Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 154 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

| 1 , - oe -- ~ — — bridle, their animals would at ares controlled, and a six-foot wall is no trifling ob- stacle under the most favorable circumstances. To make the leap from such a narrow trail, with the deep barranca ya. niig beside them, coubled the peril. A singie missiep, the least miscalculation, would be almost certain death. With a clear field and no favor, J aquin | Murieta would have cared as little for the pvo- posed test as he pretended. He knew his horse, and his horse knew its master. More than once they had performed equally as perilous ivats, to forget Hatin as soon as over, but now the circumstances were different. Joaquin re- alized that he had not one friend present. He had taken no pains to gain their good will, look- ing down upon them as inferior beings, and rather displaying than disguising his contempt. On the contrary, Camplido was a favorite, and the young Sonorian felt that there would be foul play toward himself if he gave them the slightest opportunity. iding aside, he watched the movements of his riva ' Evidently Camplido did not underestimate the feat he had marked out, and was resolved not to throw away a chance. Mounting his barebacked steed, he rode slowly along the edge of the barranca, stroking the proud animal’s arching neck and whispering to it soothingly. Then, by degrees, he increased his speed, riding close to the verge but turning aside before reaching the parallel barrier. At length all could see that he was about to make the venture, and breathlessly they await- ed. Back a hundred yards Camplido rode, then wheeled and spoke sharply to his horse, the no- ble creature darting swiftly along the escarp- ne governed alone by its rider’s thighs and cnees, One sharp cry as the wall was neared, then the stallion rose into the air like a. bird, its hind hoofs barely retyen,| the top of the wall. A wild, united yell of admiration burst from the crowd, but this was cut short as they saw Joaquin set his steed in motion to follow his rival, acting thus promptly the more surely to avoid the treachery which he felt sure would be shown him if practicable. With perfect confidence in his horse, Joaquin went through no preliminary motion, but rode straight for the wall at f speed, crouching slightly forward, one hand touching his horse’s neck, From the footprints of its predecessor the * black stallion rose into the air, but at that in- stant a gaudy red scarf flashed up from the further side of the wall and fluttered its fringe tairly against one side of its face—the right or side furthest from the barranca! | A wild snort of terror burst from the startled animal, and even while in mid-air it flinched and turned half-way around, striking heavily upon the end of the wall, A stone gaye way—then came a confused scramble—a cloud of dust—a wild, pierc scream that was cut short by a sickening th upon the cruel rocks below! CHAPTER II. TREACHERY FITLY REWARDED. But it was only the poor horse that fell. The moment that flag fluttered before his eyes, Joaquin realized how cunningly his bitter enemies had ned. Like a flash of light he remembered that sign made by Pedro Canales, the black-browed ruffian whom he knew to be the peranuel follower of Manuel] Camplido. He could now read that signal aright, and a flerce lust for vengeance sprung up in his heart, even as he hung over the very jaws of death. Just how it was accomplished, not one of the excited lookers-on could ever explain, but by a swift, desperate struggle, Joaquin Murieta stood erect upon the stone wall amid a cloud of lime and dust, while his good horse went down to a cruel death upon the ragged bowlders below. A hoarse shout of devilish triumph arose from the lips of Pedro Canales as he beheld the black stallion flinch and swerve from his flaunt- ing scarf, for he knew that his hated enemy had not one chance in a thousand of escaping death ; and in that moment of triumph a wished Joaquin to know whose brain had plotted, whose hand had executed his downfall. But the young sonorian made the most of that single chance, and, by a wonderful display of activity and nerve, leaped clear of his struggling horse and alighted upon the stone wall, even as the treacherous rascal gave vent to his exulta- tion almost at his very feet. A sharp, dropped ery broke from Joaquin’s lips, and_he dropped heavily upon the unmasked traitor, dashin th feet into his upturned face and crushing him to the earth a bleeding, bewil- dered mass. Lightly he ene clear of the fellow, who conf y gasp out his amazement and terror as he gied to arise. In one hand he still erened e iron ramrod of an escopette to which the red scarf was attached, and the sight of this, recalling his narrow escape and the death of his loved horse, maddened Joaquin muchas it might have enraged a baited wild bull. With one s thrust of his foot Joaquin rolled Pedro Canales over, then tore the