Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 939 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

14 Zulita! Oh, that I could see her first—while my mind is clear!” ‘Why, my dear sir, you talk as though you're goin’ to die right off,” said Bandy. ‘You’re worth forty dead men yet, and if | blood kin, and— But, Mr. Ballé, pardon me for this interruption; go on,” **On our way here,” continued the old man, ‘‘from the north, and when east of ths Trinchera Mountains, a black horse, true you'll brace up, I believe you'll pull through | enough, fell into our hands, Upon its back was al) right.” | a child asleep, She had been tied in the saddle, ‘‘ Ah, Mr. Bandy,” sighed the sick man, ‘‘ you | and was nearer dead than alive when we rescued can’t deceive me, nalfever. But, Bandy, how strange it is that you and those outlaws sbould all happen here together at this time. Tell me things are not foreordained! God knows His plans, and car- ries them out, strange as they may sometimes seem. ‘* But, Kit Bandy,” and the old man drew a long breath that seemed to give him momentary relief, ‘*‘ while my mind’s clear, I want to have a talk with you, You’ve seen men die, and know that sometimes hours before death ‘comes they become unconscious and pluck at the cover and stare wildly, and finally sink away. ‘This will be the way I will go, but, while I know what I am saying, I want to help you clear up a mystery—the Mystery of the Black Arroyo Massacre,’ Bandy started and leaned forward as if to catch every word. **'You needn’t tell me that I’m not going to die,” the old man went on, ‘‘ for I know I am, and, for the benefit of my daughters after my death, I want to tell you some secrets. ‘*My name, I will first say, is not Jean Ballé, but Henri Montforte. I was born in ‘New Or- leans. My father wasa Frenchman. I grew to manhood there, inherited my father’s great wealth and finally married one of the fairestand most lovable women on earth. I idolized my wife. I lavished upon her andour home all that wealth and taste could procure, I, in my blind love, petted her to death, “She died when our baby was only one year old. The blow nearly killed me, and for awhile [ lay iu the hospital with a dreadful fever of the brain. Some said I never would recover my reason, but I did, and was finally discharged from St. Luke’s, ‘* But now, Kit Bandy, it fairly maddened me to enter my home, and I sold it. It nearly drove me wild to witness the happiness of other men and women, and I resolved to £0 away—fly into wildest.scenes of the West and try and for- get the past. ‘* With my baby and servants, Old Jubal and Shady, I moved to Texas and settled on a ranch. I soon discovered it was seclusion—wild seclusion I wanted, and again pulling up stakes I pushed over into New Mexico. ** By the merest accident I met a young Span- iard who told me of this little paradise in the desert, I paid him well to conduct me here. I fell in love with the place and resolved to make my home here and live in happy seclusion, I entered into a contract with the Spaniard by which he was to serve me as scout and agent—to bring supplies from the distant settlements and assist me in caring for such stock and vegetables as we.could raise. ** As my offer for his services was a handsome one, he readily accepted, and we started back to Santa Fé, procured my child and servants, and struck for Paradise Vale. It was a long and tedious trip, but we finally reached here carry- ing our supplies upon pack-horses. Here for ears have we dwelt in perfect peace, quiet and ppiness. Juan, the Scout, has gone twice a year to points two and three hundred miles dis- tant for clothing, cloth, books, food and other needed supplies which he brought here upon pack-animals by devious routes. ‘* The rest of the world has been too busy with its own affairs to ever foJlow him into this sand- waste, and in a few hours the drifting sand would forever conceal his trail. HereJhave my children grown almost to womanhood, never knowing want. ‘*] have educated them so far as it has been in my power, and I promised myself that when they were twenty | would take them where they d enjoy the pleasures and society of civiliz- ation, But some one else will have to do that now, Mr. Bandy, if they escape the perils of this dreadful night. But, Kit, one of those girls you met to-night is not my own daughter, an _ ‘ Ah, indeed!” cried Bandy, all his previous convictions coming back to him twofold vecrhey ** that girl came to you on the back of that black horse in your corral! Ben Mead, my boy, hearken! your father tied that child in a ne wl Mire 29h Wiggs Pe ne Sow Opes might esca or ! That child was your -sister, One’ ot the fair girls that are here, or were here, is your I’m burning up with inter- | her. | She was too young to tell who she was or anything about herself or people. ‘*The poor young horse’s shoulder was in- crusted with blood. I found a gash thereon that bad been closed with a pin. There wasa hard substance like a flattened bullet under the skin below the wound. I made a new incision and removed the substance, It was a small gold locket. Inside the locket was a bit of closely-folded paper, upon which was written these words—but let me show you the paper it- self. _It has never been off my person in twelve years, Not one of my servants—not even my daughters $know the secret of that locket. I meant to tell them all some time. There it is— rather dim, but perhaps you can make it out. If not, I have it—every word—by heart,” He handed the bit of paper to Old Kit, who straightened it out and read as follows: ‘*Biack Arroyo, EAst TRINCHERA MTs, **'We are surrounded by savages and must perish —have women and children and great amount of gold— my wife and friend Bond already killed—will tie my child Dolly in saddle on back of fast horse and send adrift in hopes she may be saved from captivity—if she escapes, whoever finds her and this, hope they will care for her—God will bless. Poor baby! * * * Later—wounded white man in Indian disguise just crawled into camp dying—says leader of savagesis Don Alphonso de Muerta. My God! He’sanold friend! * * * Still later_—will close this now and send it and Dolly adrift on black colt— God help! Horace MEAD,” As Old Kit finished reading this aloud, he exclaimed: ‘*Carlita Bond’s dying story to Captain Clarke was true!” ‘Poor father!” sighed Ben Mead, with sad and heavy heart. ‘‘Oh, that I could avenge his