Beadle's Dime Library No. 170 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

me mee = = ee meee - gan quartering the ground in every direction, searching every bush and brae sgt no spot where a human being could ly have sought cover, without examination, ever and anon cautiously repea his signal. In this he until it was impossible to ionger doubt. The young man was gone, whether voluntarily or taken captive by some among his many enemies. Reluctant and slow as he had been to admit this probability, the moment his doubts were dissipated, Sweet William went to work sys. tematically. It was no difficult matter to find material for making a serviceable torch among the timber, and five minutes later, the old man was brag | over the spot where Leo Friend had been taken prisoner, reading the mute but oe, story told by the torn and trampled earth. His own more recent tracks confused him *but little. Enough was left uncovered for bis pur- pose. Hesaw that a single man had effected the capture, and hence he felt sure that Leo had been surprised while sound asleep. He saw where Gerald Evans had left tbe spot, and the next moment came upon his returning tracks, followed by the hoof-marks and wheel- ruts of Johnson’s cart. He searched the ground more carefully, and now saw that hisown feet had obliterated the traces left by Johnson as he helped Evans lift Friend into the cart. “That looks more like it,” he muttered, nod- ding his head. ‘‘ Ef the boy’d ’a’ let one man take an’ kerry him off, I’d ’a’ bin tempted to let him hoe his own row. As itis, ’m gwine to git him out o’ this hobble, or bu’st somethin’ wide open—fer a fact!” Aided by the flickering torch, the old trapper started along the trail of the wagon wheels, making rapid progress at first. But after a short cut through the timber, the trail came out upon the road, and here the actual work of the trailer began. His first object was to ascertain in which direction the cart had gone; no easy task, since at least two wagons had passed over the road after the cart entered upon it. Kneeling down at the edge of the road, Sweet William closely scruti and carefully measured the hoof-prints left by Johnson’s pony. Then, aided by a fresh torch, he inspected the road, inch by inch. A dozen yards below the point where the cart entered the. road, he found what he was searching for, and rose erect with a long breath of relief. ““*Tain’t so bad asI thought,” he muttered, bt io 3 the perspiration from his heated brow. **] made sure the toes ’d be p’inted the other way. ‘They hain’t took him to town—then who in thunder an’ guns kin they be?” Without attempting to answer his own tion, Sweet William set out along the woodland road, not nti are die A to follow by the hoof- marks, but contenting himself with making sure that he did not pass the point where the cart had left the main road. Half an hour later he found where the cart turned aside into the timber, and feeling that the trail was growing hot, he pressed on with renewed energy. For half a mile, all went well, but then the trail entered upon a tract of rocky, barr ground, where it was soon lost. Sweet William strove in vain to regain it, and was finally forced to acknowledge that the attempt was worse than useless, by the faint, uncertain rays of the flickering torch. The twinkling stars told him that the dawn of day was at hand, and feeling that until it came to aid him, his work would be labor spent in vain, the old man lay down at the base of a huge bowlder and almost instantly fell es- eep. : Sweet William was one of those few persons to whom sleep isd servant, rather than a master, and at the gleam of the rising sun he awoke and started to his feet. Lighting his pipe and drawing bis belt a hole tighter by way of breakfast, he began quartering the groun like a hound seeking to regain a lost scent. Ten minutes later he was successful, and from that time on he was never once baffled, though his progress was slow until after the rocky tract was passed over. A partof the truth forcibly struck him, as the trail took a sharp turn and struck off through the timber once more. ‘*It’s old Johnson’s cart, but who was the other fellow? Cain’t be Gerald’ Evans. He wouldn’t dar’ go ag’inst them signs, onless he could strike asure blow, like a snake in the dark, an’ nobody nigh to telltales. Must be one 0’ them Vigilantys run acrost him an’ tuck ee to hev that sentence duly kerried out. Though feeling sure that the trail would end at Johnson’s cabin, Sweet William stuck faith- fully to the trail. He felt sure that Leo’s cap- tors did not intend to take him to the village, since their present course was leading the almost. directly away from it. “Why, he could not even surmise. The whole mystery to him. ' A few minutes more carried him within “ of