Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 917 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

Flash Lightning, the Mountain Mascot. dealt him a kick that seemed to lift him into the air. Then began an exciting and ludicrous scene, Jerry flying and howling with pain and terror, Fiash following and kicking with the vigor of a young colt, lifting his victim from the ground atevery kick. ‘‘f'm a ghost, am I?’ he roared. ‘“‘I’m a spirit? Then I’m a materialized one. See if that ain’t flesh and blood!” And he kicked Jacobs with a vim that sent him on hands and feet over a rock, reuding his clothes in a dozen places. Yelling, in wilder terror than ever, Jacobs bounded like a rubber-ball to his feet and dash- ed forward again, followed closely by his infuri- ated persecutor. The chase had now brought them pear to Pay- rock, and soon they were dashing through its principal street, affording an unusual spectacle to the inhabitants, who flocked from house, store and saloon to see the unwonted race, Down the street Jacobs rushed, howling. Down the street Flash followed, kicking, Both were too preoccupied to see where they were or notice that a crowd of people were following them with shouts and laughter. ‘*Go it, spindle-shanks! Tally-ho!” cried one laughing townsman., ‘* Fetch bim, Flash! other. ‘* Five to one on Flash!” 8 ‘* Done! Spindle’ll wind him,” ‘*There was a royal kick, He lifted him five feet that lick !” ‘* Bet you a pony it wasn’t more than three!” ‘*They’re heading toward the old quarry. They’ll both go over,” ‘Hey, Flash, ’ware the quarry! ’Ware, lad, there’s danger ahead!” Such were some of the cries of the pursuing crowd, all of whose sympathies were with Flash, none with the terror-stricken wretch ahead, But, deaf to it all, Jacobs dashed madly awa from the supposed ghost behind him, and Flas kept furiously on his track, lifting him with his boot-toe at every ten paces, And now, just before them, yawned the cavity of the disused quarry of which the townsmen had given warning—a sheer descent of thirty feet, near the rodd-side, Ina minute more they stood on the dangerous brink, Here one last kick from Flash’s foot lifted Jacobs into the air, and down he went like a shot into the quarry. Only the send-back from his kick prevented Flash from following bim. Henowstood on the brink, breathing heavily from his exertions, his face still hot with rage, ‘* What have you done, Flash?” cried the fore- Sagi townsmen. ‘‘ You have killed the fel- ow. ‘*Tf I have, it’s a good job,” he fiercely re- lied. ‘‘There’s no such good luck, hang him! he bushes have saved his ugly carcass.” It was as he had said. The disused quarry was grown up with a thicket of bushes, into whose midst Jacobs had fallen, and among which he was now scrambling, still wild with terror, and scratching bis bared flesh till the blood trickled in a hundred rills. ‘* The poor devil! Let’s get him out o’ that.” ** Leave him alone!” retorted Flash. “ He has not got half what he deserved.” 7 your if [’d been kicked like him, I’d thought it fair play for murder,” laughed one of the townsmen. ‘‘I never, saw such a jack-rab- bit chase in my life. What did he do, Flash?” ‘Tried to murder me, thecur! He got be- bind me and pushed me off of Brown’s Nose, in- to Ransom Pond below,” ‘*The deuce he did! And you alive to tell it! Why, it’s two hundred feet dead down, if it’s a ard, ‘* There’s something in knowing how to fall,” answered Flash. ‘‘I struck the water feet first, and went down like a stone. Lucky it was deep there, for 1 must have gone fifty feet under wa- ter. What Flash said may explain his marvelous escape. Thecrash which Jacobs had heard was that of a stone dislodged in the fall, Fortunate- ly he had pushed his victim so bard that Flash’s body shot out clear beyond the rocks and struck the water feet first as it happened. He had risen and swum ashore safeand sound, and was resting there when the brace of villains came to seek ° ‘* Why,shoot it all, that means murder!” cried one of the townsmen, excitedly. ‘*Do you pa . murder witha kicking? Let’s lynch the hound, oy.’ ‘* Lynch him! Lynch him!” echoed others. ‘*Let bim be,” cried Fiash, sternly. ‘‘ He Hi, hi, boy!” cried an- alidn’t hurt me, And he’ll need a square yard of - plaster to mend his beam-ends after the kick- ing I gave him.” ut the townsmen had now grown too excited to be easily quelled, and a rush took place around the edgs of the quarry that promised ill-hand- ling for the villain who had tried to murder the favorite of Payrock. Fortunately for him, he had managed to scram- ble out of the bushes and was now in full flight again, his clothes torn into rags, blood flowing from a hundred scratches, sore as a boil with the savage kicking he had received, yet still full of terror, and convinced that the ghost of his victim was again close behind him, By the time the ministers of vengeance bad reached the level of the quarry he was well beyond their reach, ‘* Come, lads,” said Flash, somewhat recov- ered from his heat, ‘‘ let’s go back to head-quar- ters and I'll tell you all about it.” He led the way back to the town, followed by a curious and amazed throng, many of them aughing still at thought of the peculiar chase, €. CHAPTER V. WHAT CAME OF AN AMBUSH, In the n meadow-land about half a mile to the left of the town of Payrock stood a dwell- ing of much more pretension than the most of those in that locality. It was of frame, but handsome and roomy, with showy cottage gables and broad porches running around three of its sides, This was the residence of Junius Melton, one of the richest ‘‘ silver kings” in town and prin- cipal owner of the Atlas Mine, which was pan- ning out splendidly. Around the house was a luxuriant growth of shrubbery and flower-bushes, though on the side of the road lay an oe lawn, which was kept very green and smooth, Over this lawn, a few days after the events just described, walked Fiash Lightning, looking spruce and handsome in his miner’s dress, and with an erect attitude and self-poise of manner which gave him a striking appearance, Linda Melton, the daughter of the owner of the house, and an old friend of the handsome youth, hastened gladly to greet him. ‘* Good-morning, Flash!” she cried, in a cheery tone, that showed they were the best of friends, ‘* 1 am glad to see you.” She shook hands with him in a cordial man- ner. ‘* You don’t see much to brag of when you see me,” answered Flash, ‘‘One potato in a bushel don’t count for much,” ‘* But one swan ina flock of geese does,” an- swered Linda, with a laugh, ‘* You're the swan and I’m the goose; or, may- be, only the gosling!” rejoined Flash, with an admiring look, ‘‘Is your father in, Miss Linda? I wanted to see him. ‘‘No. He is down at the mine.” ‘*Then I'll step over there.” ‘‘Don’t be in a hurry. Your business can’t be so urgent. Sit down here for a while, I want a chat with you.” They sat together on the steps of the porch, under the shadow of the embowering vines, Thero was something neither of them had per- ceived. A lurking form had followed Flash as he approached the house, darting from tree to tree, and from bush to bush, on reaching the garden, It was a small figure, which now lay hidden behind a clustering rose-bush, too far away from the speakers to hear more thanan occasional word of their conversation. But had their eyes been keen enough to pierce the thick-leaved bush, they would have seen a pairof burning and flashing orbs fixed upon them, jet-black eyes that gleamed like diamonds, with an angry and revengeful fire in their depths. All unconscious of this espionage, the conver- sation of the two continued. They were a handsome pair as they sat there together, Linda in her light summer dress, and her face rosy with health; Flash with bis rough pants thrust carelessly into his boots, his gray miner’s sbirt and belt, that revealed the lines of his fine figure, and his handsome young counte- nance, full of strength and intelligence, ** You will have your way,” he answered, with a laugh, ‘‘sol judge lll have to givein, You never let any one say no§when you say yes,” **No one bas a right to say. no, when I say, yes,” she gayly retorted. ‘‘ How would the world ever get along if the ladies did not lead and the men follow?” **That would hea good rule, if all the men were like that NewYork dude, Tim Spruce, who hasa