Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 22 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

rifle-range of 10 emotions Natlhalia shared the simple fare of Owen, in the midst of his strange, fantastic, lake- girt kingdom. She thought of many things; ow could she help it? The yery novelty of her situntion was calculated to awaken reflection. Her childhood, her loneliness, her varied life, hér blunted affections, the Ten Miles ‘Trace, the miner’s hut, with its experiences, Ralph Quim- by, his unwelcome add wee! aud every- | line, some’at. We've had skrimmages with both thing connected with him, drifted through her | Ingins and Mexicans that would make your hair mind. Above a)}, a lurking fear that she would | bristle to hear of.” be sought for and discovered. haunted her. “You may have been, for aught I know or Encouraged by Owen, she tried to do justice (care, a horse-thief or birder marauder!” retorts to hie hospitalitv. He appeared to her the visi |ed Ross. ‘That, however, has nothing to do ble hand of a friendly Providence. How often | with our present purpose. If I understand you, she paused to look at Lith and his whimsical and yon wish me to fall back to yonder tree, face novel surroundings. She dreamed that night of | you, count three, and fire ?” King Owen and his subjects. “That's it exactly!” growled Stratton. ere “ But what guaranty shall I have that you , CHAPTER IX. will not treaclierously fire upon me the moment A MEETING IN TRE WOODS. my back is turned ?” Tt will be remembered that Nat Stratton left} “Oh! you think I’m an Ingin, don’t ye? Ralph Quimby under the influence of tlie darker | Aren’t you afraid I'll skulp ye, too ?” and moreé vindictive passions of his nature. Jeal-| “ Why not fall back yourself, then ?” ousy fankjed in his heart, and hatred came asits| “Because that would throw me too much into natural result. Young Ross was now the particu-|the shade; and rascal as you be, I want to give lar object of his resentment. The dire purpose |ye fair play. I fight fair, J do. What kind of _that he had formed, and avowed to Ralpb, grew/a mark slionld I. make, in there, where the stronger, ind shaped itself in more distinct out- | shadows of them tall trees would fall on me like lines as he hurried on. clouds »” A doe hounded across his path, stopping with} “You would make a bad mark in there, to be “the curiosity peculiar to its kind, within easy | gure; so I'll trust you. My sense of hearing is tratton. He leveled his weapon | particularly good—I can hear the click of a to bring it down, when a well-direeted shot from | rjfle-lock as far as another. But stop! there's another hand Jaid the poor creature low, The/a better way—l’ll walk backward.” amoke of the discharge showed him in what di-| “ Ay! that’s your natur’! Them as likes to rection to look for the successful hunter. Cast-} sneak and pry into what isn’t none o’ their busi- ing a sullen snd hasty glance to that quarter, | ness, and mistrust others of what they never he saw Bernard Ross reloading his rifle. The/thought of, allers take good care of their pre- sight gave him a thrill of exultation. Before | cious bodies,” replied the miner, with ill eonceal- ~ him‘was the object of his burning jealousy—his | ed chagrin. rival—the man whom Ralph had assured him| TJ can see, at least, a part of your purpose,” stood between him and Nathalia. The discovery, | rejoined Bernard, cocking his rifle. ‘‘ You would then and there, in such a frame of mind, affected fasten a deadly narrel upon me and take me at an advantage, if possible. I am here without a him much. A strange tremor shook his nerves. He dared not imme:tiately attempt the coward- | friend; you may have a dozen within call, for aught I know.” ly act he meditated ; his shaking hands might | “Why do you cock your rifle®” cried the send the leaden messenger wide of its human mark. Besides, he now perceived that it was | miner, in alarm, partially screening himself be- hind a tree. not so easy a thing to rob a fellow-creature of : “T’ye observed,’ answered Bernard, “that life in the manner he had contemplated. He wanted an excuse, however flimsy. A quarrel | your weapon has been cocked during the whole would afford