Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 1061 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

7 | 18 re ee ee +e ee ee - —_—-- thanks for their services. Take it all around, it’s a harder puzzle to me than locating ‘ Thim- ble Rig Jim’s’ little joker.” ‘‘Thar a’n’t no use ter stir up yer brain on ther subjec’,” said Big Foot, decidedly. “If thar’s any loose friends ’round, what think enuff on yer ter do sich a job as that thar, why yer lucky. Fact are, it’s a dead sure thing, no matter what sortev a scrape ver git yersel’ inter, yer cum out squar’ an’ flat-footed, with- out br’akin’ bones or losin’ ha’r. Yer g’ardi’n angil minds her biz, an’ are alwis ’round. Keep ‘yer eye skinned in ther futur’ fur black velvit, en’ when yer hears a Tonk’s war-yell ag’in, out- ‘side o’ Warlu'a’s, why, I rec’on yer'll hav’ a ‘how ter thank ther cuss what done a big thing fur yer. “Twa’n’t our red, Ill sw’ar; fur he “are a score 0’ leagues trum this, a-usin’ bis eyes an’ ears ter vantage, bet yer last hog! Boys, ‘ump yersel’s, an’ git ready ter git frum here! ‘Sam, yer don’t low ter camp afore night, I rec’on, arter this scrape? Yer don’t choze ter camp amung sich a lay-out ev excoriated, scari- fied, humicidal, corpuses? Thar’s anuther ‘sqaad o’ Cortina’s ladrones bu’sted up, an’ll soon be re’dy to be sarved up as a second-class free lunch fur cayootees and buzzards. What are yer a-sayin’, little pard?”’ ‘“‘T wasn’t saying anything, Wallace. You have had the floor,” answered Sam, ‘“ Bue T’ve been thinking that,'as you say, we had bet- ter put the leagues between us and this camp. ‘The Gut-throats who have escaped may work us mischief, for I have no doubt but that they are connected with Don Brogado’s band, and they may warn that gentlemanly butcher of this invasion. If so, he will consider that our advance upon Mexican soil means business with bim, and take steps to balk us by flying to his mountain retreat, where it will be almost im- ‘possible for us to accomplish our purpose, and ‘we will run the risk of losing the lives of the ‘whole party. Ihave hopes of seeing the Tonk- way soon. Then we will know just what to expect ahead. We must now look to the ‘wounded—lI hope none are hurt so they can’t ‘continue the march.” “Tom Johnson and Steve Spaulding are ‘both dead,” announced Fighting Ben, as he rode up at this moment. . “Yes,” added Big Foot, “I see’d ’em go ‘under; but tha’ fit like white men an’ c’uldn’t ’a’ gone on ther dark trail in a better cause— though I hates ter lose a pard| by a Greaser knife.” ‘“‘A dreadful misfortune,” exclaimed Sam. *‘ We could not spare such heroic fellows and it hurts my heart that time will not allow us to take their bodies to a last bome on Texas soil.” ‘‘Glory be to God!” here burst out Mick. ‘The dacindint ev the last king o’ Bally- -scblaven kan sthand ’pon his own two futs, an’ behould ‘himself alive an’ kicking. Sure Mick’s a sinsible sleeveen, im’ dun a power 0’ slath- ‘erin’ an’ whackin’ wid thim yallar-bellies, or begorra I’d be kilt int r-ly, an’ cut off frum ‘avin purgetory, be bain’ laid wid these murth- ‘erin’ divils wid thim other b’ys. -eare fur Mick, b’ys, whin he’s kilt ye’ll take Sure,if ye him in a bag over the big river yondther, an’ ‘hay’ a praste say a prayer fur a dacindent ev ther last king 0’ Ballyschlaven.” ‘* Vell, you ’ad petter tooks sum breacher ‘along mit you, Mick, und sdakes ‘im owert do grass mit a bicket bin, ginder loose, mit der odder mulars, so day kan kick bis prains owert. Dare vas do many dem breachers apout al- reaty.” ‘“Tundther an’ turf, but it’s yersilf ‘ll be wanting a pr’acher bafore long, I’m thinkin’, Misther Pate. Sure tha’ra hape smartber’n yersilt; faix I niver saw wun—” ‘«S’posin’ yer sh’u’d shet up yer grub-traps,” broke in Big Foot, riding past the pair, ‘an’ ’Jow yer hasbed up lingo ter subside, I re¢c’on yerd be solider, bein’s we-’uns are "bout ter kiver up a c'upple o’ pards, what never ‘ll hav’ anuther show at shootin’, cutthin’ or chawin.’ ’Peare ter me yer’d better be sorter more bu- man, if yer’d hay’ less gab, an’ hustle round an’ fix things up, so we’uns kan git frum this ockerd persish’, ” | Amid words of deep sorrow and regret, and praises of their bravery and fidelity, the dead were buried, the wounded attended to, and all gathered together, ready for another fight, should foes stand in the trail between them and the object that had brought them outside of the boundaries of the Lone Star State. “On, boys, on!” yelled Sam, as he galloped *# the front, in the company of Ben and Bill. “On to the gold-chests of Don Lorenzo Brogado! ‘*On to Monterey! “On to the rescue of the old man’s darling, from the brutal murderers of the chaparrals!” **On, on, me braves!” broke out “Reckless Joe.” ‘On for glory, and gold! Sam can take the old man’s darling; we’ll take the yellow doubloons! By all the gods of war but I’m hungry! I’m starving! Give me a square meal, or give me death! Feed me extensively and Ill burl defiance at the whole Greaser Re- public, from the middle of the Grand Plaza of Monterey! ‘“'When there’s a show for grub, boys, some of you whisper in my ear to that effect, for I’m a-going to estimate in my mind how many coffee and cake shops there are between the Battery and Union Square, and the length of time it would take me if I was dropped flat- footed at Castle Garden to go through them all.” The depression of spirits which had fallen upon the band of Rangers from the death of their pards was thrown off by forced hilarity. They knew the necessity of keeping up their spirits and hopes in the dangerous position they were in, on foreign soil. Even the wounded exhibited a fortitude that, under the circum- stances, was heroic in the extreme, and called forth the admiration of their more fortunate comrades. All were aware that it was a necessity to be brave and true to each other, that every man must act as a watchful guard for the whole, that it was impossible for the woun.'c«:l to re- turn to Texas since the absence of the guard who would be forced to attend them would so weaken the party that the expedition would have to be abandoned, or the lives of those who remained would be at the merzy of the blood- thirsty bandits of either Cortina, or Don- Bro- gado, his right bower. . So, for the present, we will leave them, pressing on through the cacti country, the thorns, the leaves of the bristling Spanish daggers and bayonets, the sword palma and even the humble soap-weed all seeming, with their sharp, steel-like pointed foliage, to be threatening them, or warning them, to return, and the ill-omened, red-jowled buzzard hover- ing over their heads as if the foul vultures ex- pected, before long, to prowl about and over their dead carcasses, and pluck out their eyes. CHAPTER XVI. THE MYSTERY OF THE MIDNIGHT SHRIEK. THE morning following the drunken debauch of the bandits at the hacienda, Lena Castro was awakened by the sweet songs of many birds that, flitting through the foliage near her window, uttered a thousand musical notes of joy, as the god of day arose over the far-off plains, and cast his warm smiles across the dew- dripping leaves of the tree-tops. At first Lena did not realize where she was, so deep and un- broken had been the sleep, that followed her privations and great fatigue. Almost the first thought, after comprehending her situation, was of her newly-iound friend, Panchito, whose reappearance she waited for with a great yearning. She had not long to wait, for Panchito soon appeared, with a breakfast of coffee, tortillas, and chili-concarnie, which she had prepared with her own hands, and with a ‘‘ good-morn- ing,” both smiled and spoken, she placed the smoking mea! before the captive maid, who greeted herin a loving manner and partook freely of the food set before her, Panchito wait- ing upon her in silence, Lena noticed that the breakfast service was of solid silver, beautifully engraved, with the monogram of an old Custilian family deeply cut in each piece. This was another convinc- ing proof of the strength and utter recklessness of the bandits. She reasoned that were they not in some way protected or favored by the government they would not dare to maintain a rendezvous so near to Monterey nor allow such proofs of their criminal trade to be used in the hacienda, It certainly showed plainly that Lorenzo Brogado felt secure in the retreat he bad chosen for bis head-quarters. When Lena had satisfied her appetite, she thanked the Mexican girl, and then proceeded to question her, hoping to be able to concoct some plan of eseape through the knowledge Panchito had gained by a long stay in the casa. But first she decided to ascertain the mean- \) , ; Lap : te) P