the rude cabin. Before the door stood the rickety cart. Just beyond grazed the ragged air was a Sweet William, the Trapper De ae pony. No human being was in sight, and the place seemed quite deserted. Taking advantage of the tall grass and weeds, Sweet William crawled up to the rear of the shanty. Not asound came from within as he listened, and cautiousl¥ removing a portion of the clay chinking from between the unhewn logs, he applied his eye .o the aperture thus formed. All was gloomy and indistinct within, and for a few moments he could make out nothing. Then there sounded a dull, muffled stamping, and guided by it, his gaze fell upon a bound form lying in one corner. It was that of Leo Friend, bound hand and foot, and securely gagged. Lying with his face toward the point where Sweet William had ap- roached, he had seen the chinking removed, to replaced by a glittering human eye. Find- ing that his situation could be po worse, he raised his bound feet and ‘let them fall again upon the ea floor, with the dull thump that had sharpened the old trapper’s eyesight. As the action and sound were repeated, Sweet William knew that the prisoner must be alone within the cabin, and hastening around to the door, he tried the rude latch, only to find it fastened. Stepping back a pace or two, he plunged forward, his shoulder striking with re- sistless force against the shackling door, tearing it from its hinges and burling the wreck half- way across the room. Sweet William followed it, headlong, but beedless of his bruises, he scrambled my Fa greeted his young friend with a chuckling laugh. “I never did see the feller as was harder to keep track of then you! You’re wuss then a hen with one chicken. I won’t never feel easy ’bout you ontil we’ve got ye married off to a wife as ‘ll keep close watch over ye both night an’ day—nur that won’t do, onless she’s pow- erful good at puttin’ the grapevine lock onto @—’ While speaking, Sweet William was not idle. His first move was to cut the string that. held the choking gagin place. Then he freed Leo’s hands and legs. It was while busied with these that the young man, after several ineffectual efforts to speak, managed to gasp: ** Vigilantes—he’s gone for them!” ‘You mean old Johnson? [ thought so,” he added, as Leo nodded. ‘‘ Waal, when they come, wary “as welcome to all they kin find. Hark!— H—Il and blazes!” From without, ringing sharply upon therocky soil, came the heavy trampling of iron-clad hoofs, and clearing the space between him and the door at a single bopnd, Sweet William be- held a sight that wrung from his lips the grat- ing curse recorded above. A dozen horsemen were riding fapidly up the narrow valley, led by the tall figure of the miser, Johnson, who, though upon foot, kept in advance of the riders. It needed not a second ag to decide who and what the men were. he loose black robes—the cowled head and covered face—they wére the dreaded Vigilantes. Sweet William turned and lifted his young friend to his feet, but Leo was unable to stand. Hislimbs were benumbed, and escape by flight was an impossibility. ** Save yourself—you can among the rocks,” muttere back upon the floor. _ Sweet William returned to the doorway, but it was not with the desperate hope of flight. He even smiled as Johnson uttered a cry of angry dismay as he saw the open door, and coolly nodded to the leading horseman as he rode up. ‘“‘Sarvent, boss, an’ mighty glad to see ye,” e said, as the chief dismounted. ‘‘ Keep back, you /” thrusting Johnson forcibly aside as he avembted to enter the cabin. ‘‘ Your man is inside, but afore you take him, I ax one private word with you. It’ll be best fer all consarned ef you do, “Stand aside,” the chief said, sternly, press- ing forward. lhe old man obeyed without a word. The chief entered, followed by three of his men. At his command they bound Leo’s hands behind him, and half-led, half-carried him forth. ** Now, sir,” addressing Sweet William, * what have you to say? You, too, are under sus- picion, and unless you can clear p ourself you must accompany us as a prisoner. ‘What Pve got to say is fer you alone. Step over yender a bit. Ef you’re afeard let your fellers keep me kivered—” Paying no attention to this sneer, the chief led the way to a spot beyond ear-shot of the rest, saying: ‘*Speak out, and to the point.” ** Jest sling your eye over them dockyments,” and Sweet William produced a thin package from his bosom. - ‘* You are a government detective, then?” “Sent yere to root out this gang o’ p’izen hoss-thieves an’ man-killers, o’ which the Crimson Clan is a part—yes, sir! You see I’m authorized to call out whatever men I choose to help me—an army, ef I like. That’s enone ‘bout me. That young feller is ’cused o’ bein’ @ap'n Moonlight, an’ of killin’ Don Larkin. He ain’t the