Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 114 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

we dl a RE TS RI SO I Sn EI EE ig iE OE SE he ta i a ee, -_— —s Lee ee ee over the way he had come a moment before on anerrand c{humanity. - The “boys” hesitated, glanced at one anothb- er, and silently, sullenly followed the steps of their leader, leaving the Frisco Sharp where he had fallen in the snow! “Why, what is the matter? Wasn’t it a man?” All started at the sweet voice, the questioning eyes, that greeted their return. Mose Finley said not a word, but set his teeth in dogged ferocity. The rest of the “boys” fidgeted uneasily. Tom O’Connor replied: ** Well, yis, ma’am; thrue fur you, it was in- dade a mahn.”’ “Well,” cried the girl with widening eyes, ‘fand have you left him out there to perish in the snow?” “Well, yez see, ma’am,” said Tom, “it’s the Frisco Sharp, jist.” “The Frisco Sharp?’ “No other, faith. It’s only the day before ye come among us wid ver bright smiles, d’ye moind, that the b’ys run the blaggaird out of Bag) ‘* But I do not understand you!” cried Lilian, more and more bewildered. Then, turning to ud ; Wiggins with clasped hands and tremu- ous lips: **Oh, sir! what is the meaning of this? You can not wanton!y leave a fellow-creature to die ae reach of your hand—before your very eyes The judge, who had not been of the rescuing party, but had made no effort to oppose that erdél nbastitaiert now felt ashamed of his in- activity. “* Boys,” he said, in some confusion, ‘‘ perhaps you’d better bring him in.” as pe bape !” repeated the girl, her cheeks, but now as pale as a lily, glowing with sudden in- dignation, ‘‘Is it a debatable question? If you would not be guilty of deliberate murder, I charge you to go to his relief, and at once!” “Whar’s the use o’ h’istin’ him out o’ whar he ain’t doin’ nothin’ to nobody, an’ puttin’ our- selves to the trouble o’ stringin’ of him up the minute we git bim into camp?” argued big Mose Finley, with more logic than humanity. ‘‘ Bet a hoss, I don’t eat my own words! Wetoldhim to git, an’ he’s got to stay git; or the minute he crosses the jail limits he’s got swing!” Lilian gazed from one to the other, unable to comprehend this vindictive matice, ‘Ye see, Miss Lilian,” explained Moxy, “ this | hyar gent is a card sharp, an’ a doggoned lucky one, to draw it mild. But the boys didn’t take much stock in the luck, but set it down toslight. So they fired him out, with a warnin’ that ef he was ketched round hyar agin’, he’d stretch hemp. Now leave him out yonder, an’ he’ll in his checks easy; an’ nobody’ll have to dirty their hands with the job. But fetch him in hyar, an’ he’ll swing, as sure as shootin’!” ‘*Oh, monstrous!” cried the girl. ‘‘ Cannot you see that the man has not returned volun- rily? He is driven to your door to ne certain death in this awful tempest. Give him a chance for his life, and no doubt when the storm is past he will gladly go away and trouble you no more. Whatever she might have said further, a new element entered the situation in the appearance of the Gentleman from Pike, accompanied by faithful Judd Baker, “Nonsense, Judd,” he was seh, 2 ““Do you take me for a baby? I’m worth half a dozen dead men, yet!” And indeed, though yet pale, he had conva- lesced beyond the most sanguine hopes of those whose love for him made them jealous of every moment of suffering. “Will! Willi—what imprudence!” cried Lil- jan, springing toward him. a Only a little surprise, V echage he smiled, fondly. ‘‘See! I have only been playing off to prolong the pleasure of having so sweet a nurse. And he walked across the room and back with a firm tread. _“ But don’t waste any more time on so un- worthy an object as 1, ere’s the poor devil that Judd tells me the boys went to rescue?” ‘Oh, Will!” cried the girl, ‘they have aban- doned him!” Then followed an explanation in which words ¢ burning indignation mingled with tearful illiam Carleton was as much shocked as was his ward. ‘Men, this can’t be!” he exclaimed; but sul- len looks assured him that it was indeed true. **Can you be men?” he cried, his pale cheeks | suddenly glowing, and his eyes flashing. Then with a sudden resolve: . “Judd,,I can rely on you. them a lesson in humanity !” “Fardner, I’m with you, every time!” cried honest Judd Baker. : “Gentlemen "—turning again to the crowd— “T appeal to such of you as have a spark of m left to give this dying fellow-man a per among us until he can go away in “Ob, t tment!” ded Lil- orego your resentment!” secon We can teach | The Gentleman from Pike. a ee ian, appealing to them with clasped