Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 772 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 Dick Doom’s Death-Grip. ee An oil-cloth, pair of blankets and rubber coat Were strapped to the knapsack, to which also dangled a frying-pan, tin cup and plate. A small, double-barrel shot-gun was slung over his shoulder in a free-and-easy way, a bunt- ing-knife was in his belt, and a holster doubtless held a small revolver. A haversack was swung under one arm, a lariat under the other, and, altogether, the young traveler looked like one of the boys now and then arrested on their way to the wild West to slay Indians, and which the newspapers untrutbfully say are urged torun away from home by ** Dime Novel” writers, as though there were no bad, runaway boys before Dime Novels were ever thought of! or, indeed, as if such boys ever read anything but the flash weekly papers or the semi- vicious penny dailies! But this youtb was no Indian-hunter, no ad- venture-hunting hero, He was simply going out in the world to seek his fortune, and his stock in trade he had with him, With but little money, and not being a beg- gar, he could not take a steamer to New Orleans, or ask food to be given him at the various plan- tations he passed; and so with his shot-gun, fish- ing-lines and camp outfit he fed himself as he went along. A roast potato, raw onion, some fruit, crack- ers, bacon, coffee and game furnished ample and good food, for himself and dog, He camped at night alone in the woods, his dog his sole companion, and sharing with him in rainy weather bis little tent, made of India- rubber blankets, and his bed. Thus he had traveled long and far, and yet he had enjoyed the road and the life of freedom he led. Now and then he was met by some kind per- sons who would take him to their home for a rest: but his aim was to reach New Orleans, where he hoped to obtain certain work, to ac- complish the purpose of bis life. ‘* Well, Guard, there seems to be a good camp- ing-place in those woods yonder, so there we'll stop, for I don’t feel just well to-day,” said the youth, addressing his dog, which was a large, vicious-looking bru'e, but was all humility to bis young master. Guard wagged his tail in a satisfied way, for he was carrying, strapped upon his back, a red blanket, his water-bucket and a cornet, which the boy played with rare skill, But, besides these, Guard was carrying a string of fine fish, and a couple of fat quails, which he was anxious to get his teeth into, for it was share and share alike with the dog and his master, The woods which the youth noted ran from the back country to the river-bank, and grew densely upon the levee, Up to the thicket the boy went, and in a few minutes he had pitched his tent, for the night was coming on threatening rain, with poles he cut with his batchet, and made a barrier around witb stout bushes, Leaves formed a mattress for his blankets, and being prepared against the weather, he sat down to pick his quail and scale his fish, for he had gathered some wood, and brought his tin- bucket full of water from the river, The highway ran within a hundred feet of him, and he had a view of it for some distance, from his camp, and also looked over upon the river, Suddenly his eyes fell upon a small dug-out,* coming rapidly up the river, close in to the bank, It was paddled by two rough-looking men, who, reaching a break in the bank, ran it in- shore and sprung out, The dug-out was dragged half its length out of the water; the two men ran up over the levee, and crouched down among some bushes on the edge of the highway. ‘*What game are they after, I wonder?” said the boy tramp, as he saw their mysterions ac- tions, and motioned to the dog to keep quiet. His question was almost immediately an- swered by the rumble of wheels, and, a mo- ment after, a handsome carriage, with a negro driver in livery, rolled into sight. It was drawn by two spirited horses, but who rode within the carriage the boy could not see. As it drew nearer out sprung the two men; two shots rung out, one dropping one of the horses, the other the negro from the box. In a second the two men had gained their pon for they had brought the carriage to a alt, and while one held the other horse, his n the carriage-door, companion threw o back asa shot was fired in But, he stagger * Canoe made by cutting out a log. his face; but, unburt, he returned the fire, dis- charging the weapon directly into the carriage. It was the last act of his life, as he dropped dead from a shot fired by the lad, who then boldly ran upon the other foot-pad, who turned to face him, when Guard sprung at bis throat and dragged bim to the ground, while the brave boy tramp hastened to the carriage door and cried cheerily: ‘* All right! They are both laid out.” ‘¢ What! a mere boy so bravely attack those men?” said a man’s voice in surprise, ‘*Oh, no, sir! had my dog to help me,” was the modest reply, and the boy tramp doffed his hat as he saw a lady also in the carriage, CHAPTER II. THE UNKNOWN WAIF, IN the carriage was an elderly gentleman of distinguished appearance, anddressed in the neglige style of a southern planter, He was holding his arm with one band, for the bullet of the ruffian who had fired upon him had cut through it, By hia side sat a young and very pretty little maiden of thirteen, whose face was now pale with anxiety for her father. ‘‘You are wounded, sir, and your coachman is dead, Can I take one of your horses and ride for help, for the other animal was shot?” said the boy tramp. ‘* Do so, my brave lad, with all speed; but, are both of those men dead?” | ‘Yes, sir: I shot one and Guard did for the other, ‘‘ Here, Guard! Stay here until I come back! ‘¢ Now, sir, tell me where I shall go?” ‘+ Back up the road