Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 1102 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

16 as, we journey through life we really seem to meet more rascals than honest men, although of course there isn’t any doubt that the latter out- number the former a hundred to one. “Tf this was not the truth society couldn’t hold together and our boasted civilization would be a gigantic failure.” ‘‘ Yes, that is true enough, but the idea is the hundred honest men go their ways quietly, at- tending to their business, while the one rascal makes himself so conspicuous that everybody either sees or hears of his doings.” ‘¢ There isn’t much doubt that you’ve hit upon the true explanation.” ‘‘ But to come to business,” observed. the stranger, abruptly. “‘Il have heard the mys- terious voices again.” ‘* Ts it possible?” exclaimed Blake, with eager interest. ‘Yes, I was sitting by the window late this afternoon. In fact eversince I first heard the mysterious sounds I have spent a great deal of my time at the window, with the idea of dis- covering the reason for the strange occurrence. ‘¢ But in this I was not successful.” ‘‘Tt is about as odd a thing as I have ever heard of,” Blake remarked, reflectively. ‘Yes; and for the life of me I cannot dis- cover any explanation of the mysterious af- fair. ‘* Sitting by the window, the voices come dis- tinctly to my ears, plainly audible although the conversation seems to take place quite a distance away; yet, when I look from my window there isn’t a soul in sight,” ‘‘ Perhaps the sounds come from the room be- neath the one which you are in,” the Fresh sug- gested. ‘‘No; for that is the dining-room through which the servantsare constantly passing, and it would be impossible for these men to hold any private consultation there. ‘‘ And, mind you, they speak with perfect freedom, as though they were not in the least afraid of being overheard.” ‘* Well, itis a mystery.” “ And I have gone to the apartment right un- derneath the moment I heard the voices, with the idea of seeing if the sounds came from there, and found the room in possession of the female servants, who, in answer to my question, said that no one but themselves had been there. ‘*T have stood by the window in this room, right under the one above my apartment where the voices reached me, and was not able to hear a sound.” ‘*Tt is, by long odds, the strangest case that ever came to my knowledge,” commented Blake. ‘‘ But, I say, perhaps you’re a clairvoy- — or something of that sort—a medium, you snow.” The horseman laughed, displaying as perfect a pair of teeth as the eyes of man had ever look- ed upon, and the keen orbs of the Fresh did not fail to note the sight. ‘‘Oh, no; I do not think that I am anything of the kind; or, if lam, I am entirely ignorant it. ‘‘No, no; there is some natural reason—some law of nature which will account for this mys- terious circumstance, and in due time I shall find out what it is. ‘‘ But to return to the conversation. ‘‘The speakers were the same two whose voices I had heard on the previous occasion. But this time, as they spoke with the utmost freedom, evidently without making any at- tempt to disguise their tones, I fancied that the voice of one of the speakers, the one who seemed to be the leader, was not unknown to me. ‘‘ But it was not an easy matter to recognize voices under such circumstances, for, owing to the peculiar circumstances of the case, the tones became hollow and sepulchral, as though the speakers were conversing at some distance underground.” ‘* Ah, yes, I see; that supposition is very prob- able, too. “Te — 2 aa oe some oe meeting- lace underground, there may a e hrough the earth that conducts the sounds to you, on the same idea as a speaking-tube.” ‘¢ Yes; that was the explanation that occurred to me, but still, I don’t exactly understand it, for there is no underground apartment in the neighborhood that I know of, for there isn’t any cellar under the ranch, for I took pains to make an examination.” ‘‘Tf your ranch isan old one, built by the Spaniards in the early days of Santa Fé, it may be that there are secret underground apart- ments; such a ents exist in the mansions that the mission fathers occupied in the old days, for they were a jolly set of fellows, par- tial to good wine, and also thrifty in collecting stores of gold and silver from the flocks under their charge, and a secret underground apart- ment would have been just the place for them to store their treasures away.” ‘*T did not think of that,” the horseman ob- served, after a moment's refiection. ‘‘ But now that I come to consider it, I should not be at all surprised if you have hit upon the true solution of the mystery. ‘‘ Leaving this idle speculation aside though, The Stranger Sharp. a ee ee — I will come to the conversation which I was for- tunate enough to overhear. ‘‘One man, the master-spirit evidently, was | called by the others captain, and he answered to | i ' the name of John.” “é Aha!” exclaimed Blake, ‘‘ that is indeed im-.