Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 188 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

ee : 16 ¢ Yes.” ‘¢ Down I goes,” and down the fellow went, at the same time making an effort to get his hand on his revolvers. But the lariat beld his arms fast, and as he fell, springing nimbly forward, Arta bent over and disarmed him. ‘‘Now, 1 guess you'll keep until papa comes home,” and seizing another lariat, she bound the villain as securely as though he had been in iron fetters. But hardly had she completed her task, when a voice was heard outside, It was Bedrock Mose, and he said: ‘““We has did our work prime, pard Gabe; how is yours been did?” CHAPTER XXVII, A COWARD’S CRIME. At the strange voice outside the cabin Arta started, and at once wheeled on the defensive. But in an instant her presence of mind came back to her, and springing to the window she glanced uickly out, while she made a hurried esture that Grizzly Gabe well understood meant or him death if he replied. What she saw outside did not fill her with de- light, for upon his own horse sat her cousin, Ramsey Preston, his feet bound to the stirrups and his hands securely fastened to the horn o the saddle, while upon either side of him was a capter yey of the odds against her, Arta decided upon ld action, and springing back to the side of her prisoner she whispered sternly: ‘Call one by name and tell him youare tyin me, and bid him ride up the river in search o my father; the other, tell to come in here and aid you.” The muzzle of the revolver was pressed hard against the temple of the desperado as she spoke, her finger was upon the trigger and the weapon was cocked. **Tf you hesitate you die,” she said, hoarsely, Now Grizzly Gabe was a man who in misery loved company, and having been himself cap- tured so cleverly by a young girl, he was but too anxious to draw his companions into the trap and he sung out lustily: “Ob! my work hes been done prime too, fer I has ther gal heur; but you, Bedrock, ride up ther river arter ther old man, fer he’s gone thet way afoot, an’ you, Hank, jist hitch ther horses an’come in heur, fer this leetle gal hev got claws, an’ I needs yer.” Breathlessly Arta awaited, and her heart gave a t bound of joy when she heard one of the villains dash away, and knew that the other was tying the horses to a post near by. A moment more and Hank Lazarus nee unhesitatingly into the cabin, and, with all the strength she could muster, Arta brought the barrel of her pistol down upon his head, and, not knowing from whence came the blow, or who dealt it, he sunk in a heap on the floor. Then, to secure a rope and bind him was the - work of aninstant, while Grizzly Gabe growled: ‘Waal, ef yer hain’t ther boss gal I’ll chaw see ot nheeding his remark Arta glanced out of the door, and seeing that Bedrock Mose was out of sight, she glided up to the horse upon which Ramsey Preston sat in no enviable humor. ** Arta! what means this?’ he asked, with surprise, for he deemed her a prisoner. ‘*Tt means that the Grizzly got his claws cut caught a Tartar, cousin Ramsey, for I captured him, and just now knocked his comrade down as he entered the cabin, but I bape I have not killed him, for I want no life, however vile, upon my hands,” said the spirited girl, hur- riedly, while she was deftly releasing him of his bonds. “What! have you done this?” “ Yes. ” ** And your father?” ‘Went down the river just after you left,” . a you say?” es, ** Then that fellow will—” ‘*Not meet him, for I forced the Grizzly to send his brother villain up the river.” * You are a marvelous girl, and—” ‘** And you are free; now come into the cabin and we will 9 the other one, for there seem to be but three,” ‘‘There are but three; and one, you say, is the man known as Grizzly Gabe?” ‘He is the worst desperado on the border I have heard.” ‘* He is as gentle as a dove now.” * Dead?” **Oh, no; did you not hear him call out to his co ions?” sé did.” “Well, I forced him to do so; come in now.” er n shook himself, as though to feel that he was himself once more, and followed Arta into the cabin. ‘Please see if he is dead, cousin Preston, for I struck him pretty hard,” she said, anxiously. The ranchero bent over the prostrate form and said, slowly: **No, he was merely stunned, for he is con- scious now; you did not kill him, but / will.” The Phanto — ee ee —— ee ST —— — — : SSE —— ~ He placed a pistol over the heart of Hank as he spoke and pulled the trigger. ere was a suppressed groan for mercy, a smothered report, a yell from Grizzly Gabe and a fierce cry from Arta Preston, while she sprung in front of her cousin, her form drawn to its full hight, her face white, and eyes flasbing, and said: ‘‘How dare you do such a cowardly deed as that, Ramsey Preston, murderer, assassin, that you are.”’ ** Arta, hold! and—” ** Not one word, coward; you are not worthy the name of man.” ‘‘Girl, beware, I will not brook such words from you,” he said, savagely. ‘‘T defy you, sir, and cry shame, everlasting shame upon such an act as the one you are guilty of.” ‘* Arta, are you mad? Hear me! That man entrapped me, threw a lasso around my neck and jerked me off my horse, and with his com- rade, threw himself upon me and bound me like a slave. ‘Yonder wretch meant you some fearful wrong, and such monsters are to be dealt with, not as human beings, but as mad wolves, and gion their deeds, and what we would have suffered but for your bravery, I lost self- control and killed the wretch.” He spoke ete entreatingly, and met the burning eyes of the shocked and indignant maiden without rpm * She remained silent, but Grizzly Gabe, who had been horrified by the act of the ranchero, seeing that he would not be murdered, if his beautiful captor could prevent, said aloud: ‘‘Thet are as howlin’a lie as ever jaw wag- ged; he kilt poor pard Hank because he loved the smell o’ blood, and—” Grizzly suddenly cut his sentence off, as the ranchero turned upon him, but was checked by Arta, who said: “Dio not add another crime to the other, cousin Ramsey, by killing a bound man, and, as for your last act, all I can say is the remem- brance of it will be your punishment.” ‘““You forgive me, then?’ he asked, in his earnest way. ‘**Tt is not for me to forgive, and I can never forget it; but we will not speak of it more,” she coldly replied, and then said, quickly: “sé ark!” The sound of hoof-strokes were distinctly yore outside, and Arta glanced from the win- ow. ‘It is their comrade; stand there, cousin Ramsey, and cover him with your pistol, but remember, do not fire unless he resists, and ou, sit, call to him to come in, for your prisoner is in here.” With the pistol-muzzle again against his heart, Grizzly Gabe cheerfully obeyed, and, as Bedrock Mose halted outside, called out: ** Is thet you, Mose?” **It are.” **Got the old man?” ce N ” ‘Come in, fer thar is a circus in heur, an’ yer isn’t charged nuthin’ ter see ther show.” “T are with yer,” answered Bedrock Mose, and he sprung to the ground and entered the cabin, ‘** Move, and you die!” There was no mistaking the words, and Mose saw that his former prisoner now held the drop on him, while Grizzly Gabe was lying on the floor bound hand and foot. ‘‘T am a lamb fer quietude, pard,” he an- swered, with the stoical indifference of the real borderman. ** Hands up!” ** Jist see me bist ’em,” and up they went. “Now, Arta, we will tie this villain,” said pegie | Preston, and the prisoner was quickly and skillfully secured, just as Berkley Preston entered, an antelope on his shoulders, and started back in surprise at what he saw, In a word Arta told all, and Grizzly Gabe put in: “ Thet leetle gal are ther boss, pard, an’ we is tuk in han’some; mout I inquire what is ter be did with us?” ‘‘T will start for Platte to-night and take you there to put in jail, and if the justice don’t hang you the Regulators will,” said Ramsey Preston, ‘* Bedrock, thet are durned bad fer us,” said Grizzly Gabe, dolefully; but he did not feel hopeless, for he knew that if not lynched at once, the jail would not hold him over night, and Bedrock Mose had the same opinion. Half an hour after Ramsey Preston started on his way to North Platte, intending to sto for the night at his own ranch, and he carrie with him the two. prisoners, securely bound upon their horses, and father and hter were alone in their new prairie home, which, in spite of its loneliness, was a haven of rest aote all the dangers and vicissitudes they had own, CHAPTER XXVIIL. THE OLD MAN’S STORY. I WILt now return to Lucien De