Beadle's Dime Library No. 170 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

ee Ses PRE, OE Ort ae Se ee A P -_ = i ‘>? ) * 2 he - - a mn ee ee Ce pe te ny ee Re ~ Ps > & . ~. - aA" . - . _ Pa - a . = > gS ee et ee eee ee erie - ot A Le ey — te Se 6 eres > e . % + — ~ — — in : vd —* you in the least. Such ma darst. I’m bullit-preof. > es iu * i. “ ~ ee ‘Sweet William, the Trapper —— aA + =a Detective. ack es i ee ee te eee ls SK : , Chafing at the thought of the important in- formation he might be losing, Simple Simon slowly passed around in front of the cabin, searching in vain for some loop-hole. . But when he gained the rear of the cabin, he made a glad discovery. A stunted tree grew close to the wall; so close that by its means the roof might be gained with little difficuity. Of course there wes a chimney, to carry off the smoke of the rousing fire; would it not also serve to con- vey the sounds of the words spoken below? o sooner conceived than carried out. Sim- ple Simon nimbly shinned up the tree and cau- tiously stepped upon the sloping roof. Inch by inch he worked his way up to the chimney, the bark roof threatening to give way beneath him at every step. Squatting down, his face as close to the top of the chimney as the smoke would allow, Simple sb drank in the words which stand recorded ere. ‘** Because he had other work on hand—to quiet down Joe Smith, I believe. He begins to suspect that we are playing double—more for our pockets than for his.” | ** We kin do without him,” and Simple Simon recognized the voice of Hark Foster. ‘“ He’s too fond o’ bossin’ an’ lettin’ us do the dirty work. Who is it that’s elected fer this raid?” ‘*T have their names here, on this list. The Prophet furnished it. Weare to go in the old dress, so that, if there is any trouble, and we are seen, it won't be suspected that it is a party affair.” Ad. this they say is comin’ up to inspect us! ‘*Don’t know his name. Somebody the old man has started out to see that we are all ready for hot work wheu the—” A huge puff of smoke flew up the chimney and darted fullinto the eager listener’s face, cre and almost suffocating him, and the remainder of the speech was lost. Worse than that, the eavesdropper felt thaf he must snee~e ! He grasped his nose with one hand and closed his lips with the other. He felt as though he was swelling up likea balloon—he fancied he could hear his skin crack as it expanded! There was a curious commotion inside—an internal convulsion that filled his eyes with tears—but the danger was past. The sneeze was strangled in its birth. To avoid the smoke, Simple Simon crept over the ridge-pole and passed to windward of the chimney. But he fled from Scylla only to fall into the jaws of Charybdis. The rotten bark ve way beneath his feet—he slipped through it—down—down! bringing upina sitting pos- ture in the very midst of the astonished con- spirators! CHAPTER XVII. UNEXPECTED AID. ** Don’r want to ot ye outa mite, gen’lemen. Tm only Sweet William, jest dropped in to see the fun, sorter permisc’ous-like. Td a heap ruther you wouldn’t make comp’ny out o’ me.” The giant beamed benevolently around upon the astounded faces, nodding good-humoredly to each one in succession. It was a peculiar situa- tion, and one that would have made the fortune of any painter that could catch and fix upon canvas the conflicting emotions so plainly im- printed upon each face. But Gerald Evans was too eager for his prey to belong ata loss. The weight of numbers was still upon his side, and even if this insolent, meddlesome trapper did attempt to obstruct the course of justice, the “eee could only end in one way. And it might be best—the hour was drawing near when a single champion like this fellow might turn the tide that would dash to eces the fabric he and his bad risked so much raise. Now—one little morsel of cold lead— if Anderson Gladden was not so uncomfortably strict in his ideas of honor! The big blue eye of the giant trapper settled upon the face of Gerald Evans, and a cold smile curled his lip as though he read the swift work- ings of that subtle brain and held it in contempt. At least, thus Evans interpreted that smile, and the evil light deepened in his eyes. . “Tt seems to me, my good fellow, that you are interfering in matters that do not concern be the fashion where you were raised, but civilized beings are apt to grow impatient, when the thing is carried ar. ‘Which I suppose is a perlite hint fer me to git up an’ git, ain’t it?” grinned Sweet William. Evans bowed, haughtily. — ‘*T knowed it. 1 sawn the same thing in your eyes when I fust come in. An’ more’n that, I saw you was eetchin’ all over to send a hunk o’ lead to see what grub I ett fer supper. I kin see same thing in your eye now. But ye won’t doit. Why? Beca’se you cain’t, even if you When a fellar shoots at me, the bullit jest bounces back an’ putts out his eye. That looks