hands and tearful, pleaaing eyes. ‘* Be the powers o’ mud!” cried Tom O’Connor, with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. ‘ Niver be it said of an O’Connor that he withstud the en- tr’aties of innocence an’ beauty! Command me? Divil fly away wid me, sowl an’ body, but T’ll folly yez to the ends o’ the earth! Whist, b’ys! Will the loikes av yez stand out ag’in’a woman? Troth! they’re not so plenty in this country that they’re not to have their way.” But even gallantry was a vain eppeal to the men of Hard Luck. Their unshaken hatred showed in their sullen, dogged frowns. The clear, stern eye, the decisive ring in the voice of the Gentleman froin Pike, his prompt assured action, had their effect. The men stood inactive, ig for their leader. He—big Mose Finley—only glowered, as yet. A moment Carleton’s eye ran over the sullen group. Then, disdaining further appeal, he turned on his heel and left the saloon, Out over the snow he stalked, followed by Judd Baker, Tom O’Connor and the half-dozen who had shared his escape from the savages, until they came to that still form on which the pure white flakes of snow were falling one by one, The Gentleman from Pike and Judd Baker bent over and took hold of the unconscious man at the same time turning his face to view. Then the former uttered a sharp, gasping cry. “Stray!” And with his arm, into which the strength of a ae seemed suddenly infuse, he swept Judd Baker aside, and himself shrunk back. The pallor of death was on his passion-distort- ed face, the glare of a fury in his eyes, as fora moment he s with clenched hands and set ey peotny and muttering :— } Judd Baker and the others regarded him with mouth agape. ‘* What in Cain, cap’n—?’ began Judd. But the man so terribly moved made a super- human effort at self-mastery, brushing his hand across his brow on which great beads of icy sweat had started. “Take him up and bring him to the house,” he said, in a voice so hoarse that it was unrecog- nizable. Immediately he turned back over the path they had come, walking as if that terrible throe of emotion had exhausted him. Wondering, the men lifted their burden and followed him, not hearing his muttered words:— ‘* He is helpless. I would not crush a worm that appealed to me like that. And they shall not harm him. We willall take the same les- son in humanity. But afterwards!—when he is himself again !—” He did not conclude. His frame quivered with the restraint he put upon himself, Once in the saloon, he turned his back when the Frisco sharp began to show signs of return- ing animation under the ministrations of Judd er. A “‘stiff horn” set the gambler on his legs again, though he looked emaciated and caday- erous enough, as he huddled near the fire, draw- ing closer about him an Indian blanket ill in keeping with the rest of his dainty attire. ‘“Gentlemen,” he said, looking round upon his frowning auditors with his wonted noncha- lance, ‘‘since my de from your hospita- ble camp, my path has not been strewed with roses, f first fell into an Indian ambuscade. Then came the storm, which caugh} the savages themselves in a pretty trap. At the end of two days I think they were debating the question of roasting me for food, when, with my flask of brand aby {ho with laudanum which I am in the habit of keeping to pacify a A bps tooth Im ed to put my two guards to sleep, an 80 effec a Aa Since then, I have spent most of my time creeping on hands and knees through the snow, with wretched blanket my only protection from the cold, I thought that my, pltiable condition might reat as an excuse for in ng my presence upon Hard Luck Camp.” i a ‘‘ Waal,” said big Mose Finley, “you knowed what you'd findhyar. Boys, I reckon this is as a time as any!” And he uncoiled a rope from his waist. je capi cried the Gentleman from Pike, and tween the would-be hangman and his iMtendad victim. AES CHAPTER XI. THE NEW DANGER. WITH @ woman’s quick sympathy, Lilian Am- berleigh had hastened forward to meet the rescuing party, as they returned bearing the body of the unconscious outcast. But her guardian had clutched her wrist, re- straining her rudely. “Do not touch him !” he had said, in a harsh, raspin voice that she had never beard before. “Ww oy pay dg rotested and questioned, ng at him in wonder. enn bey without question!” he bad command- ed, frowning at her!