Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 723 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

Be Silverblade, the Shoshone, ‘** | believe in the Indian Messiab, as I believe in my life!” ‘“‘ And you believe that his coming will be tho sfnal for the death of all who boast of white birth?’ ‘‘ I believe in that, as well, sir.” ‘*And you are ready to welcome that ad- vent?” ‘If it brought me death eternal, still I would welcome his coming. for the sake of all down- trodden Indians, sir, ‘‘ Even if that coming dooms your father to death, among the rest?” “T have no father, save the Indian Messiah. And you, bave you not had ample warning? There are other lands than this, the red-man’s bome, You can cross the ocean. and there you can live in peace and safety. There is room enough yonder for all of white birth, but here— this continent belongs to the Indian now, asit has since time began! And when our Messiah comes, only Indians will be permitted to draw breath within its limits,” ** You talk as though you really believed all this rot, David,” with a half-contemptuous echo in his tones. ‘*T not only believe, but I know it!” ** How do you know it, boy?’ ‘* By the words which the New Messiah has placed “intc the mouths of the chosen ones, know it, just as surely as I would know, had I been one of the favored few to whom the Mes- siaE has shown himself.” For some little time the both busy with thought, bridge spoke again: ‘* Of course, then, you believe that yon paint- bedaubed knave, whc did his evil best to pre- vent your responding to the death call of your mother, is one of those chosen few, David? You believe that your wondrous miracle-worker has picked him out as one of his precious mouth- pieces?’ There came no immediate reply. Silverblade hung his head, strong emotions doing battle in his brain, as his changing features plainly be- traved, That was a question which he expected, yet dreaded. He wished it might have been evaded, but since it had come, he would answer truth- fully, if at all. ‘** You heard what I asked you, Davie?” softly added bis father. ‘““T heard, yes,” at the same lifting his head and honestly encountering that keen gaze, though the troubled light deepened in his own eyes. ¥ “py you really believe that, as well as the rest?” ‘*T wish [I could say yes, but that would not be wholly true, sir have tried hard to have perfect faith in the father, but—failei! I know the doctrine he preacbes is pure and perfect, but —I can’t feel as sure of the mouthpiece!” ** Good!” leaning across and — gripping a “ene band as they rode briskly along. ** That’s my Davie, honest and true!” ‘**] believe in all the rest, though.” “Just now; but— Never mind,” checking himself as he felt danger ahead, ‘Ill explain just why you can’t fully trust that prophet, as he calls himself.” In rapid, earnest words, Luke Woodbridge told his son what had happened that day, between Enola, Jobv Godfrey and himself, then added: ‘* When I got home, I called in the boys, and warned them against the dirty whelp. And one of them—Johnson, it was—told me some- thing which enabled me to give your medicine- man the thrust that touched him to the quick; you saw him flinch, Davie! ‘*Johnsor swore that, a few days ago, he caught sight of John Godfrey, talking with a fellow whom he recognized as none other than the knave engaged in stirring up the Indians, hereabouts. And, more, he sworo that he was a white man!” ** He surely must have been mistaken!” ‘* He vowed he was not, and you kuow how reliable Johnson has over proved himself. He swore that the fellow had short-cropped, light hair. That fits better with the greenish-gray eyes I saw under his painted brows, David!” * I can’t believe tt repeated Silverblade, but * But even so, one liar does rode on in silence, ut then Luke Wood- adding quickly: not kil! the truth! He may be false, but the In- dian Messiak is surely truet And i am his fol- mo - ‘lower, not that of apy; Witb those words, Silverblade spurred on, setting a too rapid for conversation Luke Woodbridge was content that it should beso Apart from his natural anxiety toreach home, where bis wife was lying so ill, he knew he had given his wayward son food for sober + at ae aes Mtn a NS Ra li at a al Me ics i mn Pet a ' | thought and it would do no hurt to give time for it to fairly take root. For more tban an hour that silence was un- broken, partly because both father and son had food for reflection, but mainly because they had reached a tract of ground so rough and broken that riding side by side was hardly practicable, even if haste was not the most essential thing, just then. There was no semblance of a trail, but they were perfectly familiar with the lay of the ground, and in order to skirt the head of a rocky gulch, rather than valley, Silverblade was veering sharply to the right hand, when both men abruptly drew rein. ‘* Listen!” muttered the young man, as both their heads bowed slightly. ‘‘ Surely that was a—panther, is it?” ‘** Lion,” nodded Woodbridge, but then adding as a far different sound came to their ears: ‘‘ Man, too, by glory! In trouble, or his voice tells lies!” Silverblade was already in motion, sending his horse over the thick-lying rocks, heading direct for the gulch, for instinct told bim those cries came from that point. Woodbridge hesitated an instant, for his cares were more for the sufferer at home than with this stranger. But then he, as well, dashed ahead at reckless speed, and he imitated the ex- ample set by his son when they came toa point where a footman could make better time than one on horseback, Silverblade, snatching the Winchester repeat- er from its slings at his saddle-bow, lea to earth and ran swiftly forward, in less than a minute “coming to a spot from whence he could look down into the guich where a horrible tragedy was just about opening. Two men, strung side by side upon a pole, were suspended nies down a rocky wall. Directly in front of them, its head and{shoulders nearly filling an irregular hole in the rock, crouched a mountain lion, just giving vent to an angry howl, before ee. its death-leap! With lightning quickness, Silverblade leveled his rifle and fired, but as the report came, so came that death-leap, andthe helpless men yell- ed aloud as the maddened beast struck them squarely ! CHAPTER XV, FOR