queer, but it’s a scan’alous fact. Whar I come from, you’d think they raised one-eyed men from the seed, they was so plenty —the woods was full of ’em!” Sweet William beamed cheerfully around ‘upon the dark-faced men, seemingly uncon- scious that he was playing with fire. So inno- cent did he appear that when Anderson Glad-- den spoke, it was far more gently than he intended. ‘Stranger, I reckon you mean well, but we ain’t in the humor fer foolin’, jest now. You was on the jury with me when that young man was tried. We didn’t bring him in guilty, be- cause he run away; but be was found guilty, an’ a price set on his head—” ‘‘T know it; an’ that’s the why I’m settin’ ere now. That hundred dollars b’longs to me, individgaly, myself,” was the cool response. ‘“‘That’s the why Il came in on ye like a spook makin’ a frien’ly call on his ‘lations. I heard you talkin’ ‘bout massacreein’ him, which’d make more work fer me. I ain’t lazy, but he kin walk to jestice easier on his own legs than on mine.” ‘‘Then you mean to lay claim—” ‘*T mean that yender two-legged critter is my huckleberry. I mean that I sot out to look fer him, an’ I found him, an’ tuck bim pris’ner the night o’ the same day the price was sot onto his head. I mean that he’s my meat, an’ anybody what ’spects to take him, hes got tocrawl up my back fust—amen!” ‘*Tt is a lie—a plot to cheat justice!” cried Evans, his black eyes filled with a devilish fury. Sweet William did not beam benevolently now. His huge frame seemed to swell and di- late, his blue eyes glittered like a polished steel mirror, his voice trembled with Smothered an- ger as he spoke: ‘* They’s a lady here, or I’d jest shut my hand onto ye an’ sqush ye like I would a buzzin’, pes- terin’ fly. No man ever give me the lie twicet, nur kin a little runt like you. Say it ag’in, an lady or no lady, ’m down on ye.” ‘One thing at a time,” said Evans, with a strange, sickly smile but which was not born of fear. ‘*Il came to arrest that outlaw, and arrest him I will, though a score of your stripe stood between. After that, I'll prove my words how, when and where you please.” ‘*T'll do even better’n that,” and as he spoke, the strange smile deepened upon the face of Sweet William. ‘‘Tll prove you a liar right here an’ now. You swear that you'll arrest that young feller; I swear you won’t do nuthin’ o’ the kind. Instead, you'll tell him to skin out o’ this jest as soon as he wants. An’ ef any o’ your fri’nds tries to stop him, you'll fight fer him ag’inst them.” An angry curse broke from the lips of Evans. ‘““We are fools to listen to this madman’s prate. If he hes not sense enough to clear the way, down with him!” As he spoke, Gerald Evans raised his revolver, but before he could cover his man, Sweet Wil- liam flung up his hand. It was empty; there was no weapon in it. But if there had been—if a bullet bad crashed through his brain, Evans could not have paused more quickly. His face turned ghastly white, and he trembled in every limb. ‘** 'Who—whoare you?” he gasped, in astrained, husky voice, bis eyes wildly ate em ‘* Your master!” came the deep-toned answer, and, like an avenging god, the giant stood erect, towering head and shoulders above the trembling wretch. ‘‘ You have raised your hand against my life, and you know the penalty. True, you knew me not; that fact will save you, if you prove true to your oath now.” “To you—but not to Aim!” and the evil glance shot at Leo, told that though crushed, the snake was not killed, “To him, as to me; look and be convinced,” At the words, Leo Friend raised his hand and made a swift sign. Evans stared as though un- willing to believe his eyesight. With a smile, Leo repeated the sign, adding to it another. Its effect was no less sfrange than when used by Sweet William, for, still holding his revolver cocked, Evans stepped to the side of the giant bale and confronted his late allies. ‘Three ag’in’ three—not countin’ in the lady !” chuckled Sweet William, once more the uncouth pear ook ‘* Jest touch ’em up, boss,” to Evans. : . Gladden,” said Evans, speaking in a cold, forced manner, ‘‘I am sorry to say that we have been in the wrong here. This man cannot be arrested. He must be let go free, when and where he wills. You alone are not in the secret. The rest of us, one and all, are bound by the most solemn oaths to protect Mr. Friend even to the death. I earnestly beg that you will not attempt to interfere.” Gladden was too much bewildered to make any answer, and before he could collect his scat- tered senses, Sidney Rigdon exclaimed: ‘* There’s no time to lose! The Vigilantes may be here at any moment!” ‘* You did this?’ and Sweet William glowered upon Evans. | ‘*T did; but I didn’t know then—” “You know now. What word did you send?” “That I was going to arrest Leo Friend at this place; for them to make all haste—” ‘‘They’re coming now!” cried on, from the door. ‘‘I can hear their