SAE Ls ee ee time , same 4. ; 7 ile a a aie - A? a Ve Wm aed " uty A . , Pe f ing of the mysterious ery which had so alarms ed and puzzled her the previous night. “Now please explain, Panchito,” asked Lena, ‘‘in regard to the scream I heard last night. I fear some other poor unfortunate woman is detained here by these brutes, and has been fearfully wronged, There was some- thing in her cry which wrung my heart, alas! already overflowing with grief at being torn from the arms of my poor father. I know the necessity for keeping my spirits and bopes up since I want not only to preserve life and honor, but, if possible to escape with you, Panchito, from this dreadful place, once the happy home of my parents.” “Dear lady, I can tell you but little in re- gard to the strange captive kept confined here by el diablo Brogado. She bas been here ever since I was brought to this den of sin. From one of the gang who was wounded and brought here to be nursed by me, and who afterward died, I learned that she was of noble birth and was once loved by Don Brogado. She rejected him to marry another; and amid fearful slaughter he tore her from her home and hus- band, many years ago, and kept her hidden in his mountain cave, far from here, I also learned that a holy Padre, who held high in- fluence over Don Brogado, and who had once been the confessor of this lady, had used his in- fluence to gain her release and return to her husband, but had only sueceeded, by bolding his curse over the head of Don Brogado, in preserving her from violence and outrage. But the wretched lady became insane,and when- ever the bandit chief presented himself before her, to gloat over the success of his heathen- ish revenge upon his rival, she would sbriek wildly, and go into convulsions. He seeks her presence but seldom, yet I knew last night that he was on a visit to her and that made me _ hasten away for fear that he would observe I had been in your com- pany too long. The reason I am here so early this morning is that I may have a few minutes’ conversation before he sleeps off the effects of the sguardiente and vino which he drank so freely last night.” During the time Panchito had been relating her story Lena, her torehead claaped by beth palms, had listened intently, and thought deeply. For some time after the Mexican girl had ceased speaking she remained thus; then she looked up, and speaking suddenly, in- quired: ‘‘Panchito, how came you so much above most Mexican girls in education?” a ‘Padre Benivedas, of Mier, taught me, my lady.” ‘*You were very unfortunate ever to have allowed yourself to be taken from his boly in- fluence. Now I will askif you have not—with what you have heard fall from my lips and what you must have overheard between myself and Lorenzo Brogado—in your thoughts con- nected this unfortunate, insane captive, with myself? “Oh, God! can it be?’ continued Lena, as she sprung to her feet, and paced the floor with impatient strides. ‘Can it be that the surprise this fiend. promised me was to present me to the insane wreck of—my mother?’ The last two. words were given out in a hoarse, gasping whisper. Pale as death she stopped in her walk opposite Panchito, who bad also sprung to her feet as ghastly as her who stood so deathlike and silent, with clasped hands, before ber, Lena, horror-stricken that a fiend could exist, who would find joy in such a scene, and wild with the horrible realization of those pent-up longings to see her mother that she had nursed within her heart through life, gresped the hands of Panchito, and with the tears coursing down her cheeks exclaimed: ‘*Panchito, what think you? Is it possible, or am I too going insane?” “Not only possible, dear lady, but, as tbeie is a God above us, ’tis true. In the very poise of form, in every gesture, glance of eye, wove-;) ment, and tone of voice, I see the counterpart of the poor lady confined below. Strange that with what has been said, and your pres nce here, together with the knowledge of the great cost of life and gold to get you, I had not thought that revenge was at the bottem of it all! Did I not hear you called a Castro fool? That I was to know that a Brogado only seeks a Castro for revenge? That I have heard a thousand drunken curses called down upon the family, and have known your father’s death and your ruin would only end the terrible ven