Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 519 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 meet her father, who, she said, was in business there. Being thus thrown into each other’s company, the young people soon became acquainted and sociable. As luck had it, during the last part of the journey by stage, they had the entire inside of the vehicle to themselves. They chatted and laughed gayly, and long ere they reached the end of the journey, Howard Thorne was willing to acknowledge that he was more than half-be- witched by his companion’s bright eyes, sweet voice and low, musical laugh. Howard Thorne was a college graduate, al- though not “ college-bred”» in the sense that the word is applied to many of our %modern college graduates. There was no trace of af- ectation or conceit about him, and Sylva Blair ad learned that he could be very pleasant and entertaining. She came to the conclusion that Howard Thorne was a fine young man—in fact, an excellent person to have for a friend. The coach rattled and rumbled along a moun- tain-pass, the driver on the box singing snatches of old songs, and occasionally cracking his long whip and shouting to the horses. In the course of conversation, Howard Thorne asked his companion: ‘Was it your desire to come out here into this rough country, Miss Blair,or did your father wish you to come?” ‘Oh, it was father’s idea,” she replied. ‘‘Y should hardly think he would wish you to expose yourself to the many dangers with which you will be constantly surroanded. If report speaks true, this is‘a very wild country, indeed.” “Tt isstrange. Father said that it was per- fectly safe out here. He praised the country very highly.” ‘Strange, indeed,” muttered Thorne, looking puzzled. «How long have you been separated from your father, Miss Blair?” ‘‘Oh, we have been together very little since I was twelve years old. e is a business man, and could not spare the time to be with me.” ‘¢- Your mother is dead?” ‘“Yes: she died when I wasa babe. i do not remember her.” ‘“ Pardon my continued inquisitiveness,” said Thorne, with a smile. ‘‘I suppose you have been with friends during the time that you and your father have been obliged to live apart?” ‘‘ No; I have been at school, where ail were strangers to me at first.” Thorne was silent for several minutes. The expression on his face showed that he was think- ing deeply. Finally he said: “Tt does not appear strange to me that your father wishes to again have his daughter with him, after so many years of separation; but it does seem strange that he should wish her to come out into this wild land, and, more than that, to travel alone, with no companion through this couatry, where there is constant danger from h e Indians and villainous road- agents.” a Why, sir,’ exclaimed the girl, in some alarm, “is there such danger?” ‘Yes; but we have almost reached the end of our journey, and have not yet been molested. I think there will be no trouble, but should trouble come— Spang he ' he sharp report of a rifle rung out, and a cry of mortal agony came from the driver of the stage, as he sunk down into the boot, with one hand pressed to his breast and dyed crimson with his life’s blood. Out from behind the rocks, where he had been cronenas sprung a man, who seized the leaders by the bits with an iron grip, and with a sudden wrench set them back on their haunches. At the same instant a band of dark horsemen dashed around a bend and surrounded the stage. Every man wore a black mask over his face and carried a cocked weapon in his hand. ‘‘ Road-agents!” gasped young Thorne, hoarse- ly, drawing a revolver at the same time. The girl uttered a faint exclamation of fear, but aid mpt faint. “ EKasy, now!” masked outlaw peered into the stage. foolishness, or—” Crack! Howard Thorne fired fairly in the speaker’s face, and he plunged headlong from his horse to the ground, Fierce cries of anger and surprise came from the astonished road-agents. Foran instant they hesitated, as though dreading a second shot. Then one cried: ‘‘Ten thousand curses! Danis killed! Haul out the infernal hound who fired that shot!” Several outlaws started to obey; but, at that instant, a wild shout came to their ears, followed < growled a harsh voice, 7 ** No Captain Mystery. _— = by the clatter of a horse’s hoofs, and, looking upward, the startled outlaws saw a strange ap- pearing horseman come dashing recklessly down the precipitous incline. The horseman’s hat was off, and his long dark hair streamed out on the wind, as he came mad- ly downward. He wore a coat of dark cloth, but the vest beneath it was bright scarlet in color. The horse he bestrode was a magnificent black stallion. The dark mustached face of the man was fixed with a look of reckless, devil- may-care daring. And in his hands, which wore freed of the bridle-rein, he held two heavy self-co-king re- volvers, with which he opened fire upon the staring road-agents. He worked his weapons with astonishing rapidity, and, although upon horseback and dashing down a steep and dangerous incline at a terrific pace, every bullet seemed to reach its mark. The outlaws seemed seized by confusion. At the first shot, one of them uttered a shriek and toppled over, falling from the saddle. “Then, as. the shots continued in rapid succession, men and horses went down. A few hasty return shots were fired, but the mad horseman still came on,a reckless laugh bursting from his lips. Then the outlaws turned and dashed away, as though from an avenging Nemesis. Released by the hands that held them, the stage-horses, becoming frightened dashed away, dragging the rocking stage behind them. Sending afew shots and a taunting laugh after the fleeing outlaws, the red-breasted horse- man turned his attention to the runaway horses attached to the stage. After firing the shot that tumbed one of the road-agents Loci the saddle, Howard Thorne re-cocked his revolver, preparatory to a repeti- tion of the shot. Then he heard the wild cry and rattling shots. ‘* Good heavens!” The cry burst from Thorne’s lips as he saw the reckless horseman come dashing madly down the steep incline. With