Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 154 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

Instantly Joaquin drew rein and faced the young man, his jaws firmly set, a cold, danger- ous light in his ag Don Luis was the eldest living child of Don Carillo Felix, only a little past his per bic hl though he looked much older, thanks to the wi d and reckless life he had led. Naturally endowed with more than ordinary graces of both mind and person, tall, handsome and high-spirited, it was an unlucky day for Don Luis when he first fell under the evil influ- ence of Don Manuel Camplido, which occurred when he was a mere boy. Led on and encour- aged by that arch-rascal, the young es plunged headlong into the worst of follies and dissipation, until now he was but the wreck of his former self, a gambler, drunkard and reck- less libertine; even worse—-a criminal whose life lay in the hands of bis evil tutor. ‘You wish to speak to me, senor?’ coldly de- manded Joaquin as Don Luis drew rein before him, so close that their horses’ heads fairly touched each other. ** Would I have taken the trouble to halt you, else?” sharply retorted the young Spaniard, an ugly frown upon his face. ‘* Your name is Joaquin Murieta, and you are a servant em- ployed on the Santa Anna estate?” A hot flush swept over the young Sonorian’s face, more at the insolent tone than the words emplo ed, but he bore in mind the fact that this was Carmela’s brother, a quarrel with whom must be prejudicial to his hopes of eventually winning her hand. ‘* That is my name, senor.” ‘* And rank—but let that pass for the present. I simply wish to say that you have been skulk- ing around these premises quite long enough. More than that, you have had the sublime im- pudence to repeatedly annoy my sister, the Se- norita Carmela Felix, with waylaying her dur- ing her rides, presuming upon your having once rendered her a slight service. Because of that trifling service, you are given a civil warning, instead of that which your impudence deserves, If you are a wise man, you will not wait for a repetition, but leave this part of the country at once, before worse comes of it.” “Indeed! and may I ask what may be the alternative of refusal?’ asked Joaquin, with a poorly disguised sneer. ‘You will not be such a fool as to neglect this warning—you dare not!” ‘| dare almost anything when in the humor,” replied Joaquin, with a short, careless laugh. The young Spaniard raised his whip-hand as though to strike, but Joaquin did not flinch, and there was a dangerous light in his brilliant eyes that warned Don Luis to think twice before he rushed to extremities. Instead, he hung the whip to the pommel of his saddle, thus leaving his right hand at liberty to grasp a more certain weapon, “The alternative is easily spoken. If you dares to speak to my sister again, or even beseen lurking around this estate, | will set my ser- vants upon you with dogs and quirts. This for the first offense. For the second—death !” ‘* Thank you for nothing!” retorted Joaquin. ‘You have had your say, and I have listened to you quietly. Now let me say a word in turn. ‘*T am a man, white and free born. My blood is as pure as that flowing in your veins, and as an honest man, [ hold myself the equal of the proudest and highest of the human race, saved the life of your sister. I love her, and only this day she confessed that my passion was fully reciprocated. While I draw the breath of life no other man shall wed her. As for you —you are her brother, and therefore your life is sacred to me; but do not press me too far—I give you the warning in a kindly spirit.” This speech flowed forth so fluently that Don Luis could not have interruped its current even had he made the effort. But he was soamazed, so dumfounded ‘by such audacity in a mere vaquero—one scarcely ranked above the hum- blest peons—that he could only stare with Joaquin, the Sad ee ge ——— ———_$$ $$$ $$$ adversary, and for a brief space they remained thus, their fuces nearly sag fierce con- tempt blazing in Joaquin’s eyes. Then, with a short, hard laugh, be Hong the hand from bit, sat A ‘“You are her brother, and that makes your life safe—but beware! Though I care not to have your blood upon my hands, do not crowd me too hard, or—’ The sentence was never finished. Furious at being foiled, at being so unceremoniously han- dled by one younger and smaller than himself, Don Luis snatched his sword from its scabbard and savagely attacked the young Sonorien. With wonderful rapidity Joaquin whirled his horse around and dashed past the young Span- iard, warding off the, stroke leveled at him, with the barrel of his revolver. A dozen lengths away he drew rein, and as Don Luis, now fairly frothing at the mouth, wrenched his horse around and charged, We rose his pistol and spat forth an unerring bullet. A metallic clink and clatter—the highly tempered sword- blade flew in pieces, and Don Luis found him- self unarmed, wholly at