| etait ttt ll Ll LLL AD LLL LLL LALLA LALLA AA, CALLA LL ily , dered me this signal service, I do not consider | that it would be right to conceal the truth from. you. ” For a few moments the horseman was silent, his eyes bent upon the ground. Then finally the gaze was raised and fixed portant information, and with that in my pos- | upon Blake’s face, while a smile of singular session it ought not to be a difficult matter to fix | softness played upon the expressive features. the identity of the two.” ‘‘Theconversation between the twoonly lasted a few minutes, and the purport of it was that ‘* It does not matter, but honesty in telling me. ‘In order to warn you there wasn’t any other thank you for your the captain had found it was necessary to drive | course open to me than the one Ladopted. I you from the town or kill you. This, you will | see, was just thesame as what I reported to you before, but when the man who was called John asked the other if he had formed any scheme in | regard to the matter, the captain answered that | he had. ‘‘ John then said that it would be a difficult | matter to ‘double-bank’ you; that was the | word heused, but I do not exactly understand | its meaning.” “Ttisa tons term, applied when three or four men attack one. ‘* To double-bank is to attack with odds.” ““T seo; the captain replied that he had en- gaged men to attend to the work who would be sure to make a success of it. ‘* The other doubted, and gave it as his belief that you would be able to hold your own against a half a dozén ordinary men.’ ‘I’m very much obliged to him for his good opinion,” said the Fresh, with a laugh. ** And he, as well as all the rest, may be cer- tain that I will domy best to deserve it.” ‘Then the captainstated that he had engaged five men to attend to your case who would ve sure to be successful.” ‘* And these five men?” questioned Blake, ‘* Are Indians of the Apache tribe.” ‘‘ Hallo, hallo!” exclaimed the Fresh, aston- ished at this intelligence. ‘*- You don’t mean to say that this secret enemy of mine is going to put the red-skins cn my trail?” ‘* That is the programme,” ** There 18 indeed danger ahead,” mused Blake. “That is what I thought, and so I came in haste, regardless of the risk, to warn you,” cried the rider, earnestly. I CHAPTER XXIII. THE INDIANS APPEAR. THERE was silence for a moment; the Fresh’s gaze was cast upon the ground and he seemed to be debating some important matter in his mind, while the horseman’s eyes were bent earnestly upon his face. ‘‘So, despairing of being able to accomplish anything by the aid of white men allies, he in- tends to try what the red-skins can do,” Blake | remarked. ‘* Well, the idea is not a bad one; the game of the Indian will be of course to take me un- awares end slay me without giving me a chance for my life,” he continued. ane that was almost exactly what he said. ‘* But, thanks to your warning, I shall be upon my guard now. 1 would have been taken by surprise undoubtedly, for if I had encoun- tered any Indians I should not have been apt to.suspect danger from them. “Did you hear the names of these noble | red-men mentioned?” ‘Yes, the name of the Indian with whom the bargain to assassinate you was made is Painted n.” ‘* Well, that’s an odd name even for a red- skin, and one not easily apt to be forgotten.” ‘‘This Indian—he is an Apache chief—and his four sons have been hired to kill you.” “Tl try my best to make them work hard | for their money, and, thanks to your timely | warning, they will not be able to take me by | rise; being on my guard I’ve not the least | doubt I shall able to hold my own against them.” “The bloodthirsty villains!” exclaimed. the | horseman, indignantly. ‘‘If they come to their | death their bleod will be upon their own heads. | And now having delivered my warning I will | be gone.” | ‘“‘Excuse me a moment!” exclaimed Blake, abruptly. ‘* There’s a question I should like to put to you | if you have no objection.” ‘Tf it is in regard to who I am, I beg you not | toaskit. There are reasons why I wish to keep | my identity a secret.” | ‘You have been very kind indeed to take all | this trouble for my sake, an utter stranger to you, and I really do not think I should be act-_ ing honestly