Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 154 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

a J es ———___ —_—_—_—_—__ escaping with life—but that chance is one too many. He knows too much for us to run the slightest risk. Let him tell what he has seen this day, and the price of hempen rope would double itself. No, Antone, you must be satis- fied with some less romantic revenge.” A low, bitter laugh came from the dying out- law. ‘*'You do not know how a man like me can hate when he is brought to death’s door, and knows that he can wreak a bitter ag A ig the one who laid him low. Tio Tomas shall die and asIsaid. You cut me short before I had finished the sentence. ‘You all know Tio Tomas—many of you bave known him for years. How many of you have ever heard him read or write?” The outlaws interchanged quick glances, and their faces lightened up, for now they began to understand more clear 7 ‘‘No one,” responded Gaspard, ‘ He can do neither.” ‘* Good! bring my horse here and prepare to carry out my orders to the very letter. Even should Tio Tomas escape with his life from their little pleasure ride, be sure he will never betray us, for before we bid him adieu, J will cut out his tongue, roast it and then force it down his own throat !” For a brief space the outlaws, blood-stained and crime-hardened as they were, stood aghast at this truly diabolical speech. None of them were saints, all brutal and ferocious as a life training in crime could make them, yet this devilish proposal took them by surprise and for the moment awed them. But only for a moment. It would be a new sensation, They all hated the honest old gam- busino. His life meant danger if not death to them. Then there was the sacred law of the band to whicb they had all subscribed. This remembrance was the hair that turned the scale, and a wild cheer arose as they joined in the satanic laugh raised by the dying man, ‘*Good!” eried Gaspard, his white teeth — wolfishly in the firelight. ‘‘ A tongue- ess Mazeppa! hat think you of that, Tio Tomas?” as he turned to where the old man still lay. There was no reply, only a glare of deadly hatred from the veteran’s eyes. He knew that he was doomed to death, and resolved that he would not add to the triumph of his enemies by leading for the mercy which he knew would denied him. ‘‘Bring up the horse, some of you!” cried , his worst passions in the ascendency, and eager to witness the punishment inflicted. ‘‘Now Antone, here is a knife—the very one the old villain carved you so neatly with. See if you can use it as deftly.” As he ae Gaspard grasped Tio Tomas by the throat and dragging him to where the dying outlaw sat, forced him to his knees. The men came up, leading a young and spirited horse, a all crowded around to witness the horrible eed. Antone flourished the steel, still stained with his own blood, before the face of the old man, but Tio Tomas never flinched, his black eyes looking defiant hatred into those of his enemy. Antone grasped him by the beard and wrenched his mouth open, but just at that in- stant came a startling interruption. CHAPTER XVIL. PHANTOMS OF THE NIGHT. JOAQUIN uttered a fierce, wild cry as he saw the noose of his lasso close around the throat of Pedro Canales, and felt the sudden pluck that jerked the drunken rascal off his feet and upon the table as the young Sonorian wheeled his horse and dashed k across the court-yard to the great gates. The fellow-servants of the doomed man stood as though petrified when Joaquin entered and uttered bis bold defiance, but when Pedro Cana- les was: lassoed and dragged helplessly the length of the table, scattering wine flasks and cups, abject terror seized upon them one and all, and there was a general rush for cover the majority diving under the heavy table where they mes to —_ the doom which had over- taken their chief, for that one night. But this panic was only of brief duration. As the darmg deed was not promptly followed up by a general attack, hot rage n to take the Sie: of abject fear, and gradually the wild, angry shout of blood for blood arose. First the boldest men crept forth from beneath the table, and their example lent the remainder the necessary nerve. o one demurred when Sanchez the One-eyed assumed command. ‘‘Get arms and then to borse, comrades!” he shouted as he rushed from the building. ‘‘If too late to save the life of our friend, at least we can avenge his death!” Joaquin Murieta had anticipated hot and speedy pursuit, if indeed he was ever permitted to leave the court-yard alive. Yet, had he known that his own death must pay the forfeit be would not then bave pan for a second thought, so intensely bitter was the memory of the a en he had suffered when tempora- rily oe ess in the brutal grasp of Pedro Cana- ] was forgot save that blind, unreason- eee eee eee Oa ne ee 1 ee ing thirst for vengeance, and as his good horse