death!” ‘*Then you are really the son of Horace Mead?” said Jean Ballé, laying his hand upon the bowed head of the boy. ‘* Yes, sir,” Ben answered. ‘‘Then you are the brother of my adopted daughter,” the old man continued, ‘“‘ Whet a strange fatality brings you all here to-night.” ‘* But you have not told Ben, Mr. Ballé,” said Old Kit, ‘‘ which of the two girls is his sister.” ‘** Perhaps I had better not, for then he could bea brother to both. My poor child will need a good friend when [ am gone,” ** Mr. Ballé, as you have been a father to my sister, so will I be a brother to your daughter if anything should befall you,” declared Ben Mead, with all the earnestness of his manly young heart, **God bless you, boy!” said the old man; “ but will you please call Lucille, Ben? Tell her I wish to see her.” Ben arose to go in search of the maiden, when the girl herself entered the room, white and trembling, At sight of her Jean Ballé exclaimed: ** Ah! my child; you have heard what I have been saying; butI am glad you did. Lucille, this young man, Benjamin Mead, is your bro- ther. You were the little waif that came to me apo on the back of the colt—our Diamond ick! CHAPTER XXIV. A FRUITLESS RACE. WITH his eyes upon that dust-line hanging in the moonlight, Desert Dan gave Black Robber the reins, and the miles flew to the rear as be- hind a bird on the wing. Zulita’s captor, mounted upon Diamond Dick, Jean Ballé’s bandsome black stallion, was out of sight before Dan had emerged from the ey and, but for that dusky trail in the air, wou d not have known the course taken by the fleeing nN. Black Robber gave all his wonderful strength and yet to the cause Of his rider as long as he had free reins, but the moment he felt the erat of the bits he showed a spirit of resent- ment, This caused Dan some little trouble when he suddenly discovered that the dust-line he was follow was falling away to his right, and undertook to veer the horse off in that ion; the animal resisted the interference with so much energy that before the Le Sigg get him oo he had lost sight of the aérial together. This was a bitter disappointment to the Sad- Kit Bandy’s “Star Engagement.” | sess seston dle Prince. He knew not now whether he was really in pursuit of or riding from Zulita’s ab- ductor. _ He was certain of one thing, however: he was going in the direction of Spring Basin whither he believed the outlaw was headed, and so he let the horse have hisown way and his own gait, and thus sped on by the squatty sage- bushes and bristling cacti. The boy had left Old Rattler so far behind at the very start that he no longer considered him as a companion in the chase, Eagerly the boy watched before and around him, lying with his face almost touching the horse’s mane, in hopes of again catching sight of the fugitive’s trail. And, better than he had hoped for just then, he caught sight of a flying horse and rider coming down from the north, an headed so as to cross his path obliquely some distance ahead, That it was the outlaw with Zulita he knew there could be no doubt, and so the chase was on again, not by *‘ scent,” as it were, but by sight, It was a race between the coveted black of the ‘Arroyo Massacre,” and the famous black of the great range—the one long the docile servant of man, the other less than two days from the wild and unrestrained freedom of the boundless lain. , Nobly did Black Robber now behave himself and swift upon the trail of the fugitive he held his way, as if conscious of a rivalry between himself and Diamond Dick that must now and forever be settled. It was a noble race between noble horses, and Desert Dan hoped that his animal possessed an advantage in that it carried but a single burden and the weight of fewer years. And, unless the moon as she mounted higher in the heavens seemingly brought objects nearer as they sped on, he finally became convinced that he was gaining upon the fugitive, This gave the youth renewed hope, and he encouraged his horse in its noble efforts by kind- ly words. Still on they went, and closer the pursuer seemed to draw to the fugitive. Another mile, and all doubts were removed from Dan’s mind. He was gaining rapidly upon the outlaw and his fair captive. Not over twenty rods were betwen them when suddenly Dan saw a flash before him and heard a bullet whistle past his head mingled with the dull report of a pistol. The fugitive had dis- covered that he was being pursued, and gave notice of the fact. But Desert Dan cared nothing for that. He Black Robber drew his own revolver and urg to a new burst of speed, Then the distance between the two blacks xeeay closed, and finally Desert Dan called out: ‘* Halt there, you scoundrel!” The only answer he received was a whistling bullet from the fugitive’s revolver. Still the Saddle Prince pressed him hard, fearing to fire lest he harm Zulita. He is so close now that he can see the horse is the black stallion of Paradise Vale—the same upon which Zulita was carried away. ** Hold or [ will fire!” again shouted Dan. Again the outlaw answered him by a shot, Dan raised his revolver and sent a bullet over the villain’s head, but the fellow paid no atten- tion to it, Again the young desert-rider raised his wea- pon and fired straight at the fugitive’s head, As the weapon rung out the outlaw was seen to reel forward and finally fall to the ground, his clinched fingers holding on to the rein and bringing the horse to a dead stand. ’ Then a cry of surprise burst trom the lips of Desert Dan, and he grew sick at heart, The outlaw was alone! Living or dead, Zulita had been dropped somewhere upon the desert! Dismounting, Dan advanced to release the reins of the riderless horse from the death-grip of his lifeless rider. The face of the villain wag upturned in the moonlight. It was the face of the renegade leader, Swift-Wing. One by one, and swift justice was being meted out to the notorious Desert Pirates, Releasing Diamond Dick from the outlaw’s grip, Dan tied up the reins and turned the animal loose, knowing he would find his way back to the vale. But what next was Dan to do? Zulita was surely somewhere upon that desert, dead or alive. The villain, finding himself hard pressed —to lighten the burden of his horse—had un- doubtedly dropped her unconscious on the plain. Had Dan by her silent form in his wild ee or had the renegade dropped her at the . e the boy had lost thc trail? Many were the thoughts that tlashed in suc- oS ~ *