Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 197 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 Revolver Rob, THE RED-HANDED; 7 R, The Belle of Nugget Camp, BY JOSEPH EB. BADGER, JR., AUTHOR OF ‘OLD 749,” ‘‘ SWEET» WILLIAM,” ** JOAQUIN THE TERRIBLE,” ‘‘ THE LONG HAIRED ’PARDS,” ETC., ETC. eC —— —_—— -—— ee CHAPTER I, THE LEAGUE OF SIX, ‘“It’s an ugly job—monstrous ugl —an’ the = a feller gits to it, the uglier it looks!” ely audible to his own ears, these words dropped from the heavily-bearded lips of a man who crouched there amid the thick-lying bowl- ders and scrubby bushes, his head cres like that of some frightened snake, his gleaming eyes fixed upon a skeleton form which was but dimly outlined by the first rays of the rising moon. It was a wild and dreary-looking 5 Se seem- ingly in the heart of the Arizonian Foot hills. On three sides the ground rose in rocky waves, grim and frowning, the ragged rocks and mis- shapen vegetation forming many a weird, fan- tastic tableau; the effect of which was deepened by the ghostly light’ of the moon as it sifted through the tree-tops beyond. Near the bead of the V shaped valley thus formed, stood the skeleton form—the ruins of a derrick and windlass, beneath which yawned the mouth of a shaft; a dark and gloomy pit, which told of. vain hopes and blasted prospects in the days gone a “'Thar’s the shaft, an’ thar’s the rope around the drum, jest as the paper said,” muttered the man, as he stared at the ruins, conflicting doubt and suspicion in every line of his hard features. *** Bo here to-night as the moon comes up; so if run. Not a word nur a hint to nobody, ef ‘you want to git even with the man who killed your’ brother, without no resk to yourself.’ ‘* Jes’ so the paper talked. But who writ it? Who putt it onto my shirt when I was sound asleep? Was that last line a lie, or did ib mean jest what it said: ‘A fri’nd to you, an’ a inemy to Revolver Robinson.’ Wasn’t it all a cunnin’ trick o’ Revolver Rob, to git me out here an’ putt a ind to the death-hunt which I swore ag’inst him when I l’arned how he killed pore little Dandy? An’ yit—why should he take so much trouble, when he could ’a’ ended it all then—when he mought’a’ stuck a knife through my heart, jest as easy as he stuck that pin through the paper an’ my shirt?” For a few moments longer the man lay still, then, as though he had conquered his Rouble, he arose, only to drop down oncs more as he caught the sound of hasty footsteps from the valley below, Swift as thought a revolver slipped from his belt, one finger pressing the trigger back as his thumb raised the hammer to deaden the sharp.click which otherwise might have betrayed his presence to the new- comer, 3 A slender, frail-looking figure in rough min- ing clothes came rapidly.up the valley, and only paused when within arm’s-length of. the windlass. He cast a swift glanee around him, and as he faced the rising moon, the hidden man saw that bis entire face was covered with a colored silk handkerchief, through which two small holes had been cut to leave him the use of his eyes. Only that one glance, then the stranger caught hold of the rope which ye es twice around the drum of the windlass, feet rest- ing in the loop with which the only visible end was furnished. The other hung down the shaft, and grasping it with his hands the adventurer was enabled to regulate his descent with ease. The watcher stole silently forward as the other vanished m his.view, and 1 low along the dank clay with which the mouth of the shaft was surrounded, listened intently. He was not kept long in suspense, The bolder adventurer descended only @ few yards when his further so was. ked though the loose end o become entangled, or else by a strong d. And then from the intense gloom below ere came a voice, ae and menacing: ‘Hold! Make a motion, even to the stirri of a finger; before I give you permission, an you’readead man!” , *~ Of the twain w is wea) sinewy, sun-embrowned hand showed white in the moonlight. The other gave no start, made nosound of rise or alarm. Ina shrill, peculiar tone, he se You hold the age, boss! I ain't an no say- so on ou or sling our c . Lain’t no gtent fash, anyhow. : _ty 3@ ears caught this stern salutation, the spy abc e seemed t y | ee | ! oe Rrcoas h lt lay. 4 te that his the rope had suddenly — ——— Al ‘““Who are you?, How came you-here?”’ ‘‘ A kind o’ excuse fer.a man, an’ 1 come-on my two legs.” ‘*This is no: farce,” sternly uttered the un- seen, cutting. the reckless little fellow short. “Tf you bave any right here at this time you know what answer to give. Ifyou give the wrong one, say your prayers in a hurry, for you’ll never see the light of day again.” ‘** Revolver Rob—” ‘* Enough!” cried the man below. one of the selected! Descend ‘in peace. rest must be along soon.” ‘‘Sort o’ fam’ly party, I reckon?” the little man said as he resumed his descent, in a few moments reaching the bottom. | ‘* Patience for a few minutes,” said the other, shortly. ‘* Your curiosity shall be fully satis- fied ere long, never fear.” As he spoke, the man was pulling upon the rope, sending the loop back up the shaft for the next comer. From his position the spy had overheard every word of this brief conversation, and his doubts were entirely set at rest. No sooner was the rope still than he grasped it and swung himself over the dark opening. — Like his predecessor, be was halted when half- way down, and in response to the challenge at once uttered the name of Revolver Robinson. Thrice more was this repeated, with nnim- portant variations, then the leading spirit se- cured the slack of the rope, without drawing the loop up to the surface, as though the circle was now complete. During it all not a word had been interchanged by those on the level. Grim and silent they stood, each in ignorance of what was about to transpire, only knowing that they were bere to gain sweet revenge on the one of all mankind whom they hated the most bitterly. “Gentlemen,” said the chief, after a brief ause, ‘‘our number is complete now, and un- ess there has been treachery at work, ali is in readiness to proceed at once to business. You have each one of you given the correct pass- word, and it seems hardly possible that there can have been any mistake mads. SBtill, the mali W6 are about to league ourselves against is no common adversary. Cunning plots have been laid against his life more times than I care to enumerate, only to fail disastrously. This time there must be no false move. We are pit- ting our lives against his, and if we are to come off victorious, we must neglect no precautions at the outset. ‘‘T alone know each and every member of this league, and. there is no necessity for that knowledge becoming universal at present. If such a necessity should ever arise, 1 will make you known to each other. ‘To make sure that all is on the square, I am about to strike a light. .You can hide your faces from each other if you think best. I can recognize my men by other means.” After a brief pause; during which the sense of hearing told them one and-all that this sug- gestion was being acted upon, the chief opened the slide of a dark lantern, throwing the clear light full upon each one of the five men in turn, eying them keenly. Each faee was hidden from view, for the most part by bandkerchiefs, but he appeared satisfied with the view he ob- tained. No less keenly and far more curiously did the five men thus strangely convened together eye the man who had summoned them to this lone- ly rendezvous, but with scant satisfaction. Not a ray of light was suffered to fall i bis - son, and they could only see that he was tall, strongly-built, wearing a long cloak and a slouched hat of soft felt. Seemingly satisfied with his scrutiny, the chief closed his lantern, casting al] into dark- ness the most intense. “You are the men whom I summoned to this meeting, and now we can pr to business without any further delay. As the first step, and to avoid all need of speaking names, you will please range yourselves in line, against the wall, opposite where I now stand.” This was quickly done, for one and all of the men were eager to learn the views of this mys- terious friend, who had promised them ven- geance upon the being whom they dreaded al- most as entirely as they hated bim. ** You are The ‘Good enough. Let the man who stands on right end speak first. Why are you here nick > ’se you left or sent word fer me to come,” was the short response, in the voice of the man who had played the spy while the braver or more reckless miner descended, . use venge which your heart thirsteth for—exactly, Who killed your brother?” “The imp o’ Satan which men call Revolver Rob!” was the fierce, grating response. * How long ago did that happen?” ‘* Goin’ on three years—” ‘ Yet Revolver Robinson is still living! Why have you not avenged your brother before this? xplain. “We want no cowards in our league.” A short, hard laugh greeted this stern speech. ** Mebbe I be a coward, as you insimivate, but boss or no boss, you don’t want to speak them I promised to ba br to the re- Revolver Rob, the Red-Handed. LS I a _ Co ie hey em cm Sess aaa oe a — -_———— words when I kin sée who an’ whar to strike. Fer this once, let it pass, “ Why hain’t I tuck revenge fer Dandy? Be. ca’se I've jest found out the man as killed him. Fer this three year, ve bin huntin’ the wide world