Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 197 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

ee Revolver Rob, the Red-Handed. a a as ia $a «vas in town—I came from there only now— and aow to learn that each weary step was } i } — = “ Thanks for reminding me,” he said, coolly, turning and closing the door, slipping the heavy taking me further and further away from the | wooden bar in place. one man in all the world—but why should I trouble you with my sorrows? Forgive me, lady—I am not always so weak, but— e staggered and seemed on the point of fall- ing, when, with a little cry of alarm, Pet Flam- steed caught and supported him by one arm. “* You are ill—” With a faint laugh, the old man straightened up, though he still trembled in every limb. ‘‘Tt is nothing, dear lady. I am only weary and faint—no, why should I tell a lie, and to ono so kind and charitable as you? You can read the truth in my face, in my clothes. It is more from hunger than fatigue that be see me 60 weak, For three days I have not broken my fast— A pitying cry from Pet’s lips cut bim short, Gently, yet bravely, supporting his trembling weight, she led him to the chair she had lately occupied, saying: ‘Sit here, and I will bring you something— to be starving in the midst of plenaty—why, it is horrible!” He retained her hand and bent his head rey- erently over it until the gray beard touched the soft skin, and the tears camo into the dark eyes of the little woman as she felt a drop of mois- ture fall upon her fingers. “May kind Heaven reward you, dear lady, for your charity. If the prayers of a hardened sinner like me—” With a hot flush the woman interrupted his broken speech, ‘‘ No more, I pray you, or you will make me ashamed that Ican dono more, It is little at the best, but what there is you are more than welcome to,” “Tt is not much that I ask, dear lady,” he said, with a gentle meekness that warmed her kind heart still more toward the poor wayfarer. ‘‘ A crust of bread and a sip of cold water, with a few moments’ rest beneath your roof-tree, is all [ require; then I will be strong enough to travel further in quest of the one man in this wild region who knows that no fault of his own could have brought his old friend so low—a homeless, penniless beggar!” ‘That I am already sure of—but while I am talking you are starving,” and Pet Flamsteed glided into the house, from whence soon came the rattle of dishes and the grateful scent of strong coffee, In a wonderfully short space of time she re- turned and assisted the wayfarer to rise, beg- ging him to lean upon her shoulder, leading him to where the table was covered with an ample way 4! of food. Sinking into the chair provided for him, the old man extd his head, and, in feeble, broken tones, said grace, so pathetic and so full of gratitude to ber that the hot tears welled freely from the eyes of ths little woman, and she was ready to believe that she was really entertain- ing an angel in the guise of a ragged beggar. Though there was such a ravenous look in his eyes behind the colored glasses which he wore, the old man seemed ashamed to give free rein to his appetite, and, pelle se that her presence his powerful arms were wrapped ) embarrassed him, Pet made an excuse which carried her into the kitchen, leaving him alone, Not for long. Five minutes later that feeble voice was heard calling her, and she hastened back to find—not the feeble old beggar whom she had left, bus a man whose face extorted from her a cry of angry horror. “ Merciful heavens! You here!” A low, taunting laugh broke from the lips of the rascal who had so cunningly deceived her— a laugh that sent the hot blood back to her heart, leaving her beautiful face as white as that of a corpse. ‘* Ay! Florence—or Mrs, Martin Luther Wes- Acry, more of anger than of alarm, broke from her lips, and with a swift leap, she caught up a revolyer which lay on a stand in the cor- ner of the room, cocking and covering the ras- cal with the weapon, almost before he could divine her purpose. ‘‘ Open that door and leave this house, or I’ll shoot you like the cowardly hound you really are!” she cried, and he could see by her flash- ing eyes and stern face that this was no idle threat, Instinctively he cowered before her aim, showing his white teeth and snarling like a cornered wolf, rage and fear equally blended in his pale face. *“* Be careful!” his treacherous mind aright. the crushed and feeble girl whom you knew in warningly cried Pet, reading | escape.” | | the black days gone by. All earthly friends | save one failed me then, in my time of need, | ety who shrunk away with an involuntary and I have not forgotten the lesson those times taught me. Ican take my own part now—as you will learn if you attempt what is in your evil mind. Quick as you are, a bullet is still swifter, and 1 can strike a bird on the wing—” He checked her excited speech with a depre- 