Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 194 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

ing toward where Don Sombrero had been last seen like a man who had seen a ghosi, CHAPTER XXXII. THE ASSASSIN, : It was several minutes before Wilder recov- ered his mental equilibrium enough to reason y calmly, and when he did reason it was only to -’ be plunged deeper into perplexity. % e bad seen the face of Don Sombrero, and, if it had not been so wild an idea, he would have been sure of his identity. Surely, it had been like Rivers’s, but it was preposterous to think the Cavalier could be the road-agent. ‘*He is proud and rich, of noble blood and spotless reputation. Why should he play the road-agent? Don Sombrero has developed no trait except a passion for gold, and Rivers is fairly roling in wealth. it could not have been he.” It was a firm decision, but in the face of it came the evidence of his own eyes and his opinion changed. ‘By my life, [ am not mistaken. face, and, under any other condition Mot willing to swear it was Rivers. So, where is | there room for doubt? Wild as the idea may seem, I know it was the proud ranch-owner!” And then he fell to wondering what could be ‘the motive which had led the Cavalier to such a Sle. cowrse, but he failed to find a mate one, ee “7.4 and he was still buffeting his brain when a & 1 pag howl from the yard stirred him into sud- $az b en life. . 4 ‘‘The infernal dog, by thunder! I'll levant — a i a TE an el a i ol ’ 7 : — a ————— I saw his I would be before he plays the cannibal on my legs. I’m not the tiger-tamer of this circus.” He beat a hasty retreat and went on toward the village, but before the place was reachedia voice behind bim pronounced his name, and he turned to see Theodore Rivers hurrying after : him. E ** What’s in the wind now?” he muttered. . **T want to speak with you, Abe,” said the 5 ‘ Cavalier, as he joined him. ee ** My ears are open.” =. “You remember that picture of the so-called Pode Di Vernon™ “T have at last obtained a clew to the } | present whereabouts. She:is in Thornton.’ . ‘* Good enough.” Ape” “IT have been working through a man I put [out ‘on the track after her flitting, and I have every reason to hope she will return to Mount Tabor to-morrow. If itis so, do you suppose money will open her mouth and give us the truth?” ‘*Wal, I reckon it will, though I don’t know hher mettle. If it should prove so, it would blast Mr. Roberts, Esq., like a mornin’-glory.” , ‘*[ seek only truth and justice, but if Roberts Sod is as guilty as I think him, I want it publicly SO a E ' wpe eisap sarpent. | ‘* Can Ihave your services to-morrow?®” i “ Sartin.” ~} cae . **Then remain at the Casino and I will see syou there early in the forenoon.” After some her conversation the Cavalier said good-night and walked away toward his residence. pa Wilder looked after him with a puzzled ex- rl’s . ra = Sy mae ‘He never breathed a word about the Don | Sombrero business, and he was as cool and a matter-of-fact as though I had not seen his face. “ed eg Ae By Judas! the man ere it be I was mistaken? ! I know better; it was surely Rivers. NowI think I see his ob- ject. He dropped on me now to seeif I sus- d him, and my manner led him to think a econtrary, That is the way of it.” ad 9 es Meanwhile Rivers was walking homeward in at Mito es a thoughtful mood. ae 4 ‘** Pmust get this sheriff off the track at once a and then pm my work. My money is getting | at low ebb, and if I go to any one to borrow, they will suspect that Theodore Rivers is not \ such a millionaire as they think. Hang the luck. I fear 1 shall have to break my resolution to stick to honesty and make a raise by some means or Other.” ae NO, Thoughtful as was his mood, it was not his gee wo nature about like one wholly in a dream. [= 8, He had led a wild life in the past, and this had 95 SA 1 taught him the imperative necessity of caution, Bs , 80 when a soft footfall sounded behind him, he ¥ ¥ wheeled with a quickness due more to habit : , than apprehension. The movement, however, saved his life, and the man who bad crept up behind him with a knife raised for deadly use found himself balked and discovered at the same moment. He would have sprung forward, but the frowning muzzle of a six-shooter stared him in the face and he wisely paused. Rivers recog- mized him, too, for he was the man whom we called “Jonathan” in a previous chapter, a man so often seen with Ben Braxton that those who knew one knew the other. 