Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 197 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

Rev -_——_ — ee ee . ——_ > _ f olver Rob, the Red-Handed. — ——— - — _-S_ Pet Flamsteed still lay on the rocks, though it | ‘‘ Look! See those rocks atthe bottom? One | who was to fall upon them, starting from this was evident that her lost senses were rapidly returning to her, for as the exulting villain bent over her, she shrunk away with a low cry | of horror. A heartless laugh came from his lips, and | there was adevilish glee visible in his snake- eyes as he spoke: , ‘‘My turn has come again, you sse, little one. as your champion now, and not even Heaven itself cam save you from my clutches this time.” ‘Have mercy!” gasped the poor woman, faintly. ‘‘Wby do you persecute me so mer- cilessly? Have I not already suffered sufficient- ly sor any mistake I may bave made in the past! ‘There is only one reparation you can make that will satisfy me,’ was the swift reply. ‘Make good the vows you plighted before that man came between us with his bags of gold. Become my wife, and together we will bury the black past so deep that not even the trump of resurrection day shall unearth it. Refuse, and—” ‘“T do refuse, now and forever!” cried Pet Flamsteed, with a flish of her wonted spirit. ‘‘Though the charge you have made against me isa foul lie, yet were it true, and did I know that you could and would prove it against me, yet still I would scorn and defy you, as I do now—traitor and coward!” With flashing eyes she confronted him, and for a moment the arch-villain cowered before her indignation, fearful that she was armed, but as the little woman made no sign of this, he quickly recovered his composure. ““So mucb the worse for us both, if that is the case,” he said, with a cruel laugh. ‘I have inted out the only hope of cheating the gal- ows: think well before you reject it, for 1 am a desperate man, now, and will win the stake I am playing for, or drag you down to perdition with me!” A sound from Dashing Della attracted his attention, and turning, he saw that she had re- | covered her consciousness and was vainly striv- ing to release herself. Her efforts suddenly ceased as she saw that his attention was drawn toward ber, and in a husky tone she cried: Ss | Look There is no gallant road-agent here to act | point, would not suffer much—only the brief torture of the swift descent through empty air! well—look close! For, true as the sun shines in the heavens above me, I will burl you down to meet your death upon those cruel rocks, unless you take the solemn oath which I am ready to dictate. Reflect—and speedily !” There was a deadly determination in his tones, and Pet Flamsteed knew that he meant all he said, but she would not yield. He saw | this, and his stern gripe tightened, but at that tee tee ‘“Villain—unprincipled scoundrel! you will | not leave us here, bound and helpless?” There was something almost ridiculous in the | strong contrast between that exclamation and the question which so closely followed it, and Jasper Quigley grinned as be replied: ‘* Pray for some one to chance along and find you before the mountain wolves scent the feast which awaits them, for I have neither the time nor the inclination to bother more with you. Live or die, just as fate decides; I care not which.” critical moment a wild, savage roar rent the air, like that of a lion!” CHAPTER XIV. BARNACLE BILL REDEEMS HIS CREDIT. From only one pair of lungs could that Jeonine roar have issued—those of Barnacle Bill, the Wall-eyed Pike o’ the Peak. The giant had been very drunk when he first addressed ret Flamsteed, and up to the moment when he made that unlucky stumble and | oe her by the shoulder with the instinct whic leads a drowning man to catch at a straw, each fleeting instant but intensified that intoxication, until be not only lost all control of himself, but was actually unconscious of doing or saying anything. But from the iustant that he was stricken down by the bullet of Dashing Della, his cure began, rapidly progressed through all that fol- lowed, until deep shame and humiliation left i sober as he ever was in the course of his ife. Had he been set at liberty immediately after Dashing Della completed ber barber-ous punish- ment, there is little doubt but what the giant would have sought revenge of some sort upon the destroyer of his sole claim to beauty, but the good advice which the blonde siren so earn- estly gave him, softened his feelings of resent- ment, and he remembered that if his punish- ment had been severe, so his conduct had been unpardonably rude and insolent. This was the entering wedge, and ere Jasper Quigley had fairly completed his capture of Dashing Dell the native chivalry of Barnacle Bill was and he was not only ready but eager to fight to the death in defense of the woman who had shorn him of his crowning glory. Nor did his hair-breadth escape from death at the hands