bated breath, the young man watched the red-breast rider, ex- pecting each moment to see the noble horse plunge headlong, hurling both itself and rider down to death. But, nothing of the kind occurred. When the outlaw’s hands released the fright- ened horses, they plunged suddenly forward, throwing young Thorne off his feet into the bot- tom of the coach, A startled cry came from Sylva Blair’s lips. When Thorne regained his feet, it did not take him long to discover that the horses were unguided and, therefore, running away. | Oh, sir!” cried Sylva, ‘‘ what—what has hap- pened?” “Nothing very alarming, I think,” replied Howard, reassuringly. ©‘‘ A friend came to our rescue, and put the outlaws to flight.” “‘ But who is guiding the stage?” she inquired in alarm, as the veéannle careened dangerously to one side. ‘‘ We shall be killed!” “Don’t be alarmed, Sylva—Miss Blair. The driver may be injured so that he is unable to handle the horses; but I think we shall receive assistance. If not, perhaps I can manage to get out upon the stage. ‘Oh, I fear we shall be killed!” Thorne made no reply, but thrusting his head out of the stage-window, shouted to the driver, Again and again he shouted; still the terrified horses tore madly on and he received no reply frum the driver, who was lying dead in the ae with the reins still gripped by his lifeless ers. But from away in the rear came an arswer- ne ey | ooking back, he saw the red-breasted horse- man, who had charged down upon and routed the road-agents, in pursuit. Thorne waved his hand, and the pursuer an- swered in a similar manner, seeming to urge his flying horse to greater exertions. Howard Thorve turned to his fair companion, and found that she had sunk back in 4 cor- ner of the stage and covered her face with her hands. ‘Cheer up, little one!” he said, consolingly, attempting to assuage her fears. ** Help is com- ing. e are in no great danger, and I think the horses will soon be stopped.’ His words seemed to arouse her. She took her hands away from her face, showing it to be per white, but her voice did not tremble as she spoke: Ps I am not so very badly frightened,” sbe said, quite bravely, * I only felt a little excited for a moment, then came faintness, I shall be all right soon.” ‘“That’s good!” exclaimed Thorne, with satis- faction. ‘I feared you were overcome.” ‘*‘ Not quite. But you spoke of help.” ‘Yes: the same horseman who routed the road-agents is pursuing and rapidly coming up with us. He will stop the horses in some way.” Again Thorne looked out of the window, only to start back with a cry of horror. The narrow trail now wound round the side of a mountain. Upon one side of the trail, the mountain-side arose almost perpendicularly, Upon the other was a narrow cleft, or gully, that extended downward to an unknown contin the brink being at the very edge of the trail. And with the reins held in the nerveless hands of the dead driver, unguided, the horses were cragsing the rocking stage along that narrow rail! Thorne did not inform his companion of their perilous situation, although she seemed alarmed at his sudden exclamation, and questioned him as to the cause, As soon as he regained his composure Thorne again looked out. He saw at once that the horses had slackened their pace, although they were yet moving along at great Spee and the coach was in great danger of toppling over the brink of the precipice. He also saw that the red-breasted pursuer was close behind the stage. Gradually the trail widened, but before it seemed that a horse could gain a footing there, the horseman drove along the very brink of the chasm, beside the stage! Thorne saw at a glance that the reckless horse- man was not a very young man, but his age did not exceed forty—he might be younger. His face, although not unpleasant, was rather stern- looking. As he came alongside the stage, the horseman arose in the stirrups—stood upright upon the horse’s back—then leaped! He alighted upon the top of the stage, and a moment later had torn the reins from the grasp of the dead driver. The black stallion fell back and trotted along behind the stage. In a few moments the reckless man had the horses under control, and soon the stage drew up. A moment later the door was thrown open, and the red-breasted man said quietly: _ All safe, I think— pardon, how is the y? ‘Safe, thanks to you! Oh, sir, how can we ever repay you?” . i stranger made a careless gesture with his an ‘By not overburdening me with thanks,” he replied, with a rather unpleasant laugh. ‘‘ Par- don me if I am rude, but an overdose of thanks makes one feel uncomfortable.” “But you will at least tell us your name?” cried Thorne, “My name—well, by some I am called Red Robin, a name probably derived from the fact that I wear a scarlet vest. You may know me by that name.” ‘‘Well, Mr. Robin, if you did not dislike to be thanked—” “T know, lady,” with a smile that seemed more pleasant than before, ‘‘ I will consider if as good as said,—But we must go on.” Closing the door, Red Robin climbed upon the , and soon they were moving onward toward Bowlder Bar. CHAPTER Ii. STRANGE TELEGRAPHIC MESSAGES. DESPITE the fact that Bowlder Bar wasa very youthful mining-strike, to use a Westernism, “it war jest er-boomin’.” The camp was situated on a large stream of water—Big Snake Creek was the name by which it was known—and numbered seventy-five or ° eighty places of abode and business at the time of which we write. There were saloons, dance- houses, rough cabins, tents and a huge barn-like hotel and gambling-house combined. This latter building was owned by a small, smooth-faced man, who was known as Cyrus Gaines. He was a quick-motioned yet cool-ap- ring man, and had proven his ability to sue- cessfully conduct the ‘Clarion Hotel” by sum- marily disposing of various ugly customers, who had been disposed to cause him trouble. Those who claimed to know said that Gaines was ‘‘chain lightning on the draw” and could shoot ‘‘ plumb center, every time,” The ‘‘ beau- tiful way” in which he had laid out Pistol Bob, a noted terror and lightning shot himself, wop i —_ ———— — “2 — — “4 ; ' ¢/ .