Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 544 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

your tune a mite! *“* Not atall, sir. I care not whether the man is here, or in Halifax. He is nothing to me!” ** He is your husband!” ‘No longer! When he deserted me, years azo, he ceased to be anything to me!” * But, ye don’t understand! He is here in search of you, but knows not where you are. If [| was to tell him, that would settle your hash. He’s got a gang of heelers with him, and for him to find you would result in your annihi- Jation. So you see, l’ve got you dead to rights, but, as | don’t want to make you any trouble, I thought as how maybe you'd be willing to pay me a little something fur it—say a couple hun- dred dollars or so!” ‘* Not one dollar, sir. I fear neither you nor Reginald de Brown, I know you are both ruf- fianly wretches, but, what care I for that? I always go armed, and can take care of myself, So, I order you to leave my tent, and never to come here again. If you do, I shall not hesitate to shoot you!” Ob! ye won't, hey?” ‘* No, 1 won’t! and I want you to get out of this tent, at once!” “So I heard you say. But, ye see, when et comes to shutin’ two kin play at that game, I’ve got the drop on you, an’ kin kill you as easy as rollin’ off a log, and don’t ye fergit it; so ye better haul in yer reins, and produce the two hundred dollars. D’ye see?” **I don’t see!” Leonora cried, sternly. ‘* My hand is in my pocket, and clutches a cocked re- volver that is so leveled it covers your heart, recisely. Vll give you just five seconds to eave this tent, or you're a dead man!” Now, be it known, Hicks was an arrant cow- ard, and the stern ring of Leonora’s voice warned him thatit was best to “git,” for his own weapon was not cocked. So he arose. ‘All right,” he said. ‘“‘TIl cave, ’cause et aire ag’in’ my grain to kill a person, much less a woman. But I'll have my revenge for this, see if I don’t. My vengeful brother shall know of this within the hour, and as soon as he knows where you are, I wouldn't give the price of a bullet for your life, So renember what I have told you; I never lie!” Then, turning, te dove under the edge of the canvas, and was gone, An hour later, he stood in the presence of Charles Covington, in that individual’s neatly furnished sitting-room. Covington was seated at a table, engaged in writing, and looked up with a scowl. ‘ Well, what do you want?” he growled. ‘¢T reckon you orter know! I’ve come fer the money for Stella, your wife, ’cordin’ to ’p’int- ment! Am I to get it, or not?” » ‘*Oh! I suppose I might as well settle with her!” the villain replied, surlily. ‘Sit down there "—indicating a chair, at about the center of the room—'' and wait till I finish writing!” Hicks obeyed, a gleam of triumph in his eyes. Ten thousand dollars! Was he really to be given the custody of this handsome sum? If so, how quick then would he leave town, and laugii at the success of his plot! Covington wrote away for several minutes, and then once more looked up. ‘* Well, are you ready to go?” he demanded. ‘Yas, when I git the money!” Hicks replied. ‘All right! then go /” Covington said, witha grim laugh. As he spoke, a section of the floor where Hicks was seated, shot downward, taking the ruffianly schemer out of sight. . He had been trapped! CHAPTER XIII. MURDER, Tre morning following the night of Leonora’s wonderful exhibition upon the veranda of the Sandy Bar Hotel, brought to the people of Sock- dolager two surprises of unusual magnitude. A genuine murder bad never as yet been com- mitted in the camp, but the early risers this morning made the discovery that what, in all probability were two murders, had been com- mitted during the night. In the first instance, the body of the giant chief of the so-styled Executive Committee, was found in the street, stark and stiff in death. The job had been plainly accomplished with a knife, for the throat was pierced. There were no signs of a struggle near where the body was found, which rendered the matter all the more mysterious, The second body found was in the rear of the hotel, and proved to be that of the stranger de- town looking for you, perhaps you will change Deadwood Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidocq. | tective, who had sat upon the piazza during the performance of Mile, Lenora the night before. He had been shot through the temple, and evidently had been dead several hours, It was Vidocq who made this discovery, He had risen early, and was ov his way to the stable to get a horse for a morning gallop when he stumbled over tue corpse, * He was greatly surprised, and, before giving alarm, he knelt down and made an examination of the body. The wound had evidently been inflicted by a forty-four caliber, and death must have been in- stantaneous. The crime could not have been committed for money, for the dead man’s pocketbook and watch : nd chain had been left untouched. Among other things, Vidoeq found something that caused him considerable surprise, and which he concluded to appropriate, It was a warrant issued in San Francisco for the arrest of Reginald de Brown for the murder of one Michael Skeen. Together with the warrant was a photo of the wanted man. “By Jove! this is a find,” Dick muttered, ‘‘and as this poor fellow is dead, I reckon Ill keep the document. I may have occasion to run across this De Brown. Let me see: it was Reginald de Brown who eloped with Sloat’s daughter. Ill show this photograph to the old man and see if he’ll recognize it.” He pocketed the two articles and then gave the alarm, In the mean time the body of the Executive Committee chief bad been found, and when it came to be generally known that two murders had been committed, the greatest excitement prevailed, People gathered in knots in the@saloons and upon the street, and discussed the situation. Who had killed the two men? Here was the :juestion. Had they been slain by different parties or by one and the same assassin? Here was amystery for which there was no solution. No clews could be found leading to an explanation of the strange affair. The mur- derer or murderers had done the bloody work