Beadle's Dime Library No. 170 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

— ci A SE a's Sweet William, the Trapper Detective. 22 collected and waiting for him to lead them, in | floated through the leafy aisles, ‘Fool that I the absence of Simple Simon. was not to have thought of her before! She will | you appealed to me as one of the League, and “You'll scatter an’ go, one by one, to the hol- | do it, and this very night—why not? By this | death is the forfeit of refusal. Even now, were ler back of Denbree’s pastur’ lot. Git tharsoon | time to-morrow the worst will be over—a | you to repeat that sign, I would be obliged to a’ter dark.” princely fortune won, or one more life lost | Set you free, and for that reason I have bound At the hour indicated_the whole party were | through obstinacy—” / you, hand and foot. I shall keep you thus, at the rendezvous, save Simple Simon and Ham | = The'sentence was left unfinished. A curious | until you are safely delivered into the hands of , Belcher. and, for the moment, unrecognizable sound | the Vigilantes, and though I[ intend to be where themselves upon his face. ‘‘ That was because QF A ao ee ae pew me ~ ew = ee ee ne ey ee —<—— oe a —— —_—— = — = Ss a eae a 4 ~~. . . ~ 7 ~ —_ - a — - ng ey _— _oes eons do —— i me | +. ye as’ + - = sf Fa -.,." = — es ed “ _— , ~ =< _ . —- “ avai aie Pd Cte ~ BB A. 4, CREF ee at RIO OE LE eR EE EAE PSOE BT CE Ss sof rs 4 ry Sy ae) , . “ 7. he s * sass aad 8 * + . - af : hissin + 7 ly prohibited, and the time passed drearily enough to the watchers. When, two hours later, Belcher made his appearance, he was greeted as warmly as though he had been absent for a year. His report cast a chill over the enthusiasm. There was to be no fighting, no captives taken; one a simple scare. ere is no particular necessity for going minutely into details, since the general result has already been given. ‘“‘ Simple Simon brought farm-house, and it was this that gave the cue to Sweet William and his men. The old trap- Si gave a whistle, roke cover, yelling loudly and discharging their pistols at every leap, but firing at random, not to kill or wound, and the rout was complete. The household was alarmed, but they never knew who had befriended them. At a word from Sweet William, his men fell back toward the timber. Just before they reached this, a low, peculiar call came from the shade, and a minute later, Simple Simon was among them, laughing heartily over the com- plete success of bis plans. ‘* Back tothe hollow. I have a few words to say, and then I must join the rest of my fleeing friends, or they may suspect something.” He led the way until at a safe distance from the lot, where farmer Denbree and his assistants were collecting the terrified stock, apparently expecting another attempt would be made to steal them. ‘lam pretty sure I know who this Captain Moonlight really is,” he began, speaking rapid- ly; ‘‘ but as yet 1 lack proof positive enough to convict him. Since we are all friends, 1 may say that the one I suspect is Gerald Evans. epee £ yet noiselessly his hand sought his | take you to the gallows. Good by!” 7 ‘This, my first plan, failed, but Ihave formed | belt, and then the black muzzle of a pistol bore He turned away, and with swift, eager foot- A slight | steps he hastened through the forest nor paused another which I am confident will succeed. To morrow, | mean to demand an interview with Captain Moonlight, to deliver to him an im- portant message sent by the chief of the League. I will arrange it so as to have the meeting at Hark Foster’s house. You will be concealed near the place—a regiment could find cover there—and you will close in, capture all you One of your number can easily crawl up and secure it from there, without danger of being ob- served by any one around the house. ‘*Remember, to-morrow, before noon if pos- sible. Beat your stations in good time. Cap- tain Moonlight will be there, and must be taken, alive if possible; if not, thendead. If I am not mas pa and’ shot before you can come up, I will make sure of—” The sentence was never finished. An angry ing curse was blended with the bright flash groan! Only for one simple fact the assassin would have time to escape ere a hand could be raised to arrest him. Sweet William heard a faint rustle in the bushes, and his suspicions ever upon the alert, he drop and crawled like a human shadow toward the ape. Not in time to arrest the treacherous shot, though. . The assassin turned to flee as he saw his vic- tim fall, but a dark figure shot through the A match was struck and held close to the ng with Hark Foster on the edge clearings Gerald Evans wound his be thick-growing timber gupon which they chance AFTER of ~p ec cat ome * way slow ‘ou his eyes + Fae moe to pause, his legs c ing him own volition, his Sate wholly busy in perfect- ing the details of a . foul and treacherous, : babe sp es ae fe reap Lom reward OE ong scheming and plotting. His eyes gra ] dilated and filled Sith on exulbastt fire, his countenance was all aglow, his white teeth leamed from