Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 755 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 Across a level, grassy expanse between the North Fork of the Big Cheyenne and Rattle- snake Creek, wound a train of five wagons, their white canvas tops gleaming like snow un- der the moonbeams, A bunodred yards or more ahead of this train rode two horsemen, side by side. One was Jonas Bradlaw, chief of the immi- grant party; the other, Hackamore Hank, a uide employed by the immigrants while at Smithville, the last settlement through which the traiu had passed, At the moment we introduce them to the reader, the two men were spurring rapidly to- ward the shadow of a huge, broad-topped, soli- tary oak on the eastern bank of a small tribu- tary to the Rattlesnake, This lone tree marked the apex of a slight knoll, which commanded a splendid view of a wirle expanse of the surrounding plain. ‘* What a magnificent place for a camp!” ex- claimed Bradlaw, as they drew rein at the sum- mit, his eyes quick to detect the many advan- tages of the elevation. ‘‘ Here, with the wagons parked, and everything made snug, we could afford to laugh at an attack of the red devils,” ‘* Mebbe; but thet timber line yender must be our camp, Mr. Bradlaw,” the guide declared, pointing ahead to a thin blue line just visible through the haze, ‘‘Et’s ther p’int I’ve bin aimin’ fer all day.” ‘*T wish it were nearer, Guide Hackamore, The folks are all dead tired, and the horses can’t keep up much longer. We have made a long march to-day.” ‘*Too long, sir, ter be made often; but ef I hain't greatly mistook et’s kerried us acrost ther danger line, an’ leaves us but a short day’s travel from Rapid City. ‘*An’ pow, sir, ef ye'll keep ther wagons movin,’ Pll ride on ahead, pick out a camp- ground, an’ go through the timber a bit, In this kentry et’s best allers ter explore these tim- ber islands afore pitchin’ tent in ’em.” ‘*Quite right, Guide Hackamore, I see that you leave no point unguarded, Yes, I will keep the wagons moving.” ‘“‘ ’ve fought Injuns sense I war ten years old, Mr. Bradlaw, an’ I kalkilats I know their tricks better’n a Methodist preacher does ther long- meter doxology,” returned the guide, and touch- ing spurs to his claybank mare be galloped swiftly toward the distant timber. Jonas Bradiaw gazed after him admiringly. ‘* What a splendid horseman!” he murmured, stroking his long beard, ‘‘And be is a very prince of bordermen, ever cool, prudent and sagacious, with a frame that apparently never tires. He has certainly served us most faith- fully on this perilous trip.” Jonas Bradlaw was an old man, his age ex- ceeding three-score years, He was tall and port- ly, with dark, piercing eyes and snowy hair and beard, but bore himself with an ease re- markable in one so far beyond the prime of life, He sat his horse like one to the saddle born, was well dressed and well armed. His bright, black eyes followed the guide for fully a minute, and then be wheeled his borse to ride back to the train, **Old man, do you want to lose your hair?” The startling question was uttered ina clear, earnest voice, and came from a point so near at hand that Bradlaw started in surprise and aJarm, his band dropping to the heavy revolver-butt protruding from his bolster. Confronting him, with folded arms, wasa tall, well-built youth, clad in buckskin and wearing a black, broad-brimmed slouched hat and. high- topped cavalry boots, A stout leather belt en- circled bis trim waist, and supported an eight- inch bowie and a brace of as fine revolvers as human skill had yet produced, “* Who are you?” Bradlaw demanded, imperi- ously, his keen eyes fixed searchingly on the face of the youth, ‘* What do you mean?” “Tam Gold-Dust Dan,” was the quiet reply, the dark eyes of the youth meeting the question- ing gaze calmly and unflinchingly. ‘‘ And I mean that you and those with you arein terrible danger of losing your scalps,” Bradlaw started. Then back to his mind came the reassuring words of the guide, and he smiled grimly. ** Pooh! boy, you would frighten me!” be cried, contemptuously. ‘*‘ Why, we are out of range of the red-skins and in less than