Beadle's Half Dime Library, Vol. XIV, No. 351 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

Deadwood Dick Sentenced, One by one, the men sat down by the side of the building, and, to use an old vulgarism, the first they knew they didn’t know anything. They were asleep, beyond immediate awaken- in . Teniik Fowler then lost no time. Heunlocked the jail doors, and aroused Deadwood Dick, un- handcuffed him; without delay, the two men left the prison, and started rapidly off through the darkness. Not five minutes later Black Bird and a por- tion of bis gang arrived at the jail, and made the discovery of Dick’s ae Their vindictive yells of rage aroused the town, and were even beard in the distance by three figures who were wending their way into the mountains—Deadwood Dick, Frank Fowler, and Geuersl Stafford, But they were far enough away to safely laugh at their baffled foes, Nowhere’s ‘‘celebration” had, after all, turned out rather ingloriously, CHAPTER VIII. CATHIE. Axsout five miles from the mining-town of Nowhere, and less than a mile from Dark Run Camp, was a cabin, upon the rugged mountain- side, at least a couple of hundred teet above the gulch trail. Few persons traveling along the stage trail would have noticed the lone habitation, owing to the fact that it was encircled by a hedge-like fringe of firs, through which the winds ever played a mournful dirge. The cabin, in itself, was but an ordinary af- fair, yet strongly built, and boasting of the somewhat uncommon luxury of two doors, and two good-sized windows, In front of this cabin were several beds of beautiful flowers, on either side of a pebbly Pech, and near at band, a natural fountain, hat threw a silvery spray of water several feet into the air. In one sense it was a wildly picturesque and cosev little place to dwell; yet that did not signify that happiness prevailed within the humble home. Rost i It was one sunny autumnal afternoon, several days after the events last narrated, when a girl , came to the door of the cabin and gazed down the mountain-side, as if expecting some one. She was young in years—probably not over seventeen, if quite that—but possessed of a sup- le and graceful figure that was finely developed or one of her years, In face she could boast of being remarkably pretty. Her features were clear-cut and ex- pressive, with a tempting mouth, eyes like stars, and a generally pleasant appearance. It was evident, at a glance, that a part of her life had been spent amid surroundings similar to those she now occupied; yet her plain attire in no wise detracted from her beauty, nor quali- fied the expression of refinement characteristic of her every action. ** Why don’t Joe come?” she murmured, as she gazed down toward the rugged stage trail, ‘““T fear—ob! I fear some harm has befallen him, or—or—” She did not finish the sentence, but her lips quivered, and tears sprung to her pretty eyes, These she dashed away, however, and turned Cp into the cabin to attend to her household uties, When she reappeared at the door once more, after a lapse of several minutes, an exclamation of astonishment burst from her lips. Three persons were coming up the trail—two large, powerful men were leading toward the cabin a youth of rather delicate build, who, from all indications, was too drunk to walk alone, The girl stood in the doorway, watching the advan*ing trio, her face colorless, and her eyes flashing with indignation. One of the men was the man who had tried to make a murderous contract with Soaker and O’Gall several days before, at Missouri Mag’s place in Nowhere—namely, Bill McClurg. The other man was the ruffian chief of the miuing- camp. Black Birc. At last the two men reached the cabin, and lay their burden down upon the grass in front of the door. McCiurg then looked up at the girl in the doorway with a significant nod. “ You see the effect of your sisterly devotion to him, eh?” he sneered. ‘* By the gods, I should think it were time for even you to renounce bim, Cathie!” “Never!” the girl replied, her eyes Aashing. 8 McClurg laughed hoarsely. ** It isn’t all the liquor now, my girl, although he’s a good jag of it on board. He’s got a bullet- hole through him, so slick an’ clean that ef he ever punishes any more Bezam, it will leak out as fast as it goes down!” Cathie uttered a startled scream, and would have sprung to her brother’s side, only that McClurg intercepted her, ‘Let bim alone!” he commanded, gruffly. “Ye can’t do him no good, for he’s dead already, ye see! We sorter walked him up byer so ye wouldn’t git skeert and faint. Yas, little one, Joe’s had his last drunk fer sure!” “And who brought him to a drunkard’s grave? Who brougbt liquor within his reach— who, but you, who claim to be our parent? Oh! Pierre Parrimore, you shall be made to answer for this!” “Tut! tut! You talk wild, my child. You well know I have tried to persuade Joe out of the habit!” ~ Cathie, her face strangely set, and colorless, gazed staringly toward the inanimate form; though great her anguish, it seemed pent u she was unable tocry out in expressiun of her acute suffering. Suddenly, however, she aroused, as if stung by an adder, ‘* Where is Ford—Ford, and my babe?” she fairly screamed. ‘*Speak! tell me—are the safe? They went fora walk down the gulch “They are not dead!” McClurg, or, more correctly, Pierre Parrimore said, sullenly. ** Not dead! In God's name, father, what do you mean?” _The Southerner gazed at her a moment, balf- pityingly, as if he hated to add further to her misery. ‘**'Your husband and babe are not dead,” be repeated, ‘but they might better be, for they have fallen into the hands of one whe will show them Jess mercy than the most bloodthirsty Apache!” Cathie did not faint, at the terrible words, but her face was so corpse-like, and awful in its look of agony, that even Bird Black averted his gaze, with sometbing like a shudder. This girl wife did not faint, but there gradvu- ally gathered about her colorless lips such an expression of stern resolve, as meant vengeance and #8: givin ts at ‘ on!” she gasped, leaning against the door-post for support. ‘‘Go on, Piarre Parri- Bore I am prepared even to seen the heavens a . A glitter of intense satisfaction