Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 498 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

ee = _— “ sport’s, fer his’n were dug deep in Pete’s shoulder; not Pete’s, for his’n were gone from his belt, an *sides he c’'u’dn’t ‘a’ done et thar on ther ground. * Et were all right w’en ther noose went over ther rt’s head. Now, who cut et? Thar was no one " h enuff, butther— Hell's furies! c’u’d he ’a’ done e ’ ‘““Men aire ready—hyar’s yer hoss, leftenant!”’ uttered a gruff voice at Brice’s side, abruptly break- ing in upon his soliloquy, and causing him to start like cne detected in the perpetration of some overt ac t. Throwing aside the torch, Bravo Brice sprung into the saddle and spurred swiftly down the ; uss at the head of his men, his mind trying to gras) a reason- able solution to the puzzling enigma, Touching softly, yet with the bitterness of a mock- ing devil plainly palpable in the mellow sound, as the storm of yells and curses went up from the out- laws at his unexpected and almost marvelous escape; bending low to avoid the rain of lead that hurtled and stung through the intense darkness of the pass, at times coming Gangeronsly near; plying spur and using voice tourge on the gallant mustang; until far beyond range, Perdido gave no thought to the perils which the deep gloom of bis pathway might conceal. nce out of reach of the lead of his maddened toes, however, he resumed an upright position in the saddle and reduced the speed of his horse to a walk, muttering: ‘** All depends uron you, now, noble Fleetfoot, so let slow and careful be the word until we are out of the darkness of this cursed place, away from its traps and pitfalls, ‘After this night’s adventures with the Serpents, Tam more than content to go, and leave them to make their way to the mining-camps unwatched by me, “There is but one thing that makes me even in the least reluctant to tear myself from the red trail for the present—the lace handkerchief. If I but fully understood how it came into the leper’s hands! Can it be possible that there is a valid foundation for these wild vagaries that so continually haunt me, or are they but the children of a disordered imagina- tion, bred by the dying confession of the villain Bob Murty, at Santa Fe? “At times Iam tempted to set that confession down as naught but the ravings of a dying man; again, as a deliberately-concocted lie on the part of the moribund. to awakein mca certain interest in him and thus insure him a chance to escape should his wounds not prove fatal. : “But, in either event, there was a grain of truth at least in his statements, for found in the Barranca reion this outlaw band, the Serpents of Cimarron, just as he said { would, and that too just in time to deal them a heavy blow before they decamped for the gold-fields of Colorado to carry into effect some fresh schems of villainy, “But, so far asI was concerned personally, that sortie against them was a signal failure, for the man I most desired to meet, Captain Redblade, cither was not present or successfully eluded the eyes of self and the Vigilantes. “Then again, just when T was beginning to doubt the truth of the confession, that part of it relating to Carlotta Dane was broug4t vividly to mind by my meeting with Valking Death, the Leper, there nthe plain; and his voice, as if calling back the vail of ears, recalled and brought into Pencoce the ost girl, thus throwing a ray of doubtful light upon the most enigmatical of Murty’s utterances, “The only conclusion I can reach is if Murty meant that Carlotta Daneis yet alive, and here in the West, then she and the leper are one and the same, incredible as it may seem. Such being the case, |can no louger have reason to believe that she is a captive in the hands of Harold Chet- Wynd or Captain ReJjblade. On the contrary, she is at liberty and working against that vyil- to avenge her wrongs, a3 only & Woman of her peculiar talent and temperament can work, She it was who left the handkerchief and the warn- ing note: who, with her stage-learned arts, played upon the superstitious fears of Blunt Bill and his two colleagues, and effected