over fer a man named Black Jack. Cope- fandy femshat was the handlé be went by when my brother was rubbed out, Nobody eouldn’t tell me. nothin’ more ’bout if then that. Hoe wasn’t in town but a week or 80, an’ he went by that Mame. He killed Dandy, an’ then disap- eared as ef the airth hed opened an’ Swallered im up. How was I to know that he Was in disguise—that hissha’r an’ face all was colored so dark, an’ that by right she was sandy-ha’red an’ light complected? “Twas less than a week ago that I struck the right trail, an’ no longer then yest’day that [ fust set eyes onto my game. He was with his crowd, then, an’ though I mought ’a’ killed him. they would ’a’ chawed me up at a moutbful the next minnit.. He didn’t know mé, $0 I could a’ford to wait a better chaince,” ““T retract my words, Forget that they were ever spoken. You shall have your revenge, and that right speedily, but the crimes of Revolver Robinson have been too many and too black for him to die a speedy and painless death. He must suffer as he has made so many others suf- fer, before the noose of the hangman claims its reward.” “Td rather let out his life with my own hand!” ‘We will settle all that in good time. If, when you are in possession of my plans in all their details, the prospect does not satisfy you, then some of ‘the rest of the league can take their turn. For the present you have said enongb. for our purposes there is no need of speaking names. You will be known as Number One. Be silent.while we.bear what Number.Two has to say—the man who stands next to you.” ‘won't take ye long,” ¢>me the Shrill, pecu- liar tones of the little man. ‘: War an’ war to the knife—the knife to the hilt—ag’inst Revol- ver Rob!” ‘“You have good cause to hate him, our mutual enemy, that I well know, else you would not be among us this night,” said the chief, quickly, as the little man paused. ‘“‘ But that the others may see that your stake is at Jeast as great as theirs, tell us briefly what charge you can bring against that demon.” ‘* Mebbe it’s a mighty little thing to kick up a row about, or to hold a bitter grudge ag’inst amanfer, Some 0’ you'll think [’m lackin’ in the upper-story, but all the same, \it’s the natur’ o’ the beast.” “‘Tf any comments are needed, we can make them,” shortly interposed the ebief. ‘‘ Tell your ae wake your charges in asfewewords as possible,” ‘Four years ago, I_knowed a man who hed a cosy home, a lovin’ wife; a good business an’ a snug pile .o’ money laid up in bank ag’iust a rainy day. Besides thishe hed what he could ‘a’ swore Wasa true and tried fri’nd, one more like a brother then the comparative stranger which he raaly was. “It’d take too much time to tell all how if come about, but the eend o’ the story kin be told in one mouthfal. The fool-critter went off on a business pet, * leavin’ his wife an’ his tri nd to take keer o’ his*a’fa’rs to home. An’ they done it so well that when he come home, thar warn’t a ba’r nur hide o’ the hull thing left—all gone: goods, money, fri’nd, an’ with that.fri’nd his wife went too! ‘*Good riddunmce, I reckon some 0’ you're thinkin’, but as I told ye at the start, this man wasn’t much more’n hafe.baked, an’ he made a heap more fuss over the loss o’ the woman- critter then all the rest putt together. It knocked him flat o’ his back, an’ when he come back to his senses ag’in, the trail was so cold that do his best he couldn’t pick it up. ‘Bit by bit he had his eyes opened, an’ the kind neighbors told him “what they said a blind man could ’a’ see’d all along: that the man he treated as a fri’nd ail along hed bin the blackest sorto’ inemy. You kin guess what it was they tuck se¢h pleasure in telin’ him. It turned him from a soft-hearted fool to a devil with but one aim in life—to tind an’ kill the twe~bein’s as hed bin all-in-all to him afore that black an’ bitter day. ‘*Fer three good years he hunted, an’ then stumbled onto the trail jest by a chaince. Ho found the woman, but ie was dyin’ o’ starva- tion an’ the hard usage a woman o’ the town must expect when she gits nigh the foot 0’ the down-grade, “He hed swore to kill her on sight, but thar was a soft spot left in bis heart, after all, an’ the sight o’ that dyin’ wretch tetched it, I reckon; anyway, he listened to the story she ‘hed to tell him. ‘‘'You kim easy guess what that story was. Men don’t run away with other fellers’ wives to stick to em fer life. Damaged gone like that ain’t valied very high, when the fust bloom is brushed off, an’so she was left in a strange city to shift fer herself, sick, without money or friinds. It was either starve or take another step along the down-grade, an’ it come easiest to go dewn bill.” CEOYPAICEl eee) <S,(Elo)