Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 192 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

: 1 - s * . ~ : The Lightning Sport. ona ata -doubled on his pursuers and come thither to seek refuge or revenge? It was neither. Some one attempted to give the door a thundering knock, and as his fist fell | on the panel it flew away, revealing through ‘tha door beyond the prostrate form, bound a 1 gagged, and scarcely recognizable as a breman figure in the uncertain lamp-light. “04. Copperheads an’ coal ile!” exclaimed a Sice, ‘‘ what ding-blasted racket er this?” . He was a worthless old vagabond to look at, geous effort that the bummer regained his power to articulate. | “ Hyar it are, jedge,” be gurgled. “ Ef ther agents got Little Lide, an’ ef Miss Nellie _ain’t got back yit, it’s more ner likely they’ve scooped her, too. She war ter meet er young feller, er bloody Britisher ez I reckon you've seen him; an’ Leetle Lide, she knowed_ it, an’ took in ’er hand too. Ther agent seems ter hev ther others, an’ ef yer gal ain’6 got home, I'll put up my socks he’s. got ber too,” but he had nerve enough and curiosity enough | of his owb. Without further delay he stum- bled in and stood over the judge, who was man told the truth, the making all the noise he could to attract the at- | tention of the man outside, whose tones he had | to me in hopes of swindling me out of a few recognized as those of Howling Billy. ‘Pears to me there’s bin a job hyar, er ding-blasted, dog-rotted sorter cross-geared bit ov work ez orter leave er cumfertuble browsin’ patch fur ther ole man. Elijerfishbites! Hyar's ther safe scooped clean ez er whissel, an’ ther jedge lookin’ ther wuss fur wear. Dog-gone it, jedge, yer struck et rough, now, an’ don’t yer disremember. It war lucky ole Billy Ben- der, of Black Dam, war ’round, er ye’d stayed thar till mornin’, an’ then whar would yer bin? Chirk up, ole man! Yer ain’t hurt, an’ Howlin’ Billy ’il hev yer ready fur red-eye an’ pepper-sass in ther jerk ov er lamb’s tail.” Billy was, in fact, as active with his hands as with his tongue; though be used his eyes also, and very good eyes they were. He had recognized the judge, and concluded from his | vigorous efforts that he was not badly if at all injured, and had set about releasing him, though the task was not altogether an easy one. He might have hastened matters by the use of aknife, but he had the wit that hastens slowly. He wanted the judge to positively recognize him, so that there would be no mur- der by mistake upon gaining his liberty. He turned up the flame of the lamp and removed the bandages that covered Schneider's face, Then he tugged and strained at the knots that fastened ankles and wrists. In the course of a . couple of minutes Schneider raised to his feet and stretched out his arms, that were numb from the cutting, tightly-drawn cords. ‘‘Did they get bim?” he eagerly asked. ‘‘ The villain, the outlaw, one of those who last night at the Alhambra styled himself Circus Pete? He fell upon me here in the darkness, attacked me upawares, and robbed me. But I heard the noise of the fighting, and if the boys dropped him I'll divide a thousand dollars in the crowd, If he got away Il’ll give the thousand for bis body, dead or alive.” ‘‘ Now ye’r’ talkin’ sense; but no Circus Pete war it thet took ther trick, but ther real, gen- oowine Bullion Boss bisself, fur I’m ther ante- lope ez spotted him come outen that thar door. I war on me way hyar ter let yer inter a bit ov knowlidge w’ich I thort yer orter know, an’ fur wich maybe ye’d loan me er quarter, er soma sich pecooniyary oblergashuns. It war him sure enuff, fur Circus Pete I seen streakin’ it down-town with er chap I takes ter be Lightnin’ Dick—ez I know care lightning, ter any sorrer.” The judge started and eagerly would have questioned; but Billy held up his hand. ‘Hol’ on, jedge, till yer hear my music, an’ then you sbout ef yer want ter. I reckon now yer don’t know what’s bekim ov yer darter?’ ** What?” ‘* Ob, don’t be skeered; I can’t sw’ar ter ther facks, but ef yer got any tetch ov ther spring chicken about yer gizzard—any sort er weak- ness like, when yer hear bad news—jist ketch bol’ on somethin’ while I bu’st ther budgit.” The judge did catch hold of something, with a fire and vigor that showed he had suffered no serious damage at the bands of, the out- law. ; cS A LE The judge uttered a cry of dismay, .. If this Bullion Boss had struck him for about all :that he was worth, since he had his money, bis secret, and Nellie. ‘You lie, you villain, you bring this story dollars, If you knew it, why did you not come sooner—when your intelligence would be of some use? Why, if this be true, you must be in league with the outlaw, must be his go between, Come! Do you demand a ran- som? If so, you will get it.” The judge was cooler now, but it was a deadly coolness. He could crush the rackety old man in his powerful grasp; but, instead of once more trying that, his hand dropped to the revolver in his boot, which he brought slowly up, cocking it as it came. ‘* Hol on, bol’ on! Elijer fishbites! hol’ on! How did I know it war her? ’Pon me soul ter glory, but I thought it war ther Lightnin’ Sport. She war rigged out till they war like ez two peas, an’ when she passed me sbe didn’t say er word, an’ I didn’t see her more ner er minnit—an’ dark et that.” Howlin’ Billy just now did not belie bis name, for he had plumped down upon his knees, and was holding up his clasped bands in an attitude that was meant for one of appeal. ** And if this be so,” said the judge, with his pistol pointed and his finger on the trigger— “Tf this is so, where is she pow, and what is the meaning of this? You know more, old man, than you choose to tell.” A singular look passed over the face of Billy, though he answered: *‘?Pon me soul ter glory I don’t know noth in’, but it ain’t ther fu’st time he’s played ther game, Didn’t he corral ther boss ov a ’Frisco bank an’ his wife, an’ keep’em till they planked down er cool twenty thousand? He knows yer hev ther rbino, an’ he’ll hold on till yer melt —ef yer don’t steal er hand ez kin knock his flush.” Very true it was that report said that Bul- lion Boss followed the methods of the Italian brigands—but there was some chance of bis having received a fatal wound, and the judge eagerly suggested it. ‘<Not much,” answered Bender, somewhat encouraged, “He plugged to, an’ then lit. Ther rope is ther only thing ter faze him onless we wring in er cold deck. But you an’ me fur pards, jedge, could bring him, fur | know er wrinkle what never growed on er cow’s horn. IJ’d be yer man ter tie to ef you'll put the Hair Pin galoots behind me.” "You? What could you do?’ Howlin’ Billy got up on his feet and leaned confidentially toward his vis-a-vis, as he an- swered in a slow whisper: ‘Ym er ole perspecter, I be, I know these yere mount’ins like er book, an’ I kin lead yer straight ter his lay-out by ther back door.” ‘‘Then you are my man!’’ shouted the judge, ‘By heavens! I'll have him yet! First, now for the Alhambra to look for Cole and his gang. That is the quarters they will strike for if they linger around this town.” “JT knowed it! I’ knowed it!” exclaimed Billy, in a kind of ecstasy. ‘‘ Taem ez sez you ain’t got ther sand far ary job are barkin’ up ther wrong tree. Oh, I’ve been a-watchin’ ov yer fur er long time, waitin’ ter strike yer fur In fact, he caught hold of Billy’s throat rocks, ’ka’se I know’d yer fur sure ther minnit with a fierce suddenness that admitted of no evasion, ‘“You infernal, maundering, rum-soaked idiot, what have you to teil? Spit it out, or by the eternal Vil tear your liver out and take you all apart. Speak quick, or [ll kill you! Nellie. What of her? Where is she?’ The rattling gurgle in Bender’s throat showed that he was making a desperate effort to speak, but the pressure on his windpipe was too much for him, If the fingers bad closed a little tighter and held their gripe a little longer, it is probable that Judge Schneider would never have heard his story at all. When they unclosed it was only by a prodi- ' my peepers lit on yer. But I didn’t think you an’ me would be pards like this. Oh! we'll make a rustlin’ team, you bet, Ole Billy from Black Dam knows er thing er two, tut he don’t go back on er stakeholder, an’ he kin keep his mouth shut,” ' What do you mean by tbat rigmarole?”’ said the judge, with sudden firmness. * It ap- pears to me that I begin to recognize a mad- ness with a method, Before I go a step fur- ther I must know who you are, and what you mean.” ‘Don’t be afeered, jedge, I’m on’y ole Billy Bender, an’ I never Rear os off on er pard yit. Copperheads an’ coal ile, no! I’m solid. But I knowed. yer back Yeast. I spotted yer fur er lamb fur slaughter when yer war wriogin’ in with Clint Bride’s wife. id er made er putty penny outer yer then ef. yer hadn’t sloped. Elijer-fishbites, yes!” ‘* And now, to finish tbis infernal nonsense —who do you say I am—or was?’ ‘* We’s a-wastin’ time,” said Billy, beginning again to be alarmed. ‘‘ Let’s light out on this | yere trail. Ye’ll find me solid.” ** One thing at a time, .Speak. Iam in no mood for trifling.” “ Well, then,” answered Billy, driven into a corner, ‘‘you war Harold Varley back Yeast, an’ er bloody Hinglishman.”’ 5 The judge’s face was livid with passion, and even the broken-down bummer had, noted the low but tense fury of his tone, though.be swas not prepared for what followed, anh. a ‘‘ Then you know more than any.other living man—and more than any man.can,know and live,”’ His band grasped and cocked a pistol that he brought slowly and steadily to a line with | old Billy’s head, but before his finger could tighten on the trigger a voice ran. through the room. ‘* Hold, there! T uch him and you die! If you are Harley Vernon— as you are—you have to settle with us!’ In the doorway appeared Pete Mahone, and just behind him tbe Lightning Sport. Quick as thought the judge jerked his pistol up and fired, and as Circus Pete No. 2 reeled away from the shot, with a bullet in his breast, he fired again at Lightning Dick, whose re- volver at the same moment spoke. Up into the air went the judge’s hands, he © wheeled round and round, and then went to the floor with an awful crash. ‘ Cupperheads and coal ile!” exclaimed Billy, solemnly. ‘‘ He's outen ther wet,” CHAPTER XXXL. THE CASTLE OF DESPAIR, I¥ the Bullion Boss could have been seen the following day seated alone in bis stronghold in a meditative but not unhopeful mood, he would probably have been taken for anything but what he really was, since he had a pleasant, open face. ‘‘ All right,” he was thinking. The game is made and the ball rolling, and I can't stop. I’m in for the entire figure, and make or break I have to get away from bere. A fox don’t steal chickens near his own hole, and I’ve kept so quiet that Slaughter Bar never suspected what a hero they had iv their neighborhood. I saved them up until I was ready to leave, and now I’ve got the screws on for all they are worth. If I had the two sports out of the way, I could go down to the judge and dicker with him right in bis head-quarters. He can understand that he has to see me safe to pro- tect himself. Curse the sports, why didn’t I shoot them both instead of risking my life to hear their infernal yawp! But they are after him as well as me, and a three-cornered fight it is. ** Meantime it wouldn’t be a bad idea to in- terview my respected nepbew—as be mi; bt turn out to be in case avything happened to the judge—end see what the necessities are ‘or fitting him for a wooden overcoat. After that Til look at my gem of jewels. Right there is where the judge and I will bave the split, but she shall be mine if it costs a million. She's worth a fortune in berself. If it don’t suit his hand let bim throw it up and Ill deal bim an- other one,” It is scarcely necessary to say that he knew nothing of what had occurred the nigbt before at the Schneider residence after he left. A foot-step bebind caused the Bullion Boss to look up sharply, though he apprehended no danger. ‘“‘ Ah, it’s you, Jean. Well, what is it?” “The preesonaire,” answered the man ad- dressed as Jean, speaking with a strong Prench accent; “‘ vat shall ve do veeth ze Circus Pete? He ees ze dangerous eenemy in ze camp, but shall he starve to death? Not ze feod have he eet and ve have loosed not his hards for fear he get away.”’ “ Cut his throat then,” said the Bullion Boss carelessly. ‘I bad almost forgotten. The in- formation I wanted out of him—the certainty, in fact—I have obtained from another seurce Yes, you may as well cut his throat and throw him over the rccks. I don’t wont him; and of course we can’t let him go.” 7 ‘* Pardonez moi, but ze boys have ze spicrit | ; ECORNIE OOO KS (C —— oo 2 = a -—— ee 25 ~