crept for an instant into the man’s eyes. “You are no less brave than I expected of you. The blood of the Parrimores never fails to tell when a crisis arrives, But, my child, it isnot to you alone that bad news comes, to- day. The news equally concerns me. Daniel Stafford isin this neighborhood, and the ven- detta is revived in deadly earnest, and here must be ended, Hither the house of Parrimore must perish and pass away, with the blot of disgrace upon the proud old name, or Dan Staf- ford must die ere he leaves the range!” Parrimore spoke with a thrilling earnestness that seemed to affect the white-faced child wife in the doorway, for her eyes kindled with a flash of spirit, and a faint glow of color suf- fused either cheek. ** Who killed Joe?” she asked, with a sudden- ness, and a forced caJimness, that caused Parri- more to give her a sharp glance. “‘The vendetta—the tools of Daniel Stafford!” Parrimore hissed, savagely. ‘‘The viper dare not come forth and fight his own battle, but has placed the job in the hands of agents. It was one of these who shot Joe. His name was Deadwood Dick.” = My husband—my child? What of them?” More I do not know than that Ford Favor and the babe were surrounded by a gang of masked men, and borne away into captivity. That they have fallen into the hands of our foe, there can be no doubt. What will be their fate can but be surmised! We two alone are left to end the vendetta!” “Then, ended it shall be! I am no child, and can accomplish much. Hear me swear, by the love for my dead brother, yonder, that I will never know peace or rest until the vendetta is ended, and my brother’s murder avenged; nor, will I Pe at anything that will enhance the success of my trail of vengeances. By the God above me, I swear it!” ‘“‘ Bravo!” Parrimora cried, with undisguised satisfaction, while Black Bird nodded his ap- provai. | : | ** General Daniel Stafford shall learn to his —--- triumph, years after he, the last but one of his race, has Vecamne food for the worms of the earth. With you to help me, my child, [ shat! know no fear of defeat!” The girl did not reply, but turned and entered the cabin. ate After a short conversation, Pierre and Bird Black lifted the body of Joe, and carrying it in- side, laid it upon arude lounge, Parrimore then called to Cathie, but received - no answer, Thinking strange, he opened the door of. her room. She was not there! Her hat was missing, as were a rifle and belt of small weapons, which usually hung on the wall. Psrrimore turned to his ruffian companion with a chuckle. ‘*Tbe first hound has started upon the trail!” he said, significantly. CHAPTER IX. THE GIANT, THE DUDE, AND THE FAKIR, Two weeks had passed since the day the citi- zens of Nowhere bad failed to enact summary que upon Deadwood Dick, and the excitement: aving greatly decreased, the camp jogged. along in the even tenor of its way. No contradiction had been made by the Gov- ernor to the effect that he had not issued the reprieve; hence, there was a_ strong feeling against him in Nowhere, if nowhere else. As his term of office would soon expire, be could safely afford to laugh at the adverse opin- ion of a few scores of miners, while, at the same time, no doubt, he felt justly indignant at the rien trick played upon bim by General Staf- ord, The Nowhere Stuff bad exhausted its editorial affiatus in regard to Deadwood Dick’s escape, and yearned for some new ‘‘breeze” to spring up, which would give the paper a ‘* boom.” While its editor satin his office one evening, reflecting upon the uncertainties of life and journalism, Missouri Mag’s shebang was the scene of unusual festivities, consequent upon the celebration of Margaret’s birthday. Everybody had been invited, and everybody, literally, was ‘‘ thar,” todo homage to the mus. cular, and by no means “‘skeery ” proprietress, , who took pleasure in announcing upon an illu- minated banner, the following: “THE*DAY WE ALL CELEBRATE}! “Twenty-Seckin Annual Birthday o’ Missouri Mag, who runs this hyer meetin’-house, Come iu an’ spend yer collat. A general fust-clas3 stan’-up- an’-knock-down ‘time may be expected,” What more appetizing invitation need be ex- tended? Sufficient unto the men was Mag’s card, and early evening saw the den packed with as motley a gang of roughs as ever as- sembled beneath a roof. , A band had been provided, and dancing was among the festivities, while cards and whisky did their respective sbares toward making a “pleasant time.” Above the bar was ae 7 pier posted a placard, containing the following suggestive notice; “ P. S.— Missouri Mag’s revolvers aire all in trim and she’s on the shute!” This no doubt was infended as a warning for quarrelsome individuals to abstain from deadly target practice; tut it was not destined to pro-~ duce the desired effect, for a man from Trinidad “died with his boots on,” as early as nine o'clock in the evening, because be had not the good breeding to invite the crowd up to drink with him. As this was but a trivial affair, it did not arm. rest the pleasures of the evening. x About the time things were getting fairly warmed up, a stranger entered the saloon, who at once attracted attention. Not that the ar- rival of a stranger usually attracted attention, but this one in particular was a little out of the ordinary run of strangers who dropped down in Nowhere. : | He was a tall, exceptionally thin, and effemin- ate-looking young man, who bad perhaps reach-. ed his twenty-third year, although the only in- dication of beard upon his face was a soft bit of flaxen down upon his upper lip, 4 No raw prairie winds or scorching sun had affected his face; ia fact, he looked like a sickly plant that bad first seen lizht in an ill-managed — ot-honse, his features being pinched and wax-) like, and devoid of the hue of health. His garments, of the n.ost fashionable ats sat upon his head; be wore a broad expause fitted him as tightly as though they had teen feo to his anatomy. The daintiest of silk Twill never give Joe up, fathef. It is not fault, ivoneusaets is the accursed liquor.” : sorrow that the name of Parrimore sball existin | of white shirt, with liGboc ; his feet were are a : ENS Pin ee ; i eiege ‘ a. $ : a. é og fea