Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 194 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

‘f a a eS ~~~ Sinn are his initials. Whatdoes it mean? Ha! I think I see. This little thing. was presented by him to Edward Austin before—before—” He paused and turned both articles over in his bands, his powerful eyes suddenly dimmed by what looked like tears. “*¢ His bands have touched this little trinket, and it was bis present to the judge. caused him to keep it all these years? __ Yop Somprera. the.S ‘* What living skeleton?’ | “Ob! [was referring to the circus. It was the manager who was mad when the I. s. died. Poor fellow! he would often express concern | for his bealth when we were lacing him up for the night—it was our only holt; he would have been as fat as Daniel Lambert if he hadn't What bas | laced—and he went the way of all good men.” More Pablo and Major Jones did not ask why than that, why does he now bury it here? And | Wilder was going to leave the town, but it was the pistol—has that, too, a history?’ * The road agent turned the weapon over in his hands for a few moments, and then suddenly started. ‘‘Ha! I think I see. This is the pistol which took his life, and Austin bas preserved it and the cigar-case all these years as mementoes, What a horrible taste. Is the wretch so proud of his crime as that?’ : Then he looked toward Arcadia with a re- newéed glitter inhiseyes: ‘Go your way for now, villain, but your day of reckoning is coming, and you shall pay the debt to the uttermost. When you and all your family are brought to the dust, then will your crime be avenged. These articles you have so strangely buried I will keep but some day they shall meet your gaze again.” He refilled the hole, arranging the earth as he had found it, and then, with the pistol and cigar ease gripped in his band, mounted his black horse and rode away from the grove. And while he was swearing vengeance on all of the Austin blood, Octavia was sinking to sleep with a prayer on her lips for wild and wayward Don Sombrero. CHAPTER XXIII. WILDER IN A NEW ROLE. THE citizens of Mount Tabor had seen a good many angry men since the town grew up at the base of the mountain, but Sheriff Roberts rather beat the record when he heard of Don Sombrero’s lass exploit. * It was a piece of impudence, looking at the matter from the official’s point of view, for the road-agent to dare express his opinion on a pla- card to the people of Mount Tabor, but that he should dare to ride into the very heart of the vil- lage when everybody was astir, was more than he could tamely bear. Business had taken Roberts away early in the evening, and it was late when he returned; but, late as it was, a crowd sallied out of the Casino to receive him and break the news gently, Among the number were Ben Braxton, Jona- than, Joe Pike, Cheerful Abe, Pablo Diaz and Major Jones, and they, in common with their associates, were auxious to see how he would take it. They found out when, after telling their story they preceded him to where the road-agent’s lacard hung beside his own, for he read it and hen burst into a torrent of profanity: ‘* Why didn’t you kill the cuss?” he demanded, SO a he regained his command of civilized En- ish. ‘‘ He didn’t wait,” said Jonathan, dryly. ‘“Didn’t he?’ snéered the sheriff, with a hysterical laugh. ‘‘Curse it, did 7 a expect he was going to hang around an ms ker while you wiped out yout sixes? hy didn’t you wade in and kill bim? One well-aimed shot would have settled him.” ‘‘ BAI remember right, you matched coppers with him one night,” said a voice from the crowd. “Yes, I did, but he dropped on me when I was insensible and tied me up likeachild. Al I ask is a fair meeting with him and Pll show you whether he is so mighty a warrior.” ‘Talk is cheap.” “Who spoke?” roared the sheriff. No oue answered. | mx ‘*Ts there any one here that dares insinuate I am afraid to meet Don Sombrero?” **Don’s all speak ter onct.” said Joe Pike, looking around the Mount Taborites. **T reckon the man who ke don’t care to back up his words,” said Roberts, ee a ‘Guess he is struck dumb,” added Pike. Evidently, no one wanted to call the sheriff a coward, but he had few friends among the men and they kept his anger boiling for some time before he left thom and went to his home. Then the crowd broke up, some to return to the Casino and others to seek their quarters. Cheerful Abe had managed to infimate to his praptd he wanted hn with them, and ey followed him oneside.. ; ‘* My worthy corners,” he