Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 609 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

Dust, his age could not have been short of five- and fifty years. The six years immediately following his de- parture from tbe Province of Sonora had been — among the most desperate of the criminal class of the Old World. He had been a thug in Paris, a brigand in Italy, Returning to Ameri- ca at the age of twenty-five, with the spolis of hisoutlawry, he passed asa gentleman of means, traveled extensively, and finally settled down to the quiet life of a planter, purchasing a large plantation not far from the then thriving little Kentucky town of Maysville. But the role of gentleman farmer did not sit | well with him; the evil in bis nature cropped out, and at the end of five years be was again an avowed outlaw, and a penniless fugitive. Then from the depths of penury be again rose at a bound, to become one of the most merciless of the card-sharps common to the Mississippi at that time. Handsome, of polished exterior, it was years before an unsavory notoriety com- pelled him to abandon that field. Back to his old haunt in Sonora he went, when finally forced to abandon the river, and thence into Arizona, where he gathered about ; him as desperate a band of road-agents as had ever cursed the Territory, making his head- uarters in the wildest region of the Gadsden urchase. A few years later found him in Utah, a dig- nitary high in the Mormon bierarchy—crafty, unscrupulous as ever, prominent as a politician among the Latter Day Saints, and in thorougi: unisor. with their wicked plotting toward the attainment of political power. | So much as to the real character of this bired assassin. His mission in Yellow Dust, under an pees personality, will be developed in due — ime. When Little Lightning left the shadow of the jail, he was followed at a safe distance by eene, until lost to sight in the St, George Hotel. For a moment the desperado was startled by this move on the part of the young ranger. “Can it be that he intends staying right here and standing by his pard?” he asked himself, shrinking back into the shadows on the opposite side of the street. {Such a move would mate- rially alter our plans! ‘‘]ll remain right here until the gentleman reappears, and thus solve the riddle.” And the desperado was as good as his word. Patiently be awaited the reappearance of Little Lightning, then again set forward on his trail, keeping the youth just within range of his keen, ferrety black eyes. ‘“‘That settles you, my fine fellow!” the cun- ning outlaw muttered, turning aside from the trail and seeking a narrow footpath. ‘ This short-cut will enable me to intercept you, and put an artistic finish to my job!” Once under cover of the undergrowth, Keene struck out at a sharp, loping pace, which not only carried him over the ground with great rapidity, but at the same time demonstrated a thorough knowledge of the hidden path. At a distance of little more than a half-mile, ae, Career nen again entered the Rocky Bar il. **So much for that fortunate loop in the road!” he muttered, breathing hard from his re- cent exertions. ‘‘ Now, to dig a pit for the un- wary gamecock |” Listening intently to assure himself that Little Lightning was not yet approaching, the des- perado cast about him for a suitable covert. Within ten paces, growing close up to the trail, was a clump of bushes which seemed to offer the shelter desired, and without loss of time he crouched behind it, drawing and exam- ining his revolver. ‘‘ Now let him come,” Keene muttered, be- tween his clinched teeth, as the faint clicking of the cylinder ceased. ‘‘One shot, and I am rid of one of the most poworful allies Orndare could have!” Scarcely had the last words been uttered when a slight sound a short distance up the trail warned the desperado that his victim was ap- proaching, and a moment later Little Lightning was fairly in the trap, Breathing hard, yet cool and collected, as merciless as a tiger, Old Man Keene deliberate- ly raised his weapon to a level and fired. So sure was the assassin of his aim—of the defenseless condition of Little Lightning—that he never paused to note the effect of his shot, bus sprung to his feet and