horses’ hoofs com- ing down the road!” ** We'll hev to borry your hoss critters, then. Tell em we broke loose—you kin shoot an’ yell all hie like, but mind whar you’re sending your lead. Come, Leo.” ‘od There was indeed no time to be lost. The Vigilantes were rapidly approaching, and once in their hands, Leo’s fate was assuredly sealed. Pressing one warm kiss upon the cold lips of his heart’s love, the young man darted out of the house after his huge friend. A moment later and they were racing swiftly down the moonlighted road. _ Right well the others played their part. Yell- ing and shouting, they emptied their pistols, as though the escape had been against their will. All but one shot spent their force upon the harmless ground or trees; when that shot was fired a man’s white face glared swiftly around as though in dread of some unseen power’s avenging the treacherous deed. A sharp cry escaped from Leo’s lips, and when Sweet William glanced quickly around, he saw the red blood flow over the hand that was pressed to the young man’s side. A fierce oath was coupled with the name of Gerald Evans, and his strong arm was extended to support his companion, “It’s only a scratch,” said Leo, with a faint smile. ‘If it don’t bleed too much—” “Squeeze it tight; Ill tend to the critter; we can’t stop now,” muttered the giant, as the fierce yells of the Vigilantes proclaimed their discovery. Leo obeyed, though he felt faint and sick. As well die in the saddle as to yield now. -Any- thing but the shameful rope. At full speed the chase swept on. The fugi- tives were well mounted, but the Vigilantes were no less so. Their borses were the pick of the country, and their pride urged them on, This outlawed assassin should not escape them twice. Kach moment increased the anxiety of Sweet William. For himself he cared little. He could have taken to the woods and laughed the most persistent pursuit to scorn, But incumbered with a wounded—perhaps dying—man, whom he was resolved not to desert—that was more serious. He urged the borses to their utmust speed, until they seemed to fairly fly. He glanced back. He was gaining, but oh! so slowly. He saw that Leo was growing weaker and unsteady in the saddle. Could he bear up long enough? Impossible! . Satisfied that speed alone could not save them, Sweet William left the main road and plunged into a narrow, winding bridle-path, along which he pressed at breakneck speed for over a mile, before he drew rein, Leaping to the ground, he caught Leo in one arm, then struck the horses furiously with the flat of his hand. As they dashed madly on, he plunged into the timber, making bis way at a rapid trot, up the hollow. or fullan hour he pressed on without flag- ging, for, by the yells of the Vigilantes, almost immediately after his leaving the horses, he knew that his ruse was suspected. But even his iron frame required rest, and be halted in a deep, vine-covered ravine, both for breath and to make sure that Leo was still alive. He was, though breathing but faintly. Sweet William dared not strike a light, but guided by his ear, he groped bis way to to a small spring that bub- bled over the mossy rocks above. Filling bis flask, he cautiously by a back, feeling with bis hands for the senseless body of the young man. He touched a face—it was as cold as marble— the face of a dead man! He started back, with a shudder—only to trip and fall at full length over a second body! What den of horrors had he stumbled into?” CHAPTER XVIII. A BITTER POTION. WirH yells of angry excitement the Vigi- lantes sped past the little log cabin and thun- dered down the road in hot pursuit of the fleeing refugees. They were watched with strangely varying sensations by the little group beside the stile-blocks, but there was a feeling of general relief as the last lagging horseman disappeared around the bend in the road, Anderson Gladden was the first to break the almost painfully oppressive silence that had fal- len over them since the confused clattering of hoofs died away in the distance. ‘* Belle, child, go to your room; not to bed, beca’se I want to say a few words to you, afore long. You gentlemen, come ‘long o' me. By the tree yender, we kin have a quiet smoke while we’re talkin’.” Not the words, but something peculiar in the giant’s. tone, caused the three worthies to inter- change covert glances, almost of uneasiness. re rude settler spoke more like a master than a slave, ‘* Tt’ll save trouble,” he added, as the trio hesi- tated. ‘‘Com nless you’d prefar me to ax you the questions afore the crowd at the next meetin’.” ‘‘Tead on,” said Gerald Evans, his \voice sharp and disagreeable. ‘* As well now as any time; only remember. Yow pressed the matter to a crisis—not I.” ‘*Tt’s time one of us did, nur it don’t matter much which, I reckon,” was the dry response. ** ve bin workin’ in the dark long a-plenty, an’ (CONNMICELOONe) al if PF a. tS a ily 9