my release, She—Hark! was that a hoof stroke?” Reining in abruptly, leaning forward in the sad- dle, peering sharply through the darkness, Perdido drew Lis hand back and forth across his brow, as if to clear the cobwebs from his brain, then with every sense on the alert, listened for a repetition of the sound which had broken in upon his musings. And it came, from far down the pass. faint and indistinct—the gradually receding beat of iron-shod hoofs, : “But one, and that one moving as if led,” decided Perdido, pusving Onward. *-It may bea road-agent, or Carlotta! Who knows? Heavens! I’d deliver up haif of everything | own to meet her free of all dis- guise! Even yet my pulses quicken as her glorious face rises up like a vision from the dead past. Could the black work of that day be undone! (Car- lotta!—Carlotta! 1 loved you—love you yet—shall love you till the grave yawns wide to hide me for- ever from the cruel bloochounds whom I dare not turn and rend!’’ A violent shudder swept over his strong frame. Raising his hands, he pressed his strangely throbbing temples, while his eyes burned with a liar hosphorescent glow. Then. his voice changing ron ae softness to metallic harshness, he con ued, saving: ** But whata fool am ]to talk of love! Bahi 1 lost all belief, all faith, in that absurd, mythica fever years ago. If Carlotta Dane does iive-—and there is every reason to believe she does, andis here ee a al ee among the hills, when we meetit shall be simply as friends long d—nothing more. For I doubt not that she too has long since outlived all sentimental foolishness, * Still, did I not know of old how simply able she is to care for herself in this gameof death, I would be far less willing to ride away and leave ber to fight it out alone. Alone! One weak woman against a score bloodthirsty devils!”’ Again his hands went up, pressing his temples as if he feared they would burst; and again that vio- lent shudder crept up and down his form, leaving him pale and speechless, With head bowed low, his hands hanging listlessly at his side, he left the sagacious mustang to pick its way through the gloomy pass. Arriv: d at the edge of the prairie stretching away to the east and north, after aglance at the stars he mechanically laid his course toward the latter point of the compass, and pressed bis steed into a sharp lope. And anon, during that long night-ride across the grassy plain, there floated back to the keen ears of the sport that suspicious sound he had first heard in ae pass—the dull hoof-beats of a rapidly-moving 10rse. T e first streak of dawn across the distant eastern horizon found him miles from the scene of his des- perate encounter with the Cimarron bandits, bolt upright ia the saddle, dashing forward at a sharp run, his eyes and face xflame with passion, Leading him by a hundred yards was a horseman clad in gray—shadowy, ghost-like—just visible in the dim. uncertain light. Straight toward the north rode the pursued, sit- ting the saddie stiffly, the reins hanging idly across tiepommel. Not once did he look to right or lft or rear; his dark eyes seemed fixed on the far distant horizon in a dull, hopeless stare, But for his voice, urging on his horse, the spectral rider might have been a corpse. On thundered Perdido, his spurs dripping red, until the dark pail lifted from the plain before the sun’s first ruddy rays; on, his black eyes flam'ng with a strange fire, his revolver gripped in his right hand, every nerve tingling with a wild, fierce joy. “It is he!’ he muttered, again and ag in, as the distance between him and the fleeing horseman de- creased by gradual, almost imperceptible degrees. “Tt is he! But how came he here? I left him in the pass, and yet— Ha! he is bound to his borse! his hands are at his back!” Another jangle of the spurs, a mighty bound, a swift rush on the ry of the black taustang, and Perdido shot alongside his flying foe. Another sec: ond, and bis iron grasp was upon the idly-flapping reins checking both steeds with a suddenness that sent them back upon their haunches, A swift glance at the serpent-encircled sombrero, at the black mask of the bound rider, and the mad sport shouted. “Devil: This is all—more—than I could have asked !"’ Simple in themselves, the words significance; but one man shoul that lone! ssessed a tragic ride away from spot in the plain, and the one remaining would be food for the coyotes and the vultures! The large, expressive, dark eyes of the road-agent chief fixed themselves upon the face of Perdido in an intense, burning stare. The lower edge of the mask fluttered as if he were about to speak; then he shrunk back, and the words remained un ttered, The blood had receded from the sport's face, bringing into repulsive prominence the dark brui-es and blood-stains, His eyes shone with a dull, red glow. An icy smile, far deadlier than the blackest of scowls, revealed his sharp, white teeth, and im arted to his curling lips a cruel, wolfish lonk, Slowly and deliberately, as if to prolong an exquisite pleasure, he raised his revolver to a level with Cap- tuin Redblade’s heart, “The game has changed, and it is my age ana your say, Harold Chetwynd!" he cried.” ** f any- thing you can Say will lighten your burden of deceit and treachery, speak! You have but a moment of time! One look at that handsome face of yours, then—” and Perdido gleaned forward and plucked aside the mask. One swift glance at the handsome but terribly drawn and heggard face thus revealed, and the sport sharply drew back, dronping his weapon, and ina hoarse, strained voice, exclaimed: “ Great Cod! Can this be you, Carlotta Dane—y ou, the road-agent chief?” CHAPTER VIII. CAPTAIN NONAME AND HIS NONENTITIES. ““RoaD-aGents? Wal. 7°, strawnger—not on my run thar hain’t eny, an’ hain’t bin since ther Vigil- antes went thro’ Bluuso’s Pand, nigh onter six months aro, They wis a pesky set, an’ more’n one pore devil ketched his last fit ov sickness a-buckin’ agin ‘em wile they worked this trail, They ‘u’d hold up ther ole huss once a week reg’lar.” It got to bea chestnut, Isuppose? Did the pas- sengers never resist 9”? *“ Wal, [reckon ef ye was ter git down an’ look, ye'd find a few "—with a chuckle—“ jest a few, min’ ve, ov ther ear-marks ov ther toll-takers on this ayer dear ole vehike' Ther galoots war derped lib 'ral ‘ith theyre lead; an’ ther passengers fer ther most part war ther cits ov ther Rar—hustlers, every one ov’em. Et war wuss nor Kilkenny cats.’ And eps ss a mouthful of smoke out of his wide nostrils Buck Bridger, relie of the old Overland. knocked the ashes from his cheroot, and, @ reflect- ive look on his bronzed, beardless face. skillfull flecked a fiv from the ear of his off-leader with his long whip-lash. ss as, them war a. Golconda and Nabob's times on ther trai: betwixt ar,”’ he continued, darting a Cactus Burr, the Man from Hard Luck. 7 eel le LL lll lll lll lll lll AL, BBD ALA DDAALLL AA, LALLA LL I D@DMRALALLAL ALS $$$ LL LLL LLL LLL EE —_— et ——— + eee es = swift, sidelong glance at the face of his outside pas senger. ‘‘ Ef—’’ ‘*So you have said before,” broke in the soft, pur- ring voice of the man on the box, asif he had grown weary of the subject. or was not desirous of hearing any detailed account of the deviltry of Bludso’s cut- throats, ‘*‘We must be nearing Nabob’s Bar, Buck?”’ ‘Th’ huss *pears ter be movin'—cain't say "bout ther Bar!” sniffed the manipulator of the ribbons, plainly nettled at the thinly-vailed insolence of bis volunteer companion. “Ef ther camp aire whar et war last trip, et aire "bout five miles down ther trail; ef et’s—” The remainder of the reply was cut short by the heavy report of a Winchester, Then, ont from the dense undergrowth on the west sideof the trail, a “six” at full cock in each hand, leaped a man—a slight, wiry fellow, of ath- letic build, clad in gray corduroy, his face hidden behind a black silk mask, and his head covered with a white sombrero, around which was coiled the stuffed skin of a prairie rattler transfixe) by a blood-rec dagger] ‘‘Down brakes, and round up, Jehu! or coil your next lash in Kingdom Come!” cried the personage, in cold, ringing tones, halting in the middle of the narr w trail, bis revolvers elevated to bear — the two men upon the box. * And you /”—addressing the outside passenger—“ up with your hands, palms out and empty, or I reckon you'll wilt as if you’d been hit by a full-grown thunderbolt! No foolish- ness. gentlemen, but business, first, last, and all the time!”’ Old Buck Bridger needed no second invitation to dfaw rein. Already | is horses were far back upon tnéir haunches. The rifle-shot from the bush was enough—he wanted no hint more forcible. It was hold up or die!” As for the outside passenger, the odd smile which a moment before had curled bis mustached lips died away. A strange flush crept into his pallid face, a gieam of tigerish cagerncss into his large black eyes. His hands seemed to creep toward his belted weapons; a moment of hesitancy, then they were raised, empty. ‘**Sensible—both of you!” commented the masked toll-gatherer, just a tinge of ironyin his smooth, well-modulate.! tones, as bis eyes met tho eof the passenger on the box, with a st ady, unswerving stare. ‘‘ Now, my genial Jehu, shout it down to the ver ple of your old hearse that oe Noname, of Nowhere, and his band of Nonentities are in com- plete possession of the road and the o tfit, and that with us it is simply a quesiion of their gold-dust or their lives!” Little need that Old Buck Bridger convey the sum and substance of the cool, iron-nerved toll-taker's words to the inside passengers. The shot and the sudden stoppage of the coach lad given them an inkling as the true state of affairs without and before the road-acent’s pointed request was ended a door in the side of the remarkable vehicle opened with a violent dvg, and the upper half of a more than ordinarily lank form was thrown into view, to be as quickly withdrawn. “Road-agents! by the Lord Harry!” ejaculated a sharp, irascible voice, while the speaker made a dive into his wide boot-tops, fetching up a pair of ancient French dueling pistcls. “A dozen of ’em at + com and all in masks! Draw, gentlemen, and defen these ladies and yourselves, If we must—” ‘Now, I cain’t see but one—dern my cats ef } Kkin!’* was interpreted in a wheezy sort of tone, from the opposite side of the coach. “Bin a-lookin ever since that shot, too. Ther ‘hang’ skeert ye wren ye opened ther door so suddent, Doc. Cool down an’ draw et soriermild. An’ fer he’ving’s sake, utt away them popguns, ef ye aire hungry ter see Nabob’s Bar this night. Ther br sh aire full ov ther cusses, an’ w’en yer give et out thet ye aire on ther shoot, big, w’y ye jest saw yer own lJaig off—that’s all! They w'u’dn’t leave a smell ov us!” ‘* Wrong *here, my hearty!” cried Captain Noname, catching the hurriedly-spoken words as he strode f.rward, *‘* We'd increase the smell, until the coy- otes and the huzzards had got in their work,”’ Then, raising his voice just a trifle, and instilling into it an autboritative ring: ‘Lieutenant Naught. you and Mr, Nihil come for- ward, “ Lieutenant Nothing, hold your men in readiness to riddle the old hearse from boot to box at the first sign of resistance.” At the giving of the first command. two cloaked and cowled figures appeared from the roadside, and moved forward with an eacy, gliding motion. Their long, loose black clovks effectually concealed the cov /ovr of their forms, but it was apparer’ that they were below the mecium in altitude, of sl nder build, and v sted with cathke agility. “Mr. Naught, take my place, roy | stand ready to ut @ quietus upon any move of the gents on the ox. “And you, Nihil—station yourself on the off side of the hearse, and don’t hesitate to drill any one who offers to resist,” The two cloaked figures glided silently into posi- = and the chief strode to the open door of the stage ; “A thousand pardons, ladies and gentlemen, for this interruption of your journey,” he exclaimed, bowing low, his tones filled with mock regret, his glowing eyes scanning with critical closeness the faces of the half dozen passengers within, ‘* Believe me, I deeply deplore being compelled to request each of you to step down and disgorge; but at the same time, mind you, at the first move toward re- sistance or escape, some of you will find the ‘hearee’ of the vernacular a hearse in realitv!” “4 | ‘ |