dashed per the great ae at full speed, dragging a fearful clog behind it, Joaquin laughed long and loud, an unearthly echo in his voice that spoke of incipient madness, In that moment was born the spasmodic fury for lack of a better term—which in after days rendered the name of Joaquin Murieta a terror on the Pacific slope. At such times he wasa madman, whose devilish thirst only human blood could quench. Those who knew him best, declare it their belief that be was no more re- Fons for what he did in such moments, than any wild beast that had been baited to fury and madness. On this occasion, ason those which it fore- shadowed, the terrible outburst was of brief duration, and Joaquin suddenly drew rein, glancing over his shoulder to where lay the dead and mutilated mass which had once been Pedro Canales. A convulsive shudder ran over bis frame, and his head was raised to cast the lasso with its horrible weight from off his saddle-bow, but at that moment came a fresh outburst of fury from the direction of the corrals, Among the shouts and yells Joaquin could detect black and bitter threats against himself as the comrades of Pedro Canales hastily led forth their horses, and the dark, ugly scow] again disfigured hiscountenance. The outburst of emotional insanity had away, but with it also vanished the manly regrets for that terrible revenge he had inflicted, and after that night’s work, Joaquin Murieta was a yreatly changed man, for then he first realized how sweet was revenge for revenge’s own sake. ‘Tf they will hunt the jaguar, let them beware his claws!” The words fell from his lips with a fierce dis- tinctness that caused the young Sonorian to start as though some other person had uttered them, then, with a short laugh at his stupidity in failing to recognize his own voice, Joaquin cast a swift and comprehensive glance around m, During all the evening a storm had been threatening in the heavens, black clouds chasing one another in broken masses athwart the round face of the moon. Such was still the case, though in a lesser degree, and Joaquin knew that the storm had passed them by for the time henng: A dare-devil thought struck him as the bright moon sailed from under a cloud, and gathering up his reins, he glanced back to where the re- tainers of Don uel Camplido were poring forth from the corrals. A clear yell of mock- ing defiance poured from his lungs, and as an angry response floated back to his ears, he shook aloft his clinched right hand and shouted aloud: ‘“Tam Joaquin Murieta! Follow me ye who dare—but all who come will never return on their own feet!” The odds were more than a score to one, and that score with their brains fired by strong drink. Wild yells and fierce curses rent the air as, with one accord, wer plied their quirts and thundered away over the level plain, eager to drink the heart’s blood of the audacious aven- er ag Pine see that the body of Pedro ‘anales still hung at the end of the lasso that had torn him from their midst, making t bounds as the ed of the fugitive’s horse increased, and this soul-sickening sight but increased their lust for vengeance. Joaquin laughed aloud as he heard them, for he knew that fe had but to cut or slip the lasso with its dread weight that acted as a drag, in order to easily distance the best and swiftest footed animal among his pursuers, but the fact that the leading men were slowly gaining on him, gave him not tbe slightest uneasiness, Swiftly as he had decided, it was not without fully weighing all the chances, pro and con, and though his enemies were but fairly warming up to the chase, he knew that it was rapidly drawing to an end. A swift glance upward showed him a dense cloud of considerable extent, just beginning to creep over the face of the full moon, and a grim smile curled his lip as the glance was turned backward at his pursuers. ‘They were riding hard on his track, already strung out as the swiftest horses forged ahead—then all vanished in the gloom. Joaquin, as a lure, laughed long and loudly as he kept on his former course, but then wheeled abruptly to the left and put his horse to fall , the muffled hoofs only giving out a dull, thumping sound that no ear could dis- tinguish more t two score yards away. or several hundred yards Joaquin raced thus, then once more described an acute angle to the left, now riding direct for the rancho it- self, by a course lying parallel to that of his pursuers! y Drawing up his horse to a walk, Joaquin bent over in the saddle and listened intently. A grim smile showed bis teeth as*he heard the rapid thumping of many hoofs on the sand soil, and as he strained his keen eyes throug the gloom, he could just distinguish his ene- mies, like links in some gigantic chain, or phanton of the night blindly chasing a will-o’- he-wisp! uin, the Saddle King. 19 —— ny ‘‘They half believe me a devil now—when yonder cloud rolls