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Pulp Fiction, 1886 · page 7 of 16

Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 483 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 483 — page 7: Pulp Fiction, 1886

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Rg erg eH me pw } se " 7 i a i i ee ee, ——- — —— ee ee —- —- Om ee ee + mc ee - _ a Utterly exhausted however, he could not | Late that afternoon a telegram came from | bitterly I had suffered from my fascination for make his way there, and lay down upon the sand until morning when he found he was near the hotel not far from Fortress Monroe. Dragging himself to the hotel he was kindly received and cared for, a purse was made up for him by the guests, although he had plenty of money with him, but he said he had lost it when the yacht went down. ith this money he took passage on the steam- boat that night for Baltimore, and from there had taken the train for Philadelphia. Such was his story, the only true part being that when he had fallen overboa:d he did find bottom, for the boat was in shallow water drift- ing near shore. ‘“Now, my men, Elegant Ed your captain being dead, and I holding the next rank to him, Iam your chief.” Just as he had uttered these words it was, when the man be deemed dead, for he believed that he too had fallen overboard and gone at once to the bottom, entered the room to cast the lie in his teeth. A shout of welcome went up from the men, at sight of their captain, and all eyes were turned upon Wolf. ptepping toward him Elegant Ed said pay aa ve ‘*? deemed you dead, sir!” ** As I did you.” ‘Vou certainly fell overboard.” ‘* Yes, in shallow water; but you?” ‘* Well down exhausted in the bottom of the boat, after the struggle aad am here to face you again.” **Do you mean to continue our quarrel?” ‘* We have no quarrel; it must be a struggle. ‘‘Here we can get weapons, and as you claim to be a good swordsman select a weaken from our stock, as I will, and we can settle at once whether you or I shall rule here.” The men saw that Wolf had not told them the truth, and they at once called out: ** Yas, let the best man rule here!” ‘‘T am content,” said Wolf in a voice hoarse with passion, for he felt deeply the coming of his chief, and weapons were brought from an inner room. ‘* Men, whichever of us dies, be sure to carry the body at once to the cellar and bury it, for ou must not be surprised with a dead man ere,” said Elegant Ed. ‘* We'll see to that, cap’n,” answeved Tiger, and then he, acting as second, put the two com- batants in position. Instantly the swords crossed, and the fight was begun in desperate earnestness; but, though Wolf was a clever swordsman, his movements were not as quick as his chief’s, and in a short while Elegant Ed struck up his guard and drove his sword into his breast, ‘‘ With my last breath I curse you!” cried Wolf, as he fell heavily to the floor. A light laugh broke from the lips of the out- law leader, and then he said: “Tiger, [leave you in command of the band in that man’s place, for I have to go away on business. Be sure and get rid of the body. Good-night, men,” And leaving the room, Elegant Ed coolly wended his way back to his hotel, and leaving word at the office to be called for an early train, half an hour after he was serenely sleeping, as though no hideous brand of crime rested upon his conscience—crime so black that the tears of angels could not wash out the stain upon his wicked soul. CHAPTER XI. THE MIDNIGHT INTRUDER. ALTHOUGH feeling wretchedly the next morn- ing, after her alarm, and strangely nervous, Mrs. Raymond could not be persuaded to re- main in bed, and so got up and breakfasted with her children. went to the cabin of the old negress who, with her husband, lived near, and whom he employed to do the work of the place. ‘‘ Auntie, I wish you would keep about the house as much as possible to-day, for mother is not well,” Will said. ‘6 Yas, Missy Pearl done tell me how a robber man skeert her las’ night, when I were gittin’ breakfas’ dis mornin’,” ‘* Yes, and it has alarmed her; and I wish you would keep near her to-day, and tell Uncle Joe to do the same.” ‘*T will, Massa Will, I'll do jist as you says,” answered the ‘good-hearted old soul, and Will felt greatly relieved to know that his mother would want for nothing. ; : TAS ; as * : ; + M “ rt és ti: AY & - dl ry » Will, and it read: ‘Important duty willkeep me in town to-night; | children, and here you have come : ’ but if you really need me I will come.”’ you, for i* was not love. ‘*T fled from him and came here with my ** Oh, tell me why you are here, for do you It was signed by Will Raymond, and the poor | not see that I am dying by inches?’ mother seemed to feel greatly the disappoint- ment of not seeing her son. ‘** Your beauty ts fading, Ruby, I admit; but I am here to tell you that you must call that After awhile she grew quite nervous, and | young hound off of my track, for I have a pre- Said: ‘* Pearl, lL feelso badly to-night that I wish you would put your things on and go into town after your brother.” ‘* Let me telegraph, mother, for I do not wish | to leave you,” urged Pearl. ‘* No, for it is after office hours, and he might not get a telegram, while you could surely find sentiment that, if Iam to hang, he will send me to the gallows.” ‘Your son?” 74 Yes.” ‘¢' You know him then?” **Oh, yes.” ** And he?” ** Does not know me; as you said, he believed him, and old Aunt Eliza will stay with me, so | his father to be dead; but if you do not force him go at once and you can catch the next train,” Pearl was alarmed about her mother, and hastily put on her wrap and hat, and hastened | away. Aunt Eliza was up at her went by to tell her to go at once to her mother and Uncle Joe drove her to the station to catch the train, and said he would await the return of herself and brother. Aunt Eliza had her hands in some dough, for she was working hard, and she hastened to com- plete her task to go