Beadle's Dime Library No. 170 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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12 which time Leo was to come and goas he wished, except that he was to report to his captor at least once in every four and twenty bours. These terms were far more favorable than he ——. ——$ | could have expected, and, as his brain cast off | the lingering influence of that baleful drug, he | justly condemned. And even you—” fully appreciated the favor. At least it would give him an Ay pestoeger 4 of setting himself right in the estimation of Belle Gladden. After that, what matter? He was not to accomplish his purpose so easily. Let but one curious eye light upon him, | and the hue and cry would assuredly be raised. Yet, despite this danger, Leo hung around the Gladden place from morn to night. He saw the iant settler return from his disastrous treasure- Parthia, reeling in his walk like a drunken wan, but despite his unceasing watch, he did not catch a single glimpse of his loved one. As the shades of night descended, he grew desperate, and relying upon his intimate ac- uaintance with the watch-dog, he stole cau- tiously 3 to the cabin. Through the window he saw Gladden obey over the fireplace moodily smoking his pipe, his face bruised and swollen, but nothing of Belle. Only for his sacred pledge, he would have boldly entered the cabin, trusting in his inno- cence of wrong to carry him through the toils, but now he dared not venture. struck him. and he glided around to the rear of the building. Softly clambering up on the roof of the lean-to, he bent far over the eaves and succseded in pinning a bit of papér upon the sash of the window to the room in which he knew Belle slept. She could scarcely fail to notice this, on first awakening, and surely she would not deny the urgently worded request thereon ? © Forced to content himself with this faint hope, Leo retreated from the grounds and hastened to report to his captor. Be sure he did not oversleep himself, but before the first gleam of dawn he was lying low in a bushy corner of the snake-fence, his gaze riveted upon the dimly visible house which contained the one rich jewel of his heart. He fancied he could hear the window open then close. Was it Belle? had she discovered and secured the note? As the red gleams of the rising sun shone upon the building, his heart leaped furiously. The bib of paper was gone! But who had taken it? If not Belle, then he was lost. The plainly in- dicated ‘tryst would be kept, but death, not love, would be the drama there enacted. The intervening hours were too full of pain- ful suspense to be dwelt upon here. In vain did Leo wait and watch. Once or twice he caught a glim of Apderson Gladden, but never once of Belle. Save the settler and the ne , no other person was to be seen about the place that day. — The sun was setting. For an hour Leo Friend had been at the rendezvous, feverishly waiting and praying for the coming of his loved one. Each moment seemed an hour, each hour a lifetime. His heart grew sick and faint. He had eaten little and slept less since this dread trouble came upon him, and already his stout frame showed signs of —e down. His eyes were hollow and sunken, his cheek was thin, his face wore a hunted expression inex- pressibly sad to contemplate. A faint footfall—a rustling of leaves—a light. form appearing upon the edge of the little glade. One moment’s hesitation—then, with a choking, tremulous cry, Leo sprung forward and infolded the maiden in his arms. With the first few minutes of that meeting, we have nothing to do. Both were young _ ‘both were in love, one was in sore trouble; a i is said in those words. “‘T knew you would come!” and for the mo- ment Leo forgot all the painful doubts and mis- givingsof that long and weary day. ‘‘I knew you would come, even though they have pro- “nounced me an outlaw, and guilty of murder.” ** That is what gave me the necessary courage, for I knew that you were innocent,” came the soft, low response. ‘‘ Ah! when that terrible man arose and pronounced you guilty—when he proclaimed you an outlaw, and set a price upon your head, I longed to x sta forward and pin the base lie to his forehead! It was holding back the hot words that made me sick. My brain seemed bursting, and I knew nothing more until this morning, when I saw that bit of paper. fastened to my window. Only for that, [ believe [should have died. Not that 1 doubted your innocence, but that bold, bad woman—’ There was a little hug and a soft kiss. ‘** You did not believe what she said?” ‘‘ILdid not want to,” was the frank reply. ‘But she spoke so earnestly, and then, Sater have said nearly the same thing; that you were ne earnest in paying your attentions to er “That was before I knew you, pet. Since then, you have