Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 795 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

the very start, and it was but a short time until every dollar the road-agents had left the major had changed to his side of the table. { In the wild confusion and excitement the big lamp, suspended from the ceiling, was sha*tered by a blow and the room was plunged in dark; | As a last chance, Hines pulled out his gold | ness. watch, saying as he laid it on the table: ‘*My friend, Pm going to chance that to But this lasted for only a moment, The burn- ing wick of the lamp fallingin the pool of spilled change my luck. It escaped the road-agents’ | kerosene ignited the inflammable oil, and a fingers, and wo’ll see if it slips into those of any other.” Some question as to the value of the watch was raised, and while tuis was being discussed, broad, angry flame leaped into the air almost instantly and spread out overhead along the ceiling of dry pine boards. The crowd of exvited men made a rush for the and toe watch examined, Old Soaker edged his | door, struggling and crowding, and cursing as way through the crowd to the table, piping out in a shrill tone: ‘*Say, pard, I believe that’s a snide watch— two fora V,” ‘*Any man of sense can examine it,” snap- ped Hines, nervous from his recent losses, ‘* Them’s me!” averred Soaker, reaching over and taking up tne chronometer in his dirty hand. ** You old fool!” snarled the gambler, ‘‘ you don’t know a watch from a turnip!” Soaker deliberately opened the timepiece and looked at the works inside. ‘*Stars!” he exclaimed, ‘‘don’t she flicker beaut’ful? Ain’t she a hummer? Hear her buzz! Seeher glitter! She’s a full jewel with double pistons and triple duadlums,” **Put down that watch at once, you dirty vagrant!” rdared Hines, his eyes snapping fire. ** Guess I will—into my pocket! 1t’s the very identical ‘ ticker’ L’vye been lookin’ for, pard,” respouded the bummer, drop) ing the watch into his pocket, ‘** You thief!” exclaimed the burly major, his red face changing toa black purple, while his hand dropped to the pistol he had displayed a few minutes before; ‘‘if you don’t give up that watch at once I’ll put a hole through your whisky soaked carcass!” ‘*D’ye mean it, major?” asked Old Sol, as if doubting the earnestness of the man’s threat. ‘*if you knew who you were trifling with,” retortel the gambler, * you'd drop that watch as if it were a scorpion.’ ‘*Say, major!” sharply exclaimed the ragged bummer, at the same time thrusting the muzzle of a derringer into the gambler’s face, ‘* J know you! You’re Socorro Dan, the Desert Vulture, robber, outlaw and murderer, and you’re my risoner! Hands up, Socorro, or, by the horn o’ oshua! whang she goes! l’m Kit Bandy, the Mountain Detective !” CHAPTER IV. A TERRIBLE TRAGEDY. NEVER were men more astounded than the miners of Red Ruin were by the revelation of Old Sol Soaker, the bummer, and for several long moments a dead hush reigned for once in The Magnet Saloon. . That Old Soaker was Kit Bandyin disguise would never have been accepted as true, but for the sudden transformation in the whole man. Nor were the miners any more astounded than was the outlaw, Socorro Dan, himself. Desper- ado that the Vulture of the Desert was, he seemed fairly oa dr by the surprise so sud- denly sprung upon him, Full well he knew the reputation of the Mountain Detective, and quickly realized that he was in the toils—un- masked—run down, Reluctantly the villain raised his hands above his head to avert a sudden death, involuntarily shrinking from the fierce glare of the old detect- ive’s eyes. _A soft whistle in the room and the quick step of feet broke the silence, Then the lithe figure of a little, old, smooth- faced man, who had been registered at the hotel several days under the name of Obidah Green, edged through the crowd to the rear of the out- _ law, and, before any one had time to think, he slipped a pair of handcuffs on the desperado’s upheld wrists, ‘Well done, Ichabod!” said Kit Bandy, re- moving his pistol from the outlaw’s face; ‘* well done, Mr. Flea! We've garnered in the boss robber and murderer o’ the day, the mighty Desert Vulture, the valorious Socorro Dan, the gallant Major Hines, who, I have no doubt, was in cahoots with the varmints that attacked the