Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 755 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

Gold-Dust Dan’s Oath. “Hal ha! ha! ho! bo! ho! and tben the grave!” Revenge, oh Lord! An uncanny screech followed that strange, | wild outburst, rising high above the warring | sounds at that moment making night hideous; a | screech so intensely fierce and vindictive that it might well bave chilled the stoutest heart, and the more terrible in that it came from the lips | of a beautiful woman! Beautiful—yes! though garbed in buckskin and armed like a desperadu—tbough the lithe, exquisitely-molded form hinted the tigress in its graceful sinuous swaying. The dark Hebrew face was one, once seen, never to be fergotten; and, for all the hard lines imposed by care and grief, was yet weirdly beautiful, with its warm tints, lustrous hazel eyes'and pearly teeth. But the crowning glory of the strange crea- ture—the distinguishing mark by which she might bave been singled out from among ten thousand—was her hair, Thick, soft, luxuriant, it fell almost to her feet in rippling tresses of silvery white | W hence she came or who she was, no one, per- haps, in all that wild region knew. She had frequently been seen sweeping over the plains or threading the mazes of the hills, now here, now there, but always at night; and on two or three occasions, mounted on her noble, milk-white horse and leading a pack-mule, sbe had ridden boldly into some of the more isolated camps to purchase supplies, in each instance making pay- ment therefor in virgin gold. ** She’s pot a pay-streak somewhere back in ther hills,” the miners could not help thinking when this latter fact had been made known, and some of the more unscrupulous had attempted to trail her to her hiding-place, but in vain, As Roving Ruth she had come to be known, and the superstitious held her in awe as one pos- sessed of powers more than mortal, while others believed her the victim of some dire calamity which had wrecked her mind and driven her forth an aimless wanderer, That this latter view was not far from cor- rect, tae words we have heard fall from her lips attest At the moment we introduce this beautiful mystery to the reader, she was seated upon the bare back of her great white stallion, just with- ‘in the northern borders of the motte wherein the ill-fated Bradlaw train had encountered Red Panther’s desperate clan, and as that wild cry pealed from her lips she urged the horse toward the scene of the conflict then raging, Her dark eyes burned and glittered with a savage light, and her face, now stern and cruel in.its look of desperate resolution, wore the wax- en pallor of death, Straight upon the horde of outlaws she charged, the sharp notes of the revolver in each hand add- ing to the din and confusion, each bullet speed- ing true to its billet, her deadly aim no less than her deathly appearance carrying fear and terror to the hearts of the plundering wretches, ‘‘ Curse the she-devil!” uttered a boarse voice, as a tall man in scarlet leapedforward, ‘* Seize her, boys! A thousand dollars to the man who takes her dead or alive!” A burst of mocking, ¢lfish laughter,'a parting shot at the nearest of her foes, a repetition of that unearthly cry which had signalized her fu- rious onslaught, and the beautiful mystery wheeled her horse and darted away with the speed of the wind, followed by shot after shot. Out of the motte and straight across the plain coursed the gallant stallion, the lithe form of Roving Ruth swaying and bending with supple grace, her long white hair streaming like a ba . ner in the breeze, Far out in the prairie a brawny warrior start- ed Up. lariat in hand, a look of triumph on bis = ed face—a look that quickly changed to error and dismay as the great white horse charged straight upon him with scream after scream of furious rage. Frozen with fear, the wretch dropped the lariat and turned to flee, As well might be have attempted to elude a thunderbolt, Down upon him thundered horse and rider, crushing him to the earth—mangled, - lifeless! Then on toward a dark, cone-shaped mass looming through the bazy moonlight to the art west swept the noble animal, straight as a ies, Away from the