—-her whom he had never before touched or ad save in tenderness. And mute, abashed, the girl bad shrunk away, and followed him into the house, ag he O past her, her lips quivering, her eyes dim wit): tears, her gentle heart swelling with the first wound he had ever inflicted. She saw him walk tothe window and stand with folded arms, gazing out into the falling snow, paying no further heed to the man whom he had just now championed, nor to the won- dering gaze of the miners who were not a little puzzled by this sudden change of feeling. Wonder checked the falling tears of the girl, as she saw the strong frame of the man who she now knew had not wantonly wounded her shaken by a terrible battle of repressed emo- tion—so fierce that, as he struggled with clenched hands and set teeth, face pale and rigid, and eyes whose slumbrous fire even his strong will could not quench all at once, great beads of icy sweat cozed from his forehead. What did it all mean? Was this man not a stranger? Was he connected with some terri- ble wrong or suffering whose lengthened sha- dow reaching out from the dead past bad clouded her guardian’s life ever since Lilian’s recollection? Had fate brought these two to- gether, that this good might be returned for evil—the wronger to be succored by the wronged? Silently the girl drew to the side of the man and rested her cheek against bis arm iu word- less sympathy. Then came big Mose Finley’s menace and the man so strangely moved sprung onee more to the rescue of one whom he had, perhaps, better cause to hate. The Gentleman from Pike drew no weapon, as he faced thut frowning mob; but there was that in his eye which told that he would pro- tect with his life the shivering wretch whom he had saved from the storm. The bad element of Hard Luck was bent on having the life of the Frisco sharp. The less bruta rtion of the little community, under the leadership of Judge Wiggins, remained in- active, when they might with a word have turned the seale in favor of humanity. It is doubtful what might been the issue had not Lilian Amberleigh sprung forward and Pena Judge Wiggins’s arm, crying:— ‘*Oh, sir! you are a man! you cannot stand coldly by and permit this monstrous en ge Give him but a shelter among us unti © storm is past. Surely you can spare one of your cabins, if you are unwilling to let him stay here in the hotel.” ‘There’s my shanty. Faith, there’s no roof. in’ on it; but he can dig it out an’ muke shift to abide thur,” suggested Tom O’Connor. ‘‘That is all we ,” said the Gentleman from Pike, who perceived the wisdom of tem- porizing. ‘Let up, boys,” said Judge Wiggins, not ve stotie) «+ A*Bhe offer's He gone Ef he ps to himself, I reckon we kin stand es the few days this blockade is likely to ‘Gents, air we goin’ fur to be backed down in this hyar fashion?” cried big Mose Finley, not to be cheated out of his revenge without a last struggle. “T think you are,” said the Gentleman from Pike coolly, answering for the “‘ boys,” who he saw were falling away from their bloodthirst leader. ‘‘If you are not satisfied, you andrt can step just outside the door, and settle it be- tween us,” There was a determined light in his clear gray eye which cowed the bully. It took one moment, eye to eye, for big Mose Finley to recognize his master. Then, with a murderous scowl of hatred and a muttered oath, he turned. “All right, gents. Ef the hull crowd takes r it wa’n’t none o’ my funeral. remmponnen emt water, remem Hard Luek is a blasted mean place for a white man to live in. It bain’t no pay-dirt, an’ no sand |” Taking no heed of Mr. Finley’s expressions of disgust, the Gentleman from Pike said, sa ae ‘Come! The sooner we set to work, the sooner we'll have this gentleman under un- nape shelter. Who joins the shovel brigade?” “Hurrah, boys! No shirking!” cried Judd Baker; and his brisk example was followed by all that little band that had followed Carleton from the death-trap; but of the original denizens of Hard Luck only Tom O’Connor responded. From the moment that the Gentleman from Pike stepped forward so that the Frisco Sharp could d einguish him from the crowd, the latter stared at him in stupefied bewilderment, The other paid no heed, but went out with the shovelers, seemingly unconscious of weak- ness from his recent wound. They who had volunteered were few, but worked with a right good will; and soon a path was dug to Tom O’Connor’s shanty, the walls of which had been erected, though it was roofless, and therefore full of snow. While it was being closed with a temporary roof, the sbovelers cleared out the snow, dis- closing a hole—‘‘ wha-ur,” said Tom O’Connor, ruefully, “I’ve pegged an’ pegged, wid divil o cint comin’ out beyant me praties an’ potheen! So says I to the b ‘Don’t waste yer toime roofin’ that shanty.’ Faith, I'll not drop precious sweat in that hole anny more.” iS 9)(0 (0) (© AMUCE G (0)