Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 70 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

—— ee The meeting between the two cousins was a iar one. Percy made an elaborate bow, as hough saluting a belle upon Chestnut or Broad street. Then he gave her his hand, apologized for his eepeerence, and ng his regret that through an oversight of his, he had brought her into this unfortunate position. Then followed a mutual exchange of experi- ences, the result of which was the conviction upon the part of our heroine that her parents had escaped. ‘IT ain’t so certain about that,” said Percy; ‘“‘T only know that they got away from their house before the Indians reached it, and before they went through me so Se Te cy ‘* But they went in the company of Old Zip, and he has taken them to his cabin in the air, where a thousand Indians can not harm them.” ‘* Does he live in that house stuck on the side of the rocks?’ asked Percy, in amazement. ‘He and his wife spend a good deal of their time there, and if you have seen it, you can un- derstand that it is perfectly inaccessible to an enemy.” - Yon: to any oy for I waved my handker- chief and called till I was hoarse, and it didn’t do any good. When I got off a good ways from the hut, [ looked back and saw a man going up “ t proves they are safe. Oh! how thank- and in her poy at the assurance of her parents’ safety, she actually sprung u from the und and clapped her hands, wit such childish delight that all three of the In- dians looked at her, with a curious, amused ex- pression. ‘“You forget that you are a prisoner,” said Fitzsimmons, with a reproving air, “ and that I am too.” ** Indeed, cousin Percy, I am sorry for you, for this at the best wlll be a dismal visit for you. Have hope now, especially as a brave oung friend of mine is expected out this way engage in a hunt with Old Zip, and the two,” she added, in a lower voice, “I think wi be able to do something for us,” ‘Who is that fellow?’ asked Fitzsimmons, who was so struck with the fascinating person and manner of his cousin, that he felt fearfully jealous at once. ‘Ned Hosmer, from Saint Paul; he spendsa aes deal of time hunting in this part of the tate. ‘“Why, that’s the fellow I heard Old Zip speak of this gginn oH ; ** What did he say?’ asked Helena, with such eagerness, that Percy was quite wrathful. Seems to me, you are confoundedly inter- ested in that chap, Helena.” pense she piead: how can't tip. feeling’ in _ she ; “*how can I he eeling in- rested? at did he say of Ned? ‘That he had gone to Alden to tell you to stay there till the storm was over.” ‘Oh! isn’t that too bad? and we ney pened each other on the way without } owing it!” “By Jove!” muttered Fitzsimmons, ‘ but this Mora Sen I mtg wh ha - but we mustn’t fo : | bad fix,” he added, sense of his danger. doubt not, will bl selves—but what is to become of us?” This mentary conversation was excep- tional in every . In the surprise and emotions of their first meeting, and the subsequent excitement of the lady, occasioned by the news regarding her ts and her lover, both forgot that they were captives in the hands of three of the most bloodthirsty red-skins of oe . dfage Wisoet th ir h rie 7 bags cruelty or ou eir helpless victims. while the latter exchanged these words, these three stood somewhat apart listening to them, as though they understood every wo sai d. ‘We have remarked on the general character of the attire of Percy Fitzsimmons: and of Helena have only to say, that her dress, al- though plain, was such as to make her beauty the more attracting and bewitching. ‘Her dress was of buff linen, such as are common nowadays for traveling-suits. She wore no jewelry, ex- cept a gold watch, chain, and plain ring upon her betrothal r—all presented to her, by her affianced, Ned Hosmer. Her hat was one of those jaunty, saucy con- trivances, that make a homely woman look well, and & handsome one bewilderingly en- chanting. She carried nothing in her hand but her parasol, which was s read, when traveling in the sunlight, and tly 4 when in the woods; Old Zip’s Cabin. and as she stood, with flushed face, talking and listening to her cousin, there are few prettier figures that can be imagined. ercy was smitten to the heart—and was cer- tain he had never encountered any thing half so lovely, while the three Indians stood looking at her, with evil eyes, equally positive in the same opinion. The object of all this admiration—although she ‘‘ knew herself” very well—was unconscious of the excitement she had caused. She could only think of her imperiled, but, as she now believed, saved parents, and of him compared to whom all other men were but as chaff in the balance; but, when her cousin re- minded her of their mutual danger, she awoke to a sense of her situation, and shuddered as she saw the dark, evil eyes of the savages fixed upon her. The shrewd girl concluded it the part of pru- dence not to see these er a as glances of her captors, while, with a thrill of hope, she made sure by a casual movement of her hand, that her revolver was in its place, where she could seize it almost in an instant. As fortune would have it, the party had halted near a fallen tree, upon. which Fitzsim- mons took his seat and invited his cousin to do the same. ‘Will you take charge of my parasol?” she asked, handing it to him, as she accepted the proffered seat, “With all the pleasure in the world,” he re- lied, rising and doffing his hat like a veritable hesterfiel , and little suspecting that the true reason of this request, was that her hands might be free, so as the better to use her pistol should occasion demand. When they had seated themselves thus, two of the Indians threw themselves upon the ground where they were within reach, while the started off in quest of game for supper. The sun had set, and it was already growing dark in the woods, and, although, as has been remarked in another place, there was