 OED SELES ee re eeeoo'-=ekN Casas " 0 EEE —__- ee (Zs Aha my A bright flash, a stunning report, and Hump Dunkle caught a fleeting xlimpse of the white, stern-set face of Gold Galo crouching, revolv- ers in hand, as Faro Frank, with that sharp exclamation, rolled over with a ball through his shoulder. ‘** Shoot low, boys! they’re creeping in on you under your fire!” shouted the alcalde, backing away, his weapons exploding with each pace he retreated. . A hoarse yell from the baffled roughs; a wild rush toward the blonde giant, in which friends and foes became inextricably entangled; a mo- ment of blindly desperate struggling—then a series of sharp, exulting cries, and the ‘‘ hard crowd” of Nowhar surged toward the door, with the alcalde a captive. Close at the heels of the victorious party ushed grizzled Jeems Rivers and , his men, out in the sultry August night. Once in the open air they halted to form some plan for the rescue of the blonde giant. The entire camp had been aroused by the fierce affray; half-nude but thoroughly armed miners came hurrying to the Fair Play from every direction. Straight to a lightning-blasted tree a hundred yards from St. Elmo’s place burried the roughs, headed by the hunchback desperado, Hump Dunkle. Despite their haste the alcalde’s cap- tors worked methodically and in grim silence, A. dozen torches were soon aflame, casting a weird light over the strange scene. The noosed end of a rope was quickly drawn tight around Gold Gabe’s neck, and the other end hurled over a straight limb to be grasped by a dozen eager hands. **Up with him!” yelled the hunchback, tlap- ping his hands together in fiendish glee. ‘* Quick! up with him before the galoots from the Yellow Boy get here. Judge Lynch is too good for the dirty cuss!” Speechless, gasping for breath from the terri- ble, cutting pressure of the rope on his throttle, his hands bound tightly at his back, Gold Gabe glared defiantly at his implacable foes, his glow- ing eye$ in a measure revealing the deadly hatred he could not otherwise express, Amid low, inhuman jeersand yells, the roughs tightened their clutch on the rope, and drew their helpless victim up unti] only his toes touched the dry, parched earth; then, with devilish brutality, they loosed their hold, allow- ing the half-choked alcalde to fall headlong. ‘Up, boys, up!” shrieked the deformed fiend, his eyes glowing iike living coals. ‘‘ To-night this tree must bear such fruit as it never bore before!” In response, as their helpless victim staggered blindly to his feet, the grimy hands again tight- ened on the rope; one move of the brawny arms, one pace backward, and Gold Gabe would no longer be King of Nowhar. In that single instant intervening between the blonde giant and a terrible death, a strange sound rung high above the clamoring voices of the lynchers—a sound never before heard in thy isolated gold-camp. A woman’s scream, loud, clear and piercing! With one accord, the roughs started forward, the rope slipping unheeded through their hands, while ey stared at a fresh scene of commotion astounded, Through the lawless throng, pusbing, kicking, striking, his long arms end legs working like flails, a short, heavy revolver of the ‘ bulldog” pattern clutched in each hand, came Jonathan Trotter, closely followed by a fair young girl! Perfect in contour of formand feature, attired in the ine black, her lustrous dark eyes di- lating with horror, her face gleaming white and deathlike, she appeared more like a visitant from another world than aught human under the garish light of the flambeaux. A snarl, not unlike that of some maddened beast of prey, escaped the thin, bloodless, froth- flecked lips of the hunchback desperado, ‘‘Up!” he screamed, drawing a glittering re- volver. ‘‘ Up with him, you devils! Are we to be cheated of our revenge by the sight of a woman’s face? Up, I say! or upon my oath I'll send your coward souls to meet the master you all owe allegiance, the Old Boy of Briynstone!” His voice rising high and shrill, his misshapen firure quivering With » assion, his feet beating an irregular tattoo on the hard, dry earth, his face cold and livid, his hollow, restless eyes Sparkling venomously; the wretch, bearing throughout a strong resemblance to a pictured fiend of the infernal regions, with a hand that never trembled, a nerve that