Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 542 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

A. The Canyon Pards. perience of twenty-five years as a vaquero plays | port—perhaps he did, very slightly; but when me false, the object we are seeking 1s even now in yonder chaparral.” **Do you think so?” hastily inquired Duncan, somewhat startled at finding his companion’s views brought him into such propinquity with the mysterious rider, ‘‘And if he is, Pedro, shall we enter? What are your reasons for thinking he’s here?” ‘*PDoubtless just ones, senor. In the first pene though | doubt it, the man may be dead; ut, whether or no, his horse is not, for you, with your oWn eyes, saw him gallop away. What more natural than a horse, if Jeft to him- self (as he undoubtedly was), should head at once for comforts—good feed, cool water and shelter from the sun? A horse will go to such a place; and such a place is this, the only one for miles around.” “You ain’t a fool, Pedro, if you do havea dark skin and a foreign accent; but how do you know there’s water here? I can’t see any.” ‘*T smell the water, senor—or rather the mez- quit, which has a strong odor when soaking.” ‘* Pedro, you are smart.” ‘‘I know it; itis not to my credit, however, beyond observing. Just the cleverness which experience always brings tothe observant. Just as I believe if a man is born godly, with no bad qualities, if he lives religiously all his life, he is no better than a knave, if the latter was born with evil traits. Toa man naturally good. it is no credit to live good; but if he struggles to live better, he is entitled to great credit, and is in reality a better man than tke one who lives religiously because it is his nature to do so.” ‘*'That’s a strange doctrine, Pedro— Hallo! looky yender.” And Duncan hastily pointing toward the sum- mit of the hill, in a loud tone uttered the con- cluding words: ‘* Bu’st every buttonhole in my coat, but thar he is !” Pedro looked up quickly. A dark form, clear- ly outlined against the dark blue of the evening sky, was on the bare an# yellow summit—the figure of a tall, slender man on a chestnut horse —the form of the Rider. As several hours before, the head hung down, and the glazed sombrero flapped over his face in the lazily-floating north breeze. His side was toward them, and his straight black hair strag- gled out from his hat over the brown neck, glistening uncannily. Across the born of the saddle, the dark, lean band still bung, lightly clasping the loose bridle-rein, and his other arm was akimbo. In all respects, he was the same as he had appeared to Duncan. The h and neck of the chestnut horse drooped downward, and one of the hind-legs was drawn up, the tip of the hoof barely touch- ing the ground, His whole attitude was that of a tired animal. Quietly he gazed at the two men below, in the chaparral—steadily, yet cold- ly, as if wholly unconcerned. But he kept his fixed gaze upon them, as if, being wholly at leisure, he had nothing to fix his attention and had allowed it to wander vagrantly on them. Both horse and rider were motionless. How they had come into view upon the sums mit without being discovered in the ascent, wa- a question the cavalleros bel?w could not an- swer, and it mystified them. But there he was, anvhow, and that was sufficient. edro unslung his rifle, a long symmetrical ‘weapon, which he used very skillfully. Duncan raised the hammer of his Kentucky smooth-bore. ‘‘ Are you sure he is the same, Senor Dun- can?’ whispered Pedro, ‘‘The same.” Pedro, casting a searching glance at the cook, was satisfied the form on the summit was the one they were seeking. He spoke, softly: ‘‘Takeaim at his head, Senor Duncan, while I cover his heart. We are both crack shots— can it be possible we will fail to roll him from his saddle?” Duncan, after attempting it once, very much doubted their ability to do it, but said nothing. ‘‘T will count three,” resumed Pedro.; “ one!” Simultaneously the long rifles were raised— their bearers settled themselves in their saddles. sé Two!” Four eyes gleamed over four sights, two of which were covering the drooping head above, while the others were on a dead line with the heart under the dark poncho, ‘* Three!” The rifles cracked as one, They hastily low- ered them and peered through the smoke at the