a mile is a plantation, our home,” ‘‘[ remember it, sir, for I passed there this afternoon,” ‘‘Go and tell the servants to send for Doctor Newman, and to bring a pair of horses here with all dispatch, also a wagon to carry poor Iom’s body home,” ‘* Yes, sir,” and the boy sprung to the horse, unfastened him from the carriage, leaped upon his back and was off like the wind, In less than a half-hour he was back again and announced: ‘*T sent for the doctor, sir, to meet youat your home, and the men are coming with the car- riage, horses and wagon.” ‘‘ Thanks, my noble young friend! You have indeed rendered me invaluable service this day, for those men sought to accomplish a double act of deviltry in their attack, as they knew that I sent my daughter home from the city with a large sum of money, and they would have kid- napped her too, and forced me to pay ransom for her. ‘* Fortunately, I did not have to remain in the city, as I expected, and came with her; but you would hayé rescued her just the same had I not been along. ‘* Thank him, Marion!” ‘¢ Indeed, I do, from the bottom of my heart, papa,” and the young girl held out her gloved hand, ‘““My hands are all dirt, miss, and I’d only spoil your pretty gloves. ‘¢] was cooking my supper when I saw those fellows come up the river in their canoe, land and hide, ‘Then you came in sight, and Guard and I chipped in to help you out.” "And, nobly you did it; but, where were you?” t ‘‘In my camp yonder in the thicket on the levee, sir.” ‘ ‘Your camp?” ‘* Yes, mir.” ** You are traveling, then?” *¢'Yoe, air.” ‘* Who are you with?” ‘‘Only Guard and me, sir.” ‘‘ Why what are you, my lad?” asked Planter Grayhurst, more and more interested in the youth, ‘¢*T suppose I am a boy tramp, sir.” ‘* A boy tramp?” cried Marion Grayhurst, her large eves dilating, for a tramp of any kind was set down in her mind as a most obnoxious kind of a creature, ‘* Yes, miss,” ‘* Where is your home, my lad?” ‘* | have none, sir,” ; ** And your parents?” ** Dead.” ‘* Have you no brothers, or sisters?” ‘No, sir.” ** No kindred?” They saw his lips quiver, and he responded, after a slight hesitation, ‘*T have no relatives, sir, that care forme, I am all alone in the world.” ** My poor little waif, you shall be no longer friendless,” the planter said, with feeling. ** Yes, you shall be my dear brother,” Marion said, in her pretty way. ‘‘Ob,no! 1 must make my way in the world, thank you, for I am going to New Orleans,” ** Have you no friends, there?” *¢ No, sir.” ‘* W hat are ** Well, sir, tive,” A The planter laughed in spite of his pain, while e said: ** Well, you have done well to-day as a begin- ning, my lad; but where are you from?” ‘** Northern Mississippi, sir.” ** And have you walked thus far on your way to New Orleans?” ‘Yes, sir, for I was too poor to ride; but we have got along pretty well.” ‘Pretty well! Poor boy, you are a little hero. Where is your camp?” ‘* Yonder, sir,” and the boy pointed to the thicket. ‘Oh, papa! may I go and see it?” ** Yes, my child,” and the planter, though suf- fering, went with them. ** Well, my young friend, just strike your tent and go home with us,” **T thank you, sir, but—” ‘*] will have no excuses, for I will take you with us, Ab! there come tbe horses now, so get your traps together.” ‘*'Yes, you must come, and I'll help you pack up,” cried Marion, Thus urged, the youth obeyed. Guard had his saddle strapped on, the youth shouldered his traps and gun, aod they reached the carriage just as two negroes Came up with a pair of car- riage horses. Behind them came a wagon and acouple more men. “Well, boys, we were attacked here by those two men, and but for this brave youth—” , ‘* And my dog.” ‘‘ Yes, and his dog, I would have been killed and robbed, and Miss Marion carried off, ‘‘ Poor Tom was shot, as you see, so get his body into the wagon, and two of you stay with those dead robbers until I can send the constable to take charge of them. ‘* Now, my lad, you go with us,” ‘‘[’m not fit, sir, so let me ride up with the driver.” ‘* No, into the carriage with us you go, my lit- tle waif, and you are to understand that you have laid the fvundation of your fortune this day. ‘*Drive on, Aleck,” and the carriage rolled rapidly away, Guard trotting behind, in utter amazement atthe fact that his young master was not afoot ou going to do?” thought I would be a boy detec- CHAPTER IIL, IN LUCK, THE Ferns was one of the finest plantations up on the river, and situated within driving dis- tance of New Orleans, For over a century the Grayhursts bad lived there, and the estate had increased in value un- til it was most valuable, The old mansion was large, with wings and extensions, piazzas and rooms that were commo- dious and comfortable, Flowers innumerable, orange trees, magnolias and live-oaks surrounded the mansion, while afar in the rear were the quarters of the field hands, the sugar mill and the outbuildings, Such was the house which the young waif found himself ushered into, and received as an honored guest. sere Newman had not yet arrived, so the boy said: ‘‘T have had some experience with wounds, sir, and may be able to help you until the doctor arrives,” ‘*T shall place myself in your hands, my lad, for itis still bleeding, and somehow you inspire me with a great deal of confidence,” said Colonel Grayburst, who was a gallant soldier of the exican war. F The boy set to work at once and did dress the wound quite skillfully and with a nerve that showed he was not one to flinch at sight of blood, ; * Now, my lad, I’ll tell you just what you are to do,” said tbe colonel. és Yes, sir,” ‘This is my home, and here | live with my two children, Marion, whom you have seen, a my son Gordon, who is older than you are by | ! Tas ' Pret ‘ i role) ’ ' Mm