Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 525 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

- ——— —— iio, / ae, ~ ee eee Brothers in Buckskin. > oe a Mission had cut a road up to the ruins still ex- ‘Yes, sonora, and you are Spanish?” isting upon the crest. “No, Mexican; buf, if you are not Mexicans, As they drew nearer the last rays of the set- | I feel l can trust you. I feared you belonged ting sun were penetrating the timber and light- | to the band of San Cruz,” and the woman shud- ing up the ruin of the old Mission House and | dered. Chapel,and Scraps eyed them with a look of awe. ‘**Oh, no, we are not Cowboy Pirates, as San hen at last the ford was reached darkness | Cruz and his band are called, but honest prairie- had fallen ee the prairie and grim and gloomy | men. Who is here with you?” the hill rose before them, “6 Not a soul.” But, knowing the way, Night Hawk and | “You mean what you say, senora!” Broucho Bill rode boldly intv the stream, Rel | ‘‘ Upon my honar, yes, senor,” Wolf following and Scraps slowly bringing up | ‘* And you have been here how long alone?” the rear, his eyes riveted upon the somber! ‘For over two years. But you will not be- ‘woods. | tray my secret, senors?” Suddenly he called out in startled tones: | ‘We know no secret to betray, senora,” said “Hold up, Mars’ Night Hawk! Seedah, Mars’ Broncho Bill, who had Ppnrogshes and stood Broncho! Ef dat hain’t a ghost yer kin kill me,” | regarding the pbantom-hke being he had and the frightened negro pointed to a white- | lassoed. robed form that suddenly appeared in the trail ‘“My secret of being here, Oh! you will not before them and standing in the very edge of the | betray me, senors!” and she clasped her hands timber, looking indeed most ghostly in the | together in a pleading way. weird twilight. ‘No; but we wish to have a talk with you, as we have come here to camp. ‘*Broncho, will you go and send Red Wolf after Scraps, for he will never stop running THE anxious eyes of Scraps bad seen the | until he reaches San Antonio, and I will await weird form ne iring their trail, even before the | your return bere, andin the mean time build a Powell brothers had done so, for they were not | fire so as to see about us.” expecting to beheld a ghost suddenly stand be-| Broncho Bill sprung into his saddle and rode fore them. away through the timber, and Night Hawk **Don’t shoot, Bill! but try your lasso,” cried | turned again to the woman, who he saw was Night Hawk, checking Will Powell, as he sud- greatly excited, for she was trembling and denly dropped his hand upon his revolver, wringing her hands. **Don’t shoot, but scoot /” cried Scraps, and ‘“My dear senora, I beg you tocalm your- in another instant he was plunging back through | self, for we mean you no harm. the ford, ‘‘We have come here to camp for a few Broncho Bill was considered the deadest hand | months, perhaps longer, and besides my brother at lariat-throwing in Texas, as his brother well | ani myself, there is an Iudian, our friend, and knew, and so had urged him to use the lariat | a negro, our servant, who ran away at sight of now, , you, believing that you were a spirit from the The chief, Red Wolf, caught the pack-horses, | grave.” which Scraps had let go, and remained motion- ‘‘Far better, perhaps, it would be were [ in less; Night Hawk also kept at astand-still, while | my grave, senor; but let me tell you that I have Broncho Bill, seizing his lariat, spurred for- | masqueraded as a ghost to keep all away from ward. this old ruined Mission, As he did so the white form suddenly waved ‘* Men fear the supernatural, where they have its arms and a sepulchral voice cried: no fear of their fellow-man, and the strange, ‘* Back! enter not the domain of the dead!’” sad story which hangs about this ruin, the But, Will Powell did not hesitate; on bounded | graves of its many dead, have been my safe- his mustang, his rider upright in his saddle and | guard.” whirling the coil around his head. - **No one ever comes here, you think?” As he neared the form in white, it suddenly ‘‘In the time that I have been here but two turned and fled like a deer through the timber. | have come. ‘* Catch him, Bill, but don’t harm him,” cried “One night they camped here, and I knew Night Hawk. | not of their presence until I returned from fish- nd after the apparition went Bill at full | ing over on the other side of the mill, and saw their camp-fire. ** They left at dawn and did not see me,” ‘It was my brother and myself, for we were here about a year ago, while wild-horse-hunt- ing, and remained one night. ‘Three years ago we were here also, but it was in the daytime, and curiosity alone brought us to see the old ruin. | ‘It is a desolate place for a woman to dwell, and alone,” “It is a better place to me than where I —_—_- CHAPTER III. LASSOING A PHANTOM. A NT The timber was thick and he could not throw his lariat, so he dropped the coil over his saddle- horn and devoted himself to guiding his mustang in the dangerous chase, for he was threatened each moment with being dashed to death against a tree. Gliding along at a wonderful speed, dodgin here and there, and seeming to know the groum well, the form in white, phantom, or whatever it was, tried hard to throw its pursuer off the track; but, as steadily as a hound upon the trail, | would be were I known to be—but no! no! you Broncho Bill kept his mustang upon the track of | will not ask me to betray my secret, will you, the fugitive, and soon pursued and pursuer dash- | senor? ed into an open space surrounding theold rumed | _ ** You will let me remain here in hiding, and a chapel. I will bless you, will pray for you. There were graves all about, and over them ‘I have a little room in the ruined chapel, leaped the fugitive, and high above them bound- | and there I remain, and I have subsisted on ed the mustang, Broncho Bill now seizing his . what game I shot and fish I caught, for both lariat once more. | are most plentiful.” On fled the white-robed form over the graves | “Do not disturb yourself, senora, for your and toward the ruined chapel, while Broncho | secret is safe, and you are free to remain as Bill