Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 94 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

a — ———_____ ci LL LLL LL LL LLL LL LLL LLL LLL LLL LLL LLL = . = — i ee ——— ee ee _ — —_ “ Lied?” repeated the youth. “‘ What did they say?” ‘They said that the dogs ha torn you piece- meal in the woods. J believed them; we all did. But you are alive—worth all the dead men in the ground. By the riches of Ophir! ’m glad to see you here, chief.” Setting Sun fixed his eyes upon the disguised road-agent. ‘* Say on, brother.” ‘Not just here!” was the response. still, boy.” The red twain drew aside, and left the youth alone, He did not hear what passed between them; he only knew that they, so lately enemies, were talking like friends; and a before they part- ed, he saw the chief’s hand point to the south- east, and heard him say: “She will be found there; that road is the broadest to her. My white brethren shall trail alone.” Then their hands met again, and Midnight Jack approached the rs The Indian looked oo a arms quietly folded upon his ample “Come, boy!” he said; ‘‘we have found a friend. He will keep the promises he has just made me. I know the trail that will lead to my sister; we will strike it at daybreak. The horses are not far off if Rube has succeeded. By the gold of Ophir! I nearly shot a—” e paused abruptly and glanced from the wondering eye of the boy to the bronze statue planted firmly in the moonlight. Then he waved his hand at the Sioux chief- tain and grasping Gopher’s wrist, hurried him toward the forest where he had narrowly es- caped with his life. ‘I’m known to one half of the tribe by this time,” fell from his lips, as they hastened over the ground. ‘‘Gods, boy! this has been the tightest rub of Midnight Jack’s life. Every- thing depends on Rube and the red-skin back yonder—the red-skin especially. Hold on! where are we?” The road-agent stopped and looked about like a man losing his bearings. He still held the lit- tle trapper by his hand. ‘ se oe ask one question?” asked the boy, look- ing - to Lightway’s face. ‘ Well?” ‘* Stand “What if Tanglefoot had unmasked you at the sun dance?” “Death!” was the reply. ‘‘ Nothing on earth could have saved us. The best shooting in America would have amounted to nothing, Go- pher, absolutely nothing. But,” with a flashing i the dark eyes, ‘‘ he didn’t quite tell on us, ) ‘‘No! and thank fortune that he did not.” The journey was now resumed and the twain plunged into the woods. They crossed the belt at its narrowest part, and came out upon a rocky country through which a well-to-do stream was rushing with sullen ponge and roar. ‘‘Tf Rube and the Indian boy have succeeded with the horses, whispered Jack. ‘‘Over there is the spot. Let me go ahead.” For the first time since leaving the spring Mid- night Jack relinquished the young oan 2 hand, and armed with his favorite revolvers which ingenuity had lately returned to him in the Sicux camp, he glided toward a rocky hill, and soon Sanenl beyond Gopher Gid’s vision. ‘‘ There goes a brave man!” muttered the boy. ‘“‘T wonder what ties link him to Setting Sun, the Sioux?” Gopher Gid’s further meditations were cut short by the sudden cracking of fire-arms. Bang! bang! bang! The startling reports came from beyond the hill of rocks, and, snatching from his belt old Tanglefoot’s pistol which the road-agent had filled with loaded cartridges, our young white eer bounded forward to the assistance of his iend. But Midnight Jack did not need help. A pistol flash greeted Gid’s sight as he reached the rocks, a loud report filled his ears, and he saw a dark figure fall back among some bushes. The road-agent stood erect upon a bowlder, with pistoled ds outstretched and fire in his eyes. Below him lay the bodies of three In- ps he , a bullet hole in the head of each, and a ir of moccasined feet protruding from the clump of bushes just mentioned told the story of the last shot. ‘‘ When will the red devils learn that Mid- night Jack never misses?” he cried, seeing the boy at his feet, and then he quickly continued: ‘fT more than half suspected this. They over- heard us