Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 194 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

f | —s 2 ne a ‘a - Ag I A OT: I EE TET la Aes ts eR ee ee a Se A ° < - ~% ~ ous well. of his knife, away from Mount Ta ppearan _ rejoicing in the sobriquet of Cheerful Abe really, named 12 ‘Don Sombrero, the California Road ‘ Gent. lll] OOOO OCC — ——— ‘* Aha! so the wind blows from that quarter. I see all now, but you wrong me, Rivers. Iam not the dastard you think me.” ‘You choose a good term, sir. It was a dastardly piece of work. You laid your plot Less than a week ago the girl Di went to Bush, the photographer, and sat for her pic- tutes. They were delivered to her the night before the picture was found at Arcadia, and _ Bush has a negative exactly like the one found. I claim, sir, that you wrote what was on the back and sent it into Miss Austin’s hands be- cause aia thought she would not have among her friends a man who was intimate with the girl Di.” “Perhaps you can substantiate your claim,” said Roberts, trying hard to keep down his anger. **T intend to do so, sooner or later, but, as you hurried to the 1 and sent her away from ount Tabor, post-haste when you found me so hot on the trail, I shall have to wait awhile.” The keen eyes. of the Cavalier saw that Roberts was nervously with the hilt nae ut, with a powerful effort, he swallowed much of bis rage. . ‘* Rivers,” he said, ‘‘ you are doing me a great in‘ustice. Iam as innocent as an unborn Ba I know nothing of the picture, I did not send Di r, and I have hatched no plot with her. Moreover, { am very sorry this trouble has occurred.” ** You plead not guilty,then?’ **I do, sir.” , LY Well, be that as it may, you and I bad best understand each other from thistime. I haveseen much and heard more which leads me to think you are my enemy. You tried to poison the minds of people at the cave when Miss Oc- tavia bad so narrow an escape. You talked about my recklessness, when you know you urged me on to that point by word and look.” oberts held up his bands in seeming horror. ‘What next?” he cried. ‘* Next,” said Rivers, sharply, ‘‘ we are ene- mies. I hate a snake in the grass, and, believ- ing you to be just that kind of a man, I shall watch you. Take care, Sheriff Roberts, that you do not fall into your own pits. Good-day!” The Cavalier dashed the spurs into his bay horse and galloped away, unheeding the shout which followed. ‘** Devils alive!” hissed the sheriff, ‘‘ the cuss has sealed his own doom!” CHAPTER XVIII., CHEERFUL ABE'S DEAL, As Rivers rode away he watcnaed the sheriff until sur. he was beyond pistol-shot, and then looked no more, ‘*It may be I was foolish to put him on bis guard,” he muttered, ‘‘ but I had to let the des- pinabi wretch know what I thought of him. oreover, I prop-se to beat him at his own geome and let a Austin know him as he is. Lintended to merry the girl myself I would _ not do more than I will do now.” As he neared tbe village he saw a man loung- ing in the road, and at once recognized him. ‘It is Cheerful ,Abe,” he said. ‘'He is prompt, and I hope he bas good news.” He nope? on until he reached the man, and then drew rein, ** Good-morning,” he said. ‘i Mornin’, squire, mornin’,” said the genially. ‘* It’s a galorious day, ain’t it? “s Very fine,” “Tt makes my soul expand,” Cheerful Abe declared, ‘“ q raneoenia the actom o’ hu- “ Well, have you any news?” ‘**Some, squire, some, All looks bright alon ther borizontal. Did you meet ther sheriff? — a gallopin’ by like an Arabian simon a ago, “| met him and told him just what I thought other, of bim.” i Moey Thee meet es, was rash, I suppose, b , help it. Heisa Bret clase villa.” sear agi ‘A pestiferous cuss,” amended Cheerful Abe. This latter person, by the way, was one that Rivers had called: into his service because he needed some one and bad to strike hap-hazard. He was, to alla ces, & very plain nem , but, Turner, according to his own statement, Onky two ple in Mount Tabor knew that he was in ise—Pablo Diaz and Fe al Jones knew him to be the leader of the : As ‘‘Cheerful Abe,” the ex-bareback rider had assumed a very frank and genial air, which favorably impressed Rivers w run upon him, and a bargain was soon made. Wilder at at the chance to work against Roberts, and the Cavalier believed he had found just the man he wanted. “Well,” continued the latter, ‘‘ what have hen chy page ve diskiver e owner O *‘ Ha! who is he?’