said, “I wished to say that I am about to leave Mount Tabor for a short time, maybe one day, maybe more. Of course, we must let the immense fortune of the mound alone for a few days, so the Triad won't suffer by my flitting. [ am going out on the sta e, to-morrow, in my own proper charac- ter, “ Carambal Roberts will recognize you,” said Diaz. ‘‘]’]l look out for that. I traveled too long with the N. E. & C, circus to be beat by a one- horse sheriff. Besides, he has got his hands full to catch Don Sombrero. Ha! ha! didn’t he awear some, though? I ain’t seen a madder man since our living skeleton died.” ; | | | LLL DLL EDL LLL tt - because be had heard that the daughters of Judge Austin were going on the stage that he was going to travel the same road. Light-headed and treasure-absorbed as the ex-bare-back rider was, he bad a pair of eyes of excellent quality. He had seen the fair Viola aud admired her, and he was going on the stage for the express purpose of ‘‘ making an impression.” e had no fear that he would be recognized either as the circus man or Cheerful Abe if he assumed his real ch’racter. Since the days of the N. E. & C. he had grown a mustache and ample head of hair, and he would little regem- ble the uncouth Abraham. The following day, when the stage rolled out of the village, it contained but three passengers. These were Laura and Viola, and a handsome young man whom they did not recognize. They were going to the neighboring town to make purchases, but, if they bad given this in- formation to the quiet male passenger, who sat por ng over a paper, it is doubtful if he would ave made an equally truthful explanation of his business. . ; All bis attention was fixed on his paper, but, if he had not looked well to that point in ad- vance, he could not have told whether the sheet was ea or wrong side up. With all bis confidence, and he had an abund- ance of it, he did not know how to open nego- tiations with his fair companions. They were not of a class to be familiarly approached, and he feared that his most élaborate opening would be coldly met. Lueck gave him a chaneé, and one he did not expect. It was nothing more than the sudden dropping of one corner of the stage, caused by the wheel suddenly ting from the axle, but it threw Wilder off his seat, and only his agility saved him from going into the faces of the ladies. “There is almost a demand for an apology, but perhaps I had better see the extent of our mishap first of all,” he said, laughing. “Tt may be the outlaw herdsmen or Don Sombrero,” said Viola, somewhat anxiously.’ Laura changed color but made no comment, Wilder was vainly trying to open the door but, just then, it swung away and the face of the driver appeared in the opening. ‘No occasion for alarm,” he reassuringly said. ‘*The loss of a pin let the wheel loose, but it is an accident soon remedied.” All alighted, and, while the Jehu went in search of the pin, by continuing the A In five minutes they were on their way again, but, finding the ladies not inclined to iia mh the ex-bareback-rider politely continued his remarks, ‘We are fortunate to have no greater tmis- hap, since this is a stamping-ground of Don Sombrero,” he said. ; ** He denies that he committed the stage rob- bery,” said Laura, guickly, ; “The word of a road-agent does not amount to much, I fear. But you spoke of the outlaw herdsmen—who are they, 2 ‘ ‘‘A band of road-agents’ who have their quarters south of here. They seldom venture near this place.” » ‘*T have little to tempt them if they should appear,” said Wilder, smiling. ‘ They might take our lives. They are made up of the worst elements to be found in Califor- nia, and men seldom resist them.” . ‘“*In that case, I suppose it would not be pru- dent to try my revolvers on them.” | ‘““Tt would be suicide. They have no mer¢y when their will is thwarted.” “The authorities ought to put an end to such work, The population is becoming quite numerous about here, and there is no more need of them than there is of poe, in a circus.” The last words had thoughtlessly passed his lips and he immediately looked annoyed, but, bevond a faint smile, the ladies showed no sign of having heard them. The ice, however, was well broken, and, as the Stage rolled on, he kept talking in what he meant for an interesting manner. Judging from appearances, he succeeded well, nor is it to be wondered at. He was intelligent, fairly educated and shrewd, and such a man gqnerally succeeds in being agreeable when he es, CHAPTER XXIV. . A Pa ee eb . HE