him a pretext! The thought he | of this altercation. What is fair for you, is fair regarded a happy one, and the doe would fur-| for me. Don't terrify yourself unnecessarily. nish the desired provocation. .. | The only favor that I ask is, the strict observ- By this time Bernard had observed’ him. | ange of the conditions you have proposed.” Stratton strode toward the deer; it was quite] Bernard,Ross began to fall back, slowly and dead, although the warm blood was still flowing cautiously, to the designated distance. The from the wound. round was rough, and Caine obliged to divide _ “Flow dare you,” he cried, “ meddle with | his attention between Stratton be his footing, gam started by me!” his progress was attended with no little difficulty. “T was not aware,” answered Bernard, @p-| But a few yards were between him and the tree, proaching, “that T had dene so.” | when his heel tripped upon a root; he fell, and “Tt is ‘alse !” retorted tle miner, insolently. | his rifle was discharged in his descent. You saw’ mie slow-trackin’ the animal; you) «Foul play! foul play!” shouted the miner, saw me raise my rifle to fire; and I've a mind | gang springing forward, took deliberate aim at to chastise ye for your interference.” Bernard. [lis finger was on the trigger, when Before’ proveeding to that extremity, J shall’ his rifle was suddenly struck up, and a rough have to be evisulted,” replied Bernard, calmly. | hand grasped him by the arm. The weapon was “T ‘recognize’ you perfectly. “The scene in| Rochacadl but the bullet went whistling through Quimby’s hut. cat never pass from my memory. | the tops of the trees. I shall not soon forget your murderous coun-| « T jig ig the way ye do things down by the big tenance’ when you approached me with the | Jakes, isit? You're an old catamount—ain't ye ?” minershammer. It would have been better for | [¢ was Kid Kerly, the mountaineer, who spoke, soeicty lind my aim been truer.” » | “T wish I's hung ry, ldo!” “| know,” returned Stratton, working limself| «Tet me alone i said Stratton, endeavoring more atid more ilito a passion, * that this is not | t> shake off Kerly. “This a'n't none o’ your thie firstoffence.” You tried to Kill me at Quim- | eoneerns, | reckon. It's a fair duel, though he by’s cabin, while T was carelessly ey you with | red firat.” the sledge in my hand. I'mglad-you putmein| «« Yeg; I seed him when he fired! "Twas.a mind on’t. Your bullet come within an ace of’ pooty aim—wasn't it? Do folks giner'ly tumble woundin' tiie vreat arteries of t!'é neck ; in which | ) pn when they shoot, hereabouts ? ease I should bled to death ina few minutes. | gustom up in the mountains! Wah!” | We're aloiie; tow, equally armed, and the ming “Tie fired afore the word,” persisted the nrin- ean le settled. © All you've got to do is, to wal er, doggedly, “and my shot. was fairly due. I ' «‘€ to yonder tree, turn round, put your back give sich treacherous fellows their own. That's *n it. Ce ant three, and eommence firin’.” my way!” *“«T'm not afraid of the duel,* answered Ber “ And # confounded bad way ‘tis!” retorted nard, “which urved upon me with sufficient the mountaineer. “You. never trapped, and provocation, and” b titles hin to satisfaction.’ Tednfess I ean see |] allow not! | no reason why I should meet a Villain on equal | “Keep your hands off, mister!” muttered ground and terms.” » | Stratton, Neenal = “T knowed pretty well what you'd say!” «yf you want to fight, -‘eneered the miner, with a menacing scowl. “A ghawed up a feller-bein’ for nigh on to three chap who'd shoot’me onawares, or steal My weeks, I’m gittin’ right miser'ble and out 0’ game from under My ey?s, won't, in the course ‘gorts, Tackle this old hoss, won't ye?” of natur’, stand up ami take shot for shot, like) “J'yg no quarrel with you, Kid Kerly, and I sman alia a | won't fight ye. I'd rather fight a grizz “Althongh you are an assassin and a ruffian, | or a wounded buff’ler, than have anything to I feel ‘in the mood of giving you the’ pastime! dy with a Camanche from the mountains,” a good.shot ; I'm as sure to hit you, at the dis- tance you have indicated, as I am that you de- serve to be hit.” ‘‘ You can’t scare me! Nat Stratton has seen too much