4 here are you doing?” the Cavalier sharply Ks Nothin’, ” Jonathan muttered. “You were about to stab me. Why was that?” He paused, and then stood silent again, star- glander answered. * Just as you say let this matter rest here. You want m and you can have it if than lam. Shall we fight?’ ‘*' Yes,” was the prompt reply. ** When and where?” ** Now and here.” ‘*Name your weapon.” ** Bowies, by ther Etarnal.” ‘So beit. We will fight. If you win, you will accomplish your object. If I win, I shall et rid of a man who may try again to stab me in the back,” ““That’s the checker,” said Jonathan, who had the strongest faith in his own prowess, ‘* Let’s go outside these trees where the light is better, an’ then we can cut an’ slay tew eour heart’s content.” Rivers agreed and returned his revolver to his belt, but he had little confidence in his com- panion and, as they walked side by side, watched him keenly but secretly. It was well he used the precaution, for Jona- than was not a man to be trusted anywhere. He had come out that night for a settled pur- pose and he wished to execute it, but he did not propose to run any risk of harm to his own precious skin if he could avoid it. He had thrust the bowie back in his belt, but, as they walked on, he secretly drew it again and prepared for a treacherous stroke. Then his hand swept round toward Rivers with a vicious thrust; a blow intended for the Cavalier’s heart, but the latter coolly thrust out his own hand and caught the assassin’s wrist. “Dog!” he then hissed, ‘“‘ you have lost your chance. It is now life and death between us.” And in a moment more the two were clasped in a gladiator like embrace, swaying about in a struggle which meant death to the vanquished. Jonathan had expected an easy victory, but he was not the first man who had misjudged the caliber of the white-handed Cavalier. He found his efforts opposed by steel-like musclés and unexpected agility, and every attempt to free his wrist or obtain a fall was fruitless. “JT am your master!” Rivers exclaimed. “You lie! I will kill you yit,” Jonathan panted. The Cavalier suddenly released his hold on his wrist, only to close like a vise on his knife-hand, and in a moment more the New Englander found the weapon wrested from his grasp. * Vield!” Rivers said, with startling erhphasis. ** Never!” Then he was forced back rapidly, but he ined a new idea. He snatehed a revolver m Rivers’s belt, cocking it quickly, but it was the signal for bis own doom. His adversary recognized the critical state of affairs, and, with all his power, he plunged the keen bowie into the would-be assassin’s breast. Jonathan bounded like a stricken buck, the re- volver fell from his eed and, even as the blood spurted out over Rivers’s hand, the fellow seemed to fade to lifeless clay in his grasp. . Despite his hold, Jonathan slipped to the und, and then, standing over bim, the Cava- ier realized that he had received his last burt. ‘‘It isa fate of your own choosing,” he sol- emnly said, as he dropped the fatal knife. ‘‘Tam a dead man,” Jonathan gasped. “Doubtless you are right, but I wish you a better end.” ‘‘Oh!” yroaned the thwarted wretch, “‘ what a mad fool I have been. I have been led on to my ruin, an’ I shall never see New England CHAPTER XXXII. THE ACCUSATION, Tue last words which fell from the dying man’s lips impressed Rivers strongly. ‘Who has led you on?” he quickly demanded. Jonathan aroused to new life. ‘Ha! yeou would like tew know, wouldn’t eou?” Ae yee? I would. If there was any one behind you, it is upon them, not upon you, my vengeance should fall.” “Tt is tew ed the dying man. “Nonsense! I will care for your wound and you will come around all right.” ‘‘Let me alone. Your knife went deep, and my life is about gone. I am sorry at this late day that I hev lived sech a life, fur there are them who would be sorry that I should die like a murderer.” “T will do all I can for you—care for you now, and, if you are really fatally wounded, send word to your friends.” ‘“ No, no; not fur all the world. They must never hear from me ag’in. Let them think, as they think neow, that I died when the schooner, Mary Jane, went down. But I thank you all the same, an’ I'll do one good deed afore I die. Yeour life is menaced by a man who is high an; mighty in Mount Tabor, an’ it was he who se me on.” . “What is his name?” ** Sheriff Roberts.” ‘*T am not surprised.” “Don’t be tew inquisitive,” the ex-New-En- but I am not inclined to blood, ou are a better