summit. There sat the Rider, motionless in his saddle. Perhaps the chestnut horse pricked up his éars and tossed his head a trifle at the guns’ re- | TEENIE ————————————————————————————————————————————————————— EEE EEE ———————— = the filmy vapor dissipated, bis head and neck | still drooped, and his hind leg remained lazily drawn up, as he still watched the men below. It was a harmless volley. Duncan glanced at Pedro. A.cross the swarthy face gleamed a dark-crimson glow; the blood of the Spaniard was up. Yet his voice was clear and cool as ever, and his features were calm as he quietly said: ‘*Senor, the gun is not my favorite weapon. We will try the riata—we will give him the Jasso.”” As he spoke, from his saddle-horn he took the coil of twisted hide which depended therefrom. Settling its nether end yet more firmly around the pommel, he took the coil in his right hand and slid the running noose. Then he turned to Duncan, who uneasily watched him, every second or so casting a swift glance at the motionless pair on the summit. ‘Senor, are you ready? If so we will go.” Dunean nodded assent. Pedro raised his bridle-rein, At the well-un- derstood signal the black horse started toward the hill in his customary swift walk. Just be- fore them a clump of dexse bushes lay in their path, towering above their heads, To pass, they were forced to go around them, and accord- ingly they made the circuit. or the space of not more than five seconds the summit of the hill was concealed from view—barely five seconds, not more; but when they rounded the chaparral and came into view of the summit, they at once drew their steeds in sharply, and an oath escaped Duncan. The summit was bare! CHAPTER IV. PEDRO TALKS SPANISH. ‘* SENOR, I say! where bas he gone?” excited- ly cried the Spaniard, with a passionate ges- ture. He asked a useless question; the cook knew no more about it than he himself. For a moment only Pedro Felipe remained transfixed with amazement, mingled with vague, superstitious fear; then his Spanish blood boiled, and for the first and last time in his life he made use of an American oath, and drawing a beautiful dagger, he brandished it to- ward the frowning hill. His black eyes, it seemed to Duncan, shot electric sparks from their raven depths; his heavy eyebrows lowered savagely over them; and in a mixed jargon of Spanish and English he roundly declared he would triumph over the strange horseman or ie in the attempt ‘** Dunean,” he cried. ‘‘ you ride to the left, round the hill, ITU ride on and meet you on the other side. Load your gun before you start. a pn you see that lofty tree yonder, on the plain ** Yes; it’s on the other side of the hill, a mile away.” ‘‘Yes. When you get opposite it, halt in some open place and wait for me. We must not let him escape us, Till we meet adios,” The Spaniard’s spur gently grated the black horse’s flanks as the noble animal, with his rider disappeared in the chaparral. Duncan, greatly excited, struck the spur sharply into the roan mustang, which obeyed the command, and at a smart gallop darted away to the left. The cook, 5 ees, the overhanging branches as he swept along, abandoned himself to specu- lation in regard to the mysterious horseman. What was, he demanded, who was, where was this extraordinary rambler—this unconquer- able shadow that baunted him, and whom it was imposs'ble to slay? At the word “slay ” he immediately dived into his logic, and, as usual with such divers, came out sputtering, with closed eyes. Once had bis bullet struck his skull—he had heard it: twice as many bullets must have entered his body while on the summit, for he was a crack shot, and Pedro rarely missed his aim. Why did he not fall? If he was hfe- less, the law of gravitation would have com- lled that, if he had not been held to his saddle y invisible means. If he had been alive, he must surely be dead now; if he was dead he was dead, and that settled it; and if he was neither dead nor alive, he was a spirit—a ghost, If he had been alive, he would have fallen from his horse when struck in the head with the first bullet, as he surely was; if he had heen dead, he would not have been on the horse: so he was neither dead nor alive, consequently he was a phantom. So deduced Duncan from his argument. “*T ain’t excited,” (which was untrue), he cried; I ain’t