Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 90 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 tenance and enhance his good looks. But there was, nevertheless, a sort of haughtiness-about him which would not strike a stranger favora- bly; however, this, upon closer acquaintance, would seem to wear away, and he would be- come a true friend, but as an enemy he was to be dreaded. He had his faults as well as other men, and most prominent among them. was the pride he possessed in his skill as a marks- man. Nothing would wound his feelings, or excite his enmity so quickly as to depreciate his skill with the rifle. His friends knew this, and, accordingly, never spoke of his marks- manship, except to praise. A man of a reckless devil-may-care air, with a character as varied as the changes of nature; a man of indomita- ble will and iron resolution; a man of the’ peculiar stamp so often found in border life;— such was Curt Dash, the leader of the Regula- tors. Dash took his position upon the shooting- stand; and, or eae taking careful and deliberate aim, sent a ball crashing through the target. Scarcely had the report of his rifle died away, when eager friends seized the target and brought it forward for the inspection of the crowd; he had made the best shot of the day. The edge of the bullet had cut the center mark. So absorbed was the assembly in examining the target, and praising the skill of their leader that no one saw the approach of a horseman, till suddenly a loud laugh rung out upon the air; and looking up they beheld, standing scarcely a rod from them, a strange horseman. He was a man of medium size, and with a frame compactly built. There was nothing in his dress to excite wonder; but there was some- thing in his wild looks not to be forgotten. Once he may have been handsome; but that day was past. His skin, naturally dark, was tanned and sun-burned till it was of an hlmost blackened hue; his hair, which had been jet black, was now of an iron-gray, hanging down over his shoulders in long, tangled masses, In his full black eyes, which seemed to pierce the observer through and through, burned deep the slumbering fires of insanity. His quite prominent nose, was the only feature that re- mained unmarred. But, as if to make up for “bis lenity, time had placed a terrible disfigure- ment upon his face, in the shape of a huge, blood-red scar, which extended diagonally across his right cheek, adding an awful expres- sion to his otherwise wild and unnatural ap- pearance. And, not seeming satisfied with what Nature and Time and, perhaps, something else had done for him, he wore, as if to lend additional terror to his looks, a heavy, fierce- looking, coal-black mustache, whose flowing ends fell down upon his breast. He was mounted upon a powerfully built, fleet-footed, dark-roan steed, which, like its rider, apparently was endowed with a wild, restless spirit.. The stranger’s only weapon of defense was a long, heavy, dark-stained, single-barreled rifle, which he handled with the skill of an experi- enced rifleman. The silence which had fallen upon the crowd was broken by the strange horseman exclaim- ing: ‘¢ What have you there?” “A specimen of my skill with the rifle,” answered Curt, seizing the target and holding it before the stranger. “Bah!” exclaimed the horseman, contempt- nously, hardly deigning to notice the board, “you don’t boast of such shooting as that I 4 “It would puzzle that rusty barrel of yours to beat it!” exclaimed Curt. “It would be nothing to boast of,” answered the stranger, with a scornful laugh, which sent Dash’s hot blood tingling through his veins. “We should like to see some of your vaunt- ed skill. Dare you show it?” - “Tam always ready toprove my words, and if I don’t beat that bungling shot, my finger shall never press the trigger again.” ‘Enough said, stranger,” cried Curt; ‘‘ now we only want the proof. Here, Trask,” he added, turning to one of the Regulators, “ put The Dread Rider. up another targef, and we'll seeif we are going to be outdone by this unnamed braggart.” The crowd had maintained silence, watching the scene with strange interest, and .then the Regulators gathered around their leader with words of encouragement. Trask soon announced the target ready, when the stranger turned in his saddle, as if going to shoot without dismounting. | ‘‘ What! not going to dismount?” demanded one of the Regulators. | ‘‘No! I always shoot from the horse,” re- plied the stranger, turning his roan half round, as he spoke, when it was seen for the first time that he was maimed. His left leg was gone above the knee! Turning his horse back to its former pos tion, the unknown brought his rifle to shoulder, and, for an ivstant, the livid scar upon his cheek was. pressed upon its stock; then, a sharp, ringing report. . » The target was quickly seized and brought forward: the stranger’s bullet had driven the center-cross clear out. Curt Dash’s shot was fairly beaten! Curt Dash stood motionless as a statue, the color coming and going from his face, his gaze fixed intently upon his strange victor; then in a calm, measured tone he said: ‘It was a chance shot. You can’t do it again, Mister One Leg. I will wager my rifle!” ‘‘Pshaw!” cried the stranger, ‘‘ because you can’t shoot you think it something wonderful. I can do it a thousand times, without once missing. Put up that board again, twice as far off as before, and I will show you something worth boasting about.” . While a new target was being put up, One Leg commenced to reload his rifle; but, in the act of taking a bullet from his pouch, it slipped from his fingers and dropped to the earth. One of the regulators picked it up, and no- ticed that it was of a peculiar color; and after hastily examining it, exclaimed: ‘‘A copper bullet, as true as Iam a living sinner!” ‘“‘-Yes,” answered the man of mystery, while a strange light lit up his features, making him look like a smiling demon; “J always uss cor per bullets |” ‘¢ Ah!” exclaimed an cld mountaineer, known as Gil Rey, of Rocky Mountain fame, ‘‘none but Greasers and cowardly sneaks use poison bullets.” 