Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 729 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

14 Silverblade, the Half-Blood. open space, to pause when fairly under cover | horse, thinking only of reaching bis destination beyond. rom that position he could catch glimpses of the enemy, skulking about, und knew that they were making preparations for a desperate as- sault on the rancb building, His heart beat swiftly, bis hands gripped the rifle he had brought with him, and its polished stock flew up to touch shoulder and cheek as he covered the nearest outlaw. His finger touched trigger, but he did not fire, though it was very hard torefrain. Only fears of increasing the peril of the besieged, by letting the evil gang know one had escaped to ride for Seen Oe could have withheld his band just then, ‘* No,” his brain spoke as he turned away and hastened along in the direction where he boped to find the horses left by Big Horn Buck and himself, ‘‘There is a time for playing fox, as well as a time for showing teeth of mountain Jion! It would be a good fight, but Silverblade is young: hecan wait for his first soalp, since he must |” Nothing rose in his path to block his way, and Silverblade found the two horses just as they had been left. A low nicker greeted his coming, but a single word caused the intelligent crea- tures to be still, and the half-blood was quickly in his own saddle, Fora moment be debated whether or no to take Horton’s steed with him, as a change mount, bat then decided in the negative. It was barely possible that, should worst come to worst, the Border Beagle might fight his way ckar, only to lose bis life for lack of a horse, should he find this one missing. Scill anotaer sore temptation assailed the Shoshone as he rode away from that spot, forced as he was to make a half-circle around the enemy, in order to gain the direction given him by Big Horn Buck as that be must follow in order to reach the nearest ranch where aid might be obtained. Why not make a bold dash upon that evil gang? Why not try to intimidate them b shots, and yells, and desperate charging? f they could be made to think a rescuing force was at hand, would they not break in terror, and abandon the assault, almost before it was begun? Once more reason came to the rescue, and Silverblade reluctantly abandoned that notion. If the gang had been all in a bunch, such an ex- — might have proved successful, but long be- ore a panic could spread along that curved line, some one among the enemy would recognize the half-blood, and even should he win clear with life, his escape would only warn them to swifter work, in order to have all over before aid could be brought upon the scene. Thus it came about that Silverblade sped away from the Dancer Ranch without firing a shot, or having a shot fired at him, To bis hot heart, for the first time beating with the fever of battle, it seemed almost like a cowardly flight, but he ag back that shameful sensa- tion, and before long thought only of perform- ing his important mission with as li time as might be, ' At least two things were against him, when he came to sum up the chances: the great distance the nearest ranch lay from the besieged cabin, and the condition of his horse. Although a swift and sturdy beast, it had been ridden hard that night, and while willing- ly responding to his voice and touch, racing along like a thoroughbred, Silverblade knew that even its powers bad their limit. And so, like a true horseman, he nursed its powers as much as be dared, lending it aid with rein and hand, in so far showing himself a white, rather than a red-skin. As he left mile after mile behind him, Silver- blade cast many an anxious glance over his shoulder in the direction of the long-since invisi- ble ranch. He had little fear of the place being e loss of carried by direct assaclt, with four such stout pears to beat back the outlaws, but he did fear And then, when the night was far spent, and he was beginning to look ahead for some sign to tell him that his destination was not much further along, a hoarse, fierce cry broke from bis lips. There was a dull red glow along the sky-line many miles away, but only too well did he read its terrible meaniny: ‘The devils! ey’ve fired the cabin!” he gasped, wrenching up hig sweat-damp horse, and lf-wheeling to dash back, to share the fate of Big Horn Buck and bis friends, nly for a single breath, then he turned and dashed along his original course, riding pow as an Indian rides, caring naught for his good with the least possible loss of time. Let the horse die, but let him bring his master to the nearest ranch! ‘*1f too late to save, ll avenge!” he kept muttering; and it was David Woodbridge that spoke now, not Silverblade, the Ghost Dancer, Repidly that lurid glow spread, bigher, brighter, blotting out the twinkling stars, hold- ing the feverish gaze of the mad rider as bya magic spel], He left his horse to keep a true line of itself, for he could not refrain from watch- ing that terrible beacon—the signal of death, as he knew only too well! Only for this constant looking backward, Sil- verblade might have avoided what followed, but his first intimation of breakers ahead, came in the shape of a loud, clear, stern challenge: ‘* Halt! hands up, or fare worse, stranger!”’ He turned like a flash, but before he could jerk up bis horse, the balf-blood found himself barely a dozen yards distant from a number of armed men, afoot but with leveled guns, while a single horseman was just trotting up and over ths sharp swell behind which their ambush had been placed, Silverblade was lifting his Winchester, when he caught a faint glitter that opened his mental eyes, and he hastily called out: ‘** Don’t shoot, if you’re soldiers!” ** Down gun, and up hands, then,” came the same voice asitsowner keptadvancing, ‘* We're Cheyenne Scouts, who are you ?” ‘You're white—you’re bonest? You'll ride to save men of your own race from being roast- ed like—come, if ye are men!” hoarsely cried the balf-crazed youth, his over-tasked powers threateving to fail him now that he saw even sucb a dim hope of rescuing his friend, The horseman, young and handsome, bearing the straps of a lieutenant of the regular army on his blouse, came still closer, and his hand closed on the arm of the half-blood before answering or speaking, - ‘‘Whoare you, my man? Who's in danger? That fire is near the Big John Ranch, and—” ‘‘Dave Darnell is burning the ranch, Big Horn Buck is penned up in there, and—” ‘‘The devil you say!” exploded Lieutenant Casey, turning toward his men and shouting: ‘¢ Mount and follow! There’s