scared,” (which was the truth)— “‘T ain’t drunk or crazy, I’minmy right mind, } And, by thunder, ’ve come to a conc'usion YP] stick to: the man is a ghost,” He increased his gallop to a sharp run as he entered a flowery, beautiful glade of an acre or so inextent. Bordering the glade on the opposite side rose a dense, nearly impenetrable chapar- ral, a dozen feet in hight; and, looking about him for an opportunity to enter, he drew the roustang in slightly, when the animal, without warning, sudienly sheered aside, unseating his unpracticed rider, who, with his rifle, fell heavily to the ground, ‘** Ha! ha! ha! ha!” A fiendish, discordant laugh shrilly arose from the undergrowth in front, and ringing with ma- niacal intonation fora few seconds, died away in a hollow echo round the bill. Duncan sat upright and listened, staringly, until the echo was lost, then rose, and carting to his rifle, grasped and cocked it. ‘‘What the devil was that?’ he muttered. ‘By my uncle, what a horrible noise.” All was still. The mustang, with pricked-up ears, stood braced back, and with tossing head was snorting in alarm, and intently staring at the spot whence the wild laugh proceeded. Doubtless he had seen the utterer, who was even more horrible than his noise. The cook proceeded to the mustang’s side, and looking in the same direction, endeavored to: ierce with his vision the barrier-like chaparral]; but they were too thick and dark—he saw noth- ing. Fie looked over his shoulder uneasily. He was. alone in the glade, AJl around bim was dark chaparral, gloom, and intense stillness; and the last slanting rays of the setting sun bathed his: head in weird and ghastly splendor, The mustang stamped impatiently; he liked not this ghostly glade. The cook called aloud: ‘* Hallo!” No answer. ; ‘‘ Hallo—o! Is there any one in the shapperell that dar’sn’t show his face?” A bare did. First he peeped from the bushes timidly, then, not noticing Duncan, hopped quietly out into the glade. He came from the spot of alarm. Suddenly, seeing the man and horse, the shy animal turned and leaped back into the bushes, and disappeared with a siight rustle. Duncan stared. ‘*By gosh!” he ejaculated, ‘‘’cording to the rabbit, ’m the only one around, For if there was a chap in the bushes he’d have come ont on the keen jump, for that’s the way he did when he see me. By ginger! I don’t understand it; the rabbit’s shy and skeery and has got sharper eyes than me; if there’d been any fellow there he wouldn’t ha’ come out soslow. Gosh! there’s no one there.” As if to further convince him, an owl cose 1 ar from a low bush where he had been concealed, to a small tree close by, where he plumed him- self, after a fretful croak. Could he have been mistaken in the noise—in his excitement had he imagined the notes of the screech-owl to be the laugh of a human being? ; Such would seem to be the case, for if the chaparral had contained a hidden occupant, the suspicious owl would have discovered him and taken flight; and yielding to this latter convic- tion, Duncan blamed himself for being a coward and remounted the mustang. __ Hark! a dull report came to his ears—the dis- charge of firearms a mile or more away in the direction of the tree of rendezvous. He listened for an answering report. There was none, though he waited five min- utes or more. e struck spurs to his mustang, and seeing a slight opening at a little distance, galloped toward it. ‘Pedro shoots,” he muttered, ‘‘ and I ain’t there to help him if he’s in trouble. Oh, what a blasted fool and coward I was to stay there so long! Plying the spur.he dashed away through a natural lane in the chaparral, growing weird and uncanny in the fading twilight. He was nearly to the appointed place of meet- ing, and had emerged into a plain covered with straggling bushes, when he saw a horseman a half-mile away, coming, rapidly toward him, and dodging the scattering bushes, He reined in instantly. Pay : A moment's glance sufficed him in which to recognize the approaching horseman, There was no mistaking the colossal rider, nor the black steed which so gallantly swept along with him, It was Pedro Felipe, riding like the wind to meet bim. “Hallo!” thought Duncan; “ something’s wrong.” And he galloped to meet him. A few seconds and the Spaniard reined in be- corr : « - : : : Cbooks.com ™