a day’s travel of the settlement. Be off! Carry your rot to more gullible markets!” routh flushed, then smiled in turn. hat ‘settlement’ do you refer to?” be ask- ‘ Nite 3 City.” es pid City? Why, sir, that is full fifty miles LE te ttt, Gold-Dust Dan’s Oath. to the south, and west! Turn which way you may, there is nocamp or settlement within a day’s travel, and but one within two days’—Em- pire, a trifling camp down on the North Fork! ‘‘This stream bere is tributary, not to Elk Creek, as you must suppose, but to the Rattle- snake! ‘‘In a word, sir, you are traveling, not into the Black Hills, but directly away from them, and are at this moment inthe very beart of the — country, an easy prey to red-skin or out- aw! The earnest face, the positive tones, of the youth, fairly staggered Jonas Bradlaw. He tugged fiercely at his long beard, and eyed his surroundings nervously. But he was slow to yield his point, ‘*Guide Hackamore—” Gold-Dust Dan raised his hand impatiently, saying: f Pardon the interruption, sir, but this guide, Hackamore Hank, is an infernal scoundrel—a murderous, treacherous decoy! He hasdeceived you from first to last, with whatintent you may surmise when Il tell you that he is even now ahead of the train to consult with the most no- torious outlaw and renegade who ever cursed the Dakota hills and plains—Red Panther!” Jonas Bradlaw shuddered, and bis face lost its ruddy glow. Dismounting, he confronted the ‘* Young man, how know ye this?” he asked, the imperious tone giving way to one of deepest earnestness, ‘‘I have re every confidence in the guide. May Heaven forgive me if I have made a mistake!” ‘* You certainly have made a mistake,” averred Gold-Dust Dan, firmly. ‘' And now, to con- vince you, ** After you went into camp last night, this Hackamore rode away, and was absent till near midnight?’ ‘* Yes, sir; he asked permission to reconnojter the country ahead,” ‘* Instead of doing so, he rode on two miles toa timber island, where, by appointment, be met Red Panther, the renegade. 1 lay concealed in that island and distinctly heard eve:y word spoken. ’ ** Do you recognize this?” Dan held g small pocket compass so the rays of moonlight fel) full upon it, “That? Why, that is mine!” the immigrant asserted, taking the compass in hishand, ‘I lost it the first day out from Smithville.” ‘“* Hackamore stole it, that he might deceive you in regard to the course,” declared Dan. “Tf you remember, there were two days of dense fog, and during that time, instead of traveling a little south of west, you were go- ing due northwest!” A groan burst from the lips of Jonas Brad- law. To his mind at that moment came many things, trifling in themselves, perhaps, but as a whole terribly damaging to the guide, and the truth of the youth’s words flashed upon him with the force of absolute conviction, ‘*Go on—go on!” he cried, hoarsely. ** Willingly, but I must be brief, as we have not a moment to lose,” returneT Dan, ‘‘ From Hackamore’s talk I learned of the theft of the eompass, and its objects. More, that on clear days you had been led out of your course, mak- ing long detours to avoid imaginary bans of red-skins, : ‘“* It was ame between them last night that the timber clump toward which Hackamore is now riding, sbould be the point of attack, the guide pledging himself to lead you straight in- to an ambush from which there could be no escape, He has impressed you with a sense of security, and has counseled and urged his night. march that you men might be tired out and the less able to resist. In a word, he has striven faithfully to make the fulfillment of his wicked compact a complete success.” ‘*The inhuman monster!” grated Bradlaw, the red tide of anger leaping over his face, 1] betieve yon, lad, and ask your rhe for my rudeness a moment ago. But, I had every con- fidence in that man, in spite of the many unac- countable little things which had bappened since ITemployed him, *‘T can hardly understand, though, why the cunning devils should be at such infinite care and pains to entrap the train. It is hardly worth looting.” ““Red Panther and the outlaw spoke of that sir, and it would seem that you have