Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 64 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

to find the scamp. I'll see that he never does you another favor, and the sooner the better.” He moved to the door as he spoke. ‘You may find cose ay with all your author- ity you dare not 2 om ,” flashed the girl. ‘Dare not? ere is the Indian whom I dare not strike? Why, girl, I would not stop ee of War-Bow himself, and I know it is not “Tt is not his!” Kstil said. ‘‘ Find its owner if you can!” ‘Iwill! But what will you dobefore I carry out my plans against your mother—not against irl, for it is she 1 hate? = t, what are those plans?” ‘Now, think for a moment what would strike her deepest. Your mother loves you; there is one thing which would kill her quicker than the news of your death.” With a wild cry Estil started toward the man. “*That event shall never happen!” she cried, holding the flashing knife between them. ‘It would kill my mother. Do not attempt to eros out such a plan as that.” “So you have guessed it. Why, it would make you queen of the Snakes. Queen Estil! think how that would sound! But, what will you do to oppose it? Now, throw a glamour of romance upon your situation, and say that sooner than become my wife you’d bury that red-notched knife in your heart.” **No sir!” cried the girl. ‘ Suicide is coward- ly! There is another heart that may feel the point of this knife. Do not provoke me.” ‘Tt is my heart?’ ‘Tt is Aaa He looked at the defiant girl for a moment and then with some words which she could no understand, he sprung from the lodge and the falling curtains |:id him from her sight. It was dark when Leon Martevelde found himself once again upon the street, if street the way that ran between the long row of Indian wigwams could be called. Night had followed the twilight and a few flitting figures could be seen. The trail bandit did not look behind him as he hurried away, consequently he did not see the two statue-like figures which stood on either side of ie is hen Pa 2 f — stalwart In- dian guards, an en their itions un- known to him. ya ‘*To find the man who gave her the knife, that’s my first duty,” muttered Oregon Leon. ‘‘War-Bow is not likely to return for several days, and I am the king now. By heaven! some shall feel my authority, too.” Several hours later the ex-agent entered his own lodge and lighted a candle, a small portion of the plunder taken from some hapless train. His face wore a puzzled expression; it was evident that his hunt for the owner of the buck- horn handle knife had proved fruitless, “Tf I did not find him I did one good thing,” he said aloud. ‘‘ There'll be a dead white man in this village before daylight. Luke Whittles, I’ve a terrible way of paying my debts.” ‘““Oh, I'll cancel them now!” The harsh and sudden voice made Oregon Leon start back and seize the revolver which he had taken from his belt a few short moments before. Luke Whittles held a heavy teamster’s whip in his hand. ‘“Yes, P’ll cancel ’em afore I go!” he cried, fien y raising the murderous whip, intent upon beating his enemy down with the butt. Can’t pertect me, eh? Well, I’m not goin’ to ask ye!” It was in vain that Oregon Leon tried to ward off the whip, and use his pistol. Down came the heavy stock, knocking the pistol to the further side of the lodge, and then two terrible blows, dealt in startling succession, sent the bandit reeling backward, bloody, and, perhaps, dead. ‘‘T promised to be mean to ye afore mornin’ !” grated Whittles, looking for a moment at his work. ‘ Now [ll finish my work.” He took the revolver which had fallen from Martevilde’s hand and thrust it into his belt be- side one already there, and flung the whip across the body of his victim. ; . Then he extinguished the light and went out. ‘‘ A new way to settle troublesome accounts!” he said to himself, with a light but brutish chuckle. He moved away in the direction of Estil’s —— with a cocked revolver in his right The sky was studded with stars, and the night was clear. Luke stopped suddenly and put his ear to the —_ oo! = « Dandy Jack. Nothin’ comin’!” he muttered, as he rose. ‘‘Them dogs keep an infarnal racket up down by the hosses,” To the right, and seemingly just beyond the confines of the village, a lot of Indian dogs were making the night hideous. As Luke Whittles heard them he gritted his teeth in anger. ‘A Piute among the animiles, mebbe,” he muttered. A Piute? No! If Luke had known the truth the dogs might have interested him more than they did. CHAPTER VIII. THE FATAL THROW. ‘* WHITE boy watch here!” The speaker was Sun-Dance the Tlamath, and as he uttered the last word he thrust the leathern bridle of his horse into Dandy Jack’s hand. ‘‘T’d like to go along!” said the boy, taking the bridle reluctantly, and giving the red-skin a look full of earnest desire, but Sun-Dance shook his head. ‘One better than two, sometimes!” he said. ‘Jack watch the horses, an’ bymby Sun- Dance come back with Stolen Flower.” ‘*Be very careful,” admonished the boy. ‘“* We made a good deal of racket among the horses, and Leon is in the village. Very careful, In- dian;-we’ve got our heads in the lion’s mouth, and if the jaws close, it is good-by!” ‘*Sun-Dance been here before,” and the Tla- math gliding away, left the boy on the river- bank, and not far from the edge of the Snake age. He held in his hand the reins belonging to three = dann Malay of which had been adroitly stolen from the Indian corral. It was the presence of the pair which had ir- ritated the dogs, but the theft would not be be- trayed. The only Indian lured to the place by the noise had died without a shriek with the hatchet of the Tlamath in his brain. Dandy Jack’s proposition to rescue Estil from the midst of the Snake village, a deed of daring scarcely without a parallel, found an eager lis- tener in Sun-Dance, whose sympathies had been enlisted in the cause. The young chief was an inveterate enemy of the Snakes, hating them with all the hatred of the savage. He had been a thorn in the nation’s side, had time and again stampeded their horses from the very suburbs of their habitation, and butchered their sleeping warriors in the night. As the red bandit of the