in the cons. SOY were lying here to meet Rube with the You say you saw Midnight Jack, a a ee figures in the woods? These are the fellows. But they'll never form another ambush.” ‘‘Nover!” echoed Gid. ‘But are they all here?” ‘*‘ All?” said Midnight, as if insulted. ‘ Did any escape who filled the wagon down on the Deadwood trail? With these destroyers none ever get away,” aud the now smiling Sioux- killer held the beautiful pistols admiringly be- fore Gid’s eyes. ‘We'll wait awhile for Rube,” he continued. ‘*My shots will bring him up he says; he knows the voice of my Indian-slayers. Hark! horses now!” The unmistakable sounds of a_horse’s "4 proach. Midnight Jack sprung from the rock, and crouching on its shady side looked into the Sages spot where the bodies of his red victims ay. Presently a shadow fell across the trunk of a young tree, and crept toward the stricken Sioux. ‘* Another Indian!” said Gid. “That shadow-caster an Indian?’ ejaculated the road-agent. ‘‘Why, you’re insulting the whole Sioux tribe, boy. Now, watch.” Then a low cry fell ee Midnight Jack’s lips; the shadow straightened up and its maker came into view. ‘* By the jumpin’ jingo! who did this?’ cried a rough voice, and the speaker’s long arm was pointing at the red-skins. ‘‘ We heard yer shots an’ hurried up. Yonder ar’ the hosses; but we hed a time. Thar war wolves around the corral, an’ Injuns, too. We fought ’em both, an’ the three what felt the claws ov the Screamin’ Eagle, got pitched among the hosses.” The road-agent and the little trapper stood be- fore the speaker, still arrayed in his Indian dis- guise which was sadly dilapidated. Rube was surprised to see Gopher Gid; but led the couple to three steong-dithbed horses whose rope halter-strings were held by a young Indian. ‘‘'The boy ar’ uneasy!” he whispered Rube at Midnight’s ear. ‘‘He said awhile back that he heard his horn blow, an’ he’d wade through blood an’ fight sin an’ death single-handed jest to clutch that bugle erg’in.” The quartéette were not long in mounting. Gopher Gid was seated behind Mouseskin, the Indian boy, who for fear of being denounced as the slayer of Feel-the-Sky had united his fortunes with those of our friends, and was leaving the Indian village—never to return? We shall see. When all was ready the party set out, skirted the bank of the rapid river for awhile, and then left it to pursue its course alone. A at once a strange sound fell upon the ears of all. ‘‘The horn!” exclaimed Rube. ‘Look at the Injun! he’s got the fidgets. There it goes erg’in!” ‘‘'Yes! yes! Custer’s bugle. there!” cried Midnight Jack. But the old borderer did not seem to hear him. ‘‘ Quick!’ his rough voice cried, and his hand shot across the road-agent’s face in a futile ef- fort to seize the bridle of Mouseskin’s horse. ‘“Look! the red imp is goin’ to run off. He’s mad! crazy! bewitched! Catch ’im, Mid— thar! he’s gone!” The Screamin’ Eagle had spoken truly, for the young Sioux with one sweep of his right arm had flung Gopher Gid to the ground, and was ddshing away in the direction from which the bugle-blast had proceeded. Instantly the road-agent’s pistol leaped from his belt, and a ball went whizzing after the oung Sioux who seemed to have been rendered insane by the sound of his lost trumpet. “f Fetch the boy!” cried Midnight Jack, and the next instant his horse, with a snort and a mad plunge, darted after the mad young Sioux. The road-agent leaned forward as if he could thus urge his steed to greater speed. He held the bridle in his left hand, and at his right side hung a revolver. Fire flashed in his eyes. Woe to Mouseskin if he distanced the western knight of the road and offered injury to the fair we who he believed had blown the piercing ast. On, on through moonshine and shadow went the two Indian steeds. CHAPTER XVI. A THRILLING MEETING. Ruse RATTLER leaned forward and jerked the little trapper from the ground to a position behind him before he could recover from his be- wilderment. My sister is a —— —_ —— . --+- « — -_- oo oe —— re ee eee Then he gave his steed the word, and away he went, carrying his double: burden with