been my sun—Miss Foster not even the smallest star.” “Tt may be soy but how was I to know?” hesitated Belle. | eae would have known, on that evening. I had made up my mind to speak out—to dare | | | | | | A sudden hope | i ' | : my fate; but she interfered, and you know what followed, Now—I am an outlaw, with a price set upon my head. Isee no way of prov- ing my innocence, and you are the only one, erhaps, in all the world, that believes me un- ‘* Hush—do not say that. Would I be here ont unless [ trusted you wholly and implicit- a ‘* Yes, trust—but that is not—bah! I am not a villain, even if I am a fool,” and Leo flung back his head with an impatient toss, as though casting temptation behind him. The fair maiden drew closer to him. Her eyes were downcast, the little hand that nestled in his trembled like a leaf, but her voice, though low, was firm and steady. ‘“*T can understand your feelings, Leo, and I believe | know what you would have said, just now. Wait—let mefinish. You spoke of what you intended to ask me, on that night. If nothing had interfered, if Sie had spoken that question, my answer would have been—my an- swer is— Oh Leo! can’t you guess what I would say, if I could?’ With a faint sound that was neither a laugh nor a sob, the little head was hidden beneath hisarm. For one moment Leo stood as though dazed. Then with gentle force he raised the bowed head and looked fixedly into the blushin face. That one glance was enough. He rea the glad truth. He—did exactly what you would have done had you been in his place, reader. Their words were few and scarce, now, though their lips were not idle. They were in paradise. All else was forgotten but that one glorious fact; they loved and were beloved. They forgot the black cloud which hung over them ; wag a that he was outlawed, a price upon his head, the lawful prey of any and all men. They had eyes, ears, only for each other. They heard not the soft rustling of the bushes behind them. They saw not the white, rage- distorted face, the fire-flashing eyes that glared out upon them. ‘*We will go far away—whbhere the black past cannot trouble us,” softly whispered Leo, ‘* We will live for each other—for love—” ‘You forget father,” was the gentle response. “0 cannot leave him alone—you must not ask **But he hates me—he will never consent—” “Then we must wait. He is all alone, only for me. He would go madif I deserted him. No, Leo. I love you—you are dearer far to me than my own life, but a curse would come upon us were I to prove so ungrateful to him, @ are both young—we can wait.” ‘“You forget that 1 am under sentence of death—that by speedy flight alone can I hope to live. [cannot—I will not leave without you. If you refuse, then [ am a dead man!” elle did not reply; she could not. The hot, blinding tears choked her. It was hard, very hard; yet she knew that she was right. There was but one course for her. A remorseful pang smote Leo as he felt her grief. He tooremembered. He was bound as well. If he sought safety in flight, he would be dishonored, he would forfeit his solemnly pledged oath. In that moment of powerful temptation he had forgotten this, but the help- less grief of the maiden at his hard, cruel words, recalled his better self. “You are right, Belle—I ask your pardon, I was half-crazy at the thought of om, ou, and did not know what I was saying. ease do notcry. Allmay come right, yet, if we only have patience to wait.” “ You must go—promise me that rai very night,” spoke the maiden sobs. Leo gently drew her closer to his breast, and bowing his head, pressed a warm kiss upon her trembling lips. The white face of the eavesdropper grew more ghastly and filled with a deadly, vindic- tive revenge. A slender tube was cautiously thrust through the leafy screen, the black muz- zle bearing full upon the unconscious lovers. Was it an intuitive sense of danger, or was it mere accident that caused Leo to raise bis eyes at that instant? Enough that he did, that he caught sight of that white, vengeful face, of the leveled istol. With one swift sweep of his strong urm e whirled Belle behind him. At the same in- stant a blinding flash filled the little glade as the weapon exploded. <A red-hot iron seemed pressed against his cheek—he staggered and almost fell, but asa shrill, vindictive laugh met his ear, he leaped toward the spot from whence had sped the treacherous shot, thinking only of revenge. The would-be assassin was not to be caught so easily. Flight instantly followed the shot, and though Leo strained every muscle in pur- suit, he was too late. A shrill neigh, the quick trampling of hoofs accompanied by tbat taunt- ing laugh, then a fleeting glimpse of the fugi- tive. He emptied his weapons in that direction, with what effect he knew not, for at that mo- ment he heard a wailin ory come from the spot where he had left Belle Gladden. Fearing the worst, he hastened back, forget- ting that his weapons were unloaded. An an- ou will flee tween her he Trapper Detective. 