of rough-and-tumble life to. be wilted down by a few highfalutin’ threats. We miners are hard boys. We haven’t been miners al- try me. I haven't youdemand, I warn you beforehand, that I @m | gnswered the miner. with less bravado. The New York Library. e ways; we've been in the huntin’ an’ trappin’ | isn’t the | one ‘wliosé ‘character en- | starved, fought Ingins, and lifted ha’r—did ye? | y | | Ce —_——— 2 | -— bawe wtternenen he ee Fe ee oo “ What shall I do with this critter, youngater ?” asked Kerly, turning to Bernard, who had ap- proached, and was loading his rifle. | “If you could hand him over to the civil Jaw, you would do the world a favor; but as that cannot be, we shall have to trust the fellow’e punishment to Providence.” . “Not altogether! I shall help Providence a litte. Wah!” With this short preface, the mountaineer seiz- ed the miner with both hands, raised him near- ly as high as k*s head, and dashed him upon the ground, where he lay stunned some moments. “That's mountain manners!”. said Kerly. “Sarved Ralph Quimby so t’other night. It ives a mighty shock to the systum; but it’s Better for some than a ’lectric battery.’ Git up, you runagade |” The mountaineer gave the prostrate man a push with his foot, who recovered his feet very slowly indeed. His swarthy features had grown strangely white. Bernard read a deep and deadly mtensity in his eyes. He did not threaten, fume, and work himself into a heat; but stood quietly looking at Kerly and Ross. He even smiled ; but it was not a pleasant smile to see. ‘Have you done ?” he asked, in a low voice. “ Have you any further busivess with Nat Strat- ton?” His tone and munner jarred on the nerves ol Bernard. “Wah!” said Kid Kerly. | ‘“T hope we may never meet again,” observed Bernard. | The miner laughed ironically—fit ac¢compani- ment for his smile and voice... “ You'd better go!” added the mountaineer, who was now really losing temper. “I can kill game or an inemy, in self-defence, as well’s an- other; but I don’t keer to have anything worse nor that on my mind.” | “T'm goin’!” replied the miner, huskily. “I never remember things—I don’t. No,no! Ha, ha! Sartinly not. That's my way!” — He took his rifle from the ground where it had fullen, threw another startling look at Bernard and the mountaineer, and turning deliberately, vanished in the intricacies of the forest. “There's an inemy for ye!” remarked Kerly, coolly. “ A Sicux or a Rapaho on your trail, would be a beauty to him! the critter’s eye, or I'm no judge o’ natur’.” “T never saw a worse countenance, [lis glance really chilled me,” replied Bernard, thought- fully and uneasily. , “ He'll do more nor ebill ye,” said the moun- taineer, brushing back his shaggy Jocks ; “ he’lJ Kull ye !” There was something peculiarly impressive in the manner in which these simple words were uttered; they had their effect upon the young man. He wiped cold drops of perspiration frv.u his brow. ats ry “How long you been here?” asked Kerly abruptly. | “In this particular part of the country, afew weeks.” “How many inemies have you made in that time ?” The mountaineer drew some of the weed from his pouch and buried it in his mouth. “ Four, at least,” replied Ross. “If you make four inemies in a few weeks, how many ’ll you make in a good many weeks ? You'd better go home, young man.” Kerly gave his jaws a rotury motion and crushed the tobacco into a pulp. , . , Not for a world!’ exeluimed Bernard, earn- estly. he mountaineer peered inquisitively into his face, crushing the innocent leaf all the while. “ Copper-mines ?” Bernard shook his head “No, “Gal?” The blood rushed to Bernard’s cheeks. “Trapped !” exclaimed the mountaineer. strik- ing his hand upon his bip. “Trapped like a oung beaver! ‘It's onsartin game you've start- ed, lad, and I wouldn't wonder if you beat about the bush a long time, and git nothin’ for your . t ains. I know who's done the mischief; I can tell the trail of love as well as the next man.” The trapper waited for Ross to answer; but he did not. . “ Never look so serious about it, man! It's an accident that happens to the best folis, some- oe She’s a pooty critter, with eyes like @ oe.’ “Who?” stammered Bernard, AGOMIERVCO There’s death in | ——*