apparent ease and willingness, ‘*Don’t bother me with quostions, boy,” said the old borderman. ‘1 want to come up with that Injun imp—I jest want to plant the bunched claws of the Screamin’ Eagle over his eyes. He'll think I am a reg’lar sky-scraper!” With astonishing wee ap | Rube kept in the wake of Midnight, who had disappeared, for all at once the twain saw a horseman leisurely awaiting them. They knew him at once, in the beautiful moonlight, and when they came up they saw that the road-agent was biting his lips in evident bad humor. The cause was plain. Mouseskin had eluded him, and Midnight Jack declared that the sound of the hun hoofs had ceased as sud. say as they had started from the place of am- ush. ‘‘Wecan do nothing till morning. We will rest here. Dora, my sister, cannot be far off. Maybe we will hear the bugle again before dawn. Let no one sleep.” The two guided their animals to a shady spot, and prepared to wait for the dawning of another day. e ears of each were eager to hear the blast of the famous trumpet again; but hour after hour passed away and the silamee remained unbroken. Daylight came; the long arrows of light enetrated that quarter of Sioux-land, and at ast the beams of the rising sun came to further beautify the scene. : ‘‘ Not followed yet!” was the ejaculation that fell from the road-agent’s lips, as he turned his eyes toward the Indian village wnich all had lately left. ‘‘ Setting Sun will keep his promise; he said that we should not be followed. If I had known day before yesterday that he was—” ‘Go on, Midnight. I understand you,” in- tenes Rube, catching the speaker’s eye. If 1 had known that, there might be life in Timon Moss to-day—” ‘‘T’m right down glad thet ye didn’t know it!” said Rube. ‘‘I’ll hev no opposition now.” The road-agent gave the gaunt speaker a queer lance; the boy also darted a questioning look into his good-humored countenance. ‘‘No opposition?’ echoed Midnight. ‘‘ Are you going to follow his calling—you a gin-tra- er? ‘“Yes, when they run a telegraph line to the moon!” was the answer. ‘ Not thet, Midnight. My temperance principles is to bu’st the kegs— like Gopher an’ me did fur Tanglefoot. I never liked the old fellar, anyhow. Thar’s a widder on Washoe street, in Deadwood—Mrs. McGee, six children an’ a boardin’-house;—them’s her dow’ry. Tanglefoot was the opposition party in the matter. Can’t ye see?” Though his thoughts at that moment were far away, and with one for whom he would have — his life, Midnight Jack could not repress a smile. The boy laughed merrily until a look from the old borderer severely rebuked his levity. ‘““Tt’s a fact!” blurted Rube. ‘“ The dow’r would check some fellars, fur any home wit six children is a boardin’-house, but I’ve gone too fur to recede.” ‘‘Gopher and I will congratulate you!” said Midnight, with all the gravity he could at that moment assume. ‘“‘ But this is hardly the place to discuss love affairs. We have a work to per- form. Let us find the trail.” ‘‘T'm with ye, thar!” responded Rube, ‘‘ Ar- ter ’while we'll talk about the widder.” The hunters now began to seek for that trail which each was eager to strike, and high noon found them pushing in a south-easterly direc- tion with an alacrify which seemed to insure success, It was near the close of the day that followed the startling blast from Custer’s bugle, when a handsome white man emerged from a cave in one of the deep canyons of Sioux land, and look- ed up ~ the dark cliffs that seemed to touch the lofty sky. e stillness that enwraps those canyons for weeks and months at times, lay about the soli- tary man; he saw no living objects. The gray walls were dead in color; the stones around him had been washed by some swift river of the long ago; the sun had never bleached them, for its rays never reached the bottom of that great ravine. The solitary observer of this solitude looked little like ahunted individual, His face was fair, well-shaped, and almost feminine in ex- pression. A mass of raven hair, long and in- clined to curl, had been brushed back from his temples. His garments were not of the best, JOO Eom cS