away and they can see naught human before them, they will know I am a fiend!” he muttered with a low, bard laugh, as he once more urged his good horse on. As the irregular outlines of the rancho and its outbuildings loomed up before him, Joaquin made sure that his menos were in working order, then rode fearlessly up to the great gate, pausing beneath the stone archway and _pull- ing in the weighty lasso, hand over band. When sufficient slack was gained, he loosened the end from the saddle-bow, and cast it over the archway. Securing it again, he fastened it to the pommel, then rode slowly away, only jausing when he saw the mangled corpse of edro Canales clear of the ground and dan- gling beneath the arch, Thanks to the rough masonry, it was no great task for Joaquin to hold the body in place while taking in the lasso hand over band as his horse slowly approached the gate, and then knotting the rope ily, the deed was done, just as the heavy cloud rolled away from the moon whose clear beams lighted up all surrounding objects with almost the distinctness of noonday. Joaquin laughed harshly as he surveyed the grim evidence of his vengeance. ‘“* No doubt but what the story will spread far and fast enougb, but there is one to whom it must speak louder than to others,” he muttered, producing pencil and paper and hastily writing: “Let the fate of this miserable tool warn Bon Manuel Camplido how strictly 1 keep my oaths. On this corpse, I swear to hang the master of this rancho in the same manner, from his own gateway, within one week from date, “ Signed Joaquin Mouriera,”’ Impaling the note on his knife-blade, he drove the weapon to its hilt in the breast of the-dan- gling carcass, then wheeled his horse and rode swiftly away. Far away over the plains he could just dis- tinguish those who had set out to avenge Pedro Canales, huddled in a close group, no doubt dis- cussing his mysterious vanishment. A grim smile curled his lip, but Joaquin felt no partic- ular desire for their closer acquaintance, just then, and bearing to the left, they were soon lost to view. , His dread vengeance accomplished, there came reaction. The future looked very black to the young Sonorian. He knew that his beloved Carmela was a cap- tive in the power of Don Manuel Camplidc— knew that she had been captured while on t). way to her aunt’s hacienda; but beyond that Le was at sea, and hardly knew which way to turn. Alone, it did not seem possible for him to accomplish anything, without a more definite clew to work upon, and he dare not apply tor aid to any of the rancheros, for he doubted not that the black calumny had been spread far and wide. Should he make such a venture, he would be seized and held as a mur- derous outlaw, if indeed the popular indigna- tion did not culminate in his speedy h. nging for the murder of Don Carillo Felix. “To Don Manuel Camplido I owe it all—ten thousand curses rest upon his head!” he cried aloud, half-crazed by the terrible situation in which he found bimself. ‘If I can only find him—only meet bim face to face on equal terms, with no one to interfere—I ask no more of fate!” A sort of stupor crept over him. The reins fell upon the neck of his horse, his head drooped forward upon his chest, and his almost nerve- less form swayed unsteadily in the saddle at each movement of his horse, like that of a drunken man, And such would one in igno- rance of the facts have deemed him, A stouter-hearted man than Joaquin Murieta was at that date, never drew the breath of life, yet when all that be bad undergone dur- ing the last thirty hours be remembered, the wonder is not that he failed now, but that he bad upheld so long against such odds. First the trial of skill with Don Manuel Camplido and the quarrel which followed—and there 1s a much greater waste of bodily strength as will power, in facing and cowing a score of armed enemies, even if they be cowardly, than the careless reader may believe—then the in- terview with Carmela, the bitter insults of Don Felix and the after encounter with Don Luis, where he had to fight barder against him- self than against the brother of his loved one. Then came the night surprise and capture, the deadly struggle with Pedro Canales ending in being dragge by the neck—but why recapitu. late? In that brief time. as measured by hours and minutes, the young Sonorian, only a bey, after all, had undergone enough to utteriy break down the strongest veteran, Add to it all that neither bite nor sup had passed his lips since noon of the previous day, and there can be no marvel at his me into a stupor that ike. unnerved mind and body a How long he rode thus, Joaquin Murieta never knew, but he was aroused to conscious- ness by a thorny limb coming in contact with bis face, and instinctively he caught up the bri- dle-reins and checked his horse. As he stared half-vacantly around him, Joa- ECORNIELOOO Cc <S @ (0)