out into the trail. Little Lightning, with a wild cry, had fallen upon his back, net a half-dozen paces from the ambush, In less than the time it takes to tell it, Keene was bending over bim. ope Bolly Darrit, the Veteran Detective, 7 ‘* He’s done for,” coolly uttered the assassin, peering with strangely glowing eyes into the white, upturned face of the youth. get rid of the body.” And putting away his revolver, after a cau- tious glance up and down the trail, Keene put forth his hand to seize the ranger’s shoulders, Then it was that a terrified yell burst from the desperado’s lips. A yair of strong hands bad grasped his wrists, and the next instant he was flung vio- lently upon his back, ‘‘Lie there, you dog!” enunciated Little Lightning, in menacingstrains. ‘“ You're caught in a trap of your own making! ‘‘You calculated to ‘go’ for me in villainous style, and had I not been up to your dodge you would bave succeeded, too! ‘‘Dastard! Devil! Who set up this job? Speak, or I’ll choke the life out of you!” The young ranger’s voice was hoarse with an- ger. eftly stripping away Keene’s weapons, he clutched him by the throat. ‘“‘ Speak—out with it!” he exclaimed, his black eyes lighting up with a terrible glow. ‘It is your only chance, and a slim one at that!” ‘‘ Hands off my throat, then!” sputtered the baffled assassin. ‘‘Ef et’s my life, or peach, ye kin gamble on’t I'll live, every time! ‘“‘Thar! My humble thanks, boss! Ef them soar fingers ov yourn didn’t fit so snug es a hal- r— | | i he thought. ‘‘ At any rate, it leads toward my yards, and so I shall follow. it fora time, at ** Now, to | least.” An exceedingly short time it proved. Within five minutes the young ranger was startled by the shrill whinnying of a horse a short distance ahead. ‘¢That calls for an abandonment of this route,” he muttered, with a species of grim humor, * A detour is preferable to an argument as to right of way.” -entering the thicket, he glided along with the stealth of ared-skin. Two, three hundred yards were passed, and then he came upon @ small open space, near the center of which loom- ed up the outlines of a substantial cabin. At the same moment, a door was flung open, shooting a broad belt of light across the clearing and revealing two men upon the threshold. But the object upon which the eyes of Little Lightning at once became fixed was the petite, dark-robed figure in the doorway—the figure of a young and beautiful girl. Just an instaat of absolute silence—tben % piercing scream rung out, and uttering hoarse cries of anger, the two men pushed boldly into the cabin! Through the veins of Little Lightning the blood surged holly. His bands clinched, his face flushed, then paled, and into his eyes leaped a light of direst ire. Toward the cabin he bhur- | ried, with swift, noiseless strides, to become @& ‘Whose game was it?” coldly interrupted | factor in the stirring scene! Little Lightoing, placing the muzzle of a six- | shooter against Keene’s temple. ‘‘ Cut it short, too, for I don’t intend to stop long with you, Understand?” , ‘* Bs ef 1 c’u’dn’t, boss! You bet! I hop right | CHAPTER VIII. A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. RACHEL CARSON was undoubtedly a girl of onto yer meaniu’, an’—I’ll tell ye ther straight | courage, et the evil, gloating faces of Rico Rube truth, with never a frill! “Ye ’members Ole Man Keene, I reckon? ' } Wal, I’m thet ornery pilgrim—bet yer life! Es | fer ther game, et’s mine, from A ter Izzard!” ** Don’t lie!” ‘‘ Bt’s gospel, boss! Ef ’tain’t, may my eyes see stars through ther back ov my head!” pro- | tested the ruffian, with a sort of lugubrious solemnity. ‘‘T war after yer roll, an’ as one plan w’u’dn’t work, I bed to tackle another. That’s ther long an’ short ov et, an’ ef- ye roosted on me till mornin” “Get\ up!” tersely interrupted Little Light- ning, in disgust, as he sprung to his feet. ** And don’t you attempt any of your tricks. I’ve put fresh bullets in my guns, and Pll war- rant them to go straight! “Tm going to turn you loose, but I'll keep your weapons, Go! and remember tbat if our trails cross again I shall exact full satisfaction for this night’s work!” ‘¢Thankee, boss! Ef—” “Off with you, at a double-quick !” Old Man Keene