Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 708 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

“b Light-heart Lute had grown, to follow without losing his real meaning. He gave his name as Adam Elton, and his lace of residence as being on or near the left baok of tbe little river called Little Roarer. It was a poor little place, such as one man might raise in a few days, but it was home to him, for there his darling—his only child, a daughter named Grace—had dwelt with him for nearly two years, This much the wounded man said, before a spell of weakness caused him to break off for the time being. Light-heart Lute said little, though his sur- eg was great enough. He knew that Little oarer River was not far distant, but he knew, too, that it ran through the wildest part of that country, where even a strong, rugged man would find it a sore trial to live. What, then, must it be for a little girl? The storm without was increasing in severity, the rain falling in heavy sheets, the thunder crashing, the lightning flashing with blinding brilliancy at short intervals, Remembering poor Lemuel, Lute stole out of the cave, and waiting for another flash, caught sight of his follower crouching under the shelv- ing rocks, sheltered from the wet, his arms en- circling bis doubled-up knees, his face buried in the hollow thus formed, Whether sleeping, or merely hiding from the lightning, Light-heart Lute could only surmise, but content with knowing Lemue! was in com- arative comfort, he crept back without hailing im, returning to the side of his patient in hopes of gaining a little more definite information. This he did, thanks to the stimulating brandy, and to his adroit questioning, though there were many minor points which he was obliged to leave untouched upon, lest the end should come before those more essential were cleared up. Adam Elton said enough to givea fair idea of what had led him to locate in that wild, deso- late region. Financial misfortunes had driven him toward the setting sun, and when he had found at least a portion of that which had brought him, like s0 many others, to the mining country, lone- liness and paternal love combined to work the rest—he brought his daughter ‘‘ home.” ‘She made it home—the only home I’ve known since her r mother left us!” sighed Elton, his lids closing once more. ‘Poor child, I'd say!” mentally amended Luther; but that was no time for reading a homily on selfishness, and he touched on a dif- ferent point. ** Who did you up, Elton? How many were in the gang? And what did they hope to gain— dust only?” ‘“T don’t—I’m not sure, but—oh! ’twascruel!” with a brief outburst of despairing indignation, *‘He never gave me warniog! Never gave me the ghost of ashow! Just butchered me—like a 0 dog!” . & Who did it, pardnerf” persisted Larrimer, ‘‘T’ll pay bim back in full, if you’Jl just set me on his track, Who did it?” ‘I don’t—I never saw—’twas all like a night- mare!” , Elton added other words, but his voice had own too husky and indistinct for even those een ears to pick out the meaning. And once more Larrimer forced the injured man to sip a few drops of brandy. ‘‘Try to brace up, peer and while you’re trying, I’ll do the heft of the talking. Now, do you know the man who downed you? Nodif you do, shake if you don’t.” A feeble shake of the head came in response, Adam Elton did not know for certain just who had attempted his death. ‘‘Why did he do it? Had you any large am%unt of money on your person?” ‘‘Some—few hundred. But—the secret— bonanza!” Light-heart Lute gave a start at those words, A sacret bonanzi! Did Elton realize what he was saying, or was this but one of those wild, vague fancies which so frequently haunt the last minutes of aman who comes tohis death-bed through violence, ‘‘ No—I mean it!” said Elton, speaking with greater distinctness than before, rallying once again, thanks to the brandy. ‘I found it—be- fore bringing Grace. I dared not be away so long—to visit ber. And she alone, besides me, knows where —the place is,” Light-heart Lute gave a little shiver at this, for his thoughts flashed away toward the “‘ lit- tle child.” She knew of this dangerous secret, and—had the murderer or murderers paid her a too “God above! you don’t think—you can’t Light-heart Lute’s Legacy. — think they'll barm my poor child?’ gasped Elton, seeming to read that dread fear in the kindly face before him. ‘No, no, of course not, dear man!” soothingly assured Larrimer, gently lowering that head. ‘‘How could they? If only you and Grace know of the bonanza, how could any other per- son catch a hint that way?” ‘‘ He said—what did I hear him say when—or, was it a dream?” ‘* A dream, of course, dear sir! Now—” ‘‘T can trust you? You will be true to my little girl?” panted Adam Elton, gripping an arm with feverish force once more, ‘711 be true to her, as Heaven hears me!” was the earnest gg § Once more those haggard eyes were vailed, and only for the painfully-laboring chest, Larri- mer wis have fancied death bad claimed its prey. But Elton quickly rallied, speaking with feverish energy: ‘‘There’s millions in it, if properly worked, and ged her—only my poor little girl to claim it! Only Grace—and you, my friend!” ‘‘ All hers, pardner. I ask nothing for the little I may be able to do,” quickly interposed the young adventurer, ‘‘No—share even—enough for both!” eagerly panted the injured miner. ‘‘ Swear to be true— rein Pa treat her as—your dead mother’s child, and— ‘‘T swear it, pardner,” was the grave re- sponse, ‘‘I swear to treat your daughter as I would my own sister, if she’ll accept my ser- vices.” ‘‘She will—sbe must! She'll be all alone when—I’m gone! And that devil—kill him, if he dares to try to harm my darling!” ‘© 7’]] kill bim as I would a hydrophobia cat, if he and I ever meet up with each other, Adam Elton.” ‘¢- You have sworn—be true to my little girl?” ‘* T have sworn.” ‘‘Then--remember! It’s a sacred legacy—a legacy from thegrave! My body ’ll bedust, but in spirit ’ll—as ye dv unto her, 80 may Heaven deal with you!” In his intense emotion, the wounded man had tially raised himself up from the folded lankets, gripping both Larriimer’s hands be- tween his own, pressing them spasmodically while pronouncing those words, But now, ex- hausted by the effort, he fell back, limp and nerveless, more like a