Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 724 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

Violet Vane’s Vengeance. ——— --— ee The sun had dropped far down behind the western peaks and the dusky twilight of an early summer night was gathering in the moun- tain pocket. in the open cabin dvorway stood a beautiful but rather sad-faced young woman, who was scarcely more thana girl, She was anxiously watching the narrow pass which served as the only entrance and exit to the lonely valley. ‘*[ wonder why he does not come?’ she mur- mured, the anxious look deepening in her blue eyes. ‘‘He should have been here by midday, I trust nothing bas happened to him, If there has—if be never returns— Heavenly Father! what would become of me?” The terrible thought caused her face to turn white as snow, and she felt so faint and weak she was compelled to cling to the side of the door- way for support. The shadows grew thicker and deeper amid the rocks; the only sound that broke the still- mess was the sullen and continuous roar of the rapids. How dreary and desolate it was! The utter solitude and loneliness of the place sunk like a heavy weight upon the woman’s heart, She felt as if she were entombed there—buried from all the world. ‘* But with him ican endure it!” oe exclaimed. ‘* With him tbvis place is home—this is our little Paradise! Oh, Frank, my husband! how I love you!—love you with my soul, my body, my en- tire being! You are everything to mg! ith you lam happy, although I cannot forget your hands are stuined with his blood. If I could only banish that haunting memory! [ have tried to forget, but itis impossible. But, wh should I think of that now of all times? It makes me shiver.” She drew back a little within the doorway, and added: ‘‘ Those shadows gathering so blackly away out there seem like evil demons. I dare not re- main bere longer. I will close the door and place a light in the window, so he will know I am expecting him.” : She drew back into the cabin and fastened the door; then she lighted a lamp and placed it so its beams would shine froma small window into the darkness, With e& nervous step, she paced the floor, pausing now and then to listen eager- ly, fearfully, her bands pressed to her breast to still the beating of her heart. As the moments , she became more and more cn ogee ' The room was quite comfortably, though rudely furnished. Everywhere were the unde- finable indications of a woman’s touch and a woman’s presence. At length the waiting woman heard a distant. sound, ith clasped hands, she listened. ' Through the dusk of evening came the hoof- beats of a horse, r—nearer—nearer! — _ “ He is coming ! he iscoming ! he is coming !” She almost shrieked the words in her joyous excitement. Through the dusk of va came the musical hail of a manly voice. With a cry of delight, she burried forward and threw open the door. , ee. bo nk! Frank! Frank !” The borse was at the door, . The man lea down and caught her in his arms, covering her face with kisses. ‘““Why, what is the matter, little wife?” he asked. ‘You are all atremble! What makes “you shake so?” She only clung to him the cldser and hid her face on his breast, beginning to sob. He lifted her gently in his strong arms and carried her in to the cabin. ‘What is the matter, Ione?” he repeated. ** You are in a dreadful state, It is too bad for you to get worked up so now, Tell me the use. “T did not know—I had— Ob, Frank! I feared something dreadful had happened to you! ‘You were so late!” tr ‘Ts that it?” a osha look darkening his handsome face. ‘‘ Well, | bad cause to be late, I was followed.” * Followed” she echoed, in a gasp. nD se ‘Yes, I have been followed from Bowie Bar. I did my best to give my trailers the slip, but it was useless.” ‘ Who followed you? Why did they do so?” ‘I was obliged to dispose of some of my dust and nuggets to obtain provisions. It was seen by some idle miners, and, very naturally, their curiosity was aroused, but their Song I “Oh, failed to elicit any information from me. knew well enough they would follow me, and did my best to lead them astray. That is why I did not reach home at midday. I have spent several good hours in trying to deceive them.” ** And