Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 22 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 The New York Library. seemed scarcely tu press the floor. She listen- ed, and when next she ‘looked at Ross, her fair face was the picture of dismay and distress. “You cannot go; they have fastened the door outside. I can hear the murmur of their voices, too.”’ She clasped her hands hopelessly. There was the rustle of a footstep at the door. ‘Lost! lost! Have you arms?” whispered the girl, with trembling eagerness, Ross threw back the breast of his coat, and showed the handle of a revolver. There was a bed in the room. Aftera painful pause of irres- olution and doubt, the girl directed her finger toward it. He hurriedly approached it, raised the covering which hung to the floor, looked un- der, saw the body of a man, motionless, with blood spots upon his garments. A natural feel- ing of awe crept through his nerves. He re- mained an instant, holding the quilt, with his eyes fastened upon the ghastly object. He turned to question the fair young creature who had made this revelation ; she had disappeared, and he heard hands undoing tlie outer door. He sprang back to his seat by the fire, and had scarcely composed himself to an indifferent at- titude, when Quimby and his companions re- turned, Bernard Ross was brave and inured to adven- ture. He had traveled in the West, and been brought into contact with all descriptions of poeple The vicissitudes of the backwoods, the angers of the border, and the contingencies of a wandering life. were not unknown to him. But, notwithstanding this, he would have given all he possessed to have been out in the storm and darkness, in the dreariest recesses of the Ten Miles Trace. He feigned to be absorbed in drying his drenched clothed, but did not fail to observe the countenances of the miners attentively, well persuaded that he could read a wicked purpose in each. They belonged to a class that is gel- dom found, save on the outer circle of civiliza- tion. They were characters who preferred to flit on the border, where law is lax and justice slow-footed. What cast this young and beautiful girl into such society ? The question perplexed Bernard Ross beyond measure. But that was not the point to be now decided , it was the thrilling matter of life and death. Ralph Quimby began to talk. He brought a glass of spirit from a+rrough closet, and offered it to Bernard, who courteously, but firmly refused it. This rejection of hospitality was not well received. Quimby frowned, and threw the spirit upon the stone-hearth, with a sneer. ‘Does the storm abate any ?” asked Ross. A crash that shook the hut as if it were an egg-shell, answered the question with sufficient clearness. The elemental Lattle was indeed ter- rific. The heavens s-emed about to fall and an- nihilate all below. A thousand flames of sheet- ed fire, darting and leaping in every direction, lighted up the forest with a horrible glare. Even the miners started to their feet in awe ; then, as if ashamed of their weakness, settled back again with a defiant laugh or muttered exclamation. ‘I’m sorry for this,” said Bernard, presently. “T hoped to be far from here before midnight.” He pretended to be looking at the fire, but was covertly watching Ralph, whose eyes met those of Nat Stratton with a meaning look. “ What have you got in your wallet, stran ger?” asked the latter. “ A few specimens of ore, which I will sho” you in the morning,” answered the young man, Quimby and Stratton nodded at each other. ‘““T think you must be tired, young man,” said the former, “so you can just throw yourself on that btd, and fi till this infernal racket is over. Border-men, like us, can rest as well on a floor as you inland people on & bed.”’ The yonng man’s thoughts flowed quickly. In a moment he made up his mind what to do. He took up his wallet, yawned, and replied : “ It’s too good an offer to reject. An hour or two's sleep will do me no harm.” He advanced to the bed, and saw the tip of a bloodless finger rotruding, and seeming to point atthe miners, rom beneath the trailing drapery. He placed the wallet on the floor at the head of the bed, and lay down in his clothes, on his right side, with his face to the fire. His eyes nearly closed, his right arm across his breast, so as to bring his hand near the pocket containing bis revolv- er, it was now his business to watch these men, to note their slightest movement, and to defend himself as best he could against a sud- den attack. He realized the precariousness, . . not to say horror of his position. gassin in each of those sun-browned, stolid | faces. He perceived that they were actu- ated by a strong motive. him if he had been to Copper Creek? Did they regard him in the light of an interloper, and an infringer upon their rights? An intu- itive flash streamed across his mind: perhaps these were the men who held the “ gold-secret”’ | Ae) » fs , - Tr . a. a of which he had heard, and were disposed to consider him a spy upon their actions, coming | there for the sole purpose of ferreting out their we hao discovery. Certain bags of gold, it a at some of the nearest border settlements. truth, there was little or no doubt that such had been the ease, and this fact had influenced the movements of Bernard Ross more than he would have been willing to acknowledge. These, perhaps, were the lawless men that held that terrible Shibboleth! A sickly sen- sation of despair fell upon the young man. To add to the silent terror of his situation, came the dread consciousness of that which was sleep- ing the last untroubled, eternal sleep beneath him. He recalled the still, rigid lineaments of the blood-smutehed face — the outstretched, nerveless proportions which, questionless, had been tenderly cherished by a mother, perhaps dearly loved by a sister, sweetheart, or