Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 498 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

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' a am 3 a ee f " - _ ‘ 4 a mr. . ny ~ * id ¢ . y * SOc Bi as - Yeo ole as > %e a eZ Le es ~ vans >, a .2 _ ~~ 1 which is sudden the winding trail upon which Peo <i yy RE hd ~— , ; ‘ $$ ne — _ — ee ee ——— - -_— supple form dropped lightly to the cround from be- side the driver on tne box—the formof a ruddy- faced, blue-eyed youth near his nineteenth summer apparently, dressed in a neat suit of gray, his waist encircled with a b: lt of arms. | “ig Major Axfell here?” Not loudly spoken, but enunciated so clearly and distinctly that the words seemed to ring above the | clamoring voices; so fea:lessand yet 80 quiet and unob_rusive, in 1one, that to a man those of the. camp’s denizens present turned and stared curious- ly ot the youth. ‘LT left the majur in his office bub amoment ago, my lid,” quickly responded a tall powerf:.|-looking felow—no less x personage thantaul jemple, the ma shalof thecamp. ** Yon smrll builcing, just vis ble in the twilight, is the place.” T en turning to the veteran on the box, the speak- er continued: ‘* You ran afoul of Bludso’s toll-takers, Buck?’ The drive: uttered agrimechuckle._ . ‘‘Nuy, nary!” giving his armsa tragical fling, “*Twar the gang w’at run afoul ov ws / ‘‘Say goloots, slap yer peepers on yender little hunk ov bone and muskle slidin’ fer the major’s of- fice, will ye? “quint keerfully an’ take his measure a A zame-cock of purest : train aire that same lad!’ ** 4 ténce foot, Buck?” ‘* A live-coal, fresh from Brimstone, pard!”’ ** His han’le?”’ ** Rollo Axfe!l, the major’s son!” ‘* But the toll-ta ers, bridger—what of them?’’ in- terposed Saul Temple. “Humph! Nothin’ ov quinsequence, Pard Saul We kem through onteched this trip. cut thar’s cola mea! at ihe big bend on ihe trail: Lordee! how that pesky kid can han’le ap’ar ov sixes, pards!”’ ; ‘*Subdue your feelings until you have piven us an account of the fight,” urged the marshal, justa trifle impatieatly, *Es ef | war pot!” sniffei Bridger disdainfully. ** Don’t be so offishus, .aul Temple. Cain’tc:. rk m-- self entirely. Now, le’s see—et happened "bout like this: ‘** Left Goleonda this mornin’ ‘ith one passe’ser— youn’ Axfell Everything war sere:e until we reached ther big bend, late this a’terno n, w'en race an’ his men jumped ther outfit in reg'lation style. tO Thar war on’y one thing ter do—hol’ up! An’ that war w’ot I tried ter do, w’en, quicker ‘n flas :- lightnin’, su’thin’ cold bumped up ag’in my head an’ thet haydoogia ov wil’-cats, young Axfell, sez, es an’ quick: “You whip an’ pull throuxh, Buck Bridger, or yer cabeza’s a sieve!’ | **An’ ‘ith that he began ter pute lead at ther gang ‘ith his other six, am .n drop} in’ a: each shot an’ faster ’n ye c’u’d count! “Tork ov appearances deccivin’! Gents, thet bread-an’-lasses kid aire jest a whirlvgust ov de’th —a compressed cyclone ov destruction, or I’m the meanest liar in Nabob’s Bar! He—” ** You laid whip, I suppose, Buck?’’ quietly broke in Saul Temple. “Yas, I laid whip,” snorted Bridger. s’pose I did? EfI sat still, et war sure de’th; e run, et meant a chaince fer life. An’ putt yer stack down thet I han’led ther ribbons ther best | knowed | how!” ** And pulled through unharmed," commented the | marshal. “ W’ich same war more then Bludso’s men did,” | declared the driver, with a sudden relaxation of his facial muscles. ‘‘Ha! ha! Saul Temple! Wish ye c’u'd ’a’ see’d et! Fu'st on ther right, then ter ther left, an’ then straight ahead. all quicker’n ther play ov a rattler’s tongue, ther p’izen kid socked his lead home, fer keeps. An’ he won ther bluff, (oo, fer Bludso an’ his men got back fast, Tork ov vigilantes! He! he! Saul!” : : **Vigilantes!’’ echoed a beavy base voice, from di- rectiy behind the marshal. ‘‘A good thing, gentle- men, as a rule, in this country. But in the present instance their usefulness is impaired by the Jack-o’- lantern propensities of these festive knights of the | highway. ‘True for you, Idaho!”’ exclaimed Saul er: half-turning to face the bearded giant who had spoken. ‘But, emboldened by continued success, they will overst:p the mark some day, and then the trees of the Golconda trail will bear fruit hideous to ~ see.” A few words more, then the oy fo for the supper hour o and. Andsocame Rollo Axfell, the mine-owner’s son, into Nabob’s Bar. Fight weeks have glided by, maturing budding spring into biooming summer, The scene is Nabob’s Bar; the twilight hour is again at hand, and about the doorway of Limerick’s alace lounge the self-same group of idlers who wit- nessed the advent of Rolio Axfell. The stalwart form of Saul Temple alone is missing. oup of idlers dis- the camp was at _ A pale, slender, blue-eyed man, of years beyond fif- | ty, the place of the absent marshal; bis hands toy. ssly with the butts of the weapons banging at his middle, his eyes sparkle feverishly, and on his mobile face is an expression of deep concern, A strange hush holds sway over the group—a hush broken by a rapid beating of iron- shod hoofs and the dull rumbling of wheels far down She es at last!” os e wed pened his % com . * ut ar ’ y hoarse - unnatural, as = turns almost fiercely toward s Burr, the Man from Hard Luck. -- +e - SOi — Se jetty blackness. —_ eee — leader of the armed and desperate-lookin confrenting the sport. bis coarse toves vibrating with malicious exultartion. “Woe Ys ; rough, in m aire fish; an’ yet, we hain’t follered yer fer ail these miles for plunder alone, Perdido.” man , “No,” Bravo Brice continned. ‘* We knows thet | ye hes gold, Perdido Fernandez; but not all yer | yaller dus: c’u’d’a’ drawed ther Serpents ov Cim- arron so far out ov their way.” +6 Lazy y Perdido,’’ retorted the Bravo. swore then ter hev revenge. ther yer was on our trail. we putt up thes hyar leetle job; and, sport, I kalkilate that yefaire purty nigh cornered, ‘Now will ye kindly drop yer gilt-edged toy, or | must we stan’ an’see ye suffer fro lead p’ison?”’ i a ee eee —— , 7 - ‘ 2 " , . : / —— ¢ ss , 4 J ~~ _ -_ - > . 7 . we. a, Oy s> -f > ; - . } ® *- ‘ = ye . “ Te ve oe F « ® “a |» “ ,~ = J “a f 2 * if. o rs + i. * : ™ ee ‘Wie! Axfell! Put off that death’s-head look! Your cub’s all right—a round thousand backs the opin- ion!” No word is vouchsafed in respouse, Major Axfell _ mechanically makes his way through the gathering crowd, then halts to await the approach of the stage. On comes the ramshackle vehicle, Old Buck Bridg- ra plying his whip relentlessly. Ashe ronnds up be- ore into the pallid face of Major Axfell, then turns his - leaden-hued visage to the man beside him upon the box, @ sound akin to a smothered imprecatiou ac- - companying the action. Axfell peers sharply up at the man beside Bridger, “Tt is you, Saul Temple?” he demands, huskily. “7 6s8."* ** Where is—”’ ** Your sonis dead—”’ * Dead—Saul!”’ “Dead, my friend! He was enticed awa: from | Golconda this morning, by members of Bludso’s Band, and murdered!” CHAPTER I. STRANGELY MET. Tue reckless sport was cornered—driven at bay | like a bunted beast. Yetthere was no sign of flinch- ing. His head was thrown back pact and defiantiy. his broad chest expanded, and in bis black eyes was a light very like tue angry, lurid glow of smoldering coals, ' A full balf-score deadly steel tubes stared him straight in the face; but he stood calm and cool, a | bitter sinile revealing his strong white teeth. bis athletic form in bold relief against the wall of gra rock, his left hand banging carelessly a' his side, his right cle g the butt of an elegantly-mounted, but serviceab In hight, he was perhaps a trifle under six feet; his shoulders were broad and shapely; his chest was full and well-rounded. Titanic strength and catlike agility lay in the mold of his arms, trunk and limbs Of princely poise was his head, with delicate yet