coach to-day.” The click of a revolver was heard in the room as the old detective finished speaking, and, straightening up, he glanced quickly over the crowd, towering a bead above those areund him. Ashe didso, a revolver rung out, a cry escaped his lips, and, staggering forward, he fell across the gambling-table, shot down by wer Sectoney escaped the li f th cry of rage é lips of the miners and knives and pistols were quickly drawn to avenge the assassination. ’ _-_--- if bereft of reason: and, by the time the last man had escaped, the whole interior of the saloon was a mass of flame, the dry pine boards and timbers burning like paper. Ichabod Flea had been swept from the room by the rush of miners, who forgot entirely the body of the old detective. But as soon as the way was clear the brave little detective resolv- ed to rescue the body of his friend from the flames, and bounded back into the burnin saloon, But, as he crossed the threshold, a bil- low of hissing flame struck him in the face and he reeled back into the open air, burned, scorch- ed and half-suffocated. r During the excitement the manacled outlaw made good his escape from both the saloom and the camp. Thecry of ‘‘ Fire!” brought the entire camp to The Magnet; but no effort was made to sub- due the flames, and by desperate work only were they prevented from spreading to other build- ings. i a few minutes’ time The Magnet was in ashes, to the deep regret of the many, and the silent joy of a few. Mayor V.ughn was sorely distressed over the death of Kit Bandy and the escape of Socorro Dan. He had taken an official pride in Red Ruin. For months the camp had been as peace- ful and quiet as an Eastern village, and he attributed it to his good government; but now, all at once, it had become the scene of startling sensations. A careful search was made for the handcuffed outlaw, but he was not to be found, He had been helped away, for there was no doubt in the mind of any one but that the man who shot Bandy, and broke the lamp, was a friend of the Desert Vulture—one of his gang, After the excitement had somewhat subsided, the mayor called on Miss Walworth. In fact, the maiden. had sent for him, for, as Harry Vaughn was a lawyer by profession, and the only one in camp, she desired some legal advice as to her father’s interest in the Jolly Jane, The young mayor was delighted with his visit at the Walworth cabin, for, wrap a her great sorrow, Florence was a most beautiful and charming young woman, in both form and fea- ture. After he had answered all questions in relation had advised her as to the legal steps to establish her heirship to the property, the subject of the stage-robbery was brought up. It had been settled in Vaughn’s mind that Major Hines, alias Socorro Dan, was in league with the road-agents; but he was not aware, until he returned, that Tac Barnes had gone to meet her with the news of her father’s death. He did know, however, that Little Fury had been sent to Leadville to act as her escort, but, of the boy, not a word had been heard since his departure. Nor did Miss Florence know aught of him. Henevercame to Leadville, she said, nor did sbe hear his name mentioned, There was some mystery about the boy’s whereabouts, and the mayor was afraid that something had happened to him, Anotber thing that troubled him was the con- tinued absence of Tom Rattler, who left camp the morning after Little Fury had started on his mission, and had not been heard of since. But, in the presence of the fair Florence, the mayor finally forgot the things that troubled his mind, and, ere he was scarcely aware of the fact, he had passed several hours in her com- any. Finally he bade her good-night and returned to his office, struck a light, and seating himself, gazed around at the bare walls, he place seemed so dreary and lonely! Something was missing. He had never felt so before, and, after some meditatien, during which the fair face of Florence Walworth kept rising before his men- tal vision, he discovered that he was no longer a heart-free man. Harry Vaughn was a man of five-and-thirty years, and was a handsome, dashing fellow, whose heart hed proved invulnerable to the darts of Cupid. Of this, it was his wont to boast; but, at la t,taken off his guard,in the Kit Bandy in Red Ruin. to her father’s