beneath the curling red lip; until e seemed the very personification of devilish triumph. “The very thing!” he muttered, baring his heated brow to the cooling breeze that softly Smoking and talking were both strict- | d upon all fours nward of their | | | then he and his men | | | ee came to the plotter’s ear, and guided more by instinct than reason, he leaped swiftly aside and crouched down behind a stunted, scrubby bush, : pistol in his hand, a hard-set look upon his ace. It isin just such moments that the mask drops and a man is revealed to friend or foe for what he really is. Now the silken glove no longer covered the hand of steel. From a soft, effemi- nate, doll-like creature, Gerald Evans became a man, albejt there was a strong suggestion of the strong, white teeth. ’ For a moment thus, then he arose with a mut- tered curse. The sound was no longer a mys- tery. ’Some drunken brute, sleeping off the effects of his debauch,” he muttered, glancing toward a —- of bushes from which the sounds pro- ceeded. He took several steps as though about to pass on, then paused, his curiosity faintly aroused. Who was the sleeper? Was it worth while to retrace his steps? A longer, deeper breath came from the thicket—a prolonged snore. Gerald Evans glided back, and cautiously parting the leafy branches, peered down upon the sleeper, Upon such trifles a man’s life sometimes hinges, Had Gerald Evans not heard that sound, or, after hearing it, had he obeyed his first im- pulse and hastened on to the town, how differ- ent might have been the ending of this story. But the finger of fate was in it all. More than ever like a crouching panther just about to leap upon its unconscious prey, seemed Gerald Evans as he looked down upon the face of his unconscious enemy—the face of the man whom he hated above all others: Leo Friend. full upon the sleeping man’s temple. nger which rested upon the trigger; nothing more would be needed. His enemy would die, without knowing what or who it was that eut short the thread of his life. No one else would know, even if the body was found that same day. If not found soon—even then he heard the grunting of some half-wild pressure of the Evans entered the little dark inclosed space. His hatred was too intense, his nature too ma- lignant for him to be satisfied with the sudden and painless death of his enemy. He should die the death of a criminal, and know to whom he owed his shameful fate. Once decided, Evans did not lose any more time. Removing his coat and holding it outspread in both hands, he cautiously placed himself astride the sleeping form. The coat was flung over Leo’s face, and at the same instant Gerald in the flesh as they closed upon Leo’s throat. A silent but desperate struggle ensued. Upon anything like equal footing Gerald would have been but little better than a child in the sp of the refugee, but now, cunning was mightier than thew and sinew. Fainter and more weak rew the struggles of the outlawed man. Those ngers of steel were doing their work quickly, and never relaxed their deadly grip until Leo lay motionless, his muscles lax and nerveless, his senses fled and death fast following. and longed for was before him. His enemy, his as that of a midnight robber and cowardly as- sassin. With such thoughts surging ——— his mind, Gerald Evans set about making his triumph as- sured. Removing the belt from around the waist of his captive, he split it in two, length- wise, and tightly bound the hands and feet with them. A handful of moss was placed in the center of Leo’s own handkerchief. The cloth was then twisted around to hold the stuff in place, and the gag thus formed, thrust between the jaws of the recovering man, and all made secure by the two ends being tied ina hard knot behind his neck. ‘“*T suffered you to escape once, Leo Friend,” he said, mockingly, as the angry eyes fixed I can see your death-struggles when they string you up, I will be where you cannot appeal to me as one of the family. By this time to-mor- row, you will be beyond making any more trouble on earth; let that be your consolation. ‘“‘ There is one more thing: I wish to tell you, as it is unlikely we will have another interview on this side of the grave. And, sinceI am quite sure you will never be able to take advantage of my candor, I will be very frank with you. ‘We both paid our addresses to Miss Belle Gladden, and she had the ill taste to'prefer you : his ‘‘ powers” into full play. He was the dog velvet-footed panther in his cat-like movements, . - and the man in the stable; his was the loud, in the greenish light that filled his eyes, and in | before me. She loved you; she hated if not | angry cry that apparently proceeded from the | the half-smile, half-sneer, that left bare his | loathed me. You see I am keeping my word. ‘Last night I proposed and was finally re- jected. There was a scene, and it ended with my getting kicked out of the house. Only for you, nothing of this kind would have happened, but I hold no grudge. It is always well to for- give the dying. ‘*To soothe ae? last