clear cut features, aud long, crisply-curling hair of From lip and chin swept, respec- tively, a dainty mustache and imperial. His eyes were large and intensely black; his face was a deep olive tint. At a glance it was apparent from both attire and bearing that this man at bay was a border sport. He looked it from the ecro:n of his broad white | sombrero to the soles of his dusty patent-leather | boots. He was well armed, too, for belted to his waist were a second revolver and a bowie-knife, while across his shoulders hung a “ inchester rifle. And, looking at him, is would instantly occur to | all that, the dashing sport was completely master | of the “tools.” ! At the feet of the man at bay lay a poncho upon which, apparently, he had been recliving, and a dozen paces distant a clean-limbed mustang, saddled and ready for flight, leisurely cropped the scant _ mountain herbage. “ S'prised, hain’t ye, Perdido?’ exclaimed the group “If so, not agreeably,”’ was the cool retort. ‘*T suppose, Bravo Brice, thet ye an’ ther Serpents ov Cimarron aire hyar ter levy toll?” *Prezactly, Perdido—prezactly,”’ guffawed the mirth. ‘All :het kems to our net ‘No, I kinder think not.*’ observed the entrapped his red lips curling grimly | The dark sport uttered a soft laugh. “True!” he cried; “the Serpents ov Cimarron aire es lazy a pack ov thieves an’ cut-th l as; but in s’arch ov revenge tireless, “Et am yer life we wants wuss than yer money. We hain't fergot thet a week ago ye putt ther Vigilantes ov Ba ca ag’in’ us, an’ thet half our men war killed. We ‘en we diskivered And a mad light flamed up in the eyes of the burly desperado, Perdido laughed carelessly. A close observer vo mere petices. that his one breast expanded an t uscles con Sirota 4 a m racted asif for a leep. bs “Taint Jest as comfortable hyar es I e’u’d like ter hev it,” he admitted, his black wickedly; “but don't f-ra holy se okt it een minute git it inter er addled brain that I am goin’ ter arom may tools. ravo Brice, ‘*Yer view ov the present stat affairs aire kinder biased—lop-sided. Can't i thet | hyar leetle peacemaker P ints straight fe cabeza? an’ can’t ye kalkilat chainces aire thet ef trot at my side in the race over ther ye.try yer ri s ge “Ther deck hes bin packed gin’ me in this game ter ther death; but ef ther hands aire all full an’ re- volvers trumps, ploy / the slender, blue-eyed man. swing his keerds fer all they aire wu’th!” Perdido Fernandez will * imerick’s Palace, he casts one swift look down | ~—_ ee e-looking revolver at jul] cock and leveled. | | his mustang. ull night hides us from our foes, when we'll turn and unseen strike back blow for blow.” _ set, determined expression ment it could be read at a glance that the Serpents oi —— i et m a bad case OV | er | e from thet thet ther in’ game yell th | to support his trembling form Involuntarily Bravo Brice shrunk back a trifle, for oa was a menacing ring in the swiftly-uttered words. At the same instant, with the abruptness of thought, the bold sport, dropping to his knees, with his left hand caught up the poncho and enveloped his head in its folds. Simultaneously, and before the surprised Serpent could lift even a finger, his re- volver—its muzzle in what seemed to a simple tuft of dry grass—cracked once, twice, thrice, in rapid succession, and up from the ground shot a broad sheet of flame, hiding him from view. In the briefest measurable space of time the sultry air became charged with a peculiar thick white smoke, which erly enshrouded both the hunters and the bunted. { “Perdition! We aire tricked, pards! Fire—fire! an’ break fer ther mustang!” cried Bravo Brice, hoarsely, coughing and sneezing, as he rapidly emptied the chambers of his revolvers at the spot’ where he had last seen Perdido, the sport. Then, high above the rattling discharge of fire- arms, a derisive, taunting yell rung out, followed b the rapid eclaitter of hoofs, and down the narrow vale ley swept the fleetfooted mustang with Perdido bending low in the saddle. A howl of wolfish anger escaped the chief of the desperadoes. ‘Jump fer ther horses!” he shouted, savagely, as the smoke-cloud lifted until the escaping 52 rt was vi-ible, ‘* Mount an’ a’ter ther Sip ty CUS, 10t foot! Wl git ‘im yet—ther mustang hes bin hard ridden an’ aire no match for our horses!”’ And even as he spoke he led the way, In grim silence the Serpents followed, and a mo- ment later the entire band was mounted and cours- ing down the valley io swift pursuit of the bat+d sport. . Far in advance, through the narrow, tortuous length of the fastness. and out from the gathering shadows of the foothills into the broad yellow sun- ligbt of a broad plain thundered Perdido, his face grim and determined. “We aire fainin’, agely, as he and his and flashed across the level of the plain. ards!’ cried Brice, sav- oll-wers left the foothills ‘*Ther | powcer-trick ov ther derned cuss won't sarve him a cent’s wu’th! Ther sin aire settin’. but afore night comes on we'll finish the sleuth-hound forever. Then, ho! fer fresh fields and greater pastures, _ Whar no more we’jl see ther crimson sign ov ther _ hand an’ ther sarpent!” No word of response came from the Serpents of Cimarron; but there was a sharp clicking, as of strong teeth shut viciously together, and their evil eyes flushed madly. With one accord, the long ' rowels of their Mexican spurs were driven vet deep- er into the reeking flanks of the jaded horses. Perdido seem:d fully aware of his peril, for he cast frequent glances over his shoulder, “They are creeping up fast.’’ he at last muttered, for the first time in the chase applying the spur to “On. Fl-etfoot! on for another hour, Carefully he examined his ween eg! th ing ark face, Cimarron had pitted themselves against a man of nerve. On across the prassy plain swept the spirited mustang; on, until— : Cra k/ ea The report of a rifle rung out sharply, to be caught up in a thousand snapping, cracking echoes in the distant ) ills, and the dashing sport, drop jug - his wineneetae reeled and Ha 9 headlong from the saddle. with the blood trickling in a crimson stream across his forehead. Uttering a snort of alarm, the well-trained mus- tang galloped away a few yards, then belted, wheeled and came trotting back to the side of the stricken sport. ‘Brice and his men. startled, apparently, by the shot, abrupt'y reined in their prancing steeds, and for a moment sat as motionless aS SO Many graven images, in sharp relief against the golden splendor of nea wc stern horizon, looking askance at one an- other. “Pards, who fired that shot?’’ muttered the out- — Jaw chief uneasily. Then. as if in answer. up frem the rank grass of the prairie a hundred yards beyond Perdido arose & man—a short, rather slenderly-built fellow, repul- sive in appearance, clad in ragged buckskin, and armed with a repeating rifle. Stowly, and with a shambling gait, the assassin rifleman strode toward his victim. the rays of the eous Tace. “ Ther Devil!” and Bravo Brice abruptly wheeled his horse. * Turn, pards—turn and fly, for it aire Walki , Death, ther Leper—ther outcast oy ther plains!” be cried, in suppressed tones, ‘‘ Ef Perdido, thersport, et lives, it aire only ter suffer death through all hig fire. fer thet fiend in human shape hes marked him fer his prey!” \ Obeying, with one accord, the Cimarron brigand spurred swiftly away, followed by & taunting yell from the man who had robbed them of their victim, Advancing until] he was within a dozen paces of the stricken sport, Walking Death sta convul- sively, then halted’ droppin butt of his rife to e ground and clasping his bands over. the muzzle As revealed by the last. rays of the sun, a being more repellent could hardly be conceived. uF . Apparently a finely-formed man originally, he had fallen a prey to leprosy; and now bis form was * * ‘ re + : ~ ‘ "~*~ * : j ing P \ or A iz 7? x | 6) | ’ « “— a Pe é > -* » “a Pe os - = | * A, a .