Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 630 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

Am Deadwood Dick Jr. in No-Man’s Land. 9 derstood from Golconda that she occupied a sod house of her own. inquiry soon developed where this was located, and Dick made for it. Perhaps, after all, she had gone to her home, through fear! When Dick arrived at the door of the sod cabin—he rapped, loudly. ‘‘Come in!’ came in faint tones, the interior. Dick pulled the latch string, and entered. Bl Jackson was sitting before the fire, warming his feet. **Who is it?” he demanded, turning his sightless eyes toward the door, “Jt is Bristol,” Dick replied. ‘‘ But, how in the name of heavens do you hap- pen to be here?” ‘‘T came all the way from Santa Fe, on horseback, until I got within a dozen miles of here; then my horse threw me, and took the back trail. I wandered on, and finally, totally exhausted, | sunk down in the snow, to die, expecting no relief. But, just then along came an angel, in the shape of a young woman, who put me on her horse, anc brought me here. She went out awhile ago, and has not returned!” ‘* Do you know who she is?” **T could not see her, but, from what she said of her past, | believe she is my long lost daughter. What have you discovered, since you have been here?” ‘“T have found Nick Bray, in the man Thomas Thornton; I also found your daughter, in the person of the Singing Bird. I also found Waukesha, the Navajo, but he is now dead, and the Singing Bird has been kidnapped, at the instance of Bray. I came here to see if I could find any trace of her.” ‘She has not been here since early to- day. Good God! do you really believe she has fallen into Bray’s power?’ ‘*T don’t know what else to believe.” ‘*What move do you propose to make next?” ‘*] have not determined. I hardly know what todo. If Thornton has got the girl, he will be crafty enough to keep her, and it will take pretty shrewd maneuvering ‘to defeat him, for, mind you, he is noordinary villain. He knows that I am a detective, in your em- ploy, and you can bet he will play his trump cards to defeat me at every point.” ‘* Well, I hope to God you will find her,” Jackson said. ‘‘ Although I cannot see her, she will surely be a great comfort to me in my old age.” ‘*Find her I will, if she is to be found,” Dick replied. ‘‘In the mean time you re- main here and do not show yourself about town. If you do there is liable to be other trouble in the camp. Keep the door locked, and admit no one except four knocks are given on the door. Iwill leave you, now, but will return as soon as I have any news.” Dick took his departure. from CHAPTER XIII. THE ANXIOUS SEARCH. For hours Dick wandered here and there ee the town, yet no tidings of Singing ird. The reward offer of Golconda inspired the whole populace, but not one of the searcbers -had picked up a clew. Singing Bird had effectually disappeared ; so had John Bailey; wherefore the presump- tion that, at the instance of Thornton, Bailey had kidnapped her. The next question was, had she been taken away from Beaver City? If Bailey had kidnapped her for himself, the chances were she had; if for Thornton, most likely not. During his wanderings, Dick ran across Golconda. ** Any news yet?” he asked. ‘‘None. The search, so far, has been fruitless.” ‘‘Are you satisfied in your own mind, that Thornton is the author of her disappear- ance?” ‘*Perfectly. Have you seen him?” “Yes, but I could gain no information. He knew me even in this disguise!” The next day passed, and the next, but, although the searchers were many, no trace of either John Bailey or Singing Bird could be obtained. Dick, assisted by Golconda and Jim Oaks, who was now eager to serve his friends, took turns at keepinga strict surveillance upon Thornton’s house and over his movements, put the result was the same—no result at all. On the third day the first clew came, and in this wise: Dick, on passing along the street, espied a letter, which he picked up, and extracting the inclosure from the envelope, it proved to be arude map of Beaver City, of which the following diagram is a fair copy: x Song Bird’s House Chee Se Street... ,...