'ecatory gesture of his hand. | ‘Do not shoot—hear what I have to say—” ‘‘ Not a word!” was the stern reply. ‘*‘ There is the door. Remove that bar and leave before I count ten, or true as there is a Heaven above us, I will send a bullet through your vile heart —liar, traitor, coward!” ‘*Some day you wiil be sorry for this, my lady,” the cornered rascal muttered, showing his teeth, but slowly edging toward the door in obedience to her stern commands. “ Better let me tell my story now, with only your ears to listen, than for me to proclaim it elsewhere, with a hundred tongues to take it up as a de- licious morsel—” ‘Stop! Not another word! Leave this house before I can count ten, or you will never leave it save as a dead man!” “Don’t shoot, and Ill Bo. he growled, sul- lenly, with one hand fum ling at the bar, but with his eyes still watching her, as though in hopes of her relenting. ‘‘ But you'll be sorry for refusing to let me have my say out—” So far he spoke, then, instead of removing the bar, he crouched low down and made a sidelong cay yh the little woman, evident- ly trusting to taking her by surprise, But Pet Flansteed had not boasted in saying that she knew well how to use the weapon she held, and swift as were his movemeats, the re- ; ' ' | ’ volver followed him, and the hammer fell. But no report followed. The cartridge failed to explode, and before she could cock the wea- pon again, the exultant villain hud covered the space between them, and wrested the pisiol from her grasp. ‘*Now you little spit-fire,” he cried, with a satanic laugh, ‘‘it is my turn, and [ll not come down any easier on you for the precious fright you gave me just now!” Desperately she struggled, but all in vain, for around her form, pressing her to his breast with a savage gripe against which she was helpless. “Time was when you were quite content to lie in my arms without near so much kicking _and squirming, little one,” he said, coarsely, at the same time running his hand over her per- son to satisfy himself that she possessed no other weapon which might endanger his life. ‘Come, now, be reasonable. You have had your innings. It is my turn now. I have waited for this hour for years, and now that I have fairly run my game to earth, you may be sure that I shall not run any unnecessary risks.” ley, if you prefer the old title—lam here, [, Jasper Quigley, the man whom you threw over when a richer match offered itself—the man who, when the clouds lowered, perjured his soul to save you from the scaffold, foolishly fancying that you would at last reward his devotion as it de- served—the same whom you deserted for the second time, without word of thanks for all that he had endured and dared for you!” There was no trace of old age nor deerepitude in his voice or figure now. The wig and full beard of false hair lay upon the fable, the wrinkles which bad so deeply lined his face were wiped away, the mass of dirty rags lay on the floor, and the pretended beggar stood be- fore the astounded and half-stupefied woman, talland straight, his smooth shorn face hand- some with a sort of satanic beauty, his brilliant eyes aglow with a fire that almost curdled the blood in her veins. For a brief space Pet Flamsteed—as she chose to call herself, though this scoundrel had iven her a different name—stood like one rozen with horror at the totally unexpected vision from the past, but there was good blood in her veins, and her courage returned with the emergency. ‘‘Whatever we may have been in the past, we are strangers now. Jasper Quigley,” she cried, her voice resolute, her eyes flashing an- grily. ‘‘ There is the door—” / ' and ‘* Unhand me, villain—coward—” ‘* Tf hard words could kill, I would have been dust long since, lit-le one,” he said, laughing softly, but with little mirthin his tones. ‘‘ Be sure I have not yet forgotten the old days when you cursed me up hill and down for the ruin of your life, as you chose to term it—” As though stung sbarply by these words, Pet renewed her desperate ef‘orts to release herself, eat as was his strength, Jasper Quigley found that he needed it all for those first few 'minutes. But then the poor girl yielded, almost | fainting, utterly worn out by that superhuman struggle to escape from the cruel toils.” er Quigley drew along breath of relief at this welcome respite, and there was hot anger in his tones as he said: ; ‘‘Try and be sensible for alittle while. I have come here for a good long talk, and I mean that you shall listen to me clear through, even if I have to tie you up hand and foot, and | gag you into the bargain. Which shall it be? | remember what a devil he could you listen quietly, or shall I serve you like a refractory child?” His speech gave Pet time to reflect, and she made good use of the opportunity. She knew that she was helplessly in the power of this scoundrel, as long as he chose to use force, and she knew enough of him in