corpse than a man who had a long life before him. Light-heart Lute was pale with strong emo- tion, for he felt that this could only hasten the end, and though he bad vainly striven to hold the dying miner in check, he felt partly respon- sible for the outcome. His first fear proved groundless, Adam Elton was not dead, though he looked so corpse-like. Aud —e that he must learn more, Luther again called the precious brandy-flask into play. Elton swallowed feebly, and presently his lids opened. His sunken eyes told that reason re- mained, and Lute began to question him more closely wetati ty oe the exact location of bis cabin home; was it further up the river, or was it below that point? Elton made some reply, but the words were lost amid the thundering which caused the earth to quake for several moments, Then, just as Light-heart Lute was about to repeat his ques- tions, a wild, eldritch screech came from out- side, closely followed by the gaunt figure of Lemuel Claybank shooting through the narrow entrance on all-fours, his tones full of terror as he yelled aloud: “+ De debble—de debble’s comin’, boss |” If not the devil, something else was! CHAPTER IV. A LITTLE MORE LIGHT.» SoMETHING more dangerous to honest men than Satan could have proved, too! As that wild yell rung forth, Light-heart Lute leaped erect and to one side, his hands seeking the belt of arms about his middle, for only too well he knew the meaning of that alarm, Closely following Lem—so closely, in fact, that its claws gave his hunched-up shoulders an ugly rake in passing—came the long, gauut shape of a mountain lion, driven to its den by the crashing of thunder and the blinding glare of lightning. It struck pets J upon tbe little fire, scattering the glowing sticks as it bounced aside the next instant, arching its back and showing its long teeth in a howl of mingled rage and affright. Then another strange arts, happened, . With a maniacal cry—half-laugbter, balf-de- fiance—Adam Elton flung himself upon the fierce brute, grappling its throat with his fin- LT gers, fairly overthrowing the lion with the vigor of his onset! Fortunately the fire bad only been scattered, not extinguished, by those paws, and there was light enough to guide hand and weapon as Light~ heart Lute leaped forward to the rescue, Man and beast were locked together, rolling over and over in a death-grapple, It was im- possible to use a pistol, and realizing the im- rtance of haste in action, Larrimer flashed orth his long knife, feeling for and clutching the lion by the nape of the neck before sending his steel home, Only one blow was needed, thank Heaven! With spine divided, and that keen point fairly reaching its heart, the gaunt beast gave one spasmodic shiver, then permitted its assailant to be drawn from its powerless paws without resistance, ‘Freshen the fire, you howling idiot!” cried Larrimer, sternly, to the frightened negro, He feared the worst, for elton lay limp and nerveless in his friendly grasp, as though his. feeble spark of life had gone out in that one mad struggle. Lem tremblingly obeyed, and quickly had a bright light leaping up from the dry leaves. And by this, Light-heart Luto saw that—as yet —his worst fears bad not come true, Adam Elton was alive, but that was about alb one could say. He drew his breath feebly, flut- teringly, in irregular gasps. His eyes were half-open, but they seemed already glazing, and nothing of reason or intelligence could be detected therein. Yet he bad suffered but little from the claws of the lion. A few superficial scratches were all Larrimer could discover, and they had not. disturbed the bandages over bis wound, Yet— surely the poor fellow was dying! Light-beart Lute turned to the brandy-flask, but Elton made noeffort toswallow. The liquor slowly oozed from the corner of his li . In awed silence Lem watched his master, shivering at brief intervals, more with terror than with cold, And then, fearing less the wild beasts, the thunder and lightning, the darkness without, than the death within, he crept through the narrow opening and once more cowered close to the friendly rocks which at least shelter- ed bim from the falling rain. ‘‘ Wha’—wha’ is it, boss?” he quavered, after a time—ages it seemed to the poor fellow--as he caught sight of Light-heart Lute coming toward him from the cave. ‘* It’s all over, poor fellow,” gravely spoke the young adventurer, as he squatted down beside ae. nes ro. ‘*He went off easy, at the last, and— ‘‘Kin we go now, boss?’ wistfully muttered Lem, shrinking away from that cave, ‘‘De rain hain’t nigh so wet as it was, an’—an’—” “* Why should we run, Lem? We never harm- ed the poor fellow in life. Weaided him to the best of our poor ability while life lingered. Why should we be frightened of him now ‘*Good Lawd! wha’ fo’ I ebber come to sech a kentry as dis yer’? moaned the negro, i. his face on the arms that closely hug doubled-up knees, rocking from side to side. Instead of laughing at or chiding him for his folly, Light-heart Lute spoke gently, kindly, soothingly, doing bis best to remove those fool- ish fears of the harmless dead. And, in course of time, he succeeded in a measure, Once or twice Larrimer crept into the cave, to freshen the fire, and hoping against hope to again bend over that silent figure. His passing away had been so calm, so peaceful, that it was very hard to believe death had indeed claimed its victim, And so the gray dawn found them, chilled, le from watching and from strong emotion, ut both with steadier nerves and stouter hearts than had been theirs while that darkness lasted. The storm had long since ceased, though a number of clouds still lingered, It was clear- ing away, giving promise of a fair, bright day. Light-heart Lute left Lem crouching there under the rocks, and entering the den, he brought out the remnant of wood with which he quickly § a fire, out of sight of that narrow entrance. With those dry fagots for a foundation, it was no serious task to build up a cheery pile, and filling his quart cup with water at the spring, imer soon had a dose of strong coffee to offer the negro. | ** Aftah you, boss!” huskily mumbled Lem, though his wide nostrils were all aquiver with that welcome scent. | “Drink; and swallow it red-hot, too!” per- emptorily spoke the adventurer, ‘“‘I can’t “co ct ay ee Ee -_ ge