failed?” va Yes. ” She arose from the chair where he had placed her and clasped both bis hands, ‘‘ You. bave come back safe to me, my bus- band, and I am happy.” He smiled and drew ber cicse; but the smile was quickly replaced by a frown. ‘*T am afraid you do not understand just what it means for this pocket to be discovered,” he said, ‘* A rush is sure to follow, and almost be- fore you realize it, there will bea mining-town right here in our secluded retreat. You can imagine what kind of a place this quiet pocket will become.” ‘‘I know. It is true I have hoped to live here for years, hidden from the rest of ‘the world; but, what is to be will be, If the men must come and build a town, let them come, J will not fear, for-you will protect me.” ‘* With my life!” he declared, gazing fondly into her blue eyes. Two months later. A wonderful change had taken place in the little mountain pocket. Instead of one cabin standing beside the roaring stream, tbere were nearly twenty buildings of various descriptions, and more were going up, the sounds of bammer and saw awaking hundreds of echoes. Besides these more substantial erections, there were nu- merous dirty canvas tents, From the rapic, the place had taken the name of White Water City. One of the buildings was a combined hotel and gaming saloon, and a stage line had been established, over which semi- weekly connections with Bowie Bar were made, It was a placer town, add most of the claims were located near the quiet water below the rapid, which still surged and roared and foamed over the grisly rocks. With pan and rocker and sluice, half a hundred men were trying to wash a fortune from the mud of the stream and its vicinity. The original discoverer of the place was known as Frank Stillman, and he held two claims, the extra one being by right of discov- ery. Tke miners knew he was married, but the fact that only one or two of their number had caught glimpses of his wife filled them with wonder and convinced them there was some mystery about the couple, One old fortune- seeker observed that Stillman was properly named, for he was a still man in truth. | Those who had seen Stillman’s wife declared she was ‘‘astunner,” which made those who had not been thus fortunate eager to get a glimpse. Buc Mrs. Stillman seemed determined to avoid observation, Everything did not move smootbly in White Water City. There were two factions, each hostile to the other. One was led by a dark- faced desperado known ag Black Burk, and, as he openly avowed a special dislike for Frank Stillman, Stillman was looked upon as the leader of the other party. Burk had made oneor two unsuccessful attempts to oust Stillman and bis friends from their claims and drive them from the pocket, and although the desperate man bad failed, he still growled and threatened. ‘We're goin’ ter hev er regler hot ole time with thet p’isen critter yit,” observed one of the old men, soberly. ‘Either he an’ his gang hes got ter git out of this town ur ther honest men will hev ter—you bear me!” The old fellow was right. With increasing envy and uneasiness, Black Burk observed the influx of miners to White Water. He had planned a blow that should give himself and his pards the valuable property of the pocket, and he saw his stroke would be useless if be delayed longer, so he quietly mustered bis men, | » But the other faction had been quietly watch- ing the dark-faced rascal all the while, and be- fore he could quite gather his supporters for the grand coup, a4 were all amazed to receive notice that if they did not leave the valley hag: an hour they would be forcibly ejected or hung. Things culminated rapidly, and the result was something like a battle, in which Black Burk and his men were worsted and driven out of White Water. But, as the desperado and his satellites retreated through the gap, Burk called down curses on the town ‘and declgred bis ene- mies had not seen the last of him. “*T will yet prove a scourge to this place!” he shouted, turning to sbake his clinched hand at those who were watching his departure. ‘‘I am not the man to be run out of a town and never return! I promise you that you shall hear from Black Burk again.” And they did. The citizens