hours, accept this delicious morsel. This very evening, Belle Gladden will keep an appointment which I am about to make. I mean to take her to a safe spot, where I can coax her to retract her cruel decision, and promise to become my bride. I have certain arguments in store which I am quite sure she will be unable to resist. You can guess what the principal ones are, so I need not particularize. While you are being hanged, and suffering the tortures of the damned, in mind and in y, remember that she you love is in my arms!” Wrought to madness, Leo Friend strove to burst his bonds, but in vain. They were applied by a sure and cunning hand, Gerald Evans laughed mockingly. ** You will have an hour in which to try your strength and patience against them. At the end of that time, I will return with a carriage to until he reached the little, dilapidated cabin be- longing to one Jobn Johnson, a low, degraded, miseply wretch who was half-hermit, whole- rogue. It willbe remembered that it was in his cart that Leo Friend was borne from the log jail‘by Mattie and Hark Foster. Gerald entered the hut without ceremony, at my signal can and kill the rest. Mind, not a soul must hogs—a few dismembered and scattered bones | Johnson was bending over a small fire, despite ¥ an, woman nor child. would be all, and who could read their mute | the natural heat of the day, smoking a foul _“ To guard against any mistake, I will, assoon | story? The temptation was strong, and for the | pipe and worse tobacco. His only salutation was | as all is decided, make a note of the hour and | moment, Leo Friend’s life hung upon a gossa- | a snapping snarl as Gerald entered. P the kind of signal I will Bive, on a bit of paper, | mer thread. ‘“‘Pve got a job for you, old man,” said Evans, yt and drop it at the foot of the old oak tree tha But then the fiendish smile deepened, the pis- amy ‘There’s money to be made, if you . stands in a line with the spring and the house, | tol was withdrawn, and stepping lightly, Gerald | know how to hold your tongue. Ha! I thought that would arouse you!” ** Money is good—I’'ll do anything for money!” and the withered old wretch rub his dirty hands together, the unholy fire of avarice glow- ing in bis snake-like eyes. ‘*Can you keep a secret for a hundred dollars?” . ‘*Pve kept many a black and deadly one for much less than that,” chuckled the miser. ‘*Tell me how I can earn a hundred dollars. Anything short of murder—that comes higher.” **You remember and loud rt of a pistol from the line of | sat down upon the young man’s stomach, his Friend—the young bushes hard by, and whirling half around, Sim- | knees holding the arms of his enemy pinned | fellow who escaped the Vigilance Committee, _ ple Simon fell flat upon his face, without a | tight to the ground, his fingers almost meeting | and for whose capture, dead or alive, they offer a hundred dollars reward? Well, fk have him in a safe spot—bound hand and foot. By turning him over to justice, I can secure the reward, but I don’t want to do that, myself. You may have heard that he and I have been courting the same young lady. If I gave-him up, folks would say it was because I was jealous. Rather than that, I would set him free, or give the re- ward to you. If you promise to never breathe a word of the bargain, I will turn him over to you, on conditions.” i bushes, and aoe ly upon his shoulders, Little by little Gerald relaxed his grasp, until “What are they?’ demanded J ohnson, suspi- rushed him helplessly to the ground. An iron | fully assured that his victim was not counter- | ciously. (0 eae grip closed upon his neck, and g his prize | feiting insensibility. Then he removed the coat ‘By no means hard. You are to bring him ’ much as one sa puppy by the nape of the | and arose to his feet, a low, musical laugh part- | here and keep bim close confined until noon, neck, Sweet William returned with his prisoner. | ing his red lips. The revenge he lad waited | to-morrow. Or give him up in the forenoon; ter all. that will answer as well, You can ’ man’s face—the face of old Hark Foster! successful rival lay helpless at his feet. The | say that ee him asleep in the woods, and Bs hangman’s rope was awaiting him. A few | so took prisoner. He won't live long CHAPTER XXVIL. hours more and he would die the death of a engugh to contradict you.” IN THE TOILS dog, and his memory forever after be accursed ‘“What else? You wouldn't ke up so much money, only for that,” added Johnson, with a cunning leer. ‘Don’t judge me by yourself, old man. I do not make money my god, as you do. I have told you all there is for you to do. If you re- - can find others— ) no! I will do it—I will earn the money © —I will do just as you bid me,” eagerl assented the niiner. ; ae 7 ‘* Very well. Go and hitch your horse to the cart, and I will show you where your game lies. Make haste!” If Johnson bad any further doubts, he did not give them utterance, but leaving the hut he uttered a long, peculiar call, which soon brought a shaggy little pony to his side. Throwing upon JOO EC NMIUCE sj