Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 90 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

ea - mun. haps that will give some explanation,” ————~—~——I—IU—IVIVI—T—IEE—EET CHAPTER XXVI. THE DEAD DEAD AT LAST! SPELLBOUND the anxious crowd watches the approaching riders as they rapidly near them. No one thinks now of the outlaw; and thus he is permitted an unexpected reprieve. The woman is certainly Bessie Raymun; and though it brings joy to relatives and friends, it is hushed by the appearance of the other. In every look and bearing the man is the exact prototype of their friend, Curt Dash, now no more. Has the Regulator chief come back from the grave? ‘‘ It is Curt Dash, or I’m a trapped beaver!” exclaims Gil Rey. ‘¢ Tt is Curt Dash!” cries the crowd. There is no disputing the fact. “A pleasant morning to all!” greets the Regulator chief, with a smiling countenance. In the scene which follows eager friends and relatives press around the returned couple, in untsigned joy. | . “Thank God! thank God, Bessie! you have been spared to return unharmed!” cries the nearly overjoyed father, as he presses his daughter to his breast. ‘* Yes, father; through the bravery of Cap- tain Dash.” “Right, Bessie!” and the colonel turns to grasp the Regulator’s hand. ‘‘ Ah, Colonel Raymun, you see that I have kept my word,” says Curt, as “he other holds his hand. “Most nobly, Captain Dash, most nobly!” cries the colonel enthusiastically; *‘ but, explain to me one thing, captain: how in the named of Heaven do I behold you here in flesh an blood, when I saw you less than an hour ago lying on Chester plain, dead?” ‘‘Beg pardon, colonel, but I do not under- stand you. You speak in riddles.” Then ina few, hurried words the colonel tells him what has transpired—how they had found a lifeless body on the plain, food for vultures, and positively identified it as his. ‘¢ There is some mistake,” replies Curt as the other finishes; ‘‘of course it could not have been me,” “Then, who was it?’ ‘‘T must plead ignorance,” answers Curt; ‘having never seen my counterpart, I am in the dark as to his identification.” ‘“‘A truce to this!” exclaims Colonel Ray- ‘‘Let’s have the captain’s story; per- “T assure you I can throw no light on the mystery,” declares Curt; “ besides, I have but a little to tell,” he adds modestly. Seeing that his story is really desired, how- ever, the Regulator chief narrates it as fol- lows: ' “T had not gone far, after leaving the Prairie Home, before the horse which I had taken, Deckers’ bay, as my own had been taken by the outlaw, began to grow uneasy and almost refused to advance, snorting, rearing, plunging furiously, so that it was with the greatest difficulty I could manage him at all. “ At last, thinking something must be wrong about his bit, I dismounted, to arrange it more satisfactorily, and if possible to remove the trouble, when, with a sudden jerk, he fr eed his head, and wheeling, galloped madly back, leaving me afoot on the plain. ; “Knowing it would be useless to continue on foot, I was coming back, when suddenly, as if a God-send, I saw a stray horse on the prairie not faraway. He was all saddled and bridled, and with but little trouble I succeeded in catch- ing him. This isthe same one, and I am in clined to think he had been ridden by the man whose body you thought was mine, ‘‘Qnce more mounted, I turned toward the Red Lands, and nothing interrupted my course again until I neared the border, when, as if arising from the earth, the Dead Duelist stood before me. “My first thought upon beholding the ap- parition, was to turn and flee; but I saw that he meant to shoot me, and I knew I could not escape by flight. Suddenly a thought flashed The Dread Rider. through my mind, and as quickly as possible . raised my rifle, and, aiming directly at hi head, instead of his body as we have alway. done before, fired, just before he brought hi: weapon to a level, ‘* Boys, after having seen that demon baffle us sO many times, you can judge of my sur- prise and satisfaction, when I saw him drop his long rifle undischarged, and fall from his roan, dead !” At this juncture, the hushed stillness which has fallen upon the crowd, is suddenly broken by a prolonged shout of triumph, repeated again and again, till every throat seems to echo the joyful cry. ‘*This,” continues Curt, as soon as he can make himself heard, ‘‘ proves that he was mor tal; and now I am pasitive he was one of Black Wayne’s outlaws. ‘Soon after, I ran upon a couple of the out- laws fleeing with Miss Raymun; and by a sud- den attack, I succeeded in rescuing her, though both of the desperadoes escaped.” No one in all the crowd has been a more at- tentive listener to the Regulator’s story than the doomed outlaw under the live-oak; and as Curt mentions the shooting of the mysterious rider, a deathly pallor overspreads his features, and an involuntary cry escapes his lips. ‘*Come, men!”