Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 5 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

- tim of a 26 Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. shut up in a tomb I could not have been more terribly impressed with the presence of death.” ‘‘ But how comes it you are here, stranger?” “Can I trust you, my boy?” the man asked, fixing a searching look upon the boy’s open, erst e. ‘You can, provided you’re an honest man,” replied the youth, with a combination of impu- dence and earnestness in his tone and words. ‘‘T’m a friend to allmen but mean red-skins and their meaner white allies, the cut-throats an’ robbers and women-stealers.” ‘‘ Women-stealers? What do you know of women that have been stolen?’ demanded the man almost fiercely. ‘* T know enough to make me mighty suspicious of every stranger,” retorted Joe. Ree a ‘* Answer me, boy,” cried the man. women have been stolen?’ ““ Why, Miss Graceful Manville, that’s who.” “MM God, boy! do you know where Grace Manville is?” ‘* Yes, sir, I do; but what do you know "bout her, stranger?’ Joe questioned. ‘*T know a great deal. I was with her when she wasruthlessly torn from the stage by road- agents or brigands and carried away. I was her companion and escort, and—” ‘* Hold on right there, stranger,” interrupted Joe. ‘“ Light begins'to break in upon my know- ledge box. Your name is Sampson, isn’t it?’ ‘Tt is. Henry Sampson.” ‘* Tt’s a fact, stranger. I’ve heard Miss Man- pr talk *bout you and lament you as probably ‘Do you know where she is now?” ‘Yes, sir; she’s not furaway. I, Vagabond Joe, rescued her from the Indians twice, and it’s been nip-and-tuck atwixt us since then. But seein’ you’re all right, and have got a good fire and warm quarters, s’pose I bring Graceful and the rest of my friends down here. Thar’s four- teen of us, all told—two gals, one boy, and that’s Vagabond Joe, and eleven men.” Sampson seemed delighted with this news, and A a his hat on, he followed Joe out of the cabin. Joe’s return had been waited upon the hill with impatience, and when his friends saw him emerge from the great snow-mound and motion them to come down into the valley, a feeling of relief and good spirits prevailed. In a few minutes the party was ushered into the lonely, hidden cabin; and when Grace and Henry Sampson met, an exclamation of the most heartfelt joy burst from their lips, and a moment of genera rejoicing follow ‘‘ Henry!” Grace finally said. ‘I never ex- ee to see you alive, for I was certain those eadful robbers would kill you.” “They did their utmost to murder me, Grace,” Sampson replied ; “* but during the storm I managed to slip my bonds and escape. They fired upon me, and I was hit by two balls, and came very near bleeding to death. The storm, however, favored me. The drifting snow filled my tracks, so that my enemies could not follow me. I wandered on and on through the storm, with no more idea of where I was going than a child; but the Lord favored me by leading me to this : abi1, where I have remair ed ever since. I fou: d a2ax here in this desert d hut, and with this 1 procured fuel. The robbers left my match-safe, so I was en- abled to light a fire; and by making a snare, I was enabled to catch rabbits enough for food. But, Grace, how have you been faring all these long days and nights?’ ‘*T have been pagan. Salm gpe of terrible adventures am the Indi of whom we have se often en in a spirit of jest. But, thanks to Vagabond Joe, I have been, at last, permitted to escape.” ‘* Don’t you think the attack upon our coach a premeditated affair, Grace?” asked Sampson. “T know it was, Henry; and Dr, Cudmore was at the head of the whole affair.” ‘‘ What? Dr. Cudmore, of Tennessee.” ‘* Dr, Cudmore, of Tennessee.” “Grace, are you not mistaken?” “‘T am not, He It was Cudmore himself who carried me off that night, and placed me in a sleigh waiting near. I have stood face to face with him—talked to him, and know I am not mistaken.” ‘‘Great Redeemer! what does it mean? Who ever dreamed of Burton Cudmore being in the West? What has brought him here?’ “T can tell you, Henry; I have been the vic- dreadful con y. This much I have learned through young lady, Miss F< : this be possible?” ‘Yes, it seems that my coming was antici- pated, and that upon the night of our capture, a youeg lady arrived at Fort Dodge on the stage, and was at once taken to Glendale by your old friend Isaiah Newbold.” ‘* Well,” said Mr, Sampson, impatiently. ‘‘ She was duly installed mistress of Glendale as Irene Lamar, heir-apparent to the estate a fortune of Jerry Grimes.” CHAPTER XXV, A BLOW FROM A COWARD’S HAND, Mr. HENRY SAMPSON was completely astound- ed by what Grace Manville had told him. He was a man of calm judgment, cool and deliberate under the greatest provocations to excitement. In fact, he had ee this through force of habit, for most of his life had been spent amid the world’s excitements. He loved excitement, and had always sought it in the calling of a self- constituted detective. To this man and Isaiah Newbold it will be remembered Jerry Grimes intrusted the important case of hunting up the heirs to his suddenly-acquired fortune, After these two men had started out in search of Uncle Jerry’s heirs, they prosecuted the search together for some time. They finally struck the trail of one of the old gentleman’s sisters. They followed it up, only to find that the sister, Ruth Lamar, and her husband, were both dead. But they had left a child—a little girl whose name was teste. Little Irene’s —_ on her father’s side, a Mrs. Manville, adop her under the name of Grace Manville. By this she grew to womanhood. Everybody knew her as Grace Manville; and there were many of her most intimate acquaintances who never knew that her true name was Irene Lamar. In fact, she had come to Manville as her true name, herself; and it was this adherence to her adopted name that enabled Cudmore, Newbold and others to work up a gigantic con- spiracy. Cudmore’s object was to possess him- self of the person of Miss Manville, who had re- ected his love; while Isaiah Newbold, leaving pson alone to work up the case for Uncle Jerry, turned his attention to the consummation of a plan to possess himself of Uncle Jerry’s wealth by presenting false heirs. Never, until Grace Manville had recalled the fact to him, did Henry Sampson dream of a conspiracy of this kind. Never mistrusting Newbold, he had furnished that man informa- tion from time to time, that would have ena- bled him to out his work of evil more perfectly. But was plain enough to him now. e plot had been well planned and ex- ecuted, so far. Even nature seemed to have anticipated their desires and brought on the worst storm ever known in the North-west. But if it had been instrumental in _ helping them, it had also been the instrument of defeat- ing them; for a glorious failure now stared the arch-plotters square in the face, though they were in blissful ignorance of the fact. The hunters and rescuers made arrangements to re- main at the hidden cabin until the cold weather had subsided. In order to avail themselves of more room for their party, the partition door was again tried, but refused to yield, so, for the time being, it was permitted to retain its secret. Guards were stationed outside, and Vagabond Joe and Neutral Bill sent out in search of game for supper. Those in the house now entered into a general conversation, the conspiracy against Uncle Jerry Grimes forming the eg topic. Myrtle Gray revealed all she had heard, or seen, rather, between Lrene *, the im- postor, and Isaiah Newbold, the villain, the night she was a visitor at Glendale. Her story caused no little surprise and indignation among her auditors, “Did you tell Mr. Grimes of it?’ asked Bildad Meeks. ‘‘T did not tell him the particulars; I told him to be careful, for | believed there was a con- spiracy on foot against him.” ‘You should have told him of their silent conversation,” said Mr, Sampson. “T was afraid to,” responded Myrtle, “for Irene had discovered that I was a listener to their conversation.” ‘** Indeed!” exclaimed Grace; “then that ac- counts for your / Fegan here. They wished to have you out of the way also, ButI am glad of it, for this reason: believing that you cannot endanger their plans, they may not precipitate their final blow upon the head of Uncle Jerry, and this will give us time to defeat them alto- gether.” ‘‘No man could have convinced me that Isaiah Newbold was such a villain,” remarked Sampson, regretfully. ‘I always took him into my confidence; and I now see that his pretended interest in this matter