backbone about as stiff as a twine- ; oD ee eC eee ee — string; but it wouldn’t work with all us West- erners, That chap wants baking over, for he came out all dough the first time. ** You are too hard on poor Tim,” cried Lin- da, witha merrylaugh. ‘‘ He complains bitter- ly of your treatment. Hesays you call him a tenderfoot, and declares that he does not know pins: you mean, for his feet are nota bit ten- er, ‘+ )°ll tread on them the next time, and see.” ** And he can’t see why his collar and neck-tie grate so harshly on your feelings.” ‘* Poor little dear! I try to let him alone, but I really can’t. He’s so awfully green and ten- der that I go fcr him like young asparagus.” ‘*Beware, young man! Stir not his valiant soul to its depths, or he may go for you in re- turn. He threatened vengeance the first time he finds you alone.” ‘*Tg thatreally so? How nice it is of him!” ** He intends to chastise you.” Flash broke into a jovial laugh. J: I see I'll have to carry_a shovel around with e,’ ‘* What for?” ‘*To shovel up what’s left of him when he’s done chastising me.” While this chat was going on, the form be- hind the bush was seeking tocreep to one nearer the speakers, Quite unconscious of the spy’s presence, the two continued their gay talk, ‘‘Don’t hurt him,” pleaded Linda, ‘‘ He really can’t help it. e can’t blame a man for being born a fool. It wasn’t his fault, And then the poor little fellow is so sweet on me that I have a sort of tenderness for him.” ‘*Sol Is the wind in that quarter? Tim! I’m sorry for him!” ‘* Well, that’s certainly polite.” ‘* He don’t know you as well as I do.” ‘* You are improving. When did I ever flirt with you? And yet,” she continued, with a gay laugh, ‘‘it would be delightful to make Mr. Spruce jealous! We must play the lover the next time he sees us together.” ‘Why, if Il knew how—” : ‘** T’]l teach you,” she declared, still laughing. ‘‘Hush! I declare, if he is not coming now, Sneaking on us, too, There’s no better time for a lesson.” As she spoke, the young gentleman alluded to, Mr. Timothy Spruce, polished and brushed to the highest level of art, had made his appear- ance on the porch, On perceiving the couple, who sat on the steps, he suddenly stayed his at: ress and stood peering at Flash with a look, alf-rage, balf-fear, For, as we have seen, Flash had made him the butt of his jesting humor, Then, gliding on tiptoe he managed to reach the cover of the luxuriant vines that grew up to the front of the porch, where he placed himself in an attitude to look and listen. At the same moment the creeping figure in the grounds had reached the stelter of a nearer bush, and now was within easy hearing distance of the unconscious pair. They were well aware of Tim’s movements, but saw nothing of those glittering eyes that glared on them through the leafy bush. Linda’s form sunk downward, until it rested confidingly against Flash’s strong shoulder, Her soft band fell in a careless manner in his. He was not long in closing his fingers over it. ‘*Love in a cottage; it’s a sweet dream,” she murmured, bending her eyes on him with seem- ing tenderness, but with a roguish look which the eavesdroppers could not see. ‘‘ What is money without love? Whatis not love without money?” ‘* Money has no charms for me,” he replied, ‘‘But this soft hand, and a heart like yours— But I fear you are playing me false, You love another. That jack-rabbit, Tim Spruce!” ‘*Love him? Lovea tailor’s walking adver- tisement! A perambulating specimen of shoe lish. No, never!—He takes, That hit him ard!” Tim, who had been listening intently, drew back with a whitened face, “Tf I thought you did I’d knot the fellow’s necktie under his ear, and harg him up as a scarecrow to keep tramps out of Payrock.—That will fetch him, { fancy.” ‘‘Tt’?s you who are the gay deceiver,” she re- torted. ‘I have seen you sweet as sugar-candy on little Rags and Patches.” ‘¢ Oh, I like Bess well enougb—when you are not about. She’s a jovial little thing. But, of course, dear Linda, when it comes to a question of love—” He finished the sentence with a look that set Tim frantic, while the form behind the bush sunk like a dead weight.to the earth. Poor