Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 47 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

=. — tunity of delivering long-lost Violet Collyer to her mother’s arms, and reaping a goodly sum of money for the act. If he was free, he would not give up hope. The trails that led tothe city on the lake were long and toilsome. He could follow the quartette before him, and at last, tri- umphing over every obstacle, carry Violet to Chicago, and pocket the money a yearning mother would give for her child, Freedom and gold! The thought went like an arrow through Cap- tain Rough’s avaricious heart. _All at once he threw his body forward on the horse’s neck, and yelled madly to the beast. The cry was enough to startle any animal, and, with a snort of mingled fright and pain, for the captain plunged the spurs into his flanks, he dashed away. A cry of astonishment burst from the lips of the spectators. ‘‘ Stay thar!” yelled Shadow-Shot, as he whirl- ed his own steed, and darted after the ruffian. Captain Rough, bound hand and foot as he was, could not guide his horse. But he continued to apply the spurs, caring little whither he was for the present borne. _ Shadow-Shot at last began to gain on the fly- ing man. His unnatural position in the saddle told on his horse. The animal kept in the moonlight, eschewing the darkened forest, and keeping up his speed as well as he could. Suddenly the handsome horse stopped, and started back with a wild snort of surprise. The ranger drew rein and listened. He heard the neighing of a horse which came from the forest not far from Captain Rough, and that ruffian’s steed replied. The captain straightened in the saddle and turned his face toward the wood to see— A sudden flashing of rifles, and to fall for- ward upon his horse’s mane! ‘“‘Jehosaphat!” exclaimed Shadow-Shot, half blinded by the sudden flash. ‘‘I reckon the Vultures have paid off an oldscore: they ’ll pay another, perhaps, if I don’t get back.” Brave as he was he stood not upon the order of his going; but whirled and rode back toward the others, anxiously awaiting his return. He did not see the score of forms that gather- ed around Captain Rough, and cut him from the saddle. Not a word of pity fell from their lips; on the contrary, he was hurled to the ground with real forest brutality. He lay there like one dead until two men took a human body from a horse and placed it at his side. ‘‘ They look alike!” said several voices. ‘ Jest as if they might be brothers.” Did the words cause Captain Rough to start? With a groan he opened his eyes and saw the dead body beside him. Starting at the sicht, he raised his own body on his elbow and looked down into the handsome but pallid face. ** Dead!” he cried. ‘‘ We swore once that we would never recognize each other again; but ou are dead, and I’m goin’ to break my oath fore I die. My brother! may God pity—” He said no more, for death, the relentless monster, put forth his hand, and Ruffian Rough fell forward upon the cold face of his brother, Captain Dave! he Vultures, red and white, exchanged looks of surprise; but did not speak. : In the middle of the night, with the starry girdle of heaven above them, lay the forest cap- tains—their days and nights of crime passed forever, and justice cheated at last. But it was the tardy justice of the courts. That forest retribution, dark and stern, had overtaken them in their guilt. OnE beautiful afternoon, several days after the scenes just recorded, the voice of some one singing in the wilderness of Wisconsin filled the air with melody. The singer was a handsome boy, who rode a horse with gallant grace, and whose wealth of lossy hair was the only covering of which his foad could boast. At his side rode a beautiful young girl of his own age with her large lustrous eyes with love and admiration upon him, while he sung with all the ardor and zest of youth, Just ahead of the happy twain, a of horses bore two men who looked like backwoods — “The leetle one kin sing to his heart’s con- tent!” said one of the men, glancing over his broad shoulder, ‘‘I wouldn’t stop him for the world. Sing on, my leetle chap, fur you hev sung yourself into a fortune, an’ a pretty wife. Jack, we'll stir the animiles when we git to Chicago!” Nightingale Nat. —-- Long and loud did Nightingale Nat sing the song of End, for the dangers which had environed him in the forest were over, and the city of his destination was not far away. he arrival of the little party at Chicago did create a commotion in well-known circles. A mother pressed to her heart a daughter whom a husband had dragged from her, into the forests of the North-west, and one Geofftry Nixon aman of wealth, saw his ill-gotten estates fall into the hands of the resurrected heir! Here let us end our story. The Vultures, after the death of the forest Apollo, ceased to act as a band, and the roads that led through the wilderness became high- »ways of travel. ightingale Nat, as we will call our young hero to the eng, took possession of his fortune and entering Dusiness life in earnest, adde much to it. In time he led Violet to the altary and thus in the great city of the West was happily consummated the love born in the hours | of forest peril! As for Shadow-Shot and Jack Gustin, whirl of city life swallowed them up to the world, but our young lovers never lest sight of the courageous twain. * Their forest deeds did not pass unrewarded; but the memory of the two captains—the strange brothers—died long ago! y THE END. 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