came in hot pursuit whirting his lariat, and | long as you please, for, as you hold the fort, as | Night Hawk was following close at his heels. it were, it is for my brother and myself to asl; | few more bounds and the phantom would | your permission to stay here,” said Nicht Hawk. reach the chapel. , ‘* Ah, senor, I have no home, no friends, and But suddenly the lariat left the hand of gladly would I have you and your friends re- Broncho Bill, and a_ wild shriek rung out | main, if you only will not betray me.” through the woods, and the coil settled over the “You may quiet your fears upon that score.” flying form. ‘And you will not ask me who I am, or why Broncho Bill’s mustang stopped short, but the | I am here?” young plainsman did not let go the lariat end, “Certainly not, for I have no right to pry and thus broke the shock, though the fugitive | jnto your secret,” was cnecked quite suddenly. ‘* And your brother?” Throwing himself from his horse as he dashed “ Ho is here, so you can ask for yourself, and onward, while Broncho Bill held the fugitive | receive his answer as you have mine,” with his lasso, Night Hawk rushed forward and} Just then Broncho rasped the weird form in a grip that could not | g Jaugh: e shaken off, “You frightened Scraps about half out of his ** Oh, spare me, Senor!” : Wits, lady, and I doubt if Red Wolf caniea The suppheation came in a woman's volce, | him; but Ieehave, brought® thé pack -horses, and instantly Night Hawk released his Brasp, rge, sg we can soon have supper.” while he said earnestly: » im ‘his lady, Will, has some reason for hiding “Pardon me, madam! I di@ pot suspect [) away here, and she wishes your promise, as she would find a woman here.” | | has mine, not to betray her presence to any one, ‘Tam a woman, and one who has suffered ' or to seek to solve the mystery of her being in much, Are you Americanos?” and the woman | biding in this desolate place?” spoke with a marked accent. ‘Certainly she shall have it; but she must a a - Oe -C Ca SS — ~~ oe ill rode y 1 said with is rifle, Pregaes: Carin the crack an Indian fell dead from his yonder, I kin fix your wound all right, sab.” 3 have cruel foes to drive her to hiding here alone,” answered Brencbo Bill. “And those with you will not betray me?” asked the woman. Oh, no, and if we can ever find Scraps, our negro servant and pard, you will find him a good fellow, I assure you—ah! there they come now, for there are two horses approaching,” and as Broncho Bill spoke, Red Woit came out of the timber, followed by Scraps, who ap proached most cautiously, greatly surprised to discover that the ‘‘ ghost” had been caught, and was standing so quietly near Night Hawk and Broncho Bill, CHAPTER IV. THE LIFE CHASE, SomE two years previous to the opening of this story, two men were flying for their lives across the Texas prairie, One was a while man, the other a negro. They were well mounted and armed, and yet their horses were fagged under the terrific pace they had been held at for several hours, Behind them came a party of Comanches rid- ing in hot pursuit, and lashing their horses hard to overtake the fuyitives. When they would gain a little and come too close, so that their arrows fl unpleasantly near, the fugitives would halt, raise their rifles and fire, and almost immediately, a mustang or a warrior would go down, and the red-skins would drop back out of the range of the deadly rifles, But they would once more push on, feeling that they wera driving the already tired horses \ of the fugitives at a pace they could not long q keep up, and, once brought to bay, they could end the matter to suit themselves, Tie white man was young, scarcely over twenty-five years, and his face was refined, handsome, and intelligent, though darkly bronzed by prairie winds and sunshine. The negro was the one whom the reader after- ward met as the companion of Night Hawk and Broncho Bill Powell. ’ ‘‘ Tt looks bad for us, Scraps,” said the young man, as his horse stumbled badly with fatigue. “Yes, Mars’ Henry, it do look bad, sah; but we hain’t dead yit.” ‘No, Scraps, but somehow I have a forebod- ing of evil, as ill fortune has dogged my steps sadly of late years.” ‘“It hab, for a fact, Mars’ Henry; but don’t ‘ say die, sah, for I guess all will come round right.” ‘You are a plucky fellow, Scraps, to extract hope out of the present situation; but candidly old fellow I don’t care much if I do go, only i am sorry i brought you here to perish on these rairies.” ‘‘T hain’t perished yit, sah, and nuther has you, Mars’ Henry. “Pact is, sah, you has been mighty blue ever since dat New York lady done broke off her én- \ gagement ter marry yer, sah, and when yer went home from de army and found old massa and missus dead, yer did git sorrerful indeed, and it were me, sah, advised yer ter sell out ther old home and come ter Texas and start a ranch, so don’t blame yerself fer coming, sah, but me, and you has a nice little ranch, and ef | them Injuns will jist let us git back ag’in, why 7 thar won’t be no trouble, sab.” ** Well, Scraps, you are true as steel, and I i hope we can pull through; but, somehow, I have & presentiment of evil. | ‘But if I do get killed, and you escape, you & will find among my Papers in the cabin, my 4 will, which leaves the little I have to you.” " Lordy, Mars’ Henry, don’t talk so, sah.” ‘+? mean jt, Scraps. i have no near kind I care for, and you have been my friend, even | when you were my father’s slave on the old Ala- + bama plantation, and what I have you shall have, for it is but littl— Ah!” The man reeled in his s.ddle, and Scraps ut- tered a cry as he saw an arrow bury itself in the back of bis master, 1 Seeing that his master still ce his saddle, the negro, with a revengeful light flashing in bis eyes, drew his horse to a standstill and level- pony, and Scraps was preparing to fire again, when suddenly a wild cheer came to his ears, and ever arise in the prairie rode a squad of cavalry, a dozen in number, The Indians turned in flight, carrying off their dead: with them, and the cavalrymen pressed on “4 pursuit, five not to see the wounded white man and the negro. . ‘Mars’ Henry, you kin git to the timber