Leon, the ranchero, after his two startling discoveries, ee ey . , ll lt Ee m Mazeppa. -— ee EE = ~ eat that the grave in the cottonwoods held not the body of Merton Mabrey, and that the man by his side confessed to having killed that person- age, who was his own son, Feeling that the old man was demented, and itying him deeply, Iron Arm, without another ook at the decomposing corpse he had taken from the grave, hastily raised the insensible form in his arms and bore him to the spring not far away. There, after dashing water in his face, he soon brought him back to consciousness. For a moment the old man did not seem to re- call the circumstances that had passed; but after rubbing his hand several times across his brow, he asked, earnestly: - Was that the body of my son?” ‘‘-You mean Merton Mabrey?’ et Bi ‘*Tt was not.” ** Who is it?” ‘‘ The face is wholly unknown to me,” “You say you know my son?” ** Well.” ‘There can be no mistake?’ ‘* None.” ‘You are sure?” “i You can look at the corpse and satisfy your- self. ‘* That would do no good.” ‘You would then recognize it if it was your 7? son. fo, | “Why not?” ‘‘T have not seen him since he grew up to manhood.” ** What?” ‘‘T mean it; he was eighteen when we parted,” ‘‘ He must be fully twenty-eight now.” "7 nes is just his age.” 2b ‘‘ And ten years ago you parted with him ‘Yes; shall I tell you why?” “If you wish to; but not if it will cause you pain,” answered Iron Arm, feelingly. ‘‘] told you that I had killed, as I believed my boy, and through you I found out that I had not, and I will tell you why my son and I parted ten long ee ago. “T was a rich man then, and am now, yet what care I for riches? ‘‘T was a fool then, an old fool, for I fell in love with a young and beautiful girl, ‘‘T believed that she loved my son, Merton, and that he loved her; but I looked upon their affection as childish, and fascinated with the girl, for she was but sixteen, I begged her to marry me; nay, I almost forced her to do so for I was her guardian and controlled her small fortune left her by her parents. ‘‘Some months after our marriage I was taken ay ill, and the physician said I was poisoned. ‘“‘Tt was arare and deadly poison that had been put into a glass of wine I had taken before retiring, and Merton brought me that wine, and in his private desk was found some of the same kind of poison used to end my life, and some had been taken out of the paper. ‘*T at once had an interview with Merton, ac- cused him of attempting to kill me that he might inherit my fortune and marry my widow. ‘“‘He was furious, as I believed then he feigned it, and told me that he hated the wo- man instead of loving her. ‘‘ But I would listen to nothing, called him an assassin, and drove him from my house, and to this day I have not seen him. ‘Poor boy, I learned he was going down hill to the devil, that he wronged a young girl who trusted in his love, and finding it out, she com- mitted suicide, and many other things I heard against my poor son. At last my young wife dishonored my name and fled from my home with another, and I went abroad a heart-broken man, ‘‘ Returning tomy deserted home, I arrived just in time to see my housekeeper die, ‘‘She was a woman I had always trusted, and imagine my horror when she confessed to me that she had aided my wife to ruin my son, that, ea my death, my widow might enjoy my riches, i My wife’s reason was that Merton had scorned her love and she hated him for it as bit- terly as it was her nature to hate. “Yes, young man, from that dying woman’s lips I found out how innocent my boy had been how I had wronged him, and how criminal had been my wife and her confederate in guilt. ‘From that day I sought to find my boy; but he had been a sad wanderer, and I could not get tidings of his whereabouts, though I did dis- cover that he had been deeply wronged in one of the charges made against him, for he had been secretly married to the maiden he was said to have basely deceived,” \ “What! do you mean this?” asked Iron Arm, wer a and intense interest. “*T do. ‘‘What was the name of the maiden?” he ickly asked. ‘Clarice Cordova.” “ce Ah !? With this single exclamation Lucien De Leon sprung to his feet and rapidly paced to and fro, until the old man asked bim: ECOmicbooks: cor