one, nur he didn’t do » ive them the slip Friend, sinking tective. ‘toward them at full ee ee _ —_— — ——- a - ——— - - —— —— — -—-—— - - —— ee ee) the other, as Ican prove. Afore night comes I’ll show you the ginewine Cap’n Moonlight, an’ Til prove that Don Larkin was killed on the night afore they swore he was killed when he was robbin’ an’ murderin’ two drovers.” ‘You can prove all this, you say?” demanded the chief. ’ ‘*] kin—an’ more. But mind: you aim’t to breathe a breath o’ what I’ve told ye. You want to take Leo Friend an’ bold him onder guard. Don’t even let your men know that he ain’t to be hung. You kin pick the best o’ your men an’ come with me. Ef I’m lyin’—” A long, hoarse cry came to their ears, and the figure of a man was seen running up the valley d. There could be no mistaking that giant form. It was that of An- derson Gladden. An agonized cry burst from the lips of Leo Friend, and he strove desperately to free him- self. He alone divined the cause of the giant settler’s agitation. **Help! I ax vengeance! they’ve kerried off my Belle—my daughter!” gasped Gladden, fall- ing to the ground c..u pletely exhausted. CHAPTER XXXII. TO THE RESCUE. ‘* BEING a woman, Miss Foster, you are privi- leged, but let one of come men repeat your charge of treachery and I'll cram the foul lie down his throat with a pistol muzzle!” Despite her fiery rage and undoubted courage Mattie Foster sunk back with a superstitious thrill as these words came out of the darkness in answer to her passionate denunciation of the man whom she knew as Thomas Hunter. But she quickly rallied, as Simple Simon rode out of et gloom and stood before her in the dim ight. “I still believe you are a traitor, if not a spy,” she said, coldly. ‘‘I shall investigate this matter, and at the faintest proof of foul dealing on your ge Pll scatter your brains to the winds with my own hand!” Simple Simon dismounted with a low, care- less laugh. Pausing before the irate beauty he doffed his hat and gently tapped one finger i blood-stained bandage that encircled is he *‘My defense is here. One-half inch lower antl there would have been no brains left for your avenging bullet. For the satisfaction of us both I beg that you will condescend to play the part of n. You can judge whether the wound is a fictitious one, and I—my wound will heal in half the time, if cared for and touched by your fair fingers.” : Half-angry, half-confused, Mattie hesitated. There was something strangel aed pgp about this man. She felt that she hated, dis- trusted him, yet she could not gainsay his will. As be entered the cabin, she follow He re- moved the blood-stained bandage, and, without a word, she proceeded to wash and dress the wound. She saw that his words were true; that he had escaped death by a hair’s breadth. Neither a friend nor himself would have dared to inflict such a wound. Could it be that her instincts were at fault?—that he was indeed a good man and a true? One by one the men came in, until all but Hark Foster had assembled. Their coin- cided. The old man had been with Thomas Hunter when the alarm was given. If one had escaped, why not both? Mattie cast many a doubting glance toward the spot where Simple Simon lay placidly sleep- ing beneath the old tree. Her suspicions were rowing stronger with every minute. It was daylight—the sun was rising—and as yet no sign of her father. Then— A hoarse cry that was not recognized—a ragged figure that was—an ambushed shot— and Hark Foster lay quiverin n the ground in the throes of death, a ender tealiel h his heart! , The scene which followed was one of the wildest confusion. Several of the outlaws fled in abject terror, Others their weapons and stood at bay. Simple Simon, with wonder- ful swiftness, darted to the side of the fallen man, and put his hand — his heart. It was still, and a long breath of relief parted his lips as he was pushed rudely aside. Those lips were sealed in death, and would never betray him now. With this reflection, Simple Simon made a swift, peculiar‘motion as he faced the point from whence had sped the death-shot. That sign told the marksman that all was well, that he might seek safety in flight. Mattie knelt over the corpse of her father, her lips pale, her eyes hot and tearless. It seemed as though her heart was withered, her eyeballs seared. The only being on earth who really loved her was dead, assassinated. ‘* May the hand wither that fired the coward- ly shot—” , As tiough the curse bad aroused him to a sense of duty, Simple Simon raised his voice and called upon the men to follow him and avenge the death of their comrade. He was obeyed, but their quest was in vain. He led the search until che shrill blast of a horn, coming from the clearing, caused his fol- lowers to desert him without a word. ,JOO EOMIGE S (E(e)