Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 94 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

——— a ee “This is the place for you, Dora,” the road- agent said, addressing the fair girl whom he had carried to this bewitching spot. ‘I'll visit your grave every day and death shall be the rtion of the fiend who ventures to despoil it. ow for the secret home. I saw it the other day, though it was well hidden. The boy has not come back yet, 1 think, for saw him down near Brier Ford at sundown, and he had no horse, either. However, he’s an innocent-look- xy bg > I take it; perfectly harmless!” few moments later Midnight Jack leaped to the ground at the foot of a rugged hill cov- ered with a dense undergrowth aut okie inaccessible. But his keen eyes descried a pat which seemed to lead to the top, and up this he sprung. A few bounds brought him to a strong door fixed seemingly in the hill, and adroitly con- cealed by a variety of wild grape-vines which hung from above, ‘‘| knew it was here!” said the road-agent, satisfied with his exploration. ‘‘ Now Ill see if the youngster is at home.” The door, being unlocked, yielded to his touch, and a dark opening appeared. He drew slight- ly back and with a cocked revolver in his hand called: ‘“‘Halloo! my boy! If you’re at home come out, for Pve a bit of business to transact with you. His voice seemed to penetrate every corner of the cavernous place, but elicited no response. This did not surprise Midnight Jack, for, as we have already heard him remark, he did not ex- pect to find the *‘ youngster ” at home. Midnight entered the hole in the ground, and struck a lucifer which for several moments il- lumined the place, showing him that it was the dwelling of a human being, for several rude articles of furniture lay around; as well asa lot of new skins, a pickax and a spade. These last-mentioned articles the young road- agent hailed with delight, and before he cast the match, burned to his fingers, on the floor he sprung upon them. “T'll bring them back, my boy,” he said, as if addressing the owner of the implements, and a moment later he reached the door. A glance showed him his horse at the foot of the hill. At the faithful animal’s feet he had ‘deposited the burden he had sorrowfully borne from the battle-ground on the Deadwood trail. But, for the shadows, he could not see it now. A broad ray of moonlight fell upon the vines that covered the entrance to the hill-home, and as Midnight Jack, with yey and pick on his shoulder, emerged from the place, he uttered a cry which was an oath. mething had whizzed past his cheek, and he turned to see the barbed end of an Indian arrow rotruding from the vines; the iron shaft had uried itself in the planks of the concealed door. ‘‘Thunder and rifles!” ejaculated eee tte Jack, and as the implements glided from his hands, he drew his repeating rifle. ‘‘ The red devils are going to give me more exercise. Well, they shall find that I am eager to keep up the work I began to-night.” Another shaft cut short the sentence, and the road-agent saw that it sped upward from the depths of the little valley, and just beyond his horse which, with head erect, had snuffed the prowling foe. ‘‘They’ll open with bullets soon!” grated the road-agent, through clenched teeth, and then, vs a thought of the girl, he sprung down the He had surmised correctly, as the next mo- ment told him, for the sharp cracking of Indian rifles saluted his ears, and he went backward like a stricken man. ‘Not dead yet, you dogs!” he cried, recover- ing just as his horse sunk to the earth bullet- stricken. “I’m going to empty every cursed Sioux lodge west of the Missouri. Oh, I’m not afraid to face the whole tribe if you give me half a ghance.” : He did recover, and a bound brought him to the spot where his gallant steed lay writhing in pain. * Lie still, Quito! It’s life and death with us now!” he said to the horse, as he drop be- side him. ‘‘ We’ve been in many a place as tight as this, and always got out. I’m hit and so are you; but the bullet that is to kill Midnight -Jack isn’t carried by the red-livered dogs over there.” The road-agent took out his revolvers and laid them at his side. He lay close against his fallen horse, which fortunately occupied a