Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 66 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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2 on his elbow. ‘‘ You’ve got a heart yet, and nearer right than I was, after all. Do you see any signs of a break, ySe “*Tt won’t last half an hour,” replied Jack looking at the sky. ‘‘ You can see fer yerself that it is lightening up to the northward, and we can start soon. Talk to the horses a little; you understand the brutes better than I do.” Ned crept to the side of his trembling horse and began to fondle him, and the animal into his eyes. Ned passed over to the other ani- mal, and by: skillful handling, soon got him ewe ae ee ; | ceased to quake with fear, and the light came | the verge of a ravine so deep that the low pines a grew at the bottom scarcely touched tae edge. ed Clayton started back with that look of horror frozen upon his face. In his wild prairie- life he had often seen men die—had braved death himself; but what was death in the heart of an Indian conflict compared with such a one as this? His strong muscles lost their strength, and he sunk to the earth weak asia child. “Steady! This won’t do, Ned,” said Jack Evans, sternly. ‘‘ Come, be a man.” The words nerved him and he sprung to his over his frigh®, and if they shivered now it was feet and approached the fatal verge and looked not with fear, “They are all right now, and will do an thing we ask of them,” said Ned. ‘It is ge a eects I think.” down. The branches of the ‘trees beneath had been parted by the fall of a heavy body, but had risen again, concealing the earth beneath. “Tm afraid it’s all over, Ned,” said Jack told you that we had got the worst of it,” | Evans. “It is forty feet to the ground, and if $ Jack. the Texan prairies. I’m a rough man, Ned, and have done many a wicked thing, in my time but an innocent little creature like that can fin the way to my heart quicker than any thing else on earth. Do you know why?” ‘* You must tell me, Jack.” | ‘“Tf F understand any thing, it is the trees did not break the fall— Will you go down, or shall 1?” “ph go,” replied Ned, ret: “T’m the best climber, by all odds, and if I need you, Ill =“ out. Give me your lariat.” ack took the dressed rawhide lariat from his saddle and passed it over to Clayton, who join- “T had a little sister, once, with just such | ed it to his own by the knot known as the double hair and eyes. I loved her better than any thing else on earth, and she died. I tell you, Ned, if that little child had lived, Jack Evans i bowline, which could not jam or slip. This done, he fastened one end of the rope about a tree and threw the other over the edge would not be an outlaw now, hunted for his | of the cliff, where it dangled within a few feet scalp. At times I seem to see her face, and | of the “paeowng, Assisted by Jack, the boy swung she’s kept my hand from blood many a time, wish she could do it always.” ‘Shake hands, Jack,” cried the boy. ‘lm proud to have you for a friend, and if we quar- rel again, it won’t be my fault, now that I know you.” ‘**A man don’t dare to let out the good in his heart among that truck yonder,” replied Jack, with a motion of his hand toward the chapar- ral. ‘‘ You know how it is, Ned—they’ll say old Jack Evans is turning baby. I’ve thoughta hundred times I’d shake them and go to the Nor’-west; but I love Texas, and they’ve got all I have in their hands.” ‘“We'll talk about this another time, Jack. Don’t you think we might venture out now?’ “Wait about five minutes, Ned. Here it comes again, and this is the last gust. It’s an awful wind, the norther.” oy Fs The blast swept by, carrying destruction in its path, and then suddenly ceased, and the at- mosphere began to change. They looked to their girths, petted the horses a little, and rung into the saddle, riding slowly out “te | th ad e trail. By good luck the black mustang d through the point of the timber, scatter- ing the bushes in his course, and for this point they headed, and found bits of cloth fluttering upon the mesquit thorns, while a clearly-define trail crossed the prairie toward the south. “ Rorward,” cried Ned, bending forward in, the saddle, and fixing his eyes upon the trail; ** we will save her yet.” CHAPTER II. IN THE TREE-TOP. For half an hour they rode in silence on