obeyed, jJaying bis course to- ward Yellow Dust. The raager’s voice’ was in itself a warning. Little Lightning waited only until the des- rado had disappeared, then turned and with ong strides hastened down the trail. ‘‘Tt was Old Man Keene, sure enough,” he mused. ‘‘ The grim old scoundrel! He must have followed me to the outskirts of the camp, and then, by means of a by-path, forged ahead, ‘“‘ At any rate, he played his game fairly well, naught but bis enforced baste marring it, Had not his hard breathing warned me just in the nick of time, bis bullet would have gone straight ome. ‘¢ But, that he, and he alone, was the prime mover in the assault, is altogether too flimsy to be readily believed. He is no more nor less than a tool for the Mormon cohort infesting Yellow Dust.” : And thus, pondering the varied events of the night, Little Lightning hastened along until fully five miles from the silver-camp, Then he abruptly left the trail, entering the wooded hills to the right. ‘‘ Tt will save two miles of the distance, and time is precious,” he muttered, For upwards of half an hour he _ pushed steadily onward, almost due southwest. The way was rough and toilsome—utterly impossible in the dense gloom to one not an adept in woodcraft. Pushing through a heavy growth of young timber, the ranger at length reached the foot of a wide bluff, at the base of whica there seemed to be a beaten path. A moment’s examination proved that such was indeed the case, and, with no small degree of satisfaction, yet with every sense alert, Little Lightning hurried along the narrow trail. ‘* It may lead to the rendezous of some outlaw gang, or simply the quarters of a hermit-miner,” Py ~~". see | | | and Peet Brown appearing atsuch a time and un- der such conditions, almost stilled the beating of her stanch beart and forced from her lips a frightened cry. What did this unseasonable visit of the two roughs portend? Had they waylaid Lewis Carson, ber father? The ruse adopted to gain admittance to the cabin showed that they were certamwly aware of his absence, Witb these thoughts flitting swiftly through her brain, Rachel staggered back a pace, clutch- ing at the door as if to close it. “Drop thet,” growled Rico Rube, scowling darkly. ‘ Ef ye try eny sich game es thet, ye’ll wish ye hedn’t.” Even as he spoke,the desperado crowded across the threshold, closely followed by Brown, who promptly closed and fastened the door, Faint with terror to the verge of swooning, Rachel dropped limply into a chair, burying her face in her bands. ‘‘ Come, now, my lady, thet won’t do nuther!” pursued Rube, gruffly, his rough hand settling on her shoulder. ‘‘No weepin’, no hysteericks, lease! We're hyar on bizness, we aire! ‘‘ Whar’s ther old man?” Her eyes flushing with indignation, Rachel rose, flinging aside her tormentor’s hand, and Rube realized that he had adopted the wrong tactics. “Oain’t ye answer?” he growled, after a mo- ment’s silence. “Tf you mean my father, I do not know,” the girl replied, steadily meeting his dark gaze. ‘But you may be quite sure that you will be made to suffer for this intrusion, ~ you have any business here, state it, and one. he two desperadoes exchanged a look, then joined in an outburst of coarse laughter. ‘Ye need hev no alarm, gal,” averred Rube, throwing aside his hat and coolly settling into the depths of an easy-chair. ‘‘ We don’t intend ter do ye a mite ov harm. No, no!—thet ain’t our game a’tall! Hey, Peet?” ‘“Nary time,” promptly corroborated that ruffian, following his leader’s example and be- stowing himself in a comfortable chair. “‘We w’u’dn’t harm a bair ov yer re head, gal, fer ther biggest streak ov silver in these hyar hills! “We look like toughs, but we’re puffec’ gen- ‘lemen, jest ther same; an’ I reckon ef yer pap was hyar, he'd mighty soon tell ye we war reg’lar ole pards ov bis’n!” %Thet’s wot!” Rube cried, chuckling at his pard’s conceit. ‘*‘We're three ole pards, we aire, an’ I bet ef Lew war hyar he’d treat us right royally, too! ‘An’ thet ‘minds me, my lady, thet I’m nigh starved. S’pose ye rustle ‘round an’ set out a a a matter what, so long es thar’s plenty ov et. Rachel simply nodded. Terror had given way to indignation, and tin J ' e eh . CDOOKS.CO!l -books.co