Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 47 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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4 of his new-found friend, and when they died away and were heard no more, he felt the peril of his situation. What if the ranger should lose his life amon the outlaws? Then, indeed, would he be friend- less in the forest, and certain to fall into the un- feeling hands of Captain Rough. The thought made him shudder. thrill of terror to his heart. ‘*Shadow-Shot could make the Tow gags tell wa he brought me into these woods, If he falls to-night what shall I do?’ A moment’s pause, and the hidden boy said rf What will I do? Why, Pll make him tell myself! That’s what “pa o!” irty minutes on en wings passed over the head of Nightingale Nat. The silence that followed Shadow-Shot’s de- parture seemed to be the calm before the storm. When there came to the tree the sound of a footstep in the forest, Nat started joyfully, and ejaculated the cognomen of his protector. The person approached the tree. He came from the direction of the wagons, from the vi- cinity of which no shouts of conflict now came. It was certainly Shadow-Shot. To the boy waiting so anxiously for his return, it could be no one else. With senses on the qui vive and eager to learn the result of the ranger’s scout, Nightingale Nat stood erect and ye anxio into the forest. Pit-a-pat went the feet of the unseen, until the youthful eyes caught sight of a figure mov- ing among the trees. ‘Here I am!” At the sound of the boy’s voice the person gg and an ejaculation of success saluted Nat’s ears. It was so full of devilishness, so dif- ferent from Shadow-Shot’s voice, that he shrunk from the aperture white as ashes. He had betrayed his presence to a foe! As he hugged the wall of the tree furthest from the open ng, the boy fondly hoped that he had not revealed his exact whereabouts to the man in the forest; but, alas! he builded poorly. Straight to the tree, as if guided by the boy’s own hand, came the treacherous erg Nightingale Nat held his breath, and kept his eyes fixed upon a star which glittered far be- yond the boughs of the tree. All at once a heavy pall seemed to blot the st from his sight. @ man without was at he opens. ‘Oh, Pve found you?’ he said, throwing a voice full of the fiendishness of outlawry into the tree. . Nightingale Nat did not reply; but his heart seemed to cease ey in his breast. The man without was Zimri Paddock, one of Captain Rough’s men, and a person who hated the boy of the train. It will be recollected that this man delivered ge Rough’s orders which put an end to Nat’s song, just before the charge of the forest demons. ‘Oh, it’s no use to keep your mouth shut!” hoarsely exclaimed the man. ‘‘ You thought I was that tall old codger what step atween our back an’ the cap’n’s whip awhile ago. Not ya long shot, =a young cat-bird. e old hound’s gone back to nose around the train, eh? Well, he find an ceney te? when he gets hbyar. Come, my youn i = What! fall in e hands of such a man as Zimri Paddock, whose every instinct was of the most brutish kind—a man who would not hesi- tate to take human life for gain or revenge? “You us into a pretty mess didn’t you?’ said Paddock, coarsely; ‘‘ we was gettin’ along peacefully. Confiscate your bird t! Tm goin’ 00 slit it, and let all the music out for- ever! | That awful threat, accompanied by the - ish glare of the two eyes that be ely made Nightingale Nat resolve not to fall into the villain’s hands, He could not raise his rifle to his shoulder; the hollow in which he was ensconced would not admit of this; but he could thrust the muzzle toward the scala and fire. This he did A loud cry followed the report, and when the smoke cleared away Nat saw the far-off star again. Zimri Paddock was gone! and the hoped that the bullet had c ed through his brain! But this nigger was of short duration. A wild ery, je ed to a savage oath, startled the boy, and the hole became dark again. The next moment he felt himself grasped rudely by the shoulder, from which the hand almost instantly shot to his throat. ‘* Not dead yet, my Nightingale!” hissed Pad- It sent ay Sse Beadle’s Half-Dime —— ————— NS ——— dock. ‘‘I’m bleedin’ like a stuck deer, but I’ll finish you afore I go.” The white-fac boy resisted with all his strength; but the hand of a maddened giant was at his throat, and he was dragged from the tree. “Thought you hed killed Zim’ Paddock, eh?” laughed the brute. ‘‘ Oh, my leetle one, as that old chap called you, Pll let the music out o’ your heart! ll cut your plumage, my nightingale!” The boy had ceased to offer resistance, for the vise-like gripe of the scoundrel’s hand was fast depriving him of sensibility. CHAPTER IV. UNDECEIVED. WE have seen with what regret Captain Dave rmitted Rafe Armstrong to desert the outlaw d, while on its march to attack the train, lumbering slowly through the woods. On any other occasion he would have added another crime to the list already long, for he would have rid himself of the querulous man with the pistol or the knife. But at the place where desertion took place, neither of those agents of death would do: the former would make a loud report, and a death- i a follow a blow from the latter. erefore, he did the next best thing that sug- gested itself; he set Sharp Knife, the wily Crow, upon Armstrong’s trail, and felt relieved. He had confidence in the scarlet vulture. Rafe Armstrong talked too much. He was continually harping about the ‘‘ attack on Coll- er’s train,” a d of forest barbarity which k place in the Wisconsin woods five years rior to the date of our present story. The out- aw was superstitious, but brave to a fault; he had never shrunk from danger; but the only failing that characterized him—his talkative- ness—irritated the Apollo of the wilderness, and at last, as we have seen, brought about an open rupture. ell mounted, and armed with rifle, pistol and knife, the dismissed man left the band to con- tinue its march through the somber woods. He resolutely turned his back upon it and rode away. He did not look back with longing vir and think of the spoil which would fall to his com- rades by the capture of the train. He did not see the dark-skinned assassin who, having