the rare gone by to when thor- oughly angered, and that he would not hesitate = ” SEE EE EE EEE —————————_—_—_————————————————————————————— a 5 a moment in putting his threat into execution should she prove obstinate. Though, since the reign of Dashing Dell began in Nugget Camp, the callers at the Flamsteed ranch were few and far between, there was a remote hope that some one might chance that way and rescue her from this arch villain, and as the best she could do for the present, Pet resolved to temporize. ‘‘Set me free. I will listen, since there is no CHAPTER IV. JASPER QUIGLEY RECALLS THE PAST. ‘*Now you are talking like a sensible little girl I used to know in the old days,” said Jasper Quigley, relaxing his grasp and suffering his almost paraly victim to sink into the chair beside the table. ‘‘ Continue in that mood, and “T am no longer | we will get along famously.” While speaking, he drew another chair for- ward and seated himself close before Pet Flam- shudder of disgust and fear. His dark brows contracted as be noticed this, and be showed his teeth in a wolfish smile that chilled the blood in her veins. ‘‘One would think I was the ghost of your murdered husband, from the manner in which you regard me now, and the way you took on when I first unmasked myself,” he sneered. ‘‘ Not that,” cried Pet, with a sudden return of courage. ‘‘ Not that, but I was amazed at your audacity in daring to enter my presence after your base treachery of the past— “True love is ever audacious, little one,” he retorted, with a sneering laugh, cutting her sentence short. ‘‘ As for my baving played the traitor, had I not done so, when the shadow of the scaffold lay across D3 path, the cruel ro of the hangman would long ago have done its dread work, and we would not now be holding this pleasant conversation.” For a moment Pet Flamsteed gazed at him, with flashing eyes and flushing cheeks, then her lip curled with utter scorn. ‘* Now, as then, your every word is a lie, base and black as your own cowardly heart, Jasper Quigley! My life was never in peril save when you gave your lying testimony—” ‘* Else I should not have perjured myself,” was the cool interruption. ‘‘ Ay!” headded, with an increase of fervor as he bent forward in his chair until Pet Flamsteed leaned far back to avoid his rapidly aetepe cen | hands. “Ay! I did commit perjury—I stained my soul with lie upon lie, for I knew that nothing less could save our life, and I was just insane enough then to elieve that you would, be ‘thankful for the sacrifice Imade. I fondly ad 2h to my breast the hope that the black gulf which lay between us would be bridged over, and that together we would forget that such clouds had ever gathered above our heads—” He stopped short and settled back in his chair, the purple flush fading out of his face, a mock- ing light taking the place of the almost insane glare with which his eyes had been filled. For a brief space he was silent, and when he spoke again, if was with the old sneer which cut far pane keenly than ecdéuld the hottest of angry words. “Bah! We are toth old enough not to grow excited over trifles, yet the mere sight of your baby face sets my blood almost boiling, while I warrant your heart is fluttering like that of a silly maiden in receipt of her first love-letter.” “Say what you have to say, then leave me!” said Pet Flamsteed, her voice sounding strained and unnatural in her own ears. A mocking laugh broke from the lips of the scoundrel. “He saw that she was suffering the most exquisite torture, and he determined to prolong if to the uttermost, to make her drain the cup even to the last bitter dregs. “There if time enough, little one. We have the whole night before us. There is no one about the house to interrupt us, and the worthy colonel,” putting a sneering emphasis on the title, “‘is ere this deep in the mysteries of dra Woe blissfully ignorant of the fact that one of his old and true friends is here, longing for his coming—” “Tf you thought there was the slightest dan- ger of that, you would be skulking away like some thieving wolf,” indignantly Pet Flamsteed, her eyes aglow. ““The old rascal does strike swift and hard for a drunkard,” said Jasper Quigley, with 2 short laugh, though the hot flush upon his oo ge cheek told that the taunt had struck ome. At that insulting epithet, apple to the onl man on earth whom she loved, Pet Flams forgot the peril which threatened herself, and sprung from her chair, reaching out to grasp a pistol which hung against the wall; but once more the great agility of that unscrupulous scoun- drel foiled her hopes. | His eye caught the weapon, and ere she could touch it, he sped and flung it out through the open window, then his sinewy hands closed upon her shoulders and forced her back into the chair. _ “No more such nonsense, little one,” be cried, warningly, an ugly light filling his dark eyes, GOMmichoo (C ‘Ss (E(©)