has been in order to take advantage of us all. He knew well enough that. but one of Mr. Grimes’ sisters could be found. It is true, we traced thesecond one to Independ- encé, Missouri. From there she and her hus- band, whose name was Jobn Kenelm, went into lowa, where all traces of them were lost. Her husband was an Indian fur-trader, and my opin- ion is, they were murdered by the Indians. At any rate, [ have been unable to hear one word of them after they left Fort Des Moines, some fifteen years ago, When there, they had one child, a boy-babe of two or three years of age. They were headed west; but nothing was ever seen or heard of them after leaving the fort, All this Isaiah Newbold knew; and I suppose he and Cudmore have planned and plotted together for the p of securing the great fortune that is to be settled upon Irene Lamar. “* By the prophets!” exclaimed Bildad Meeks, ‘it’. be a stunner on them if we march down thar with all you folks, and bounce in on the onsu tin’ impostors, I reckon they didn’t think that Miss Manville, Mr. Sampson, and Myrtle could possibly escape Ingins, renegades and wolves and storm; and I reckon as what they wouldn’t either, if it hadn’t been that we old horny-handed hunters war a providential circumstance that saved ’em.” While this conversation was going on, Vaga- bond Joe and old Neutral Bill were scouting the valley—one below and the other above the cabin —in search of game. Rabbits were plenty, and Old Bill was satisfied to put in his time in pop- ping these over with his revolver; and when he ad finally secured a dozen or so, he returned to the cabin and set Bildad Meeks and two others to dressing the game. Vagabond Joe was not satisfied with such small game as rabbits; so he ventured further down the valley in hopes of finding a deer, and further than was consistent with his safety, for he suddenly found himself confronted by two savages with drawn tomahawks. They had risen out of the snow before him, and as they stood over a rod apart, Joe saw at a glance that he was in their power. If he should raise his to slay one, the other could slay him before e could have time to turn. In quiet submission the youth lowered the — of his rifle, and laid his hand upon his reast. The red-skins understood his signs of surrender, and lowered their upraised tomahawks. Joe recognized one of the Indians asthe youn war-chief, Red Hand, whom he had captur under the snow-drift nearly a week previous, and whom the hunters would have slain had it not been for the magnanimity of his captor wae 2 ae for his life, and finally had him set “The e-face boy is Red Hand’s prisoner now,” said the young chief, advancing and tak- ing the lad’s rifle from his ‘Yes, Red Hand, you’ve got the heels of me this time, sartain,” replied Joe; ‘‘ but ['d rather be your prisoner than any other Injin’s this side of the happy hunting-grounds,” ** Does the -—_ pale-face think I will set him free, as he did me?” the Indian asked, fixing his piercing black eyes upon our hero, ‘“‘T have found the red-man to be as generous as the white man in acts of kindness,” “The pale-face dog is full of flattery and de- ceit, and must die,” said Red Hand’s savage companion; ‘‘ he is cunning as the fox, and has slain many of our friends. Let his scalp orna- ment the lodge of Red Hand’s sweetheart.” Red Hand shot a contemptuous glance at his companten, then turning to Joe continued: - Hand will not outdone in kindness by a pe boy. You saved my life when your friends wished to os me; and now I will save yours when Sabulah wants it. Here is our rifle. Gobackto your people. Remember Hand ane ae nothing now. When we meet we will meet as deadly foes,” ‘So be it, Red Hand,” responded the boy, tak- ing his rifle from the chief’s hands, and turning his back upon the Indians. He had not gone over fifty paces when Red Hand’s companion snatched up his rifle and fired at the retreating lad, — a groan, Joe staggered and fell to the earth. ‘* Why did Sabulah shoot the pale-face?” cried Red Hand, turning upon the treacherous war- rior with blazing eyes. ‘Because he 2 killed many of Ishtahaba’s warriors,” was the reply. ‘‘Sabulah is a coward! He shall die!” and quicker than a flash Red Hand raised his hatchet and buried it to the eye in his companion’s brain, eonmicboo cS aan EE aaa