work for us over yonder!” There was precious little delay, Those in charge of the horses were already bringing them up the slope, and in less than another minute the Cheyenne Scouts were in saddle and following after their gallant young chief. As they rode along, Silverblads, still Indian enough to extract a remarkable degree of spend out of an exhausted animal, the half-blood swiftly sketched what bad transpired at the Dancer Rauch, up to the time of bis leaving it to bring back assistance. **! knew Big Horn was up in these parts, for I had a hint to be on the lookout for him, incase he sbould require any assistance when he had trailed that gang home, and so—your nag is about played, man! ‘*Silverblade can rup,” was the laconic re- nse, as the Shoshone sprung from his saddle e in hand, doing it all so deftly, that the rapid pace was not broken in the slightest degree, But Lieutenant Casey only watcbed him fora few seconds, smiling in grim approval, Then Silverblade was mounted behind one of. the Cheyenne Scouts, leaving the jaded horse to follow at will, or to be picked up later, if fate should so decide, The night was nearly spent when Silverblade met the uts, who had broken camp several miles beyond that point of meeting, taking saddle as soon as the guard reported a growing light to the north. The dawn of day found them still far from tae Dancer Ranch, and though they maintained that rapid pace, all knew that it was not because of the coming sun alone that yonder lurid glow grew dimmer until it could rdly be seen at all. 4 ‘* It’s a thousand pities we couldn’t make it in time to save, but we'll do our level best to avenge !” declared the young chief of scouts, in hard, stern tones, ‘‘ Big Horn Buck was worth a thousand common men at any time, but just now he would be beyond all price! He knows this whole country like a printed e, and could do more than a regiment to check this in- fernal ghost-dance racket?’ ‘*T am a Ghost Dancer, sir,” quietly said the half-blood. ** Ob, bush!” laughed Casey, though he frown- ed a bit at what he deemed but an untimely effort at a joke, ‘‘ Don’t claim the name too often, or you'll be taken at your word, and turned into a ghost, for keeps!” ‘ es ee es a ee os wee, et 0 ee er te eee ee — - ee Still on, as rapidly as their horses could stand the pressure, but only to find empty corrals, bare grounds, a glowing mass of ruins where bad so lately stood tbe substantial log building! ‘We did our level best, as ycu can testify, young map,” said Casey, in grave tones, as he drew rein, ‘' All gone; all lost!” ‘* Who says so ?” came a voice from—whither? CHAPTER XV. A FINAL APPEAL, SCATTERED here and tuere were blotches of heat-dried blood, but not even a corpse lay within range of those wondering eyes, Surely that voice could not have come from any place ast coger gon beneath tbat heap of glowing ruins For a single breath even Silverblade shrunk back, though he had at once recognized the voice of his pard, Big Horn Buck, but rallying as swiftly, he sprung tothe ground and ran toward a low grass and weed-covered mound, only a few rods from where the cabin had stocd. And, lifting higher a sod-covered door, Big Horn Buek sprung into view, to be clasped in the bare arms of the young Shoshone, while after him came the Dancer family, from Big John down to little Mary! Explanations were in order, and little time was lost in making all points clear, for which there was ample opportunity. Lieutenant Casey declared that he would take the trail with his scouts, and recover the stolen stock, but an hour or two spent in resting their animals and feeding themselves, would be more than made up in the end. Leaving Big John and his boys to tell their story, Horton led his young pard int@® the cyclone-pit, and showing him another ‘cun- ningly-hidden door in one of the four walls briefly made clear the mannerin which all had been saved, just when all seemed lost, ‘‘John didn’t give me a hint, even, until I lifted a band to throw off the bar across the front door,” Horton explained, taking note of the half-sneer which came into the face of Sil- verblade as he drew back from his brief look into the narrow tunnel revealed by that door. ‘‘He didn’t trust me, any more than he ‘bad trusted you, Davie, when he snapped little Mary up so short that time.. She was going to say that you might steal out by this pass, but Big John wouldn’t hear her through,” Then Horton went on to tell of the fight, the fire, the desperate resolve he had taken as the only chance he saw for the two women escaping with their lives. And when to linger longer meant certain death to them all, Big John Dancer made known bis carefully-guarded secret. In common with nearly every Western ranch, the Dancers had built an outside cellar or pit, for refuge in case a tornado should happen that way. But the half-blood had done more: he had run a tunnel from beneath the log cabin to the cellar, and then, with true Indian caution, bad masked it with a cunningly-contrived door in the wall. Of course, there was a chance that some of the enemy had discovered what that low mound —lower than common, since Big John made bis secret as perfect as possible—meant, and had chosen it as cover for their bodies while waiting for the desperate rush on the part of their vic~- time; but that was a chance they must risk, Providentially, however, everything went well, and the ttle party gained the cyclone- cellar without being sus . ‘“‘T had to bold the fort, though, Davie,” Sr sage srimly’ at the remembrance, ‘“ Lit- erally hold it, with my guns, too! Big John was hotter than his own cabin, just then, and his boys weren’t chunks of ice, They wanted out, and swore they’d clean the whole gang rather than lay still and let the “ape make away with all the stock. And if Mary and her mother badn’t backed me up, there’d have been a mighty sight more sign aying around loose than you found, tool” — ee Fire would break its teeth trying to eat this/” muttered Silverblade, glancing at_the stone roof, covered deeply with earth, ‘ Four braves could fight hard, here!” The Border Beagle nodded assent, with a low laugh before adding; : “You're right, Davie, and so Big Jobn said, But we had two women to consider, and then— if Dave Darnell and bis imps felt dead sure we all were wiped out by the fire, wouldn’t he be more careless in getting away with his plunder? Wouldn’t it be easier to catch up with, and pay him back? That was my main idea, of course.” Silverblade’s face lightened up at this shrewd explanation, which an Indian, as he now claim- ed to be, could appreciate so thoroughly. -comicbooks.