plains, Sun-Dance was a demon, feared almost as much as he was hated by his foes. It had been with difficulty that he restrained his hands from stampeding the restless horses when he selected two from the herd. The thought of Estil to be rescued that night, alone had prevented the panic. ‘Here I am the companion of an Indian,” murmured Dandy Jack, finding himself alone beneath the myriads of stars that glittered bril- liantly above. ‘‘ We’re in the greatest peril and getting our hands in deeper and deeper all the time. Thus far I’ve found Sun-Dance a brave, good-natured fellow; but, mercy, how his eyes flash whenever I talk about Oregon Leon and the Snakes. If they knew he was here now, right in their villa rest times Se a le. The figure of the Indian eine gerbe while Dandy Jack thus communed with himself, and he grew silent and listened. e occasional bark of an Indian dog was the ‘| other, and the single " there’d be one of the big- | a poco 3 the i 7 — qe - taking revenge, Luke Whittles had entered Oregon Leon’s tent, and struck him down with the heavy handle of his whip. Then eager to carry out the entire plan of his meanness he sought the tent or lodge occupied by Estil. Toward this Sun-Dance also was gliding, each unaware of the other’s presence. Whittles was approaching the lodge from the west, or from behind, while the Tlamath, crawl- ing from the east, was nearing the door. The shadows of the many wigwams, long ones and dark, for they were thrown by the stars, pre- vented the would-be rescuers from seeing each ard, if the dark figure crouched dog-like at the front of the lodge was an Indian, seemed also ignorant of their pre- sence. It would have been ap nt to any one who could kave watched this double craw! from over- head, that Whittles’s movements would bring him to the guard first. He was crawling around the lodge, knife in hand, and hu ping the shadows like an assassin, a with outstretched neck to keep the guard in sight. % The Injun ’pears to be asleep,” he murmur- ed, with satisfaction glittering in his evil eyes. ‘““By George! I’m in luck to-night. [ve finished Leon, for if I didn’t crush his skull with the whip, I don’t know how to strike, an’ here I find a sleepin’ Injun guardin’ the lodge. Luck! luck, Luke Vhittles: a thunderin’ sight more’n you desarve!” Nearer and nearer to the guard he crawled, and at last, when but five feet intervened, he stopped. For a moment he seemed to be studying the position of the careless sentry, and then with a sudden spring he darted upon him. It was at this moment that Sun-Dance be- came aware of the traitor’s presence. Until that time he had flattered himself that the giant was to become his victim. Duke Whittles had not miscalculated the dis- tance, for he alighted squarely upon the guard. There was a sharp, angry growl as the traitor struck fiercely as he came down, and the guard springing up, threw him off. ‘Thunder and guns!” gasped Whittles, as he was hurled back with a force that seemed to break every bone in his body. ‘‘ Not an Injun, but a b’ar! Truer words had never fallen from his lips. The guard of the lodge was an enormous . which, sorely wounded by the long knife, was a omy forward. Luke lost no time in scrambling to his feet, and he quickly drew a revolver. ‘“Shoot ’em? No!” he cried, hesitating. “I don’t want the hull Snake nation down upon me. It’s a b’ar an’ no mistake, an’ if I want the gal I’ve got to meet im with the knife.” For a moment man and bear eyed each other like gladiators in the ring. Luke saw thata giant of the cinnamonspecies faced him; and re- collected that he had caught several aera of the animal in the village during the day. ‘‘l'd ruther face six Snakes!” he grated. ‘‘But the b’ar is between me an’ my object, so Pers arta side id Hi glk e darted aside as he é for the purpose of aiinial, and Bruin turning b alf-way round prepared to meet the threaten- ed attac | only sound that broke the stillness; the horses | were quiet again, for they could not snuff the | odor of the scarlet thief. Sun-Dance moved cautiously into the village, crawling at times likea sneaking wolf, and now rising erect. He was in the midst of his inveterate foes, the sworn enemies of his tribe. The lodges did not when Luke’s left arm flung the fore ‘** Face to face then, hang ye!” cried yb ew and like a thunderbolt he cast his body straigh at the brute. Quick as his attack was, the bear prepared to receive him, and was rising on his hind feet ws aside 'and delivered a murderous blow at the throat. | all his might. This staggered the bear, and before he could recover the traitor dealt two more blows with At the last one the knife went to _ the heart, for the heavy carcass rolled back and stand near each other; there was a space of | twenty feet between them, and across this the | Tlamath glided with practiced caution. The keen eye of the dog might discover him, or the attention of a warrior seal his doom. The absence of the large war-parties was a fortuitous circumstance; but keen eyes still re- mained in the village; the survivors of the battle by the Conestoga were at home. The anxious glances which Sun-Dance cast over his left shoulder told that he was watching the horizon Leite | light, as the moon, still un- seen, pursued her course through the sky. What was to be accomplished must not be — in the moonlight; it would betray It was while Sun-Dance crept through the village of his foes that the incidents related in the foregoing chapter took place. Intent upon ' | | | fell at the very door of the lodge. “Good Juck yet!” exclaimed Luke as he sprung over the bear. ‘‘Now I'll finish the work.” He was at the wigwam and looked up to see a white face between the curtain and a pair of eyes full of wonderment were fixed upon him. “Ha! my beauty!” he cried, and the next moment he had torn the curtains aside and seized upon the captive. ' ‘‘Never mind, ’m goin’ to take you out o’ this red nest. Yes, yes, ’m Luke Whittles. I’ve got b’ar blood on my face an’ I don’t look like myself.” ‘Luke Whittles, the traitor!” Estil, shutting her eyes to keep out tne Sislon of his abhorred countenance. ‘Yes, the traitor!” he said with “ An’ I wasn’t paid fur doin’ it, either. a sneer. ”