Beadle's Dime Library No. 204 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

ee ee Big Foot Wallace. — ere ee eC —— = — 15 colonel pointed directly past the motte, which was not a quarter of an acre in extent; and, as ‘‘ The first man who pulls trigger dies on the spot! This girl brings gold to our band, Jim the animal reached the further extremity of | ought to have known better than ride up to the same, it suddenly threw up its head with a snort of alarm, at the same time springing away from the dense shadows. But too late did the beast scent danger; for, at this moment a lasso hissed through the air, | the wagon in that manner; and if Antone couldn’t evade the shot of a woman, he was out of place in this crowd!” Sullenly the men lowered their weapons, and gazed with vengeful looks toward the fair girl the noose of which fell quickly over the head who stood over the senseless form of her father, and shoulders of Colonel Bowen, binding his | with her pistols still leveled, and desperate arms to his side as in a vise; while, at the | daring shown in the poise of her form and the glance of her eye. same instant, his horse sprung in frantic bounds toward the open plain, the movement jerking the old man violently to the earth. As the colonel struck the sward, a ruffianly looking Mexican, with an exultant expression upon his ugly yellow face, sprung from the un- dergrowth directly astride of the prostrate man, whose breath had been knocked from his body by the terrible fall. As Colonel Bowen struck the earth, and the | Near the wagons were the terrified negroes upon their knees, praying with quivering lips, all except Rosa, the quadroon, who still remained in the Dearborn. ** Wait a minute, boys! I'll square this thing with you to your satisfaction. This girl is my game; remember that! and I'll have the heart’s blood of the man who dares to raise a weapon against her. Capitan Caramba makes no Mexican sprung like a panther upon him, the | threat that he can’t back up. You ail know sharp reports of rifles broke from the dark shades, and both the negro drivers fell dead that, I hope, by this time!’ Turning on his horse the bandit chief now from their seats beneath the wheels; while | faced Belle Bowen, who with pallid face, but other Mexicans sprung to the heads of the | firm mien, gazed into bis dark evil eyes with- horses and mules, grasping the bridles, and | out flinching. checking the frantic animals, The report of firearms awakened the other The outlaw band were now filled with wonder, for it suddenly dawned upon them slaves, and also Belle; the former filling the | that their chief had exposed himself, by having air with their screams of terror, the latter turned his back upon the determined girl, and grasping her rifle, and gazing in fear and hor- | she had not fired upon him, for they knew, ror from the Dearborn. Now, out from the motte dashed half-a-dozen horsemen and half-a‘score more Mexicans, these last on foot, the mounted men being whites, but with villainous and brutal faces which were stamped with exultant satisfac- tion, as they spurred their horses up to the wagons. “Jerk them niggers down, and choke the squall out of them! Unhitch the mules, and throw off the harness! Work lively there! Jim, see if our beauty is there.” Thus spoke one who appeared to be the leader of the bandit horde, who, although but a young man, showed in his face the marks of dissipa- tion and a life of recklessness, He was attired in a fancifully decorated ¢Hs- tume of buckskin, consisting of the inevitable breeches and jaqueta of the Rio Grande; and his sombrero, as well as his revolvers, belt, and bowie bilt, were richly ornamented with gold filagree work. His hair was long, and black as midnight, as were his eyes, that now gleamed with a murderous light, though he had not drawn a weapon. The map whom he designated as Jim, spurred his horse to the rear of the Dearborn, and looked within it. It was only for a flitting instant that he had the power of sight; but, in that instant, be saw a young and beautiful girl, standing erect, braced for defense, her rifle cocked and clasped tightly to her shoulder, the muzzle of the weapon within a foot of his head! He stood, without the power of motion, his features became of an ashen hue, the next there came a blinding flash and a far-sounding report, and the outlaw, without a sound pass- ing his lips, fell forward over his saddle-horn with a bullet through his brain, his horse bounding with a snort toward the open plain, as its rider fell upon the prairie sward. As the report of the rifle burst upon the ears of the bandits, and the horse dashed away, they all gazed in surprise toward the Dear- born, only to be doubly amazed at seeing a young girl leap from the wagon, and with a cocked revolver in each band, dash between them and the motte, her eyes filled with des- peration, her weapons pointed toward the ruffian horde. Up to the prostrate form of her father ran Belle Bowen, and before the bandits had recovered from their surprise, another sharp report rung out. Then they saw their com- rade, the Mexican who bestrode Colonel Bowen, stagger to his feet and beat the air with his hands like a blind man groping his way; then the blood burst from his mouth and nostrils, and he too fell a corpse. Then Belle sprung to the opposite side of her prostrate father, turned and faced the outlaws, with revolvers presented, and her fingers on the triggers, All this happened in a moment's time. The next, a score of weapons were leveled at the daring and desperate girl; but darting like an arrow from the bow, the bandit chief spurred his horse between Belle Bowen and his lawless crew, at the same time bis revolvers flashing in the moonlight, as he yelled: from what they had witnessed of her skill, that she could have killed him instantly. As Capitan Caramba whirled his steed, he politely touched his sombrero, and exclaimed: ‘*How-dy, Belle Bowen? Allow me to ex- press my admiration for your beauty, bravery and skill, and torequest you to lower those rather dangerous weapons.” As her name fell from the bandits lips, the girl started in astonishment; but she lowered her revolvers, and looked fearlessly into his face, while she demanded in a clear calm voice: ‘‘' Who are you, that dare speak my name in so familiar a manner? Who are you, whom I find in command of a horde of cowardly bandits, murderers of innocent, unarmed negroes? Who are you, who so cutrageously assault a gray-haired man who never harmed you? Answer me—who are you?” “Capitan Caramba, at your service, my brave beauty!’’ answered the outlaw chie?, in a polite tone. “‘T have heard of your dastard deeds,” she said. ‘* You are infamously famous; but I cannot think you as bad as those whom you command. I should have shot you in the back just now, bad I not felt sure that my father, myself, and our servants would have all been murdered, bad I done so, You are a white man—a Texan, | judge—and, by some means unknown to me, you have gained a knowledge of our names and our route. Let me beg of you—let me pray you, not to harm my poor father, and to save us from those Mexicans!” “You shall not be harmed; but I must use some means to smooth over the effects of your rash shooting.” With these words, Capitan Caramba rode up to the Conestoga wagon. . “Here, Bud, hold my nag!” he ordered, as he slipped from his saddle. “Jump in this wagon, some of you, and throw everything out. There is a box of gold in there, if Iam not mistaken; and that must be divided, after we get to our camp.” At this intelligence, the eyes of the ruffian horde brightened, and they all sprung with a will to obey him. ‘* Put everything that is of use to us into the Dearborn, then throw the harness and all use- less articles back into the wagon. We will burn if when we leave. Jose, lead those horses this way.” The commands of the bandit chief were in- stantly obeyed, and the Dearborn was then drawn to the point where Belle and her father —the latter having recovered his senses—sat, side by side, on the sward, the young girl with her arms about the neck of the old man. As the wagon, with the outlaws approached, however, Belle sprung to her feet, and again grasped her revolvers. “Put up your weapons, or I'll not answer for your lives!” “Whe, in the fiend’s name, are you, sir bandit?’ demanded Colonel Bowen of the chief, as he spoke. “Never you mind who I am, but climb into that Dearborn lively, or some of these mild- mannered men of mine may take a notion to cut your throat.” ‘Do as he orders, father. It is our only al- ternative. Ifear we are doomed to death.” In her deep solicitude for her father, Belle neglected to watch the movements of the out- laws, and, at a motion from their chief, two Mexicans jerked the pistols from her hands, and bound hersecurely. Two others tied the hands of the colonel; and, this done, they were both lifted into the back of the Dearborn, neither of them daring to speak a word. ‘* Jose, take the reins, and start toward the camp. We will soon overtake you,” ordered the chief, and away went the affrighted steeds over the plain to the west. Three negroes and a young quadroon still crouched upon the plain, weeping and praying, and Capitan Caramba, seeing them, cried out, in a careless way: ““There’s a hole in that motte, boys. Throw Jim and Antone into it, and cover them up, Then you can do what you please with them niggers. I’m off! Follow on as soon as you set fire to the wagon.” Springing upon bis horse, Capitan Caramba spurred out over the plains toward the Dear- born in the distance; but he had not galloped a thousand yards, when his ears were filled with yells of agony, as the brutal Mexicans murdered the negroes. Then, from the motte arose shrieks, so full of horror, dread, and deathly terror, that even the outlaw chief clapped his hands over his ears. He turned in his saddle, and saw the wagon in flames. He knew that none of the blacks were alive, ex- cept the young quadroon, and that she was in the power of his merciless Mexican followers. He still heard her screams of agony, but the flames couJd not flash their light through the thick foliage of the motte, and reveal the fiend- ish, dastardly crime that was being perpe- trated. CHAPTER XIII. EL CAPITAN CARAMBA, WorDs cannot express the feelings of Colonel Bowen and his daughter, as they fully realized their desperate condition, after the excitement of the capture was over, and they lay bound in the Dearborn. They knew that their lives were in danger, for the murderous deeds of Capitan Caramba and his mongrel horde had been known to them long before they left their home on the Trinity. Little did they then think that they would ever be in the power of the merciless bandit, who, report said, was in league with that most notorious outlaw, Juan N. Cortina, the scourge of the Rio Grande. But that which puzzled them most of all, was the fact that their names and route were known to the bandit. However, this was partly explained to the mind of Belle, by the remembrance of what had been said to her by the Mexican that had been shot and then banged on the plaza in San Antonio. This man, who had no doubt merited his fate, terrible though it was, must have beena spy of Caramba’s, and not only that, but there were others in the Alamo City who were connected with him, As Belle thought of this, she suddenly re- called the features of one of the Mexicans she had observed at the motte. She had been im- pressed with the idea at the time that she had somewhere seen those swollen repulsive fea- tures, and she now recalled the face she had seen on the Rio Medina. It was all plain now. He was the man she had discovered crawling along the cow-path, and who soon afterward became engaged in a hand-to-hand conflict with some other man, whose face she had been unable to see. _ Both men had fallen into the river while in desperate fight. This Mexican, it was now evident, had been the victor, and had galloped - on to guide his comrades. Then came the question: who was the man with whom he had fought? If an enemy of the outlaws, and con- sequently friendly to her father, why did he not cry out and gain their aid? Next, she thought of the face she had seen, or dreamed that she had seen, among the foliage—the face of George Adler. How could it have been ble that George could be so near? It could not be. And if it were possible, he would not bave been in the company of a war-painted Indian. The mysteries of the night were be- yond solving. The horrors and crimes, how- ever, were standing out boldly and forcing her thoughts from every other subject. * eom ElNOO KS —_— ——— ee ma ee Gom. *