with you if [I did not warn you | that I have penetrated your disguise.” ‘*Ts it possible?” asked the other, annoyed. ‘* Yes, I recognized our first meeting,” Bla evidently | © replied. ou on the occasion of | ‘*T have a | trust you will not think any the worse of me be- cause I was brave enough to dare the risk?” ‘‘Think any the worse of you!” the Fresh ex- Claimed. ‘‘ Indeed I do not; my heartfelt grati- tude is yours, and I sincerely hope the time may come when I will be able to show you, even at the risk of life, how much I prize your kind- ness. ‘* Let us not speak of this again—let us go on as if you did not know who I am, and as if I was not conscious that you possessed the knowledge. ‘You may call me Jack, your honest, sincere friend, Jack, and now, good-night!” The rider’s hand was extended: Blake hastened to grasp it. A moment the two palms touched, and then away went the horseman at a brisk trot. ‘*T must be a deucedly lucky fellow,” the Fresh soliloquized, as he remained motionless for a few moments, watching the steed and rider as they disappeared from sight in the gloom of the night. ‘*T contrive to find friends everywhere. ‘‘T came into Santa Fé witout knowing a soul in the town, and now I can boast of a friend- ship which a king might envy. ‘** Decidedly Iam in luck; my fortunate star must be in the ascendant, and that bodes ill for the success of my enemy’s plans, ‘* And, by the way, who is this enemy—this secret, silent enemy who has determined to. either run me out of the town or to kill me? ‘*T must confess I am entirely in the dark. As far as I know since I came to Santa Fé [ haven’t interfered with anybody to such an ex- os that the town isn’t big enough to hold both of us.’ Blake had been slowly progressing back to- ward the hotel, while he had been indulging in these thoughts, and by the time he had finished the reflections which we have chronicled had reached the building. The landlord, the jovial Jimsonweed, was en- joying a pipe at the back door when Blake came up, and the Fresh immediately proceeded to pump him in a most scientific manner in regard to the Apache chief known as the Painted Bean. The host knew all about the notorious red-skin, and gave Blake a full history of the Apache chieftain. ‘*And where is he now?’ asked the Fresh, carelessly, after the other had finished. ‘* Down on the reservation in Arizona,” Jim- sonweed replied. ‘* Oh, he don’t hang out then round Santa Fé?” ‘Oh, no: he drops in once or twice a year, mebbe, when he’s up this way on a hunting trip,. but not oftener. ‘*'You see his stamping-grounds are too far off for him to run in hyer much,” ‘* Has he been in town lately?’ Blake asked, putting the question in such a way as to make it appear that he was merely talking for the sake of passing away the time and not because he had any real interest in the subject. ‘*No, Iain’t seen him for I don’t know how er he good six months anyway.” Blake said no more upon the subject, but leav- ing the landlord to enjoy his pipe, sauntered around to the front of the house. He had learned all that he wished to know, The Indians had not yet made their appear- ance in Santa Fé; it was evident then that the were lurking somewhere in. the neighborhood and that the game they intended to play would be one of craft and not of open violence. ‘*T must be on my guard, or these wily red- skins may trip me,” he murmured, as he joined the rang & loungers gathered in front of the Forty Rod Saloon, discussing the news of the day. A a short time the landlord joined them, and the conversation turned upon shooting. There were some ‘‘ boss liars” in the crowd, and they now turned themselves loose—to use the Westernism. To judge from the yarns they told, such won- derful marksmen as they were had never been seen before. Only the Fresh was silent, and finally some of the boasters, noticing this, began to banter him with a view of drawing him out. But Blake only laughed at the attempt. “Oh, I ain’t much of a shot, I reckon,” he said at Jast. ‘*T spose I could hit the side of a house if it was big enough and not too far away.” Just then Jimsonweed happened to look dowm very keen memory for both voices and faces, | the street, and he immedia sung out: and seldom forget either the one or the other, | but as I perceived it was your wish te remain | unknown I did not deem it wise to tell you that | you were , ‘* But now that you have come again and ren- ‘‘Oh, hold your hosses, boys; hyer come some red-skins! And if my eyes den’t deceive me it’s that old "Pache son-of-a-gun, Painted Bean, and his kids.” All eyes were immediately turned in the di- boo comic :