7 : | | — -—+ ee Bry cry rose to his lips as he entered the glade. e saw the form of his loved one hanging upon the arm of a tall, dark figure. He leaped forward, with a mad rage steelin his muscles, but a well known voice checke him half-way. “Halt! or Pll plug ye! Throw up your han’s —you’re my pris’ner!” came the stern, sharp command, The speaker was none other than Anderson Gladden! CHAPTER XV. THE ALTERNATIVE. CROUCHING low, his muscles bent and eager for the death-grapple in defense of his heart's idol, Leo Friend recognized that stern voice, and his fierce, unreasoning rage was quelled as by magic. It was not wholly fear for himself, though the weapon of the giant settler covered his heart, and bis was an aim that rarely missed its mark. Only a lover can understand just what Leo felt as he recalled his oath not to be taken alive. To one who loves truly, the re- latives of his adored are made of better stuff than the common herd; they are, in a measure sacred in his eyes, so far tbat to lift his hand against the humblest of whom requires no little nerve, and when the father is in question! Unarmed, save with a knife, and covered with a pistol in the hand of a dead shot, Leo acted just as any man of sense would have acted ; tig 5 his hands and yielded to the in- evitable. his the more readily tbat he saw the maiden was uninjured, and looking appeal- ingly toward him. ‘Now, young man,” added Gladden, after a brief pause. ‘* They’s jest two ways. You kin walk quietly ‘long to the shanty, or Ill tote ye; which moughtn’t be quite so pleasant fer neither on us. ich is it?” “Why should I do either—” began the young man. ‘* Beca’se you can’t help yourself. You're outlawed, a good price set onto your head. The law’d hold me up ef I was to shoot ye down without a word. Then you bin meta to coax my gal—never mind that, now. You're goin’ with me, dead or alive. Take you’re choice.” Leo made no answer. He knew argument would only enrage the giant. acne was im- possible, under the circumstances. So, makin a virtue of necessity, he quietly precede oe and daughter to the vine-wreathed cabin. As Leo paused upon the threshold, Gladden signed for him to enter. Without a word the young man obeyed. Despite his strong will, he was awed by the grave, simple majesty of the rude, unlettered forester. He felt forced to obey, even while he wished ‘to rebel. Belle would have followed him, but Gladden restrained her. He sat down upon the door- step slowly filling and lighting bis pipe. Not until the biue vapor curled around his massive head, did he seem to find the words he was seek- ing for. - “Young man, you hed a fa’r trial an’ you was brung in guilty o’ murder. Asa law abid- in’ citizen, ’m bound to give you up to justice. Ef I do, you’ll be hung—” ‘* Mather, you will not—you cannot do this!” sobbed Belle, sinking at his knees, ber tearful eyes uplifted to kis hardset face, ‘ They would murder him—and that would kill me, too! I could not live—” “‘] knowedy ou’d be wuss o’ the night air,” quickly interposed Gladden, a strange tremor in his voice. “It runs in the blood, young feller. Her mother was the same way. She’d say things she never meant, when she was the least bit out o’ health. She’d sw’ar she loved them most which in her sober mind she wouldn’t wipe her feet on.” . As though fearing to listen further, Gladden summoned the old negress, who, by his orders conducted Belle, sobbing and pleading, to her own.room. Gladden heaved a huge sigh of relief as she disappeared, then arose and confronted his prisoner, ‘Take out your weapons an’ lay ’em on that cheer. You won’t need ’em while we’re talkin’, an’ mebbo never at all; but that depends pritty much on how you take what l’ve got to i Still under that strange influence so difficult to describe in words, Feo obeyed, without a word. Gladden nodded grave approval, then handed pipe and tobacco to the young man. Still in - silence, Leo accepted the cles, filled and lighted the pipe ated opposite each other in the dimly lighted room, the two men smoked on their eyes averted, as though fearing to read each others thoughts. ‘Tt depends on you whether you take up them weapons an’ walk out o’ this, a free man, fer all 0’ me, or whether 1 tie you hand an’ foot an’ give you over to the yo pat gl “You must speak plainer, before I give an answer,” quietly responded Leo, though, the the moment he spoke the drift of the settler fiashed across hi: mind. ‘« They’s some things is mighty hard to talk about, an’ this is one on ’em. ou know how you're fixed. A jedge an ‘jury bas brung you in guilty o’ murder. Mebbe you didn’t do it, MICVOOKS: (E(0) . |