man him securely in the net first. nabbed with his disguise on.” for, in that case, P and secure a sweeter revenge, had suspected it before. before this late day. been so baffled in our work. among us, and all he had to do was to whisk off the cloak and hat, and Rivers, the immacu- late, was before us. blind fool.” pr came, and ‘‘He offered me a bundred dollars tew kill yeou, but I little knew the kind o’ a man I had tackled.” “Why does he hate me so?” “]T reckon it is because yeou go so much tew Jedge Austin’s, but I don’t know. Oh! I am going fast!” Jonathan pressed his hand on his breast, and Rivers would have given much to have had Witnesses there at that moment. Enough had been said to confound and overthrow Roberts, but proof would be lacking to confirm Jona- than’s confession. As though in answer to his silent prayer, voices just then sounded from the roadside, and, at his call, two men came to the spot. They proved to be two exemplary citizens of the town, and a brief explanation excited their interest in the case. Jonathan was failing fast, but he managed to tell, jatnly and remorse- fully, how Roberts bad hired him to kill the Cavalier, and there was no longer a lack of proof. The stricken wretch soon expired, his last words being an indistinct murmur about ** New Bedford ” and ‘the Mary Jane,” and in the far- off land of gold went out a life which had once, perhaps, been prized and unsullied in a happy New England home. At that moment, Sheriff Roberts was seated in his private room, face to face with his devoted companion in crime, Ben Braxton, and on the official’s hang-dog visage was a look of amazement. Tt can’t be,” he declared. ** But I tell yer it kin. Isee’l Don Sombrero inter ther grove, an’ no one come out until 0 Rivers rode away on the same identicle black hoss. nobody was thar, which proves that Rivers is Then, when I went inter ther trees, ther road-agent.” * But why should he play such a game?” ‘Tt reckon he isa humbug anyway. Like es not, he ain’t got a penny ter his name, and he lives by what he gits as Don Sombrero.” ‘* In that case, I have him on the hip.” *Sartin you hev, an’ it only needs a whisper ter put Jedge Lynch on bis track. Then a rope will soon eend his career.” ‘The whisper shall be sounded. but I want He must be * You forget Jonathan.” **So I do, but eh a be will fail. I hope so, l save my hundred dollars ‘“*T reckon Jonathan won't fail. He isin dead *arnest, an’ nobody kin use a knife any neater.” ‘*Rivers, Don Sombrero! By Judas, I wish I He should have swung Now, I see why we have He bas been right Devils alive; I have been a ‘* You are sure o’ triumph, now.” . ‘““So Iam. See here, Ben; meet me at the Casino at ten to-morrow, by which time we will know whether Jonatban has succeeded.” Braxton gave his promise, and soon after Jeft the house, while the sheriff, in bis exultation, oceeded to swallow a swimming glass of whisky. That night he slept but little, and the early hours of the following day were passed in watching for Jonathan, who had promised to call and report bis success, but no Jonathan e sheriff was left to wonder why it was so, A little before ten o’clock he left the honse and walked to the Casino to keep his engage- ment with Ben Braxton. Everything was as usual about the exterior of the saloon, and he entered to find a score of loafers distributed picturesquely around the various tables. None of them seemed pleased to see him, but, after a sweeping glance which showed bim Braxton had not yet arrived, he went to an pie phe table and called for a glass of strong uor. nknown to him he had been watcbed and followed from the time he left his own quarters, and when, a little later, a dozen new-comers entered together, he did not suspect their visit concerned him, though he did wonder to see Mayor James in the crowd, and the sight of Rivers by his side was not pleasing. Evidently the Cavalier had escaped Jonathan and still stood high with the best people of Mount Tabor. _ He scowled a little as his rival and the mayor came straight toward him, but the latter nodded genially and they sat down together. : ‘‘We have been looking for you, sheriff,” said James. ‘Meaning you and—” “Mr. Rivers.” ° “Well, I am here,” Roberts curtly said. ‘‘T'am glad of it, for we bave business in hand. Mr. Rivers, what is first on the pro- mme?” i. “T want to speak of the picture of the girl called Di Vernon, which was found at Arcadia in such a way that it appeared to have been COPMIC OCC) s S Eom _