the mercy of him whom he had insulted and twice sought to kill. trial was too much for his dissipation-weakened nerves, and pale es though already a corpse, he shrunk before thegleveled weapon. For the fraction of a minute Joaquin kept him covered by the frowning muzzle, then lowered and replaced the weapon, with a low, mocking laugh that cut to the quick, so full was it of ut- ter scorn. ‘““Twice you have tried and failed, Don Luis Felix—beware the third time. If you force me to strike, I will strike to kill!” These words he uttered as he brushed past the discomfited Spaniard, feeling assured that no other lesson would be needed at present; but be underestimated the bitter rancor with which the heart of Don Luis was filled. Openly defied, treated with the pitying, almost contemptuous forbearance one might exhibit toward a silly, passionate boy, and, worse than all, conscious of having betrayed positive fear, he forgot all else in a burning thirst for the heart’s blood of this insolent vaquero. He had but one weapon remaining—the lasso neatly coiled at his sad- dle-bow—but in the hands of one as expert as himself in its use, this was far more to be dreaded by an enemy than either knife or sword, There was no timeyfor deliberation, He recognized the horse ridden by Joaquin, and knew that its speed was far superior to that of the animal he himself bestrode. Should his urpose be suspected, or his first cast fail—but it did not fail, anda yell of frantic exultation burst from his lips as he beheld the snaky coils settle fairly over the shoulders of the young Sonorian! Instantly he wheeled his horse, to | pluck his enemy from the saddle—then a few 'more bounds, and there would be naught to fear from that mangled, disfigured mass of hu- manity. Joaquin was taken wholly by surprise, his first intimation of his deadly peril being when the folds of the lasso eee before face. Then it was that his lightning quickness of thought and action st him in good stead, One instant’s irresolution must have ended in his death. Already the well-greased noose was tightening as his hand bore heavily upon the I powerful bit, lifting his snorting steed into the air and whirling him round on his hind feet— already he was being dragged from the saddle with a sensation of being cut in twain just above where his elbows were pinned to his ribs —but then a touch of the spurs, and the horrible strain was relieved! Searce one man in a thousand could have performed the feat, even if fully prepared and € ting the ordeal. on Luis felt the rope tighten, and another savage shout parted his ie as he turned his head to witness the downfall of the man he now hated so intensely. Instead, he beheld that wonderful maneuver—saw the man whom he had dle King. } for now that the The | 7 ee = —— looked around, and fresh horror seized upon him. He believed Joaquin meant to ride around him and thus secure a fold of the lasso about his body, then halt his horse and crush the life out of him, even if the terrible cord did not literally cut his carcass in twain! In vain he sought to free the lasso from the pommel of hissaddle. Joaquin kept it stretched tight, and he had no weapon by which the strands could be cut. Nor could he throw him- self out of the saddle. One thigh was held fast, and slowly but surely that terrible pressure was creeping around his back! He thought of checking his horse, and even tightened the reins with that intention, but fortunately he realized the frightful result which must surely follow—both horse and rider would be over- thrown, and even should he escape. being crushed by the fall, his limb would be broken and mangled, perhaps torn off. Truly the proud youth was being read a ter- rible lesson! Joaquin was watching him closely, and noting the foolish motion, instantly changed bis tactics, first moment of rage was spent, he felt no desire to either kill or cripple his: adversary. Heading directly for Don Luis, drawing in the lasso hand over hand and thus: still holding him helpless, he soon reached the other, and grasping the bits, checked both horses. Dropping the lasso and drawing a revolver he spoke, stern and sharp; ‘Three times within half an hour you have tried to kill me, Don Luis Felix. Ihavea three- fold claim on your Jife, now, and you live only by my mercy. But for your sister, pure as you are evil, | would slay you like a mad wolf; for her sake, I spare your life, but will give you a token to remember this day!” As he concluded, his pistol exploded, cutting off the lobe of the young Spavianes right ear neatly as though with a knife! Then, bowing low, Joaquin turned and gal- loped swiftly away. CHAPTER VI. A BITTER PILL TO SWALLOW. Tue day was bot and sultry, the air close and oppressive even under the grateful shade afforded by the clump of trees which had sprung up around the little way-side spring. Horses were tethered around the edge of the little timber island where they should crop the scanty growth of