scenes of strife, alone in the great wild, the mood of his rider changes, The cold, hard lines disappear from her face, leaving naught but womanly beauty, tinged with sad- ness and anxiety; the dark eyes lose their vicious glow, and beam with a soft, lustrous light, TT we vt ‘em the sleeper at the foot of Owl Butte, and he sprung to his feet, rifle in hand. ‘*What is it, good Prince?” he exclaimed, bounding lightly to the side of the animal, bis dark eyes sweeping the plain. ‘* Aha! a borse and rider—the horse white, the rider a woman! Hornets! I believe it’s the Black Hills’ mystery, Roving Ruth}? A moment’s scrutiny served to strengthen this belief in the keen-eyed young ranger. ‘* By Heaven! she has sighted us, Prince, and is riding this way,” he continued, after a long look at the weird rider, ‘‘Come! we will meet her, even though rumor hasit that Roving Ruth is ever the bearer of bad tidings,” Hastily putting the trappings on bis horse, the ranger mounted and spurred out into the plain, eager to meet the beautiful mystery face to face, A balf-mile from the foot of the butte he drew rein and respectfully lifted his hat as the woman came to a balta rod away. For a moment the two eyed each other in si- lence. The youth was the first to speak. “Pardon me, lady, if the 4 reser seems im- pertinent, but are you not Roving Ruth?’ be asked, ‘*T am that unfortunate being,” was the low- voiced reply. ‘* And you?” ‘*Tam Daniel Deerfoot, better known in the camps and on the trails as Gold-Dust Dan.” ** Gold-Dust Dan!” The woman started slight- ly as she repeated the name, and regarded the youth with strange intentness, ‘‘I have heard that name, but never a word of evil of it!” The ranger bowed. ; *‘T am glad to hear that,” he remarked, with a slight smile. ‘‘ But you convince me that you have encountered only my friends,” . ‘** No, no!” cried the woman, sbaking her head, “‘T take the report of your enemies—the worst enemies on honest man could bavein this lawless region—Red Panther’s clan! ‘They have been forewarned of and every cut-throat in the band kill you on sight\” ** Aba! you interest me, lady—” ‘*Call me Ruth,” interposed the strange crea- ture, urging her horse closer to that of the ran- ger, ** As you will, Ruth,” Dan returned, again in- clining his head. ‘*May I ask when you beard this?” | “Two nights since Red Panther announced your coming and put a price on your head, And I warn you, Gold-Dust Dan, to becn your guard! The outlaw chief is powerful, and has spies in every quarter,” “Thank you, Ruth. tle game against me.” ** You will need to be wary to do that,” Rov- ing Ruth averred, earnestly. ‘* Let me tell you, Gold-Dust Dan, that even now you may be under the eye of some of his minions. Less than an hour ago the wretches fell upoa and destroyed a wagon train five or six miles to the south, and as it is their custom to break up into parties of twos and threes the better to escape pursuit after the perpetration of such an atrocity, you are likely to run afoul of some of the band at any moment,” ** Again I thank you, Rutb,” the ranger de- clarec. ‘“* Your warning shall not pass unheed- ed. But you—are you not in danger?” pe woman Jaughed, and her dark eyes kin- e . ‘‘ Have no fears for me, Gold-Dust Dan!” she cried, ‘And now—farewell!” Like an arrow from the bow the great white horse darted away, defying pursuit, urged sim- ply by the the tapping of a hand, | Gold-Dust Dan gazed after her a moment, then touched spur to Prince, and ata swift, tireless lope rode toward the south, his keen eyes sweep- ing the prairie abead, bis brow knitted im thought. ‘* And so Roving Ruth is no camp-fire myth,” he mused, ‘‘ Nor is she the creature rumor paints her—a fierce destroying angel, as wild and untamed as the veriest savage. No, no! she is one who has suffered, for her face is sad, her eyes mournful, If chance— ** Aha!” Back upon his haunches wént the horse, under the firm hand of his rider, and Gold-Dust Dan looked long and steadily toward the southwest, where a dull red glow roseagainst the hazy hori- ZO, ‘* The devils have finished their work and fired the train,” he muttered, grimly, ‘* Come, Prince —that_is the point for us, for there we shall strike Red