of the arch-villain quench his chiv- alric ardor, though he was wise enough to hold Turning once more to Pet Flamsteed, he rasped her by one arm, bending until his harsh ace almost touched hers as he hissed forth the words: ‘‘T have gone too far to retreat now, even if I wished. You must do one of two things. Yield to me—swear that you will marry me when and where I ask you, and on my part I pledge you my honor that you shall never have cause to regret taking that step. I will treat you like a queen, You shall roll in riches. You shall want for nothing that mone procure for you. and I will te the bumblest, most loving slave that ever woman had kneeling at her feet. All this, if you swear what I ask!” or love can | Your word shall be my law, | Jasper Quigley paused in his impetuous speech | to learn what effect it had, but though Pet | Fiamsteed spoke not, the manner in which she averted her face and shrunk away from him, was far more eloquent than mere words. The evil light grew deeper in his snake-like eyes, | and his bony fingers increased their pressure | until a low moan of there was no merc “You refuse? or her in him now. eware! Even yet I would save you from the gallows, for despite myself I | cannot forget those days in the long ago when you swore that you loved me—when I lived for a few brief weeks in a fool’s paradise, only to awaken in _ ig ‘‘Mercy! Spare me!” gasped the woman, shrinking in terror from that mad light ain escaped her lips. But | his feelings more in check, while striving all the time to free himself from his bonds. He had only partially succeeded in this, when Jasper Quigley dragged Pet Flamsteed to the verge of the canyon, and there threatened her with instant death in case she persisted in ber defiance of his wishes. Though the back of the scoundrel was turned toward hiro, Barnacle Bill believed that Jasper Quigley was in deadly earnest when he uttered the fierce threats which came to the hearing of the two bound captives, and a momentary Pop ty of the flushed, satanic countenance as the villain turned t way around in swingin the light form of the maiden from the ground, but served to confirm this belief, and lent him ten-f-ld strength for the time being. The silken sash which bound him to the rock was torn asunder, and leaping erect as the leather thongs on his ankles gave way, that lion-like roar burst from the lips of the infuri- ated giant as he bounded toward Jasper Quigley. The villain wheeled swiftly as he heard that _ menacing cry, and the mad flush faded from his countenance at the sight of that terrible foe, but the same glance showed him that the giant bore no weapons other than those bestowed ve him by the hand of nature, and with a snarling cry, such as a hungry wolf might give when bein driven from a bardly-earned feast, he drop the form of Pet Flamsteed on his left arm, snatching a revolver from the belt at his waist with the other. Barnacle Bill saw the action, but the same mad fu without losing time in arming himself, rendered him blind to the death which stared him in the face, and on he dashed, to reel and stagger like one in receipt of a mortal wound as the revol- poor girl- | ver of the villain exploded spitefully. ‘**Ah ha!” snarled Jasper Quigley, as he peer- which seemed to scorch her as it streamed from ed through the puff of smoke and saw the giant those glittering eyes, for she believed that Jas-— per Quigley had suddenly gone crazy. ‘‘ Mer- bull-headed fool— ciful Heaven! is there no hope—no one to rescue | me from this demon?” “Only death!” was the hissing response. “ My bride or his! Take your choice between my love and a gory winding sheet—” ‘*The last, then!” ' stagger and sink upon his knees. ‘‘ Die,* you Hell and fury !” Chokingly the furious imprecation came forth from the Sees of the villain as he saw Bar- | nacle Bill recover himself and dash forwerd denly rallying and speaking with a desperation | born of utter despair. ‘‘ Kill me, since you | will not relent—kiJl me at once, and have it | over with!” For an instant Jasper Quigley hesitated, but then, with a ferocious laugh, he ey 2 ar pa woman up in his arms and bore rocks, pauane on the very brink of the deep canyon, holding her light form over the verge, so that she could look down into the dizzy depth. ~ with that same deadly hatred glaring in his oggle eyes, for he knew that it could end onl cried Pet Flamsteed, sud- | pogele ey y in his death should he not be able to check that huge form before those mighty bands closed upon him. There was yet enough space between them— some half-score yards of thick-lying bowlders— to t him time for one more deliberate shot, and, dropping the half-fainting form of Pet Flamsteed, Jasper Quigley steadied his revolver with both hands as it rose to a level and follow- ed the leaping giant. At such short range, even at a flying wi | ashot could hardly help but prove fatal, an which urged him to make the assault’ 19 — ee ee CS . ———— — re the assassin showed his teeth in a devilish grin as he pressed the trigger with a finger that was steady as fate, when the gigantic form of Bar- nacle Bill was scarcely three yards away. But once again was he doomed to be foiled, for Pet Flamstead, with a courage born of des- peration, sprung to his side and flung her whole weight against his arms, destroying his aim and turning him half-way round. A curse of fury escaped his lips as the pistol exploded harmlessly, but ere he could do more, Barracle Bill leaped over the intervening rocks and clutched him with a maddened grasp, in which the arch-villain was helpless as a child. Those brawny hands closed until it seemed as though flesh and bone must be crushed to a pulp under their terrible pressure; then, sbriel- ing in horror, the form of Jasper Quigley was raised from the ground, heaved high above the bristling head of the giant, then hurled as from a mighty catapult over the rocks, through the air—where? Down through empty space—down into the yawning jaws of the canyon! One frightful screech of mortal terror—a brief silence—then a sickening crash! It was not through deliberate intention that Barnacle Bill chose this terrible doom for the villain. Hard hit, feeling that he had received his death-wound, the giant was wild, mad, boil- ing over witha deadly rage that knew no rea- son, with a bloody mist obscuring his eyes, knowing not whither he hurled his craven foe. He — thought of killing this devil before he himself was conquered by death, and as that frightful screech came back to his ears, his powers suddenly failed him, and with a gasping groan he sunk down in a helpless heap, Instantly Pet Flamsteed was beside him, yvain- ly striving to raise his blood-staimed head, call- ing him by name, sobbing with mingled horror and grief. But there came no auswering word, no sign from the giant, and she felt that he was indeed dead—that he had given his life to pre- serve thet of one who bad been a party to the shameful humiliation which had n heaped upon him, “Help me—cut me loose!” criel Dashing Della, but the sobbing woman heard her not, for, as if in answer to the burning tears which fell from her eyes upon the face of her preserver, the giant gasped—drew a short breath—then struggled to a sitting posture. ‘* Back fin up an’ tail a-wigglin’!” he muttered, faintly, his buge paws closing mechanically on the trembling hand of the little woman, but asa burning tear dropped upon bis skin, the blurring mists seemed to clear away from before his eyes, and he gazed wonderingly into the face which was bent over him. ‘* You cryin’, anngel- ifferous madam! An’ fer me!” Pet Flamsteed stooped until her lips touched his hand. ‘You saved my life, at the expense of your - It was not worth it—it was cot worth ‘* Then that p’izen cuss?” gasped the giant, as he strove to arise, but his strength was not equal to the task, and the cold perspiration started out on his forehead in great dro “T kin see it all now,” he muttered, huskily; his words separated by a choking rattling in his throat. ‘‘l remember—that p’izen cuss was goin’ to throw you cver the ditch, but I fooled him—old Wall-eye fooled him, he did!” ““Do not try to talk—you are not strong enough—” A husky, rattling laugh from the ashen lips of the giant cut her short. A hectic flush came into his face, and his bony fingers closed upon her hand as though they would crush it: but the brave little woman never flinched, for sue felt that this diamond in the rough was dying— dying for her sake, in her defense. “Strong enough? I kin out-pull a team o’ elephants, kin throw a buffler bull forty rod with only a bob-tail holt, play jack-stones with the Rockies, an’ with a brace fer my toad- smashers, kin hold the ’tarnal airth from turn- in’ ’round, an’ that without once spittin’ on my han’s!” Gasping for breath, Barnacle Bill ceased speaking, and his denuded head drooped until his face rested upon the little hand which he still held, though with a rapidly weakening grasp. Though she strove to do so, Pet Flam- steed was unable to utter a word; for the mo- ment she felt as though she loved this rough diamond—that with his death she would be de- prived of her dearest, only friend. As a candle flickers up in its socket when on the point of going out forever, so the giant seemed to revive for a moment, with the ruling passion strong as ever, for he muttered: ‘* Back-fin up an’ tail a-wigglin’! Scat! ye little minners, fer the one an’ only great an’ ’riginal Wall-eyed Pike o’ the Peak is on the war-path, jest a-boomin’! Blood in his two eyes, ha’r on his teeth, rattlesnake p’izen on each one 0’ his spine, an’ a chromo painted onto each and every shiny scaJe! Cl'ar the riffles, fer hyar we come—double distilled, lightnin” biled down—who-ee-k-E /” His face blood-red, his like living coals of fire, le-eyes glowin | hacle Bill leaped to his feet and pealed forth his ringing war-cry EGhbooks-com Goim