down to the cottage, a couple of hundred yards away, when suddenly a form stood in the door of her cabin, She started, but, seeing that the visitor ap- peared to be a gentleman, she said politely: ‘““How-do, sah; is dere anything old Aunt Liza kin do for yer, sah?” ‘*l am a doctor, who has been sent out to see Mrs. Raymond, by her son, and [ am anxious to get some medicine from the village, so must ask you to go and get it for me. ‘Here is a ten-dollar bill, and you can keep the change.” ‘‘Lordy! you is a gemman, sure ‘nuff, sah, an’ lawful glad Massa Will done sent a city doctor out to see his ma, for de village doctor don’t know much *bovt heart troubles and dat’s what’s de matter wid Mis’ Raymond; but is you to stay, sah, ontil I gits back, for it will take me all of a hour, bein’ as my old bones hain’t so suple as dey was when I was a young gal.” ‘* Yes, I will remain and keep Mrs. Raymond company, as I cannot catch a train back for several hours,” and the doctor handed to the negress a slip of paper upon which was a memo- randum of what be needed. Oid Aunt Eliza at once locked up the cabin and shuffled off on her errand, anxious to get back by dark, and the doctor wended his way down the path to the Raymond cottage. Iie approached by the front piazza, and the door being open, he stepped within the hall. Mrs, Raymond was in the little parlor, lying upon a lounge. She heard the footsteps in the hall, and called out: ‘Is that you, Aunt Liza?” In response the man stepped into the room, and stood in full view of its occupant. A cry, as of bodily pain and mental agony commingled, escaped from the woman’s lips, and she staggered to her feet. ‘* You here ?” she gasped, rather than said. ‘Yes; and is this the welcome I receive from my dear wife?’ was the reply, in a sneering tone. ‘You were here last night?” she said, unheed- ing his question. ‘*] was, and your wild shriek drove me off, for 1 well know what that boy is when he is aroused.” ‘*I pretehded that I had seen your ghost, for your children believe you dead, and it is better so, for they look with honor upon their father, whom they believe to be in his grave; whilo, knowing you as you are, a criminal of the worst ae they could but loathe and hate you, as I Oo. ‘“'You draw a fine picture, but you did not be- lieve me dead?” ‘*Oh, no; I had no such cheerful thought, for, after your visit to me at the home of Colonel Ivey, I knew you to be alive. : ‘*T believe you knew me to be living when you married him.” ‘“In your black heart you know that you speak falsely. You sent me word, by an ally, who lied for you, that you had been killed in a railroad accident in the West, and I believed it, and was content. ‘Then you appeared to me, hoping to force me, through fear, to rob that noble man, Col- one! Ivey. ‘¢T fled from his home, but I left a note telling him all, for he knew of my past life, and how cabin, and Pearl | off.” i to give up the life of a detective, I will let him know all—yes, and my daughter, too.” + ‘*No, no! You weuld not do this?” ‘* Most certainly I will if you do not call him ‘‘And deprive him of work, and let us starve.” ‘** 1 don’t care what you do, so you call him off of my track.” The woman swayed toand fro as though about to fall, and then she said hoarsely; ‘* Inhuman creature that you are, if the secret must be known, I will tell it, and I will be the one that brings you to the gallows,” With the spring of a tigress she was upon him, and desperation giving her strength, she clung to him with grasps that he could not unloose, could not shake off, ‘* Help! Eliza! help! help! help!” Her voice rung out clear as a bugle, and the now thoroughly alarmed man tried to break her hold and dash away. But in vain, for she would not release him, while louder and louder arose her cries for belp, for she deemed Aunt ’Liza to be not far away. ‘* Let go your hold!” he shouted fiercely. ‘7 will not,” was the firm response, , Instantly he drove his fist into her upturned ace, It half-stunned her, but still she held on, and rae closer to him, he was unable to strike 1eT. ‘* Let go, or I will kill you!” he shouted, in ter- ror for his own life. ‘* Never, until you kill me!” ** And kill you I will.” ‘‘T do not fear you, and I will cling to you until help comes, and then you die on the gal- lows.” ‘“Womun, you shall die, by Heaven! if you defy me!” She laughed mockingly, yet still clung to him, ** Once more, will you release me?” ‘* No! help! help!” came the answer. ‘¢ Then die!” As he spoke he reached behind him, and draw- ing a knife, held it up before her eyes. ‘* Strike, for it will but be the crowning actin your crime-stained life.” She spoke slowly and distinctly, and looked him squarely in the face as the blade was driven into her back. With a groan the unfortunate woman let go her hold and sunk to the floor, while with a yell - terror the guilty man bounded toward the door, There he paused and looked back, his face liv- id, his form quivering, and his hands outstretch- ed. ‘Ruby! Ruby!” burst from his pallid lips. ‘¢ Great God! have I killed her at last?” He bounded out of the house, and, in the gath- ering shades of twilight ran toward the pier, where.was a small cat-boat, with sail set. Upon the deck of this little vessel he sprung, and, as he did so, the blood-stained knife drop- ped from his hand into the waters of the Sound, With a curse he unfastened the painter, and shoving off from the dock, seized the tiller and headed toward New York, leaving bebind him in the little cottage the victim whom his own hand had struck down, CHAPTER XII. TRACKED, WHEN Foxey was put upon the track of the Flower Girl by Wizard Will, it seemed to bea herculean task, to find in the great metropolis one person who had mysteriously disappeared, er her by foul means, or through her own will. Foxey was, however, not one to shrink from any task he had to perform. He had gone, ati the request of Wizard Will, and sought service in the employ of Flora, the . COF