quite a bright moon, the forest, with its towering trees and dense undergrowth, made the gloom almost like that of midnight. But before it was fairly dark, one of the sav- ages kindled a fire, which, as the night was auite warm, was undoubtedly intended to codk what- ever game might be brought in, ““Are you h , cousin Helena?” asked Percy, in a cautious voice, as he observed these preparations. ‘Well, yes, I feel the need of food,” she re- plied with a laugh. o er you think you can stand it until to-mor- row a boar Le if necessary—but why do you ‘They will offer you meat, won’t they?” ; « 3 SUPPOSE SO; if they don’t I shall ask them or it.” si *' Well, I was going to advise you not to eat _ “Why not? I know they are not very tidy in appearance, but I can forget that at such a time as this.” Fitzsimmons up somewhat nearer his cousin, so as to e sure that no one him, and then ‘said, in a hasty, hurried under- tone: wnt ake, poison the meat !” “What!” sheg | about and facing him, as if unc i ae Nir ad heard aright. “Pm going to poison their meat!” he repea in a sepulchral voice, as if horrified at the so of his Own words. “How can you do that?” “T have a fT of arsenic that I got out of your cellar. su it was put there to poison rats, but I will put it to a nobler use.” Helena turned pale; there was something so dreadful in the plan proposed by her cousin that her soul revolted, “Don’t do it, Percy,” she said, after a mo- ment’s e, “Why not?’ : f “Tt cht w i gat it seems too much like ownright murder. ““T can’t see “it in_that light,” he replied, rather petulantly. “I believe they intend to kill us both, and as they stole my weapons, pA the only way I have of getting even with em. “They have not stolen mine,” she said, signi- ficantly. It was now the turn of Fitzsimmons to look = aes and he asked, in the same sep ne: 2 What weapons bave you got?” ** A seven-barrel nateh Ae, “Ts it loaded?” 9 ‘**Of course—otherwise it would be of no ac- count.” ‘*‘Ain’t that bully! Just slip it around the log, and drop it on the ground; then I'll drop my hat alongside of it, and pick them both up together, and then I'll sit here and sight each of those fellows in turn and pop them over like so many ten-pins; then we’ll get up, arrange our toilet, and take a moonlight promenade to the cabin in the air.” Fitzsimmons was earnest in this proposal, but Helena was in no danger of accepting it. She shook her head decidedly. ‘‘T think, Percy, I can fire a pistol with as much accuracy as you, and possibly with more.” ‘““T don’t doubt that—but then think of the fitness of things: it’s a man’s place to save a woman, not vice versa,” ‘* When fortune has placed the opportunity in his hands.” ‘‘No matter in what shape,” Fitzsimmons hastened to say, ‘‘ which brings us back to the ‘cold poison’ again.” But the maiden shook her head. ‘It seems to me like a crime to do any thing in such cold blood as that.” ‘‘And how do you propose to handle your pistol?’ ‘** Not to use it, unless violence is offered, and then I shall not fire until after I have warned them.” ‘Too chivalrous altogether; but, here comes a haunch of something or other.” ‘‘It is a quarter of a yt said Helena, as the Indian brought it up by the bright light of the camp-fire; ‘‘I have no doubt it bas been taken from our own flock.” “Which makes the crime all the greater; they are going to prepare supper sure enough.” Such was the case, and little time was wasted by the Sioux. With their s hunting-knives it required but a few minutes for them to dress the meat, which was skewered on pieces of green wood, and then turned over the while it rapa, Visine Percy Fitzsimmons was filled with a stern re- solve, for he believed that the critical time was at hand. Without any hint to his cousin of his purpose, he rose from the tree, and walked to where the squatting Sioux was toasting his face, almost as much as the meat, and remarked, in the bland- est of voices: ‘It will give me great pleasure, my dear fel- low, to relieve you at what I judge to be a task not absolutely from embarrassing accom- paniments.” While it can not be said that the red-skin un- derstood this magnificent jumble of words, he “bow gained an idea of the meaning of the prof- er,and he submitted the superintendence to the white man, grunting out: “Take care—much burn—so go—much t’ink.” “That’s the opinion I have always exp = replied Percy, as he perched himself alongside oe blazing sapere, Mem nene his first essay in e As he did so, he cast a furtive glance toward Helena, upon whose face the firelight shone full and fair. Her looks showed that she divined his pur- pose, and she shook her head asa warning for im not to attempt a scheme that seemed to her “Ibis a distinguishing trait of the Fitesim is a distinguishi t of the - mons family, from Richard eerie ag down to the present generation, that they always stuck toa t , when they undertook it, unless they concluded it more prudent to give it up, which I don’t think gocenl poy: circumstances, oan thing ing must go or something shall be e. When Fitzsimmons came to reflect upon the gravity of the thing he had undertaken, involv- ing as it did the lives of the three ns, itcan scarcely be won that he felt somewhat “shaky,” and wished the “ confounded thing” was over. . But eae? as was ane business = whey none the less resolved upon undertaking it an carrying it through, if such athing were within the range of human bility. The difficulty was to get the whitish powder epoe the meat, without attracting the notice of e Sioux, who are always icious, but a cool head. anil Meaty hand wane ail ict’ cas cones: sary. , ' In changing the stick from one palm to an- other, it was comparatively easy to flirt a little of the deadly mineral upon the cooking meat. This could be repeated several times, when there ought to be enough “death” in the food to lay out a dozen men. Grasping the stick with his left hand, Percy Ebooks com (E(0)