Panther’s trail,” | Straight toward the ominous light spurred the our coming, as orders to I will try to spoil bis lit- _ A shrill whinny from the black borse aroused | ranger, his face set and resolute, every sense ¢ 5 alert, for he knew that deadly peril lay before him, in due course the fatal timber island was reached, and riding into the shadows of the northern border a thorough search through the motte convinced him that the last of the outlaw cohort bad devarted, and he rode on to the scene of the tragedy--now marked by onlya faint glow from the smoldering embers of the wagons, That the struggle bed been most desperate, was attested by the grim evidences strewn on every band. Ambushed and beset by a murder- ous horde outnumbering them three to one, the immigrants bad rallied and fought witb a fierce- ness born of hopeless despair, going down with weapons in band and no cry for quarter. Men and horses lay dead on every side—-the men stripped of weapons and valuables, the borses of their trappings. Gold-Dust Dan shuddered as he gazed about him. Nowhere was a sign of life visible. It was a heart-rending spectacle, Leaking from his borse, from form to form he slowly made his way, scanning each cold, dis- torted face, ‘*The head-devil has again escaped, though bis men suffered most severely,” the young ranger muttered, as he drew near the end of the ghastly line. ‘*‘May the fates preserve bim for the hangman’s noose!” ** Amen !” In a low, deep voice came that one word. Gold-Dust Dan started, and his bands sought the revolvers in bis belt, ‘*Save your lead, boy,” continued that husky voice, and a gray-haired man at the end of the line slowly raised himself upon his elbow. ‘Were I an outlaw, I would be powerless to harm you. I bave my death-wound, ‘This way—quick, for I infer you are an eneniy to Red Panther, and as such I would speak with you.” In a moment the young ranger was bendin over the speaker. That the stricken man ha but a few minutes to live was apparent ata glance. His life-blood was ebbing away thrcugh a number of gaping wounds; the gray pallor of death was upon bis face, and bis eyes were fast glazing. ‘Your name?’ gasped the stricken immigrant, * Daniel Deerfoot known as Gold-Dust Dan!” **Mine is Jonas Bradlow. I was the head of the ill-fated party destroyed here by Red Panther; and, Daniel Deerfoot, I leave you a mission to perform—a mission of revenge and restitution, attended with a golden reward! Listen.” Lower sunk the voice of the dying man, and as the words came hurriedly from bis livid lips, Gold-Dust Dan listened with deepest interest, his dark eyes kindling with a wrathful glow, And truly it was a story to excite the warmest sympathies of the young knight-errant of the plains—a story of ambition thwarted, treachery and death! Only too soon the low, husky strains ceased; the gray head sunk back, and an ominous rattle came from the bearded throat. Too soon, and yet Jonas Bradlow bad lived to make clear the situation—to enlist in the cause of the bapless Media a champion, gallant and true! ' The smoldering embers flared up, and as the light flickered across the face of the old immi- grant, he suddenly hfted his head, ‘* Swear it, boy !—swear you'll not desert poor Media—that you'll stand between her and her foes!” he cried, raising his appealing eyes to the stern visage of the youth, “Swear it, upon your honor!” “‘T swear it, sir, upon my honor!” was the deep- toned response. ‘‘ Media Bradlaw’s cause shall be my cause until she is safe and her wrongs are righted!” A gasp, a faint sigh of relief, and the soul of the immigrant winged its flight, Sternly, sadly, Gold-Dust Dan gazed down into the lifeless face. ‘*The dastards!” he muttered, turning away. ** Let them have a care, for as sure as there is a God in heaven, Dan Deerfoot will strike them down!” Out of the darkness came a lurid flash, follow- ed by asharp report. With a single agonized groan, the young ranger reeled and fell, the vic- tim of a lurking assassin! * ee PTER V. ROY’S PRIZE. CH RECKLES “HEAVEN help me! I know not which way to turn!” } | The words burst from Media Bradlaw’s li and she drew rein, a look of terrorin her en eyes, | ~~ eomicboc ‘ : F te : i 4 4 ty oA