-HOtel....sseussessseee x Thornton’s x The mark to which po name was aftixed at once attracted the detective’s attention. What did it signify? It was a problem worth investigating, Dick carefully studied the map, and in a short time reached what he considered was the place indicated. It proved to be one of the typical dug-outs of the town. Its entrance was guarded by & heavy oaken door, which was locked. Repeatedly Dick rapped, but got no an- swer. He tried to look in the single window, but that was too dirty on the inside for him to see through. ‘‘No go here, that s evideat,” he muttered. ‘ If any one lives here, they either don’t in- tend to open up, or else are not at home.” He then took a look around the neighbor- hood, but no other habitation corresponded with the mark on the map. Finally he started to return to the heart of the town, when he encountered Jim Oaks. ‘*Who lives over there?” and Dick indi- cated the dug-out he bad just visited. ‘*No one now. Hank Hopper did live there, but he’s dead for three months.” Dick then showed him the map, which Oaks studied a moment. ‘‘Tt means Hopper’s place,” he decided, ‘‘end here goes to investigate the hole.” Reaching the dug-out, they rapped again and again, but no answer. ‘‘There’s no one here,’ Oaks decided. ‘* Were you ever in this sumptuous resi- dence?” asked Dick. ‘*No, but I’ve been told it runs back a good ways into the hill. When Hopper was alive, there used to be a counterfeiting gang in Beaver, and this was their headquarters.” “That is enough! We must explore the lace.” ‘Allright. Here goes. All together!” They threw their combined weights against the door, which gave way at once, and the two men tumbled in with it. The place did not differ materially from the ordinary dug-out of Beaver City. The floor was of hewn logs, the walls, in the front-room were of sod. There was a door leading into some inte. Bet place, but this was fastened with a pad- ock,. The front-room was about ten feet square. There was no furniture, but plenty of cobwebs, and dirt or dust lay like a carpet on the log floor. No sooner were their first observations made than both uttered exclamations, for in | the dust were footprints, of three sizes, and evidently had been recently made. The first was that of a heavy pair of stogy boots, about elevens in size; the second that ofa pair of eights, and the third a pair of what was evidently women’s threes, ‘‘THow long ago did you say Hopper died?” queried Dick. ‘Three months, to-morrow. He got into a brawl over cards, and some one gave him a dig in the ribs with a bowie. I had the honor of attending his funeral.” ‘‘Has this place been locked up, ever since?” ‘So far as know.” ‘‘These footprints, then, mean business, As I read them, the big ones indicate Bailey, next size are Thornton's, and the small ones are those of Singing Bird. Don't it leok that way?” ‘Tt surely does.” ‘Then, let’s explore, further. We ma not find the girl, but we may find some clew.” The door leading into the inner apartment was not a strong affair, and they had no dif- ficulty in forcing it open, to see before them a long passage, dark as dark could be. ‘‘This looks as if we were about to enter Hades,” Oaks commented. ‘* This is suggestive of something more,” Dick decided. ‘‘ Fortunately I have match- es, so if we can find anything to serve asa torch, we'll explore.” A brief search disclosed among a lot of rubbish, a greasy can, at which Dick re- joiced. ‘*Good! Kerosene!” he ejaculated. ‘‘ The can is half full, too.” ‘* But, where’s your lamp?” queried Oaks, ‘*We can dispense with that. A piece of dry sod, saturated with the oil, will answer. Find one.” Oaks hurried from the room, and was gone a short time, when he returned with several pieces of sod, which were quite dry. One piece was saturated with the oil, placed on an old shovel, and then ignited, and gave forth a bright light. Dick taking the lead, and Oaks following with the light, the two men eatered the pas- sage, to soon debouch into another room, from whence came a sickening stench, Were they in a charnel-house? CHAPTER XIV PUERTO, AN instant search soon reached the source of the stench—the body of a dog which evi- dently had been dead for months. ** About as I expected!” Oaks said, with a snort of disgust. ‘‘ No Singing Bird here,” ‘So it seems,” Dick replied, disappointed- ly. ‘*But—ha! look here, will you! She’s been here, in this foul den, I’ll swear!” And stooping, he picked up a strip of pink ribbon. ‘‘She wore this, at the tournament!” ‘Yes, I remember it. Sbe had it in her hair!” “Exactly. It was the only ornament she wore. We may find another clew. Look sharp!” And they did, after they had replenished the light. a It was a scrap of paper containing but a single word, and that word written in blood. It was: ‘* Puerto!” ‘Where is Puerto?” Dick asked, quickly. ‘‘Ten miles from here, on the Beaver River!” Oaks answered. ‘‘It is one of Thornton’s places. It used to belong to the Reds!” ‘‘Then, Singing Bird is there, for this phiregraroy is hers I believe. Hasten, Oaks, and hire two good horses. I will foot the bill!” Oaks hastened away, and, in a half-hour’s time returned with two saddled horses, When Oaks returned ‘vith the horses, he looked decidedly serious. Corr IJOORS -COM