slid from a horse and hidden a bridle for future use, was following him with eyes that glittered with the wickedness of the basilisk’s If he had dreamed that Sharp Knife was on his track, would he not have turned and put an end to one Indian’s trailing? _ But Armstrong did not see the murderer. ‘* Bless me if I don’t go an’ tell her what I know!” he muttered to himself, as he rode along. ‘*She’s got no business in these an’ if ttin’ her back to the city, why [ll run the I wonder how city life would go ag’in, with plenty of money in my pocket, an’ good drinks?” thar’s any money in The fo th which the bandit traversed at length brought him to what appeared to be the edge of a cliff, below which sounded the musical hum of flowing water. ‘* She oughter be at the ing his toahalt. “ down an’ see.” Turning to the north he rode slowly along the edge of the precipice for some ce un- til he stood almost on a level with the stream. As yet Sharp Knife had not reached his vic- tim, who had put six miles between him and the outlaw band. Advancing at a snail’s ene up the river bank, strewn inmany places with broken rocks, which seriously impeded his progress, Rafe Armstrong pushed along. At he abandoned his horse and proceeded on foot, with that scarlet trailer still on his track. All at once the bandit stopped, for he stood on the threshold of a little cave wonderfully chisel- ed from the rock by the hand of nature. There were evidences of late occupancy; but now it was tenantless. ealg trong stared at the place and then looked around. ‘“Gone!” he ejaculated in atone of deep dis- camp!’ he said, bring- ito harek Gomes if 1 go apices I’ve had all this trip fur nothin’. ut she’s been PEs, Cap’n Dave needn’t tell me thet a id not escape from Collyer’s train. What I see with my own eyes I know, an’ thet was one of the things what I see’d. Business is business! I came hyar to see the gal an’ by hokey! os not goin’ away till I’ve se eyes on the creetur’. the deserter examine th ited fee 9 words i li e cave an e for articles of use which were arranged with Library that neatness which proclaimed the work of female taste. Just beyond the threshold and in the darker shadows, for the starlight, beautiful and bright, now seemed to concentrate Poon po eat a pair of sparkling eyes were watching his every movement, and a hand held the long flashing blade of a knife. Sharp Knife, the trailer. With that snake-like caution of the red-man, the Pottawatomie lay on his breast, and now and then crept forward without the least sign of noise. Slowly, but with that certainty so suggestive of doom, he approached his victim. ‘A right-down pretty place to live,” Rafe Armstrong said, sentir g the interior of the secluded home. ‘“ Here is whar the cap’n comes somuch. Now I’d like to see thegal. It’s been five years since we cleaned Collyer out, and she warn’t more nor ten year old then.” Hard upon the outlaw’s last sentence came an exclamation that caused him to start. “Thet war somebody!” he cried, turning quickly. “I heard a voice, an’—the gal, by !’ . He ster bel forward with the ejaculation on his lips, for standing at the edge of the cave ap- peared a vision of female loveliness, which “ well have surprised the man. girl of near sixteen, clad in a half boyish hunting suit, with a jaunty cap of skins set up- on her head, and a mass of long hair on her shoulders. The outlaw took in her habiliments and beauty at a glance, and a moment later, he stood be- fore her, his rough hand encircling her arm, and his seta riveted upon her face. ec ve caught you, my beauty!” he cried triumphantly. ‘‘ Didn’t you think I war Cap’n Dave! I used to sarve under him, but we played quits to-night. I talked too much, gal— entirely too much for Cap’n Dave. Isaid thata gal of your looks did escape from Collyer’s train, an’ he said that if I would still talk such non- sense, I might pack my kit an’ dust. You see he says nobody gotaway; you stan’ here to prove that + wor right, an’ he war wrong. — Bless me! I’m glad I found you. Why, you be growna deal since that night. Haven't furgot it, ve ye, my little bird? The man rattled his sentences off too rapidly for the girl, eager as she was to talk, to get in a single word, until he paused for want of breath. e stood with his back to the foe, crouching near with the knife; but the Indian’s eyes were full of curiosity. He, too, had been rised by the appearance of the girl; and, for the mo- ment, had forgotten the mission upon which his chief had dispatched him. ‘“What do you mean, sir?’ cried the girl quickly upon Armstrong’s last word. ‘You hevn’t furgotten, I hope,” he said, aston- ished. ‘“‘Why, warn’t you on a train once when a passel of Injuns and whites came down upon it an’ killed everybody?’ “‘Oh!” cried the girl starting from the outlaw, and with a wild shriek she threw her hands to her head, and staggered against the walls of the cavern. “Now you’ve got the thinkin’ capon!” Rafe said. “I didn’t think you could furget that time. It sticks with me, fur I saw you crawl from the wagon, an’ run off!” “ Forget that night? never!” was the cry, and the fair speaker, with a pair of eyes flashing above hee cheeks, sprung erect, and halt- ed before outlaw. ‘“That’s what I thought!’ was the rejoinder. ‘‘T war thar—” ‘You! And do you come hither to tell me that you were among the forest fiends who at- tacked my father’s train that night, and in cold blood butchered all save myself? Do you know that I have lived for vengeance} e person who offers me the only kindness that I have re- ceived in these woods since that night of blood, has promised to hunt the wolves of murder down. He may be on their trail now! I have asked to be permitted to follow him; but he says ‘‘no!” and here I stay until he brings the instigator of that massacre to me.” A strange smile played with Rafe Armstrong’s lips while the girl talked excitedly for revenge. ‘‘ When war he here last?’ the outlaw asked. te ” ‘* What do you think of him?” ‘What should a person in my situation think of the only one ees friendship?” “Oh, thet’s a question. I wanted an answer. Now, to come down to business: Do you love that man?” Lo 1 hesitated, evidently startled and as- hed. “Why these questions?” she said coming for- GOMIEGEROOKS : ' } : a ———