of White Water had met to elect a ‘mayor and city government.” The meeting was held in the saloon of the Columbia Hotel, | and the orators were just getting in their fine work at warming up the assembly when a red- headed miner known as Red Hot dashed in = — door and leaped upon the top of a deal- e. ‘* Feller-citizens of thish yere galori’us city of White Water!” he shouted, waving his arms after tre manner of a rooster on a fence as he flaps bis wings preparatory tocrowing. ‘‘Give me yer upadulterated distention fer erbout one min- ute an’ I will declaim somethin’ thet’ll jest er- bout knock ye bald-headed with amazement. Three days ago there wuzan addition ter ther poppylashun of this yere city thet has bin kep’ er dark an’ silent secret tell jest erbout now,” Instantly the attention of the meeting was centered on the red-beaded man. ‘* What are you driving at?” demanded one, ‘* A secret?” cried another. ‘* W’at is it?” ‘* Spit it out!” ** Let it slide!” ‘* You hev our ears!” ‘* Excuse me!” grinned the red-head. ‘‘) hev plenty ’nuff ears of my own. I hain’t settin’ up as no jackass. But, speakin’ of thet thar addi- tion to our poppylation, feller-ecitizens, it is—” He paused, impressively. ‘* W'at iv thunder is it?’ demanded an impa- tient listener. ‘© 4 babby !” ‘* W-h-a-t ?” shouted fifty voices, ‘Tv’s a babby!” repeated Red Hot, smiting his hands together in his excitement—“ a gin- oowine leetle teenty squawkin’ babby, or lm er howlin’ liar?!” What an excitement his words created! ‘* Where is it?’ came the cry. ‘*Tt’s over ter Stillman’s, b’gosh!” replied the man on the table, ‘‘ An’ be’s ther father of it! l’ve jest seen it, an’—” But the crowd waited to hear no more. There was no motion to ac journ, but every man made a break for the door. * Out of the saloon they poured and made straight for Stillman’s cabin, The one who reached it first rapped lightly on the door. When Frank Stillman appeared, the fellow said: ; ‘* Er-er-excuse me! We have called to see the —ah!—the—ahem !—-the babby !” Stillman looked at the crowd in consternation, then smiled, as he replied: ‘*T am sorry, pede, my house is too small to hold you all, so l cannot invite you in. But if you will pass the window yonder, you can have a look at the baby.” There was no hesitation. The men filed past the open window, beyond which, in an easy- chair which could be made to serve as a bed, rechned the blushing mother, with the sleeping infant on her breast. athe one of those rough fellows removed his hat and spoke in a whisper, afraid of ovale the baby, Those in front lingered and stared till pushed along by the ea- ger ones behind, Around the corner, after tak- ing a look, the men slapped each other on the back, shook hands enthusiastically, and a few even bugged some particular friend. “Ther footure of White Water City is assur- ed!” asserted Judge Orson Whittles. ‘ Wuzn't it a picter!” ** An’ it’s mother—she’s a daisy /” ** An’ Stillman—he’s a trumph!” “* You bet!” When all had taken a look, the men marched back together. | Stillman was still standing in the doorway, | smiling. The throng paused, and, removing his» hat, Judge Whittles said: ‘** Mister Stillman, you are an honor ter this yere great city of White Water. We, her representative citizens, are proud of you and— and your*wife and—and—and the babby.” The crowd could restrain themselves no longer, Some one proposed three cheers; Hot led off, and, forgetting the sleeping infant, the men gave vent to their enthusiasm, When Stillman had thanked them, the judge observed: ‘‘ We are now goin’ back ter ther meetin’, an’ I reckon ther boys ’ll find it an easy thing ter decide who shell be may’r of this yere city, They did. Frank Stillman was unapimousl elected to the office. CHAPTER II. : STUTTERING CHARLIE AND HAPPY HARRY, ‘Oh, Iam the real Charlie Ross! Hy pavers are mourning my logs; I ne ‘ll give enuff ak ed. See ; of os é; iM unt for myse If not, I'll remain my own boss,” THE singer was seated on a small bowlder, |. \ * . ‘ ? Poe sn he ‘a », yy - m (Fs 2 ~ DOOKS.C i) id nw? , ww EN aw ' , the , * “A ~~ «i 4 acrrs he the a » a) Re -y” s ~ 4a al 2 eee ey Se ad * « - a " - é eS Se a a raat . = ~ 7 : . + : ~ ° Vl > & * a - 2 a—~ “~, ~