. si pare ee ton,”’ ; That ruffian?”’ ‘*Roberts seeks fine allies,” “Vultures of a feather flock together.” ‘Well, then,” said Rivers, energetically, “I think the case stands about in this way: b- erts hatches up the plot alone, but is too shrewd to show his hand. He goes to Braxton and seeks his aid. The bully goes to the girl, Di, and offers her a good sum for her picture. She has none, but is induced to go to Bush and sit for the photographs. They are delivered to her at the proper time and she meets Braxton where I found their footprints and gives him one of the lot. This one he passes along to Rob- erts. So far, the case is clear, but what are we to do next?” ‘* Make Braxton confess.” / ‘* How can we do it?” “T have a plan which I think will work.” ‘* What is it?” ‘‘He must be made drunk an’ then pumped.” ‘Can you do it?’ ‘‘] reckon I kin, Ef you will leave the mat- ter to me, I will undertake ter make him confess in ther presence o’ two witnesses, an’ the three on us ou ht to be enough ter convince ther folks at a. ‘Can you get good witnesses?” By - you know Reynolds, the ranchman?”’ es. ‘Wal, his two sons are jest home from an Eastern college. They fell afoul o’ me last night an’ want me ter show ’em ther ropes 0’ Mount Tabor. They are ter be my witness an’, as they stand wal with ther Austins, reckon their testimony would be convincin’.” ‘‘1t would, indeed,” said Rivers, earnestly. “Tf you can make this scheme work, you shall be well paid.” The two remained in conversation for some time longer, after which the Cavalier rode homeward. ‘“ Matters have taken a queer twist,” said Wilder, looking after him. ‘One would think I bad work enough on my hands to secure the mound treasure, but, if I can beat the sheriff and win an honest penny at the same time, I’m in for it, neck and heels. The Triad can wait. Ab! what would the circus boys say if they knew the new roles Iam enacting? I am a treasure hunter and a detective combined. Wouldn’t the tattooed man rejoice at my good fortune!” That night, the Casino was in full blast and Ben Braxton was in high spirits, His hands | had nearly healed where Pablo’s knife cut through them, and, though still watching for Wilder, whom he failed to recognize in Cheer- ful Abe, he was as amiable as a well-fed griz- aly. ‘While lounging about the room he felt a touch on his arm and turned to see the disguised leader of the Triad. ‘‘ Pard,” said Cheerful Abe, ‘‘d’ye want some ’ un? ‘‘Reckon I do,” the bully declared. | “Thar are a pair o’ fresbies over yon wheat ~vant two veterans, es they call it, ter chum | with them.” ‘Say no more,” said Braxton. ‘* Ther how]- | in’ tempest. o’ the Rockies is on deck.” And then Cheerful Abe led the way to the | table where two young wen with bran-new miner’s suits on their backs, and the unmis- | takable pallor of civilization on their faces, | were awaiting him. Of course, the young men were the ranch- | man’s sons before mentioned, end, though they | looked very mild and innocent, they were, like | most college graduates, thoroughly at home in many dark ways. Braxton was introduced, and he sat down and smiled like a hyena. The young men want- ed to play cards a little, amd he was only too willing to accommodate them. For an hour, matters went uneventfully but favorably. They played for small stakes, and, as Cheerful Abe had whispered to the bully that it would be well to let them off light for then and fleece them at another time, little money changed hands. . Braxton had been drinking heavily all the evening, and, when Cheerful Abe vo unteered to pay all liquor bills, the fellow kept it up, much to the delight of the allies. € He was preternaturally witty, he guyed the young men in what he thought an obscure way, frequently winking to Abe, and was, in his own opinion, brilliant beyond comparison. But, in the midst of his splendor, he w thick-headed, and the astute leader of the saw that the time had arrived for bis attempt. He suggested that the young men ought to be introduced to some of the young ladies of the cini _ rho shall we take?” he asked, of Braxton. *T don’t know of any _ better than Di Vernon,” the bully declared. “She” don’t know mie,” said cheerful Abe. “« T couldn’t give ther introduction.” ** T kin,” Braxton d ** She knows me, an’ I’ve got a grip on her. She will do what- ever I say.” “Good. looking?” asked one of the young men. “A rep’lar Hebe. Ob! she’s a daisy from Ozark an’ no discount.” _ vorably imp ‘‘T don’t want any homely woman.” ‘‘She ain’t that kind. Ef I had her pictur’ I’d show you, Ihad one, t’other day, but I lost it.” “That was bad. How did it happen?” the young man carelessly asked. “Wal, Dll tell yer,” the fellow answered, with a sudden outburst of confidence. ‘“ It’ the richest thing youever heerd on. Yer see thar is a rich galoot lives nigh here named Rivers. I hate him ’cause he is rich, an’ when I found him sparkin’ a gal up nigh his house— her name is Austin—I thought I would put up a job on him jest fur fun. SoI goes ter Di an’ gets a pictur’, an’ on ther back I gits her ter write a verse 0’ poetry in this wise: ‘ Theodore, from his lovin’ Di.’ ” Braxton leaned back in his chair and laughed until tears ran from his eyes, while the allies looked at each other exultantly. They were on the trail of the serpent. CHAPTER XIX. A GLIMMER OF LIGHT. Wen Braxton’s mirth had somewhat sub- sided, he went on with his story, encouraged by the admiring words of his companions and another drink of whisky. ‘‘ Havin’ thus fixed ther pictur’,” said the bull ,,. 1 put it whar it would do the most “Sent it to Rivers, I suppose,” said one of the young men. ** You pees wrong, young feller. What ood would that do? No, went ter old ustin’s an’ flirted it over ther fence, right whar the gal would find it. O’ course she did find it, got mad at Rivers ’cause he bad another gal, an’, resultantly, Betsey and | are out. pee? . Again the fellow indulged in a spasne of mirth, but Cheerful Abe was not satisfied. Braxton had undoubtedly been speaking of what he knew, and, as no one except Roberts could bave spoken of the scene at Arcadia out- side of the house, it followed that the bully had really had a hand in the scheme, But, he had not yet mentioned an accomplice. So the three went to work to gain further revelations, but net a thing could be learned. All. their cunning arts and seductive words availed nothing—he had become close-mouthed and would tell no more, Evidently, enjoying the trick against Rivers. ‘too much fo keep it to himself, he had made the revelation it a drunken outbreak, but, even then, was too shrewé to betray Roberts. They were not inclined to give up the battle, but, when his utterance grew so thick as to be indistinct, they propped him against the wall and he was soon asleep. Kneagn had been learned to clear Rivers’s pa ut they had failed to implicate the sberut, Cheerful Abe bade his allies good-night, with the agreement that they were to meet at ten o'clock the following day, and the young men left the Casino. Outside the door they saw a Jorg-bearded | miner who accosted them. « Boyees,” said he, ‘‘I hopes es how you'll ex- cuse ae meddlin’, but l’m an old ’Forty-niner, an’ I’d like ter say a word ter you.” ‘*Go on, duke, on,” said one of them, fa- by the man’s looks, “JT see’'d you im thar hobnobbin’ with Ben Braxton. ou seem ter hev slewed him under ther table, but I want to warn yer that he is a bad egg. I’ve b’en in Californy sence '49, an’ I never see’d a wuss reptyle than Ben Braxton.” “You think if we fool around him we'll get our wings singed, do you?’ ‘Vas, that’s ther lay-out.” “Don’t you worry about us. We have had our first and last interview with Mr, Braxton. Good-night,” They walked off leaving him staring at them blankly. ‘They t’ar themselves away like a peon from a mesquite,” he muttered. ‘* on they won't tell me why Ben Braxton was made drunk, but I’ll try Cheerful Abe, Ef thar wa’n’t some 2a goin’ ter-night my name ain’t Joe ike. The following day the family at Arcadia was assembled in the sitting-room when four callers were ushered into their presence, and they saw Rivers, the Reynolds brothers and a miner wlio was introduced as Mr. Turner. Since the finding of the picture, the Cavalier had not been near the house, and they wondered what meant this visit, but, after being received with much more cordiality than he had ex- pected, he plunged at once into business. Referring to the picture affair, and his vow Psa up the mystery, he briefly told the re- sult. ar ‘*T went at once to the village, in search of the girl, but, when I learned where she lodged, she was gone, having disappeared an hour be- 2 ti ced which leads — to believe she was sent away Dy some enem mine. ‘* By questioning ber landlady, I found that the girl had lately had a dozen photographs taken, and, on visiting Bush, the photograp2er, \ Eboo (¢ (0) com S