.cries the captain, as the storm of applause which succeeds his narrative dies away; ‘‘I am going to accompany Colonel Raymun and his daughter to their home, so finish your work; and then Chesterville will indeed be free. All is right that ends well.” Again the men turn to their prisoner, and once more eager, willing hands seize the rope, ‘This for Rock Randel and Mark Waring!” cries True Bill, as with others he grasps the fatal cord, A shrill, piercing cry suddenly splits the air, almost causing the executioners to pause, Bessie Raymun, who has refused to leave the place with her father, uttered the scream, as if terrified at the fearful proceedings. ** Hold!” a clear, ringing voice commands, ‘there is a horseman coming,” Who made the declaration none know; but as if by magic, the gaze of all is turned to the west, when a horseman is seen coming down by the chaparral growth. ‘‘By heavens!” cries Curt Dash, ‘‘it is the outlaws coming to rescue their leader! Quick, for your lives, men! Swing the wretch, and prepare for a defense!” “But look, Captain Dash!” almost shrieks Bessie; ‘‘ he is waving a signal!” ‘Only a ruse,” cries the Regulator chief, ‘Do your work, men, ere it is too late.” No need to repeat the injunction of haste, as the men at the rope are not sluggards. Ere the words reach their ears, their vise-like gri) is upon the cord with fatal certainty; and, as it receives their strength, the outlaw, with a spasmodic groan, feels the noose tighten, He tries to speak, but a sickening, strangling sen- sation chokes his utterance, as he feels himself drawn into mid-air, But at this critical moment, a light form bursts through the crowd, and Bessie Raymun, flushed with excitement, reaches the doomed man’s side; and hastily cocking a revolver, just snatched from Curt Dash’s belt, she levels it full at the foremost of the half-dozen men holding the rope, exclaiming, in a clear, sharp voice: ‘‘ Hold there! or you die!” A moment, the furious mob is held at bay by a woman’s heroism. ‘ CHAPTER XXVIL MYSTERY UPON MYSTERY, THE men at the rope unconsciously relax their hold, and the cutlaw falls back against the tree, his mind bewildered, hardly realizing the turn affairs have taken. With flashing eye, the heroic girl holds in abatement the fury of the raging throng. There is no mistaking her determination; but calm and stern as she is brave and beautiful, the hot-headed mob is 19 defied, yet swayed by the charm of her very audacity. But quickly the spell is broken. “Fools!” fairly shrieks Curt Dash, ‘ will you be balked by a woman?” Enraged by the taunt, the men, corgetting everything in their furious haste, hesitate no ° longer. Colonel Raymun is rushing through the crowd to rescue his daughter from her dan- ger, <A crisis is imminent, when, like a shot, the towering form of Gil Rey breaks from the surging mass, and, with a bound, he is under the giant oak; when his long rifle, instantly sweeping the circle of anxious spectators, is brought to bear upon the half-dozen men as- suming the duties of hangmen. ‘Quit thet, ye cusses, afore I lay ye out, I reckon old Gil Rey don’t stand round an’ see a gal show sich spunk es thet and not help her out, ‘Sides, thar is but one horseman comin’, an’ he is slingin’ a truce, It ar’ jess our dooty to wait an’ see what ther chap wants, It can’t do enny hurt, ef ‘+ don’t do enny good. So what the gal said I will back up. Still, right whar ye are, fer we are goin’ ter wait. Keep up yer narves, Miss Bessie, I reckon we are enough fer the hull caboodle.” At last! The steely glitter of his eyes, and his de- meanor tell that Gil Rey is not in armood to be trifled with, ‘“What means this?’ cries Curt Dash, spur- ring forward through the crowd, ‘‘{ reckon it means biz’ness, cap’en,” replies the mountaineer, coolly facing his leader. ‘But consider what you are doing, Gil. This is no time for fooling. The men have a stern duty to perform, and it ill behooves you to interfere, You are periling your own life merely to prolong for a few minutes that of a cursed outlawed felon,” The prisoner, who has somewhat recovered from his shock, turns toward the Regulator chief as if intending to speak; but his gaze wanders from his foe to the horseman coming over the plain, when, suddenly, his counte- nance is radiant with joy, and a murmured ‘‘Thank God!” escapes his lips. ‘‘T reckon this coon hain’t footing, but he’s in dead ’arnest; jess standin’ up fer the right. I’m thinkin’ thar ar’ some other chaps in dan- gr, sides myself. Leastway, thar am ef they don’t mind the word. I tell yer, cap’en, I’m goin’ to stand by the gal whether she’s right or wrong, cf I git rubbed out fer it,” ‘Don’t blame me, then, if you get yourself into trouble. Here, some of—” Glancing out upon the prairie, Curt suddenly sees the fast-approaching rider. A moment he watches him with intense interest; and then avery bit of color leaves his face, and he alm falls from his saddle, exclaiming simply in unnatural voice: ‘* Good God!” Almost startled by the captain’s sudden an mysterious actions, the crowd, which has been watching the scene under the oak, looks out upon the plain, upon the oncoming horseman, ~ ‘‘Good heavens! it can’t be! it can’t be!” ex- claims Curt Tis only a horseman, sweeping like the wind over Chester plain. Only a horseman! yet enough to make the brave Regulator chief tremble and turn pale! enough to startle all Shelby! Jt is the Dead Duelist! “it is he! it is he!” gasps Curt, ‘I must out of this, or I am lost! lost!” Then, with a wild, despairing look, he tries to force his way through the amazed crowd. But none appear to notice him, and slowly they turn away for him to pass; so slowly that it seems as if he will never get beyond the throng which hems him in upon every side. | How different the approach of the other. As if life and death are in the balance the fleet-footed roan is bearing his master on. Erect in his seat, looking like a wild centaur, the strange rider presses him on faster and faster, till, with flowing mane and streaming tail, he almost seems to fly. Only an instant, with unchecked speed the crowd is reached; then, as the amazed spectators spring aside, the gallant steed, all flecked with foam, and Eomicbooks GO