Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 1003 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

a I ts — ———————_———_—_=___= So far two persons only had appeared in connection with the store; a man and a lad; both of good appearance although dressed very poorly indeed, but there was that indescribable gomething about them that plainly denoted to the experienced sye that their former station in life was far above that which they now occupied. From their peculiar dark complexions, their jet-black hair, and genera! bearing, it was quite plain that they were foreigners. “Injuns, bedad!” the sagacious McGinnis had declared, at the @rat clance, but, after a more careful inspection, he came to the covelusion that they were ‘“‘Greasers”—that is Mexicans; Greasers they are commonly termed on the frontier. When McGinnis reached the shop the man was lolling indo lently on the counter, smoking a cigarette; the lad was nowhere to be seen. The irishman introduced himself es a neighbor; inquired ia regard to the prospects for business, and ended by inviting the é@ark-fea-tured gentleman to come down to his place and try a eup of liquor to keep the “could” out, although how any one gould possibly take cold in that balmy spring air, was a mystery. To refuse a friendly invitation to drink on the frontier is almost the same as directly insulting a man, so the store-keeper, well posted evidently in regard to the customs of the country, called out to the lad, whom he called Miguel, to mind the store and then he went with the Irishman. McGinnis, naturally curious, soon commenced to question his guest, and the stranger answered readily, aa 8 man would anewer who had nothing to conceal. His name was Jules Mercado, the lad was his brother, Miguel. fie was a Texan by birth, of Mexican descent, and came from Matagorda county, where he had formerly kept a general country store; he had suffered the entire loss of his stock by fire; had sacceeded in getting one-half of the insurance money, and being desirous of making a fresh start somewhere else, he had followed the advance of the iron-horse toward the setting sun, having beard that there was a good chance for business in the new towns springing up along the magic line which was to span the continent. A plain and simple story, and told without reserve. To his other neighbors, who followed the lead of the Irishman and called to scrape an acquaintance, the same tale was told, and so, before the close of the day, the Texan seemed to the rest to be like an old acquaintance. The lad, Miguel, kept out of sight. He was not well, pined for home and the appearance of strangers disturbed him, so the elder brother explained, and no one wondered at it, for the boy appeared to be both delicate and ailing. At the end of the first day of the stranger’s sojourn in Corinne, about nine o’clock in the evening he shut up his store and strolled down the street toward the center of the town, apparently with intent to see the sights, for the center of the town was a sight at night when the saloons, dance-houses, and gaming-hells were fn full blast and the place was crowded with graders (who were working on the road-bed of the railway), and other railroad men, Just about an hour the Texan was absent and then he came striding along up the street toward his shanty, apparently under the influence of strong emotions, if one could judge by the con- vulsive workings of his face. He tapped in a peculiar manner at the door of the shanty. The signal had evidently teen previously agreed upon, for it was anderstood at once and the door was opened. The Texan entered, elosed the door behind him and secured it with the heavy bar which had been provided as an extra fasten- ing. The lad was standing ®y the counter, the large wild syes looking earnestly into the agitated face of the man, It was plain at the first glance that the Texan had been drink- ing heavily and was in a terrible state of excitement. ‘‘He is here!” he cried, rapidly; ‘‘ we are hunted down! Oh, gainte in heaven! is there no place, then, on this broad earth where we can find shelter and be safe from this untiring tracker! He trails us as the blood-hound trails the human fugi- tive amid the fastness of the swamp, and what does the fugitive when he finds that, turn and twist as he may, he cannot throw the brute off the scent? If he is desperate unto madness he waits for the dog—risks all in one terrible struggle, either to kill the and so stop the pursuit, or else to fall a victim to his jaws!’’ “What is the matter?” asked the lad in cold, quiet tones, his bearing a strange contrast to the feverish excitement which to transform the Texan almost into a madman. ‘He is here, I tell you!” he cried, his excitement not abating in the least. ‘‘ We are hunted down! Were we buried deep in the earth’s center, the opposing fates, who frown upon me, would lead this mantous. But, remember your oath!” and he strode up to the lad and laid his trambling hand upon the rounded shoulder, while, with his glittering eyes, now fairly blazing with excitement, he glared into the marble-like face, “ You dare not break it, or you will burn forever in the fires hereafter!” “I dare not,” and the sentence came from the cold lips of the speaker, as a mechanical image might have spoken it—a machine which could imitate the human voice, but could not infuse in the words a human soul. ‘No, no, you dare not! It would be terrible!” he exclaimed with rapid utterance. “But this man! he is a demon! He laughs at steel; lead he defies; he bears a charmed life; he looks upon his foes and they fall and die. He would tear you from me—tear you away, despite yourself, but you shall not gol” “No, I shall not go!” The speaker was like a parrot, and per age repeated the words he heard. cy calmness of the one was sucha contrast to the frenried exaltement of the other. pee “Aud he follows ua, reckless of the danger!” the Texan con- [ i a ad -—— ad tinued. “Am Tachild to always fly? Will the time never oome whon I will turn and strike?’ **No, let us still fly; there are rich mines in Southern Utah, let us go there,” and a wistful look came into the eyes of the speaker as the words were uttered. “ Ahal” cried the Texan, and he caught the speaker by both shoulders with his trembling, feverish hands, and peered suspici- ously in the pale face, “ you fear that I shall kill this man—you fear for his life! Oh, I guess the truth! You cannot deceive mie; but I fy no more! Either I or this demon must die! He bas just braved the power of the Mormons, and, redhanded, slain one of their number. If he escapes the Danites he shai not escape me!” And with the words the excited man turned and fled again into the air. The lad hesitated for a moment; then, seisimgy a revolver from beneath the counter, and taking his hat, he followed inte the darkness of the night. “If be dies, what is life to me?” he cried. CHAPTER XL THE DEMAND FOR JUSTICE. “Dap!” The word went round among the throng. And these rough, bearded men whispered the word gently, for a death, has a nameless terror even for the wild and POCEiess. Few, no matter how daring, care to visit “that bourne from whence no traveler returns.” “Dead!” exclaimed John Clark, and his heavy brows com tracted; ‘‘dead, did you say, doctor?” Tt Yes, sir.” ““Murdered by that man!” and the Danite pointed his finger st Gold Dan, who, motiouless as a statue, was standing quietly, waiting for events to develop themselves. “It’s a lie!” replied the plainsman, promptly. “I never pulled trigger on the man, and am as innocent of his death aga babe unborn!” “No, 10; we saw you do it!” yelled one of the Mormon gang, excitedly, and then the rest took up the cry. ** Yes, you did! you killed him!” A movement toward the plainsman was made, but, as the Danite leader manifested no intention of taking part in it, and, too, as in a second Gold Dan had his revolvers out, the hammers raised and the glistening tubes leveled full at them, the “‘ Saints ” contented themselves with a few threatening gestures, In truth, as well as any men, they knew that certain death for eight or ten at least lay in the borderer’s hand, and though in the end the rush might overwhelm him, yet not a man of the Mormon band cared, in person, to meet sudden death for the sake of the final triumph of his party, It is this kind of fear that enables a single resolute man to defy a host, which has often been done, and successfully, since the world began. “‘He didn’t do it, nuther!” an old, gray-bearded “ Gentile” exclaimed, strong in the right and not afraid to speak his senti- ments, despite the bravado of the Latter-day Saints; “I had my eye on him the hull time, and he never pulled nary trigger, and you lie, you fellers that say he did, goll-darn yer!” And ia ne the old fellow shook his fist at the angry Mermen And the assembled Gentile crowd took up the cry, “He didn’t fire the shot; he didn’t!” “Fire that shot!” yelled the-Man-from-Red-Dog, at the top of his stentorian lungs; “‘ Ill bet any man in the crowd ten thousand dollars to a slap on the back, that he didn’t! Andif any one of you ten-wived Mormon gaioots are re’lly sp’ilin’ for a fight, ’'m your antelope, every time! Oh, for the love of Brigham! jess one or two—or three—of you long-legged, slab-sided, howling chaps, come and bite a piece out of my earl Why, when I get through, thar won’t be enough left out of the hull crowd to grease a griddle for a flap-jack! Took, took! sockle-doodle-do!” and the giant wound up his speech by smacking his hands his sides, imitating the flapping of a cock’s wings, and crowed as loud as he could. This bold son of the golden land, although an entire stranger to Corinne, had already made himself quite at home and had tickled the outside Gentiles greatly by his bold deflanose of the detested Mormons, =e . John Clark. ‘Men of Corinne!” cried Jo in his loud, Vv which rung plainly through the town, “a friend Brg Patee dead in yonder house, not killed in fair fight, for if he was, these lips of mine would never be opened to utter a single com- plaint. No! he was foully assassinated! All of you here know the terms of the fight. At the signal, one, advance and draw; at two, open fire. The first signal I gave, but the second never left my lips, for hardly had I spoken, when a shot answered me and my friend fell, bleeding from a mortal wound. Who fired the shot? Who had reason so to dof I did not see it fired, for I y - delivered, and they, one and all, swear that this man, this Gold Dan, who so boldly denies the charge, was the assassin.” “What of that?” frihe-Man-om-Red-Dog cried; ‘I can bring fifty who are willing to take their oaths on a pile of Testaments as big as a haystack that they didn’é see him fire no shot, nary time, and how is that for high?” The Danite never paid the least attention to the Californias werds—as if be did not think the giant worth answering, _ hn lea — rn rs, -—. —_ 7) ; : - | > ~ ace Fe a Re ee ee | -comicbooks.com a: . —> — RS + ee Se eae ae =. 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