stage was rollin rough a dense piece of woods at a good pater The driver was oh the box, Singing for his own benefit in a subdued key and erratic fasbion, and the three passengers whiled away the time in conversation. ‘ er improved the opening | ereations “ in sf I will humor you. I am going to take | “my den, there to be kept until Austin 1 som Zt you write?” ‘Wilder. Nothing could be more peaceful than the scene—it rivaled a stage of New England. But, on many stages, the scene is liable to abruptly change, and the'one piloted by’ Joe | Gardner was no exception to the rule. He drove around a curve in the road, plain- tively siiging ‘“‘ Baby Mine,” and then pulled up as suddenly as though the baby in question was directly in front of his wheel. If such had been the case it would not only have been a romanti¢ event but a singular coin- cidencé. It would have been lucky for the { travelers if it had been so, but it was the sight of a dozen full-grown men, all with rifles parently growing out of their shoulders, whic had broughtold Joe to bis halt. He took one good look at the ominous gang and then sat like a statue. | ‘* Halt!” said one of the strangers. . “Tt is done,” Joe answered, a little nervously. Two men advanced to his horses’ heads, | Hands above your head!” - | “Up she goes,” said Joe, promptly obeying, | ‘Keep them there,” | ‘“You bet.” | "Who have you got inside?” | ‘Two females and one male pilgrim.” | “The females are Judge Austin’s daughters?” ‘* Yes,” said Joe, in surprise, ) ‘“Who is the man?” | “Don’t know,” nade | ** Heeled ?” Tho speaker walked’ to’ th stage do | e speaker wa © oor , | opened it with a jerk. Wilder had been os a ling With it, in an attempt to learn the cause the fresh Lie ey but as a glittering “ | was thrust into b face, he began to see cle ‘“Hold on!” he said, quickly but co | ‘Turn vour pepper-box the other side up care. Use no hooks.” ‘ a? | sfc out of here,” was the sharp com- i 4 mand. | | “Cert. Pleasé stand back and give the mourners a chance.” *” eons | - He was not frightened, nor yet subdued, but | he wantéd to count noses before beginning’ exchange of lead with the strangers. One a sweeping glance was enough to satisfy him, | | | | . however, that fighting was out of the question. ‘“* Give me your sixes,” . Wilder promptly obeyed. Paso, “You are a sensible mati, Now, ladies, i / will trouble Dh to alight.” might have been expected, *‘ wha mean?” ““T spoke good English. Alight and you shall | , . ) “Do not anger him,” said Viola. “Ido not | think they will harm us.” oo | She gave good advice, as Laura well knew, ' | and they were soon on the ground. A ‘‘ Now,” said the outlaw leader, te ont i . ‘*Sir,” said Laura, pale-faced but calmer than | } f va | » yoy nh whet write a letter to Judge Aust! . She paused suddenly, but he finished for her, “To your father. Here are a pencil and sheet of paper. Write as I dictate.” “What is your object?” aiid ‘You are eaters a woman always is, bub you. Is that plain enough?” . The girls bégan to ask for mercy; but ie “eit | Pee EWORE tbEt HO han Mist! DatoneyotCInt - s at no harm ‘be ou, but nothing on earth will change oe purpose, Wil “Phere was'no helfi for it,/ahd notdaring’to arouse the demon in his nature, Latira accepted OS Be a cv piety. | 5 c e judge and write as ov | Are od resay?” . , AP inet odd Laven ie ** Yes,” Laura replied. Vit . - “Write, ‘We have been” taketi Spite ‘a San Antonio, the bandit, ad wil ‘be car poe . He me us Siltte | away to his home in the moun : \ us no harm, and his sole object in “caper 4 is to secure a ransom from you. He dem + one thousand dollars for each of us, and § e that if you will be at the Devil’s Gorge, at the foot of Terrace Peak, Thursday’ evening at nine v’clock, he will be ready to treat No lk ere warns you against treachery, and bids you the recordof his past career to discover whether he is in earnest.” Have you written?” | : “Yes, sir,” Laura answered. | ** Sign it, ‘Laura and Viola.’” — ida ¢ She obeyed, and San Antonio, as he had call- - ed himself, read it ti Me through. / on “That is all right,” he said, and turned ‘to es The latter, having heard what had been said, => was wondering what would be don¢ with him- = self. . “Who are you?” the bandit tersely asked. _ ? ‘, Peter D ple, sir,” was the prompt fe | By Who will ransom you?’ “The Lord knows; [ don’t.” ‘‘ Haven’t vou any friends?” “ Not that I know of.” | * | must have a ransom for you.” i ‘*T don’t know who would give a picayune te oe + oe ‘acvF cy ; / ae Ghookszcom GoM