a smal steel casket which the renegade is particularly anxious to secure.” Jonas Bradlaw staggered back, and his face instautly grew white, ‘* Tne casket!” he muttered, ia a thick voice, Sa, : , = . ‘oe ; - st rey 4. &® soa . E * \: an - ead CAA % oat? + Ms ° v f, ‘* Ah! but they shall never haveit! Life itself, first!” ‘And now, sir,” pursued Gold-Dust Dan, his keen eyes noting Bradlaw’s agitation, ‘‘ I would ask if among the trainmen there is one known as Zack?” ‘*Zack? Zack? Not to my knowledge, sir,” returned Bradlaw, conquering his weakness by a desperate effort, ‘‘ Why?” ‘*There is a traitor among the men—an ally of Hackamore. You must watch closely, and at the first sign of treachery lay the fellow by the heels, ‘1 would suggest, too, that you hurry up the wagons. Park them around this tree, and go intocamp. Here you will be on bigh ground, in the shadow, and with wood and water at band, 6n€ will be better able to withstand an at- tack. ‘** And if Hackamore returns?” ** No doubt he will be back shortly, and will insist on your moving on tothe timber. Have the fellow and those who side with him seized, bound and gagged, See that they do not es- cape, for with their knowledge of your forces they would be able to work you great harm.” ‘“By the heavens! I'll hang the scoundrels!” gritted Bradlaw, ‘‘They certainly deserve hanging, sir, but I would counsel milder measures now, They may become valuable as hostages. ‘** And now, sir, I have a party of friends en- camped among the foot-bills twenty miles south- west, experienced rangers and fighters, every one of them; and if you desire their belp I'll go secure it,” **I shall be only too glad to accept their ser- vices until I am clear of this death-net,” earnest- ly declared Bradlaw, ‘** And they will be most willing to give you a lift,” averred Gold-Dust Dan, and turning away he uttered a low, trilling whistle, To the intense surprise of Jonas Bradlaw, a magnificent horse, black as jet, rose from the grass a few rods away, and galloped straight to the side of the young ranger. ‘** Remember!” cried Dan, as he vaulted light- ly into the saddle, and then with a parting wave of his hand he galloped swiftly away to the south west. Bradlaw’s eyes followed him most earnestly for a mo nent, then turned toward the approach- ing wagon-train., ut, a rustling in the tall grass just behind bim caused him to wheel around, revolver in hand, The grass was waving wildly, and a suc- cession of duil, heavy sounds convinced him that a desperate hand-to-hand struggle was in pro- gress nota rod away. — Dropping the bridle-rein, the immigrant sprung forward, One bound, then came a dull, erunch- ing noise, and a balf-naked oe leaped into full view, lunged forward, and fell at his feet— dead! A single glance, and Bradlaw recoiled with a gasp of horror, The head of the red-skin was cleft from crown to chin! Then, up from the grass rose Hackamore Hank, his dark eyes aglow with fierce triumph, a dripping tomahawk in his hand, CHAPTER IL, INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH, It was with difficulty that Jonas Bradlaw re- pressed a cry of terror as the guide strode di- rectly toward him, There came a revulsion of feeling as sudden as startling. Dire anger swept aside his mo- mentary terror and despair, and he leveled the revolver with a band as firm and steady as ad- amant, ‘* Guide Hackamore, halt!” Never was a man more surprised than was Hackamore Hank when that stern command rung forth. His jaw fell, and his dark face turned a sickly yellow, ‘‘Drop that hatchet and throw up your hands!” “ The order was obeyed, ‘* Now come forward!” Again Hackamore yielded submission. ** Halt!” Not three paces separated the two men, The immigrant’s dark eyes were agleam with intense scorn and loathing, and his white ominously drawn face was expressive of a relentless deter- mination, “You cur!—- you miserable, treacherous, | craver cur!” he enunciated, his low, even voice so cold and cutting, that Hackamore scarcely recognized it, ‘* You have plotted and planned and spread your death-net in vain! At the last moment its fatal meshes have been pointed out, comicbooks AS —