Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 106 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

oo +s eee - es —_— -——_— —— — _ ——— et — ee ee > ee v -_—--- — —— - * A hundred pounds for that fellow’s head, alive or dead!” he shouted, in angry tones. ‘By Jove! he’s what you call a cool hand, you know, a regular cucumber and all that sort of thing!” cried Smithers. ** It’s a thousand pounds to aslap on the back that it is Shamus O’Brien!” Burke exclaimed. The troopers had given chase at once: but, as the prisoner had gained a couple of hundred ards start, and had as good, if not a botter orse than any other in the party, there was very little chance of overtaking him. ** We'll make a regular steeple-chase of it, you know!” averred Smithers, as they rode on at topmost speed. We will run him oy through Ballinahinch. By Jove! what a lark! first chop fun, you know.” ‘*Fire at him, lads, so as to alarm the town and make them turn out to stop him!” the cap- tain ordered. But, the fugitive had no idea of going through the vi ; he knew a trick worth two of that. When the soldiers opened fire on him he was just approaching an angle in the road; but, in- stead of turning he put his horse right straight at the fence before him and went over it as light as a bird. And the fence was a “‘crop- per,” too, a good five-barred one—a regular ‘rasper,” as Smithers weg when his horse refused it, and the shock nearly sent the lieu- tenant over the animal’s head into the field. Burke was the only man who succeeded in leaping the fence, and when he looked around him after lea ing; and saw that he was alone, he pulled up his horse a moment to give di tions. The fellow is going to make for Joyce’s coun- i think; turn, back and follow up the road while I will keep on his track.” ‘*But I say, you know, captain!” called out Smithers, anxiously, noticing that the fugitive was cantering leisurely along as if he was not at all afraid of pursuit, ‘‘ look out for yourself, you know, and all that sort of thing; this fellow is a tearer, you know; I shouldn’t be surprised if he was an American, one of those Fenian skirmishing lads, you know, come over here for the express purpose of treading on the tail of the British lion, so as to make that respectable old party howl with anguish.” ** Don’t be alarmed!” Burke replied, a cruel smile upon his cold face. ‘‘I havea brace of revolvers besides my saber, and if I can only overtake the fellow, which I think I can, for my horse has more speed ina long run than his, Pll go bail to give a good account of him.” “Tf he’s a Yankee, take him alive, you know, so that we can get a look at him, and see how much Indian there is in him.” ‘“*That is Shamus O’Brien and no one else!” Desmond protested, angrily. ‘‘I was a fool not to have suspected him in the first place; but, be off with you, and I will meet you at the be ra crossing where the little stream comes down from the hills.” Burke turned and set out in pursuit of the fugitive, who was cantering along as coolly and unconcerned as though a pack of baffled men were not at his heels thirsting for his blood. With firm-set teeth and angry brows, rough- riding, desperate Desmond pursued the man whom he was convinced was his rival—his mor- tal foe, Shamus O’Brien. The captain had set his heart upon winning the heiress of Kilkerran, but he was aadion satisfied that as long as the young Irishman ex- isted there was very little chance for him. It was not solely love that urged Desmond Burke on in his pursuit of charming, graceful Maggie Moore; he had an eye to her fortune as well, for Burke of the Twelve Pins was a ruined ome fone as yet he had succeeded in keep- ing that knowledge from the world. He had led a wild, reckless life—had spent money as freely as though five-pound notes grew on his ancestral oaks and golden guineas could be dug out of every bog by Twelve Pins’ halls. But the crash that would reveal his true po- sition to the world might come at any time; he was a desperate man, and like wee ote men, clutched at straws. The fortune of the heiress would save him; therefore, perforce, he must win the girl. To his mind one obstacle alone existed—the young Irishman, bold Jim O’Brien, and that fugitive whom he was pursuing was O’Brien he had no doubt. The very boldness of the trick which he had played amply proved it to his mind, for there were not two men in Con- naught who would have dared to risk so much for so little. Burke pursued the fugitive hotly, and he happening to turn his head, perceiving that there was but one man in pursuit, at once rein- ed in his horse, wheeled him around, and calmly prepared to receive the captain. If this was Shamus O’Brien, he had come to the conclusion to try the captain and see what kind of metal the rough-riding Burkes of