grass. Scattered here and there within the shade lolled armed men, drowsy, listless, smoking their cigars, interchanging now and then a low, drawling remark, but for the io part feeling too lazy to maintain a conver- sation sation. Near the center of the grove the spring bub- bled up, surrounded by a carpet of thick reen rass. Here two persons were seated—male and emale—father and daughter—Don Carillo Felix and Carmela, The maiden had rolled acigar for her parent, and now she was forming another for her own use. Don Felix beckoned to an attendant—none other than our old friend, Tio Tomas—who immedi- ately produced as lit stick with a living coal glowing in the cleft end. “You can go now,” coldly said Carmela as she tossed the primitive cigar lighter aside after ents. Bee tiny roll. *“* When you are needed, will ca Tio Tomas bowed low, then beat a retreat. Don Felix cast a quick glance at the maiden from under cover of his shaggy white brows, and then the furrows grew deeper on bis fore- head, for he knew from experience that the fair — was about to broach a disagreeable sub- ect. Carmela was paler than usual, and there were dark shadows under her eyes that told of mental anxiety and sleeplessness. There had been a stormy interview between the two, after that exciting episode of the past evening, resulting in positive victory for neither. For the first time in her life, Carmela had dared to show open rebellion against the will of her father. ee meer a eee pees lips at the bold speaker, scarce able to elieve the evidence of his ears, until, with a thrice essayed to murder, wheel and race | Don Felix had managed to silence her then, but low bow, Joaquin passed him by. swiftiy toward him ashe loosened the rope from | he saw now that the battle was all to be fought It was an apparently careless move on the | around his body. over again. part of the young Sonorian, who knew his Again assailed by fear, he plied his spurs ‘Father, you are undergoing all this toil and words must have stung Carmela’s brother to frantically, heading for the distant rancho, | trouble for nothing,” the maiden began, the quick, but heedless as he seemed, the va- | feeling the cold hand of death already grasping | abruptly. ‘‘My heart will change no sooner quero was never more perfectly on the alert. | his heart-strings. Unarmed, he could only flee | at my aunt’s house than at home.”’ He hardly anticipated an assault, but he knew .—yet had his belt bristled with weapons, he “At least you will be where watchful care » that Don Luis had long been an apt pupil of the could hardly have found courage sufficient to | can guard against your disgracing not only treacherous Camplido, whose teachings had . use them against this man—this devil, rather! yourself but the proud race from which you sadly warped a naturally generous and roble | For one moment his life hung trembling in | sprung,” was the cold retort. nature. ‘the balance. Joaquin was thoroughly angered | A vivid flush overspread Carmela’s cheek, and For one instant Don Luis gazed upon the va- by fhese repeated attempts to assassinate him, | a prouder light came into her dark eyes, quero, then, with a grating curse, his spurs 'and his revolver covered the heart of the ange “Disgrace will never ccme to the name of > were plunged rowel-deep into the flanks of his | tive—but only for a moment. Then the pale, | Felix through aught that I do—would that I horse, and as the startled creature bore him alongside, he made a swift, spiteful blow, mean- ing to bury the long blade ot his knife between Joaquin’s shoulders. But impetuous as was his / attack, it was utterly foiled by the wonderful / quickness and dexterity displayed by the va- / quero, Swaying his body swiftly to one side, Joaquin evaded the stroke, then his sinewy fingers closed upon his assailant’s wrist, and by a powerful ixvist the weapon was burled from the now helpless hand. Don Luis was drawn close to his | tear-stained face of Carmela Felix seemed to rise | could say as much for all that bear the name!” between them, and he even fancied be could ‘“What do you mean?” sternly demanded the | hear ber trembling voice pleading for the life of | Spaniard, bu his growing pallor told only too her only brother. plainly that he divined her meaning, and Car- ‘‘Once more Ill spare bim, but I'll read the | mela ignored the question, craven cur a lesson which he will not soon ‘Twice have you accused me of disgrecing “ forget!” he muttered, lowering the weapon and | the name [ bear~and why? Because I beve bending sharply to the left, keeping the rope | dared to love one who loves me in return—a taut as he gained upon the fugitive, by this | man who risked his life to preserve mine, when means pinning the young Spaniard fast in his | he knew not whether I was proudly cr low- ( saddle, _ | born—it might even be aslave. And what can \ As he feit the pressure on his thigh, Don Luis be said against him? Nothing worse than that \ Eomicbooks.Go