2 One Leg bestowed upon him a look of ma- : lignant scorn, then turned to his rifle, when again that frightful scar pressed upon its stock; again the sharp spang, and again the copper bullet cut clear the center-cross! ‘‘Now, boaster, are you satisfied?” asked he of the roan steed, as the excited company ex- amined the board. ‘‘By heavens!” cried Curt Dash, fiercely, as, goaded to desperation, he no longer tried to control his passion; ‘‘this is but boy’s. play! You can’t shoot like that before the-muzzle!” “My rifle never fails me,” retorted the other, quickly, ‘‘whether pointed at a board or a yelping cur.” ‘By lightning, Cap!” cried one of the Reg- ulators, burly Hank Webber, whose gigantic form towered head and shoulders above all the others, as he pushed through the crowd toward the stranger, vefore Curt had time to speak or act, “let me go for the wall-eyed cuss! No man can talk that language here and live, while ’'m ’round!” “Hold on, Hank!” cried Curt; “I think I can handle Mister One Leg, if he did beat me at the target. It is my quarrel, and I must have the first try.” ‘Well, Cap, I s’pose it will have to be as. you say, but I should like to git one lift at him,” replied the giant, withdrawing “Stranger,” cried the Regtlator chief, turn. ing to the horseman, ‘you have insulted me; I demand satisfaction. I challenge you to meet me before the muzzle. If you are not a coward, you will accept.” Without seeming to notice the hot words of the angry Texan, the stranger commenced to é \ reload bis rifle, not appearing to know or care that there was ascore of men in that excited band only waiting a word from their leader to rush upon him and rend him limb from limb. As soon as his rifle was carefully loaded, the Unknown, asif enjoying the terrible suspense, turned slowly upon Curt, saying: “Very well, my obliging bantam, I am ready for you, now /” ‘‘Not now!” cried Curt. ‘TI am not pre- pared. But in the morning I will be ready for you; and will meet you on this place.” “All right,” said the stranger; “any way to accommodate, But, remember, I must meet you upon horse,” and he pointed to his. missing leg, significantly. “Tt matters not to me how I meet you.” ‘‘As I am a stranger in this place, perbaps. som of you will be kind enough to tell me where I can find food for my horse and lodg- ing for myself to-night,” said the stranger. “You will find all you want at Burley’s Prairie Home,” answered Mark Waring. ‘‘A part of us are going there now, and you cam accompany us.” The shooting match had come to a sudden and unexpected end. - CHAPTER IL THE DUEL, AN ordinary duel on the Texas border was only of passing momert; but this one between the Regulator chief and the one-legged stranger was of more than common importance; and the next day’s rising sun beheld men gathering from every quarter, till such a multitude was upon the spot as had never been seen on Chester Border. All of Chesterville was there, and from neighboring sections of the county, to which the news had spread like wildfire, parties had congregated, all amxiously waiting for the appearance of the duelists, who had not yet arrived. The crowd was not kept in suspense long, for soon the dashing, handsome figure of Curt Dash, upon his spirited bay gelding, was seen approaching at a smart canter; and but a short distance behind came the mysterious One Leg, erect as a centaur upon his powerful, dark- red roan. The arrival of the duelists was the signal for action, as the appointed time was up; and while the curious spectators were watching the strange horseman, and admiring the coolness and splendid bearing of the Regulator chief, Gil Rey and Mark Waring, who had been chosen to act as seconds, were measnring off the ground, and making other preparations for the coming combat. When every thing was in readiness, the par- ties were requested to take their position, which was to be about sixty yards apart, each turned back to the other; and after counting the usual number, three, Gil Rey was to give the word for them to turn and fire as they advanced. If the first attempt should fail to unhorse one or both, it was to be repeated, for they could fire but once at a time, as the stranger carried a single-barreled rifle. Curt Dash had already made arrangements: with his friends to see that his few last re- quests should be faithfully executed, in case he should fall, and was now impatient to have the affair over. But the Unknown seemed regard- less of what the consequences might be to him, and was about to silently take his position, when his second, Mark Waring, reminded him. of it by saying: “Stranger, as your second in this affair, I feel it my duty to ask if you have no last re- quest to make, for, not knowing what the re- sult may be, it is best to be prepared for the worst. Anything you desire I will do, if you will make it known.” . “Thank you, friend, if I can take the lib- erty to call you such,” answered the other; ‘I have one request to make. If I fall, please see that my body has proper burial. I wish that I may lie by the edge of yonder chapar- oe ie) EGomic S) “