shady spot. A glance upward told him that the moonlight would fall there no more that night. His wish Midnight Jack. —_—$ was that it would reveal, just for one minute, the figures of the Indians. Then came a lull in the battle, and Midnight turned to the spot where he had deposited the body of his sister prior to ascending the hill for the pick and the spade. ‘They shall not get you, Dora. By the gold of Ophir—” He stopped suddenly, and a startled look filled his eyes. cé one P Midnight Jack sprung to his feet, and uttered a word in all the horror and despair imagina- e. ‘‘ The red devils have stolen my dearest dead. Oh, you dogs! for this there shall be double ven- geance taken.” He was answered from the further side of the valley. A line of fire leaped from the darkness, and bullets fell all around him. ** Living still!” was the defiance which he sent back to his foes, and then a cry of joy fell from his lips. The moon peeping over the edge of a cloud was revealing a score of horses, upon which dark figures were mounted. Midnight Jack darted forward, and cs he halted for a moment, his rifle sent ten messen- gers of death into the ranks of the savages. Wild cries of fpain and shrieks of death fol- lowed the rapid shots. There was retreating in hot haste; but before the red-skins could get bo- yond the stretching moonlight, two rifles on the road-agent’s left opened upon them. With astonishment Midnight Jack turned up- on his reinforcements, to hear these words in a loud, rough voice: ‘** Don’t let up, youngster, but give ’em all the grim death ye’ve got in the magazine. Whoop- ee! there they go! I’m the Screamin’ Eagle of the Smoky Roost—the Thunderbolt of the Dark- edged Cloud—a reg’lar sky-scraper.” nstead of smiling, Midnight Jack’s brow darkened at these words. ‘“‘T didn’t want any help,” he muttered. ‘ By the gold of Ophir! I didn’t need any !” CHAPTER IV. THE HUNT BEGINS. THE sound of retreating hoofs was evidence enough that the Indians were riding at break- neck speed from the bloody little battle-field. The road-agent found five dead braves on the t where the Sioux band had fought, but no sign of his sister’s pallid face greeted his vision. ‘*‘You may carry Dora to the North pole, but even there the hand of Midnight Jack will fall upon you and tear her away,” he cried, lookin toward the direction in which the Indians ha fled. ‘‘ By the gold of Ophir! I will not rest until I have avenged my sister.” ‘“*Thet’s biz’ness, stranger,” came the unpol- ished voice from among the little trees that stood thickly on the sides of the hill. ‘‘ I’m comin’ down to take the hand of the feller what loaded a wagon with Injuns down the road. I’m a reg’lar sky-scraper! Hold on thar, stranger!” Midnight Jack aliowed a scowl to pass over his face as he wheeled like a tiger suddenl brought to bay, and, with a revolver in eac hand, looked up the hill. ‘‘T want revenge, not sky-scrapers!’’ he mut- tered, in a tone of passion which he could not suppress. ‘‘ But as the fellow has a horse, I'll face him.” A moment later two figures mounted on mules, whose bodies bore the marks of heavy harness, came in sight, and the road-agent soon caught their eye. ‘*Hyar we ar’!” cried a lank and uncouth but strong specimen of humanity, springing from the animal’s back and alighting so near Midnight that that worthy had to start back to avoid a collision. ‘‘I hevn’t got a card, but my name is Rube Rattler, or, the Screamin’ Eagle of the Smoky Roost. Whoopee! strangers, we’ve checked five of ’em straight through to- night. This boy is—bless my boots! if I don’t eh te what he calls himself. I picked ’im up back thar a piece. Old Tanglefoot war goin’ to let moonlight into ’im when I said: ‘‘I guess not,” an’ he didn’t. He’s a chicken, sir, an’ I’m his friend from this night. The man what teches him teches the Thunderbolt of the Dark- a atone Say, did the Injuns take any- in “Take anything?” and Midnight Jack echoed the uncouth individual’s words in tones so venge- ful that Gopher Gid, who still sat astride one of Old Tanglefoot’s mules, started. ‘‘ They took what Midnight Jack never took from any man —a sister.” Fora moment the gaunt man did not speak; he was staring into the face of the person be- ee ees —— eee + ee a fore him, who, with