ramrod be un- | from his rm Spey w SP raining blows upon his writhing | the paren of his good right arm. ood followed each and every stroke, for the young Sonorian was thoroughly aroused, and bis victim howled out most lustily, mingling his prayers for mercy with broken curses and furi- ous threats. All this had transpired almost with the rapid- ity of thought. To do him justice, not one of the party save Camplido and Canales even sus- ected the apomectedt | that was to be played, and before they could fairly realize the truth, the wild yells of the rascal groom came to their ears from the spot where his punishment was being inflicted. Then, with excited shouts, as yet not wholly posted, they rushed to the wall and be- gan clambering over it; but another was before them to the rescue of his comrade in evil. Camplido had not anticipated such a rapid following of his lead, and, as he alighted safely, made no effort to restrain his fiery steed, which was rendered uncontrollable for the moment by the borrible scream emitted by the black stallion as it felt itself whirling down to death, Taken completely by surprise, Camplido was unable to master his horse until punishment was fallin fast and heavy upon his rascally coadjutor, bu then he wheeled and rode swiftly down upon his rival, Even in his madness Joaquin was not one to suffer himself to be taken by surprise, and, with one last blow that bent the stout rod double, he spurned the gg ty lta and faced his prime enemy, revolver in hand. ‘* Back! you murderous scoundrel!” he cried, his tones clear and cold as the knell of death, though his face was hotly flushed and his eyes blazed like living coals. ‘‘ Halt! put up your weapon, or I will Bare your skull with a half-ounce ball!” Camplido was but slightly armed. Sword and pistol-belt had been laid aside when pre: paring for that hazardous leap, leaving him only a long, slender poniard that fitted to a sheath close above his heart. This had been re- tained, not through any thought of need, for the cunning plan of Pedro Canales could scarve- ly fail, ut because one of his race would think sooner of losing his clothes than laying aside his knife. The yells and howling of Canales, the sight of Joaquin Murieta as he plied the blood- stained ramrod, told Camplido plainly enough that his dastardly scheme had failed, and he knew that there must come a speedy reckoning. Mad with baffled rage and hatred, he wheeled his horse and with gleaming knife, dashed back hoping to ride the young Sonorian down before he could realize his danger—only to find the frowning muzzle of a revolver staring full in the face, : Mechanically the bated villain gave the sign that brought his admirably trained horse toa pause, is face was ashen gray, his frame trembling, bis unarmed hand outstretched with an ap ing gesture, For an instant Joaquin kept the cowed rascal covered, ready to fulfill his threat at the least sign of rebellion; but this was not given, and he lowed his weapon with a hard, contemptuous augh. OW retched bungler though he has showed himself your dirty tool is a better man than his master, Manuel Camplido. He tried to do the work assigned him, but you—you tremble and show your coward colors thé moment a man faces you! You are bold enough to at- tempt murder when you believe there is no chance for a return blow from your victim, You can plot with a brutal, ignorant rascal like Pedro Canales, who would Rey cut the throat of his own mother for a single gold onza—” A sudden change came over Manuel Cam- ‘oar ee His face still remained an ashen white, ut the look of abject terror fled from his eyes and gave place toja malignant glow of hatred, while his cowering frame grew more erect, nor did his voice tremble as before. _“* You make bold charges, boy, but they are lies! You have failed to make your boasting good—you have missed the lea you affected to scorn, and now, in hopes of hiding your dis- grace, yourave about treachery and foul play that exists only in rege own imagination. Ha! strike home, Pedro! A dozen onzas if you split his devil’s heart!” The new-born courage of Manuel Camplido is easily explained. While he was cowering be- fore the indignant Sonorian, he saw Pedro Canales slowly pathering himself up from the base of the wall where Joaquin had cast him, hroshing She mingled blood and dust from his eyes with one hand, while the other groped at his belt for the long knife that hung there. A fiendish smile, that was almost a snarl, showed his discolored fangs as he recognized Joaquin, his back turned as he confronted the ex-captain of lancers, Without a moment’s hesitation, he leaped forward, one hand clutching at the a. Sonorian’s throat, the other making a urious stroke with the gleaming weapon—and this it was that drew forth the exultant scream from Camplido’s lips. , But Joaquin Murieta was no ordinary man. Knowing that he stood alone in the midst of a score of unscrupulous enemies, his every sense was upon the alert. He oe es suspected