Twelve Pins were made of. CHAPTER VIII. '§ LITTLE GAME. BURKE Tu popases displayed no wea et Des- mond felt sure that the hand, co within the folds of the dress, grasped one, Shamus O’Brien: Boldly, though, the captain rode onward. ‘‘Surrender!” he cried, as he got within range of fire, menacing the other with his re- volver, as he spoke. ** Not to the likes of yees, me bould Burke of the Twelve Pins!” replied the unknown, and then, quick as a flash, up came the hand which had been concealed in the folds of the dress, and, sure enough, the hand grasped a revolver; immediately the stranger fired, anticipating Burke’s shot. A capital marksman, too, the unknown was, for the bullet sped straight to the spot for which it was destined—the heart of the good beast that Burke bestrode. Down went the horse upon his knees. Over his head, so sudden was the shock, and so un- expected, went the captain, taking a regular ** cropper. Then the stricken steed rolled over on its side, dead, and Burke, stunned by the fall, lay sense- less upon the turf. A loud shout of rage went up on the air from the throats of the soldiers, riding at full speed along the cross-road; they commanded a view of the scene, and yet were not near enough to endanger the escape of the bold fugitive. “ -by to yees 28, tee !” yelled the Un- known, at the top of his ungs. ‘I'll be afther seeing yees ag’in whin I have more time!” Then he wheeled his horse around and went off to the northward at racing speed, much to the disgust of the soldier squad, en Sep ped the little doctor, who had mounted behind one of the men, and who loudly lamented the loss of the beast which had cost him fifty pounds Of good money. **T tell you what it is!” proclaimed Smithers; “that fellow is a ‘rasper,’ a regular tearer you know, and all that sort of thing! i shouldn’t be in the least surprised if he was coe Sf those Yankee Fenians, and be hanged to m Pursuit evidently was useless, for there wasn’t a horse in the command that was equal to the doctor’s, and, even if there had been, the fugitive had so great a start that it was clearly im ble to catch him, e was racing away at the horse’s topmost d, clearing the fences like a bird, and, as mithers observed, riding like a ‘‘ deuced jock- ey, you know ;” so, taking advantage of a gap in the wall, a l'ttle distance on, the troop rode into the field, and went to the assistance of their down-fallen captain. Burke was not seriously hurt, only stunned and shaken up by the fall, and he soon recov- ered from the shock. “By Jove, old fellow!” the lieutenant ex- claimed, es Burke sat u , ‘f you hav’n’t broke bien neck, have you? Nochancefor promotion or me, this time.” ** Curse the fellow!” cried Burke, vigorously, and in a tone that plainly showed he was worth a dozen dead men yet, ‘‘ where is he?’ “Riding a sg fs om with the Bloody oA ee as an objective point,” Smithers re- The captain looked around him, and speedily discovered the fugitive fast vanishing in the distance, ** He has escaped, then?” ** Not the slightest doubt in regard to that,” was the lieutenant’s view of the case. Burke rose slowly to his feet, and shook his clenched fist, savagely, after the horseman. ‘*Tt is Shamus O’Brien returned again to Ire- land!” he exclaimed. ‘‘ There is not the least doubt in my mind in regard to that, but I will have him! Iwill hunt him down if it takes one soldier in the district.” ‘*Upon my word, Burke, if it is Shamus O’Brien, he is a mighty bold fellow!” ** Yes, he is taking a desperate risk, but it is like the man who put his head into the lion’s mouth; some day the jaws will close and he will suffer. And now, boys, which one of you will give me a mount?” One of the troopers at once slipped out of the saddle and tendered his steed to the captain. Burke mounted and the soldier got up behind one of the other men; then the troop rode off, Burke and Smithers in the advance, where bar could converse without being overheard by the rest. “T tell you what it is, old fellow, zoe have had a deuced narrow escape!” said Smithers. ‘* When I saw you take that ‘ at ag ’ over the head of your horse I felt sure that you would break your neck; in fact, I would have been quite willing to have bet two to one on it, you know. It was a deuced narrow escape; the fellow evidently intended to hit you.” ““Oh, no, I don’t think so. The shot was aimed at the horse, so as to check eee If this is Shamus O’Brien, as I think, his ~ saal ance just at this time is extremely unlucky, for it interferes most materially with my **T don’t wy aay f see how that can be.” “Tt is very y explained, and as you take quite a friendly interest in my affairs, 1 don’t mind making a clean breast ob it, particular] as this rea ce of this fellow—if he Shamus O’Brien—may make quite a difference to you,” *a _— The lieutenant looked puzzled. ow, I don’t see how that can be.” **T think that on hold my I. O. U. for about a hundred pounds.” Tg bun ed and ten pounds, my boy, ex- actly. ‘* Yes, I knew that it was somewhere about a hundred; I never trouble my head much about the odd figures;” and todo the master of Twelve Pins justice, it must be observed that he never troubled himself much about aay figures, odd or even, so his creditors declared. Smithers made a grimace. He had come to Connemara, a stranger, and the dashing Desmond had “ taken him in,” not exactly in the Scriptural sense, butin a worldly one. Now the Englishman was no fool, for all his eccentric ways, and he did not at all relish lending money with an almost absolute certain- ty of never seeing it again. “Well, now, my dear Smithers,” Burke con- tinued, ‘‘ the fact is, I am in a deuce of a hole. My family estates are so terribly incumbered that the revenue I receive from them may be easily represented ed three small figures, and as [ am, unfortunately, not of a saving turn of mind, my circumstances, instead of one better, are continually getting worse. othy O’Glory, at whose mansion we are now quar- tered, thanks to his illigant better-half, who dearly loves a red-coat, is an old friend of my ** But, you family and has always attended to all the legal business of our house. He is a lawyer, you know, a keen, cunning and forehanded man; . but, cunning and close as O’Glory certainly is, | your humble servant contrived to stick him. ‘*The deuce you “‘T would not have sible.” ‘‘ Well, asa general rule it would not have ° been, but he loaned me money under very pe- culiar circumstances. He is the guardian, you know, of Miss Maggie Moore, the heiress of Killkerran, and for the last five years I have been an ardent suitor for that lady’s hand. Both the lawyer and his wife tnvored —old Timothy because he knew that if I be- came the lord and master of the heir I would not bother myself to look into accounts too closely; and Mrs, O’Glory because she hates the O’Briens, and having got an. idea into her head that there was a love-oltain going on between the young heiress and this ames O’Brien, she determined to do all in her’ ape to separate the two. At one time after’ *Brien was forced to fly the country on ac-: count of being mixed up in the Fenian business, it really looked as if I had a clear field before me. iss Maggie condescended to receive my addresses, and I flattered myself that in a very short time I should be in possession of her sweet ' self and the Killkerran estates, which, my dear’ Smithers, I admired fully as much as I did the lady. Under the influence of this rose-colored. state of affairs old Timothy was fool enough to’ lend me five hundred pounds. That was just: about a year ago, and by Jove, sir! no sooner had Timothy advanced the money when the’ heiress faced to the right about and began to exhibit a most decided aversion to yours truly.. I was puzzled to account for it; O'Glory was: more than puzzled—he was alarmed. IfI did not succeed in getting the heiress, he knew that’ he would never stand any chance of getting his’ five hundred pounds. But now I am sati that I know what the matter is. O’Brien, I am convinced, returned to Ireland just about @ year ago, and has been in concealment here ever since. Immediately after his return he continued to put himself in communication has the lady, and as his star ascended mine sun ‘‘And you think this doughty female is O’- Brien in disguise?” _ ‘‘No doubt of it in my mind; the bold action is like the man, for he is a daring, desperate fel- low. And now, my dear Smithers, you see the whole affair lies in a nutshell. I must marry the heiress ; she will never consent until O’Brien is hunted out of the country, or else taken and consigned to the tender mercies of an English. jail. Therefore I must leave no stone unturned to make Connemara too hot for my bold Shamus O’Brien, for if I don’t, good-by to all hopes of my ever winning the heiress!” ‘By George! quite exciting—quite like a ro- mance, isn’t it?” and Smithers undeniably en- joyed the situation, CHAPTER IX, THE GOOSE-GIRL. A short half-mile from Ballinahinch on the road ——— to the south was a small cluster of cabins, hardly enough of them to merit the title of hamlet, and yet the little settlement was known far and wide as Goosetown. And good reason was there for the name since nearly all of the dwellers in the humble cabins got their living by raising geese. The hamlet was right on the borders of a tr , where the feathered bipeds found plenty of sustenance. Goosetown had formerly belonged to one Michael Sheelan, of Inishboffin—a uliar genius, reputed to be one of the greatest misers I00 com Ss € whe exclaimed Smithers. . believed such a thing pos- my suit | (E (0)