quietly and surely, The bodies were removed to a vacant tent, and gantle hands prepared them for burial. This was all that could be done. Neither had any relatives in the camp. The Executive Committee were especially in- censed over the loss of their leader, and threat- ened dire vengeance on the head of the mur- derer should he be found, As for Videeq, he was not a little puzzled over the sudden ending of his brother detective’s career, ‘The fellow came from ’Frisco!” he mused, as he lounged about the hotel, “‘and was clearly a stranger here. It would not appear that he had been in the town long enough to have made an enemy, and yet only an enemy would have mur- dered him, It could not have been a suicide, for no weapons were found in the vicinity, nor can [ think of any clews. ‘*Let me see. He came to Sockdolager a stranger, but armed with a warrant for the arrest of Reginald de Brown, Does that sig- nify that De Brown is here in camp? If so, it but stands to reason that he is the man who committed at least one of the murders!” He took the photograph from his pocket, and examined it with more minuteness than before, It was the face and shoulders of a man of some thirty-five or thirty-six vears of age, The face was a bold one, and inclined to be hand- some, being destitute of any beard, and lit up by large, pleasant eyes, The hair was eyidently of very light color. ‘It's the face of a man of more than ordinary intelligence,” Vidoecq decided—*‘ of such a_per- son as would be successful in roguery, even though there is little to see that bespeaks a vicious disposition. I wish Sloat was here to see the picture!” But Uncle Si wasn’t, nor had Vidocq seen anything of him since the previous day. He thought nothing strange about it, however, pre- suming the oll Vermonter was at Covington’s house. It was a feverish day in Sockdolager, owing to the excitement over the murders, but gradu- ally the day grew to a close, and the two bodies received a respectable burial, although the coffins were but rough boxes, Just at evening Charles Covington made bis appearance upon the street. He was neatly dressed, and his sweeping heard shone glossily.— He sauntered along leisurely, twirling his cane, and evidently was out for au airing. What struck Vidocg as strange, however, was that Uncle Si was not with him, ‘*) don’t see intu that nohow!” the detective thought, a feeling of anxiety for the first time stealing over lim. “‘I supposed all the time Sloat was at Covington’s, but this don’t look like it. I don’t believe Covington would come for a walk alone, and leave the old man at the house, unless the old fellow is laid out stiff drunk. I must inquire into this.” So when Covington came up the piazza steps, Vidocqg approached him. ‘* Excuse me, sir,” he said, “ but are you Mr. Covington?” ‘‘Lam,” was the reply. ‘* What of it?” “I wished to ask you if my friend, Mr: Sloat, is at your house, sir?” ‘* He is not!” ‘“No} Why, I was almost positive he was. He did not return to the hotel last night, but I felt no auxiety about him. supposing he was stopping over with you, I wonder what can have become of him?” ‘¢Don't know anything about it, sir!’ was the surly answer, ‘‘ If you’re particularly interest- ed in the old chap, better go look for him, You'll probably find him drunk in some saloon!” And the would-be nabob strode on into the hotel, leaving the detective staring after him, im surprise. ‘* Well! well! if that wasn’t rather cheeky, T'll loe my bet!” Vidoeq mused. ‘Short and sour asa pickle. So, that’s the style of a chap you are, hey? Well, upon my word, I don’t see how old Si took a notion to you. You and I wouldn't cotton together worth a cent, l’m a- thinkin’, Mister Covington Cha, ley. ‘* And so old Siain’t over at your house, eh? Where iv thuuder can he be, then? That's what I can’t understand,” : He set forth at once on a tour of inquiry, and visited every rum-bole in the town, not so much because of Covington’s remark as to satisfy his own convictions that Sloat had not been on @ ** tear.” Inquiry at all points brought the same an- swer: ‘ Have not seen anything of such a per~ son!” And s0, finally, nothing was left for Vidocq but to return to the botel, without having suc- ceeded in his + es What had become of the Vermonter, was a great puzzle to him, and one that gave hin.much anxiety. Had the old man, too, fallen the victim of foul play? or had some accident befallen him that had caused his death? Perhaps he had fallen down the sbaft of a mine? But, that was hardly probable, as the mouths to the mines were pretty well guarded, That he had not suddenly left town Vidoeq was well satisfied, for he still held in bis posses- sion, the old man’s pocketbook, now lighter the five hundred dollars paid the woman of mys- tery. The old man was gone, but how, where or when? CHAPTER XIV. . COVINGTON ADVISES. WHEN albeit got back to the hotel, he was both discouraged and out of patience, The hour was rather late, but, late as it was, he sat down on the piazza, lit a cigar, and gave himself up to serious thought. Only two other people, besides himself, were on the piazza; and one of these was Charles Covington. The other was a stout, beavy-set man, black- haired and bewhiskered, ill-expressioned of coun- tenance. He had the physique of a person who might possess prodigious strength, and was dressed in the rough garb of a miner, He and Covington were seated close together and engaged in low conversation, Although Vidocq could see them, he could not catch the least part of their conversation, but several times noticed gestures that gave him to understand they were talking about him. Finally, after full half an hour’s talk, the burly man arose and leaving the piazza, went down the street. _ Soon afterward, Covington arose, and saun- tered over to where Vidocq was seated, ‘‘Well, young man, have you found the old man, yet?” he asked, ‘*T have not!” Vidocq replied. ‘““Haven’t,eh? Rather singular, isn’t it, that he should so suddenly, disappear?” “Very!” Vidocg answered, briefly. ‘Yes! yes! very singular. Suppose you have no idea Eh goed he has gone to?” ‘‘ No, not at present,” Ere : } “4 ie ? : - a * iz ‘$ st )