each side of the trail, which luckily was not crossed by others, and they could keep up a good pace. The face of Ned Clayton wore a somber look, for he feared, at each roll in the prairie, to come upon the mangled form of the girl who had flitted by so strangely, caught in the north- er. Jack Evans said not a word, but his eyes were busy, and as roll after roll of the prairie was crossed, he began to hope. ‘She’s a plucky little darling, anyhow,” he said at last. ‘‘ How she hangs to that - broken mustang!” “Tf she can keep the saddle, there is some hope,” replied Ned, with a sort of sob; “ but the gr is getting awful rough.” The trail turned a little at this point, and headed for a thick growth of mesquit, about a mile in front. Jack paused; a look of wild ter- ror came into his face, and he clutched at the mmel of his saddle for support. The look of y fear upon his face was reflected upon that of his youn ae ; ‘* What is it, Jack?’ he said, in a sort of whis- r pee He heads for a Gulch. If she has gone down there, mortal help is of no avail. But ride—ride, ae gee x oem a Is, They struck in their spurs e very rowe darted ‘erartake and on. The horses seemed to of their spirit, and the mile was over in less than two minutes, both mustangs going at of their e into every nerve. the straining ‘They e bushes, and pulled up on I | himsel over the verge, and went down the lariat, hand over hand with great rapidity, and, reaching the earth unhurt, parted the bushes and saw the mangled form of the black mus- tang lying upon the gnarled roots of the pine trees, crushed into a shapeless mass by the fall. His legs were broken, his neck doubled under- neath his body and the skull crushed to a pom- ace. Exerting his utmost strength, the boy managed to thrust the body aside as he saw no trace of the beautiful girl. Where could she be if not beneath the fallen steed? A close search about the body revealed nothing, and Ned shouted to his companion above: ‘The horse is here but the girl is nowhere to be seen.” As he spoke he glanced upward and saw some- thing white and ghastly among the green leaves of a pine tree, thirty feet above his head. He uttered a cry of dismay. The girl was up the tree, but whether dead or alive he could not tell. Grasping the body of the tree, he ascended rap- _idly and reached the place where the white dress —— — of the girl showed amid the foliage. As he came near he could see that she was senseless, and that there were spots of blood upon her dress. She had fallen upon a strong branch which tended upward, and had been thrown into a fork of the pine in such a way that even though dead it would have been impossible for her to fall. Ned pushed upward in a fever of excitement, fearing that she might fall before he could get to her, but he breathed more freely when he swung himself up to the limb by her side and looked down into the beautiful face. ‘‘T never saw anything half so beautjful,” he murmured. ‘*Oh, Heaven, I hope she is not dead.” She was indeed beautiful—one of those rare creatures in whose face you can read spotless purity of heart. He gently disengaged her from the branches, valeod her head a little, and could feel that she was warm, and placing his a on her wrist decided that the pulse still t ‘* Alive, Jack!” he shouted, cheerfully. ‘‘ Hur- rah! Let us get her up out of this hole.” __ The tree stood close to the edge of the ravine, and Jack —— out the lariat with a pole .so that the could grasp it. Drawing it in quickly, Ned lashed it under the arms of the senseless girl in such a way that it could not slip. rake in the slack above, Jack,” he said. ‘Carefully now; wait till I give the word.” He took the senseless form upon one arm and walked out far as he dared upon a stout limb, holding to one above him for support. Here he held her out until the cord was perpendicular and she could not strike against the wall, and then gave the signal to his friend above, who hauled away and soon had the light form of the girl safe upo. “he level, at the verge of the chasm. The rope was now let down for Ned, and he quickly stood upon solid earth, gazing witha yor ge fondness at the beautiful being met tell. h Jack,” he whispered, you what it is, Jack,” he w “she is worth all the trouble we have had. She was alive when I tookher upand I guess we can her around.” “Get some water,” cried Jack, shortly. Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. _—_—_— ~- n,n ‘‘Don’t stand fifing there, you young cub, un- less you want her to die on our hands.” ‘Put some whisky on her lies and nostrils while I go for the water,” said Ned, snatching the canteen from his saddle. ‘Ill put agirdle round the earth in forty minutes, for her sake.” ‘She és a nice girl,” said Jack, uncorking the canteen and pouring a portion of its contents into his palm. ‘ Away with you.” Ned hurried away while the older man stoop- ed and bathed the pale lips of the fainting girl in the strong spirits. He-had satisfied himself that she still lived. and that no bones were broken, and bent over her fondly, his rough face showing a sympathy hardl 16 be looked for in one of-his class. He was t ing of that sister whom he had lost so long ago—a child kes this—and what he might have been had she v The color began to steal back by imperceptible degrees into the pale cheek of the girl snd she stirred a little just as Ned came back with the canteen of water. ‘* Fill the cup about two-thirds full and give it to me,” he said. ‘She is coming to herself.” Ned obeyed orders and stood waiting anxious- ly, holding the cup, while the ranger bathed the face and neck of the maiden in the pure liquid which the boy had brought. Their perseverance had its reward, for she opened her eyes looking wildly at them. ‘“‘ There, there, little ’un,” said Jack, tenderly ** you are all right now, if you keep up a good heart. Give me the cup, Ned!” He took it from the now trembling hand of the boy and poured in a little of the liquor. This done, he made her drink a little, and in a moment she was able to sit up, supported by the ranger. ‘*That’s right, little un,” said Jack. ‘‘ Never say die while you have good friends on hand, eh? Drink a little more and get strong.”’ She obeyed with touching confidence, but was evidently in a maze of doubt, not knowin where she was. Her eyes pz. ssed from the dar face of Jack to the more youthful and handsome one of Ned Clayton, and a glimpse of remem- brance came to her. ‘*T saw you under the rocks when I passed,” she whispered. ‘‘I can recall little except the fearful storm, and that terrible ride across the prairie, and then I fell, and can remember noth- ing more.” ‘* This youngster was for chasing after you in the ‘norther,’ but he couldn’t go ten steps before he was down,” said Jack, laughing. ‘‘Thank you,” said the girl, softly, ‘‘thank you very much. I know that I should have died but for you. Where did you find me? I know that I fell, that is all.” ‘* Tl tell you as we ride back,” said Jack, bur- riedly, for he saw that Ned was about to show her the fearful danger from which she had been rescued. ‘*' Where did you live, little ‘un?’ ‘‘My name is Lillian Hardin, and my father a a ranch down the river toward Stanley- ville. Jack cast a look of strange meaning at his young companion. ‘Captain Hardin, do you mean?—the Ranger of the Rio Grande?” ‘‘They give my father that name upon the river. Oh, gentlemen—” ‘Hold on,” said Jack. “TI ain’t a gentleman —fur from it. ’'m a regular old Texican ranger hide and hoof, and gentry and myself don’t mix. Well, as my young friend Ned has busi- aa your father, I guess we’d better tod- e ‘Where is my horse?” ‘ Bleeged to leave him,” said Jack, shortly. ‘You'll ride behind me, and my mustang won’t feel your weight no more ’n a feather. Do you feel strong enough to ride now?” She arose at once, but as she still seemed weak, the old ranger caught her in his arms and carried her quickly down the slope, while Ned took up the lariats, untied them, placed them on the horses, and led them through the bushes, They had just reached the edge of the chaparral, when the older ranger paused and held up his hand—a signal which the young man had too often seen not to understand. It meant danger. Ata touch from Ned the horse stopped short and stood silent, while Ned stole gently forward and reached the side of bis com on, who had sunk upon one knee, holding Li in his arms, and was g through the bushes at a group of Comanches who beside their horses o—_ three age a from the cover. were e -pain rgeous im scrapes and feathers, and ce 4 were not leasant neighbors for the small in the ushes. eGom (E| oYoxe) ‘Ss Se a ee Geom