MORE THAN LIFE, THE doubly-laden pole was swung outward from the face of the rock by that shock, but the lion fell, writhing, kicking, twisting through the air until the broken rocks at the base of the wall received its carcass. One more bullet caught the squirming mass before it came to a pause, but the cartridge was wasted. The first sbot had s true to its aim, and that leap bad ind been one of death. r ; The poleswung back, bumping the knees of the helpless men against the narrow ledge in which showed the mouth of the den. One of them eried sharply for help, and SilverSlade as quick- ly answered back. “Courage, Max! in a hurry, now!” “Thank Heaven! It’s Yoana. s oncberidien for ducats!”' exploded Big Horn Buck, recognizing the voice, though their backs were turned in that direction, rendering it impossible to sight the marksman, ‘‘ Never mind us! ‘’Nola—save her from— devils!” hoarsely panted Donaldson, forgetting himself in solicitude for the one being dearest to his honest heart. “Shut up!” almost fiercely growled Horton, at that. *' It'll help, not hinder, the time it takes to cut us down. Wo can tell—they only guess— see ¢ Neither man was in fit condition to talk, just then. Both had felt tho claws of the death-smit- ten lion, though those scratches alone were of no serious moment, But those hours of suspension, after such a cruel fashion, had done at least a sharo of thoevil intended by John Godfrey when his diabolical ingenuity devised that torment for his enemies, The instant he knew nothing further was to be feared from the mountain lion, Silverblade took in the details of the scene at one comprehensive glance; then, bidding Luke Woodbridge keep ard and encourage the two luckless beings, he hed off to bring up the horses, That was a much shorter task than a since he met tho faithful creatures following along the track of their masters, and snatching the at from each saddle-bow, Silverblade We'll have you out of that gave the horses an encouraging cry, them swiftly retraced his steps, ** Only a little longer, friends!” he shouted, as EOE EEE he scrambled down one side of the gulch, scale the other. ‘Cut the rope, and let us drop!” hoarsely cri the Sorder Beagle, his very tones betraying h¢ unbearable their torture had grown, ‘** Better yet! One little minute more!” ** He’s right,” said Woodbridge, following ¢ ter hisson, ‘‘It’d be clean death, or broké bones, to take such a drop, on the rocks. Bre up a bit longer, and we'll have you out of th safe and sound.” Tbe stockman was quick and active enoug but before he could gain the top of the wall ov which Jobn Godfrey bad slung his captive Silverblade had begun tbe work of rescu guided by what that first glance had told him. He knotted one end of each lariat aroun the tensely drawn ropes supporting that heavy weight, midway between the edge of the cl “ty the tree to which each rope bad been kno ted. He passed his lariats around another trunk close at hand, and had the slack closely taken u by the time Luke Woodbridge put in an appea ance. 4 ‘Good bey, Davie!” the old man panted drawing a mighty breath as recompense for h eager battle with that stiff climb. ‘* An hour’ study couldn’t cipher it out clearer than that.” ‘Take this end, father,” retaining one of th ropes himself as he drew nearer the escarpment “Ready to cut the rope when I give the wor: You understand it all, I see,” ‘‘ Surely,” nodded the stockman, imitating hi example, ‘All ready, below!” called out Silverblada casting a keen look downward. ‘We'll keep you from falling hard, never fear!” ‘*Falling’d be a mercy!” hoarsely answered Big Horn Buck, but never a word came from Cowboy Max. His head bung loosely on his shoulder, and hé looked more dead than alive. Liberty was hard¢ er to face than had been death! | waist, then around his arm, while bis fingers e Ready? Then—cut !” The two blades made @ simultaneous sweep across the tensely drawn lariats, and as the ropes parted with a vicious twang, tho shock came heavily upon both father and son as the weight was transferred to their riatas instead, But they proved equal to the occasion, and moving foot by foot away from the escarpment, edeviadel: the tree about which their ropes were turned, they steadily lowered the laden pole, giving a cry of relief as they felt it touch the rocks at the bottom of the gulch, ‘‘Drop the ropes, father, then come—careful- ly, for mother’s sake!” where a descent could be made without an al- most certain fall, swiftly swinging or leaping from: rock to rock, thinking far more of the suf- ferers than of his own safety, It was a reckless display of nerve and agility, but he reached the bottom of the gulch in safety, and in ten seconds more, his keen knife bad cut the two men free from the pole, casting it aside, then gently straightening out their terribly cramped limbs, ‘1t’s Heaven—after hell!” gasped Big Horn Buck, in barely recognizable tones; but never a sound came from the swollen lips of Cowboy ax. That frightful ordeal had been too much for his powers, suffering as he did, a mental torture that discounted his bodily agony. “Go fetch —whisky— pocket!” panted Luke Woodbridge, as he came up; and readily divin- ing what he meant, Silverblade burried away to where their faithful borses were ing, near the top of the other ridge. , The double trip occupied but a few minutes, yet that was long enough for the tough detective ing John Godfrey to the stockman 4s Silver- blade came back with a flask of whisky. And Cowboy Max, too, was beginning to rally, though as yet his meaning could only be guessed at, He gasped forth the name of the muiden, and a word or two about the need of great haste; but it fell to the lot of Big Horn Buck to tell the repulsive truth, uke Woodbridge turned pale as ® Corpse as he listened, and there was a fierce glitter in his eyes as they turned toward bis son. ‘You hear, David? This devil is a friend to your devil re: a preptest This is a mate to your cursed medicine-mao ‘Prove that, and I'll bring you the bloody scalps of both!’ sternly answered the youth, turning away, as he added: com ‘*Draw tight, hold firm, father!” muttered Silverblade, taking a turn of the lasso about bis ipped the pliant braid-like hooks of steel, to rally in a measure, and he was just denounc- | ,00KS.com Silverblade darted away to the nearest point