arms folded but with the deadly weapon of the Westin his white hand, was standing motionless as a statue. ‘*Pve heerd of you!” Rattler said. ‘You never took a thing from me, Midnight, an’ ’m always ready to help the man what’s lost any of his own. Putit thar! an’ let us be friends, fur what’s the use of two white men who hates Injuns to be foes?” ‘he stony expression on Midnight Jack’s face relaxed, and the boy opened his eyes in wonder when he saw the two men shaking hands. ‘‘We hed a queer tussle to-night,” the Sky- scraper said, glancing at Gopher Gid. ‘ That old rotgut-peddler lost a linchpin. He tried to cuss it back; but it war the most wasted cuss- in’ you ever heard of. Then, as I said, he got at the boy thar who came up to help’im; but jest about thet time the Thunderbolt of the ark-edged Cloud dropped close by ’im. We emptied his cargo—knocked in the heads of his kegs—and left ’im with two of his mules. He war usin’ the strongest kind o’ language. It war amusin’ to hear’im. Did you ever meet Tanglefoot, Midnight?” ‘“‘He knows me, at any rate!” was the re- sponse, and Gopher Gid detected a faint smile at the corner of Midnight’s lips. ‘‘ That man is not wholly a braggart. He is a desperado.” ** Thet ented toad?” cried Rube Rattler, in tones of mingled disgust and astonishment. ‘Did you ever hear of a Sioux molesting him?” se No.’ : ‘** Did you ever see him driving along with an Indian sitting on the same seat, as brotherly as you please?” ** Never did.” ‘Then you haven’t been on this trail long,” observed the road-agent. ‘* Not a great while, Midnight. Hev ye see’d | sech things?” ** Frequently. Moss, as he would be called in decent society, if he ever moved in it, is known to every Sioux in the West. He has drank with Red Cloud and Setting Sun; he has hobnobbed with the lowest dogs of the tribes. To-day he is a king among dogs; to-morrow a dog = kings.” He’s got a divarsity of talent,” said the Westerner, and as he turned to the boy he finish- ed: ‘*You’ve got a mean fellar to deal with, Gopher.” ‘‘The greatest villain in the country!” said Midnight Jack. ‘‘I’ve seen him in the great village of the Sioux. Why, Red Cloud actually dubbed the hound a chief at one of their sun- dances. I never molested him; it wasn’t policy.” ‘‘He said he would pay us back fur bu’stin’ his kegs! But I guess the Thunderbolt of the Dark-edged Cloud kin stand the payment of the debt. When any man runs a’gin’ me he strikes a wan, fidnight Jack was still angry; the loss of his newly discovered sister caused him to shoot lightning glances toward the north-west and he began to grow impatient. ‘T’ll go with you to the eends of the world arter the gal!” broke in the long borderman., “T’ve nuthin’ to keep me hyar; no family. The boy—why, he kin remain hyar till we come back. Gopher, jump off the critter and let Mid- night take the saddle.” ‘Not till I look to my own horse!” interposed the road-scourge, before Gopher Gid could spring from the beast. ‘He went down at the first fire, and I told him to lie still;” and he walked to the spot where his black horse still lay; but a glance at the rigid form and the glaz- ad eye told him that he would never ride the faithful animal again. With clenched lips and eyes flashing anew, the bandit came back to the two spectators. “Tl take the mule, boy,” he said gently, and Gopher Gid slid to the ground. ‘‘ With a fresh trail ahead, we will overtake the reddies before they reach the big village. I have my doubts whether Tanglefoot was going to Deadwood. The great sun-dance of the Sioux is near at hand; I guess he never misses such an affair as that.” The self styled Sky-scraper and Midnight Jack now made hasty preparations to depart on the trail of the flying Sioux. ; The boy watched them with disappointment in his fair eyes, and at last, unable to still his longings another moment, he — to Midnight. ‘“T’d like to go along and help you get your sister back.” Jack looked up and surveyed the little fellow from head to foot before he answered. ‘You'd bother us, mebbe,” he said. ‘We may have to enter Red Cloud’s village, make Indians of ourselves and, the girl may be dead. gp. I think she is.” The last sentence was spoken slowly, and tho EGOmiichdoo SjalGO) Old Tanglefoot or Timon. a oe |