interest in the Jolly Jane, and |} midst of Red Ruin’s excitement, he fell a victim to the charms of the heiress of the Jolly Jane. And he was honest enough with himself to ad- mit the fact, and, at length, turned to his desk to do some writing. Ashe did so, his eyes fell upon a slip of blue paper lying before him, He picked it up ard looked it over. There was some writing in pencil on one side, He read it, and re-read it, his face growing pale and his lips twitching asif struggling to suppress a cry ofinward pain, And this is what he read: ‘*Mayor VAvuGHN:—Keep a watch on the affairs of the Jolly Jane. The girl at Walworth’s cabin, calling herself Florence Walworth, may be an im- gree a know soon, Be on guard until you ear from Zapoc,”’ CHAPTER V, LITTLE FURY MEETS TROUBLE, IN accordance with his promise, Little Fury left Red Ruin an hour or two before daylight, and started on his mission to Leadville, No doubt, at that very hour John Walworth lay dead in his cabin, and it is pecneps well the messenger did not hear of the murder before leaving, else this story would never have been written, _Mounted upon his pony, a fleet-footed and un- tiring animal, he galloped awa oP Roaring Gulch in the darkness that precedes dawn. Finally it began to evr light on the moun- tain-tops, and by and by the lofty peaks were aflame with morning light, which gradually rolled down into the valleys and dispelled the lurking shadows and chilly breath of night. Birds flashed in and out of the sunlight and whistled and sung gleefully as the youth ambled along the lonely pass, his hat resting jauntily on the back of his head, his brown eyes flashing with the light of a free young spirit, and his boyish face beaming with the roseate hues of health and vigor. Far - Roaring Gulch, and near the mouth of Crow Wing Canyon, was a spring of clear, cold water bubbling out from beneath a great rock. Upon the face of that rock some one—a loiter- ing miner, perhaps—had cut the words Bethesda Pool, and by this name was the famous spring known to those who traveled that way as was Bethesda Pool by the walls of Jerusalem known two thousand years ago. Whoever journeyed up and down Roaring Gulch must stop there for a drink, and there Little Fury drew rein and dismounted to eat a cold lunch and slake his thirst. Leaving his horsestanding headvanced to the edge of the pool, threw off his hat and laid down upon his stomach to drink, While the youth was still in this position the figure of a man with face masked crept from the bushes to the edge of the rock overhanging the pool and there waited with cocked revolver for the boy to rise. But Little Fury was inno hurry. He knew the assassin was on the rock, He had discovered him there by his reflection in the crystal waters! and ere he scrambled slowly to his feet, he had apes out his revolver, muzzle upward, and e _A cry of pain burst from the masked villain’s lips. He tottered for a moment on the edge of the rock, lost his balance and fell at the feet of his intended victim. ** Oho! you old wolf!” exclaimed the boy, ‘you didn’t know that I saw your ugly mug in the water! I reckon you’re one of Captdin Tro- | jau’s band of outlaws that’s been warning me to leave Red Ruin.” A groan from the prostrate man’s lips told that he was not dead; so, stooping, Little Fury removed the mask from the outlaw’s face, dis- closing @ gash on the side of the head that his bullet had cut. The outlaw gazed up into the boy’s face in a dazed sort of a war ** Well, [ didn’t kill you, afte all, did I?” the boy said, as he looked upon the man with knit- ted brows; ‘‘and I’m in a study whether to fin- ish the job or Jet yougo. I know you meant to shoot me, you big brute!” A moan was all the answer. ‘*T guess ll let you go.” the boy finally de cided, ‘‘and trust to your master, Old Satan, taking you in.” Walking to his pony the boy placed one foot in the stirrup and was in the act of leaping into his saddle when a revolver was fired almost in the face of his broncho, causing the animal to start back, throwing his master to the und. . Then followed a rush of feet, and a second masked man bounded from behind a rock and seized the boy around the middle as he rose to his feet. Little Fury endeavored to draw his revolver, — A | | . - ~ . j d 5 * , Om = . z ° - ee ee ge ¥ ~~ ‘y