never faltered, covered the hesitating lynchers with bis deadly Wweay on. -—-- ---eo OCU ae OT oe eel rm - A ee EO eee That he would carry his threat into effect the roughs never doubted; one slow, steady pull, and Gold Gabe swung clear of the Tamas At that instant, just as a second anguished scream broke from the tottering woman, the Yankee’s revolver went up, and its heavy report rung out. Whirling half-around, the giant of the golden locks hung quivering a moment; then, with a sharp, Shapping sound, the strands of the rope parted, and he fell heavily to the ground, to all in, gr lifeless. ne swift bound, and Jonathan Trotter con- fronted the enraged hunchback desperado, with a deft blow knocking the revolver from his hand. ‘* Yeou, p’izen sarpent!” he hissed, shoving the smoking muzzle of his ‘‘ bulldog” under the gambler’s nose. ‘*Crook a finger, yeou or yeours—open yeour pertater-trap. an’ by smoke! yeow’ll choke to death on cold lead! Yeou!” The Yankee’s vorge were distinctly audible, and the roughs turned sullenly from their leader to stare curiously at Trotter’s protegee. Halting beside the giant form of Gold Gabe, and pressing her hands to her throbbing tem- ples, the girl gazed at his empurpled face a mo- ment, then in a sudden, tempestuous outburst a grief, flung herself on his broad chest, sob- ing: ‘*Oh, Ronald! Ronald, my brother! They have killed you!” CHAPTER IV. THE PLOTTERS. THREE hours later, In a small but rather comfortably furnished apartment in the rear of the Fair Play, at a rough deal table abundantly supplied with bot- tles and glasses, were four men—Julian St. Elmo, Faro Frank, the hunchback and the dark Hercules. That both Shasta Sam and St. Elmo had narrowly escaped death was attested by the bloody, tightly drawn bandages about their heads. The rightarm of Faro Frank bung in asling. Of the four, Hump Dunkle lone had passed through the fierce médée uiiscathed. The faces of all were dark and lowering, for each had tasted of the bitterness of defeat, ‘* So, after all, King Gabe is alive and littlé the worse for wear,” uttered St, Elmo, wrath- fully. “I tell you, gents, this blue-eyed giant is a hard customer for us to buck against. Half a year ago he struck the camp, a perfect stran- ger; to-day, two-thirds of the one hundred and fifty men of Nowhar swear by him. He owns the only paying mine yet discovered here, and seems as rich as Croesus besides. Before he was here a month he was recognized as ‘ chief’ to such an extent that he was called upon to set- tle all disputes, and was generally known as the ‘alcalde’—a title, by the way, that was be- stowed upon him by his mine superintendent, Jeems Rivers, who is full of the queer ways of old Santa Fe. May the Old Boy fly away with them both, say I; for neither isa slouch at sling- ing lead, and both display a natural aptitude for slipping out of unpleasantly tight places with unruffled feathers,” ‘There was no way to prevent his escape; when it came to the scratch it was, throw up our hands or go under,” declared the hunch- back desperado. ‘‘ The game was well played from the moment our new pard here, Shasta Sam, was gotten out of the wird so neatly, un- til you and Truthful Joe went down under the alcalde’s fire. After that Frank, here, and my- self attempted to carry out the instructions you had given us at the opening of the ball. Wo yassed the word to the boys to shoot out the ights and let Gold Gabe have a volley. That vart of the scheme seemed to wash all right, ‘he boys dropped to the floor in time to avoid the return fire, and we crept forward to see if we had settled the alcalde. He must have adopted our tactics and dropped, for we found him ready for us, as Frank’s arm shows. In the struggle that followed, the boys kept to- gether by using our code of signals. We suc- ceeded in overpowering the alcalde, and drag- ged him outside for Judge Lynch, knowing that the superintendent and his men, weakened by the fight, would hardly dare attempt a rescue until reinforced by others from the Yellow Boys. cd) ‘Right there the strange part of the affair comes in. The alcalde was dangling at the end of a rope when that meddling Yank, with a young and. beautiful woman, appeared and with the skill of a dead-shot cut the rope with a bullet.” ‘This woman,” eagerly interpolated St. Elmo; JNA. Se. . eas SRT at —