the cause of the abrupt change in the demeanor of eed ---=— Joaquin, the Saddle King. 3 a eee EE bis arch enemy, and this was confirmed by the eager looks of the vaqueroes who had partially ed the stone wall, Faint though it was, he detected the venomous hiss as Canales inhaled his breath in summoning his strength for the assault, and leaping lightly aside, he faced around just as the would-be assassin made his. double stroke. Only his catlike quickness saved him from in- stant death. Even as it was, Canales’s bloody fingers left a mark upon his neck, and the swift- ly descending knife slit open the clothes on his shoulder. But then, as the rascal staggered the heavy pistol-butt descended upon bis head with a sickening crash, and he fell upon his face like a dead man. Joacquin had not time to deal a second blow even if it had been needed, for Camplido ur ed his horse forward, and bending low as he role, struck savagely at his enemy as he . Only a swift side leap saved the youth from the hungry steel, and treading upon a loose stone, his ankle turned, throwing him upon one knee, and causing him to drop his teint With marvelous rapidity he recovered his balance, and then, with a cocked revolver in each hand, he held bis enemies in check, ** Hold hard, all!” his voice rung out clear and apr Sh “The first man who dares take one step forward dies the death of a dog! You know me,” They did know him, and far better now than ever before. Time and again they had wit- nessed his almost marvelous skill with the wea- pons he held, and bitterly as they hated him, not a man among that score dared disobey. ea pc fe horse hud only paused in its swift rush when its breast touched the stone wall. On one side yawned the barranca. He could leave his close quarters only by brushing past the young Sonorian, and the ex-captain knew that apy such attempt could end only in his death. Trembling in every fiber, pale as death, he cowered before that frowning muzzle, the pic- vare of terror. Joaquin held the key of the situation, and the sardonic smile that curled his faintly shaded lip told how thoroughly he enjoyed it. Yet there was death in his fiercely glittering eyes. He firmly meant to kill his bitter enemy in the end, and was only waiting for the craven to make another hostile move to excuse the aveng- ing shot, But first, he should drink the cup of shame down to the last dregs. ‘*Manuel Camplido, cowardly dog, you have run to the end of your tether. You have hired assassins, only less despicable than Phe cod to take my life, Why, you and I both know. You dared not meet me face to face as one bold man should meet another.. You have forfeited — your life, and now I mean to claim my own.” “T never—there is some mistake,” faltered Camplido, only to be cut short by that cold, in- sulting laugh. ‘Liar! Even your own tongue shall betray you. Did you not give Pedro —did Pee not bid him flaunt that rag in the face of my horse, hoping that it would fail in the leap and carry me with it to the bottom of the barranca?” Compliae stammered out a denial, only to be check ‘* Careful! eninen qe ace angen fa die with a lie upon your foul ya I saw the signs that between you two before you dared ac- cept my challenge. I knew you both to be un- scrupulous scoundrels, but | did not think you would dare L PIAY such a dastardly trick, even upon me. You bired Pedro Canales to flaurt that rag; confess it, or, by all the saints! I swear that I will force you at the pistol-muzzie to Brecege me in the blindfold leap I spoke of— and not only that, but if you escape with a whole neck, side by side we will take the leap to the bottom of the barranca!” If th. young Sonorian did not mean all that he said, then he was a most accomplished actor. Camplido at least believed him, and preferred shame to certain death. In a low, husky voice he faltered out a confession of the truth of the charges brought against him, but Joaquin was merciless, “Speak louder, craven dog!” he cried, his voice ringing with utter contempt. ‘Spe: < out, so all may bear clearly. Let these mi: know what a dastardly coyote they have bee: so humbly worshiping and looking up to as on! - a trifle below the saints!” The cornered villain glared around him in hopes of finding some means of escaping this bitter humiliation. But the deadly revyolv. r covered him closely. He could not retreat, H» was too close to the wall to ogg ha and befors he could fling himself over the barrier, a bull: ; would find hislife. Nor could he see any hoy» in the faces of the vaqueros. They were no> of the sort to cling to the fortunes of a defeats il and disgraced leader, and some of those brorzei faces even bore traces of growing contem;.:, Had he succeeded, they would have been pr - fuse in their congratulations and rejoicings; but he had failed—and the young Sonorian wes still keeping one cocked revolver turned in their direction. Joaquin called out warningly: ‘Beware! Make one movement without my ales his orders — EOOO KS com Me (Eo)