wife. Intimately connected with these startling real- ities, was the beautiful girl, separated from him by a thin partition only. He was sure that he had her sympathy, whoever she was, or whatever strange linking together of circumstances brought her there. He knew that she was trembling, fluttering, fearing, agitated, despair- ing, for him; and it was some cc solation to feel, that if he died a violent death, **ere was one pure feminine soul who would know it, and possibly shed.tears over the catastrophe. The storm held its breath a little ; it moder- ated its fury ; the thunder rolled with a hollow, solemn murmur inthe distance. Ralph Quimby made a motion to Stratton—an affirmative mo tion with his head. The fire was burning low; the brands fell back upon the stone hearth, and their charred ends pointed up the wide flue of the chimney. Waves of light and darkness fluctuated through the miner's hut. Stratton slowly raised hie ttle figure erect. His darkly- lined’ face turned upon Bernard Ross with @ steady, inquisitive gaze. There was a ponder- ous stone hammer in a corner of the hut, Strat- ton glanced at it, then at the apparent sleeper. Bernard saw him steal toward the implement, ong he by the handle, hesitate, then approach e bed. The young man’s heart beat fast ; the crisis was at hand. The ruffian drew nearer and nearer; he stood, at length, beside the bed ; he upheaved the miner’s hammer— it was descending with ter- rible force. Bernard sprang back ; the blow fell on the meagre pillow. He drew his revolver ; he fired. The man dropped the sledge and fell backward upon the floor. These last decisive movements passed rapid- ly. The miners simultaneously leaped to their eet. Quimby drew a pistol, and the other two, knives. There was a moment of astonishment and indecision on the part of the ruffians. Ross sat upright in the bed, with his revolver point- ed. A ball from Quimby’s hee 9 grazed his shoulder. While the smoke curled through the room, the apparently dead man seemed galvan- ized into lite. started up from beneath the bed, and caught the sledge that had fallen from Strat- ton’s hands. The wildness of his appearance, his haggard eyes, his ghastly face streaked with blood, made the assassins recoil. The door of the other room was at that instant thrown open, and the beautiful girl that Bernard had seen, sprang in with a deprecating ery, and stood with uplifted hands between him and the miners. CHAPTER IL NATHALIA. Ralph Quimby was the first to act ; he seized a pail of water, and dashed it upon the fire. The hut became totally dark ; not an object was visible. “Back to your room, girl! back to your room! There's to be a fight here, and you'll be likely to get a pistol-shot or the thrust of a knife. You, Jack Brower, and you, Joe Stur- is, take care of yourselves, and show the eaves- ie ping, spying rascals, how we do nb 9 on the lake shore. Down with ’em, I say — down with ’em !” ; The sound of Ralph’s voice told Ross in what j He read as- | Why had they asked | been rumored, had been offered for — n direction to fire, but he dared not discharge his revolver for fear of wounding her who stood be- tween. He slipped from the bed, but not so softly that the movement did not make some noise. He listened to hear the respiration of the man with the hammer. Not hearing him, he put out his hand to touch him ; the place where he had stood was vacant. Just then he saw something gleaming over his head that had the glitter of steel. - He sprang aside and heard a bowie-knife cutting the air. He now moved with more caution, and stooping and groping, brush- ed the garments of the girl, who had remained silent from terror. Fear for her absorbed all personal apprehensions. He caught her in his arms, and remembering the position of the door, bore her into the room from whence she came. A flash of lightning revealed a bed, upon which he placed his nearly unconscious burden. The transient electric sitesi afforded him, also, a passing glimpse of her face ; it was white as a lily, and Cadesoribably lovely. The thought of danger and death did not repress what was manly in his nature, and a deep, involuntary feeting of admiration for the girl of the “ Ten Mile Trace” possessed him, even at that critical moment. A thrilling silence, meanwhile, prevailed in the room where tle nocturnal, sanguinary drama was being enacted, *Ross felt that his duty was there, to defend and avenge his new oe who had’ entered so unexpectedly and boldly into the strife. He was crossing the threshold on his hands and knees, when he came in collision with some one in the same position. They sprang at each other like tigers. Great, strong arms grasped Bernard, and he and his unknown antagonist rolled on the floor, in a deadly and — mutual struggle for the mastery. Several times the ruffian tried to hold the young man beneath him with one hand and the weight of his body, while with his disengaged arm he should dis- atch him with his knife, the back of which he field: firmly in his teeth at the instant of grap- pling, but which, during their rough-and-tumble evolutions, had fallen upon the floor. Both were forced to rely on mere physical power and endurance. While each was thus tugging and straining at the other, a scuffle commenced in the other room, attended with frequent and heavy falls and muttered curses. Ross thought of his new and half-murdered friend, and a strong desir2 for his safety endowed him with surprising strength. He wrenched his right hand free, and fixed his fingers like the claws of a cata- mount on the throat of the muscular ruffian. He threw his whole soul into the effort, and felt the flesh, and muscles, and vessels, yielding like paper to his grip. The fellow uttered a ery of pain, relaxed his hold, rolled from Ber- nard, vainly trying to break from that clutch of despair. | Bernard heard the girl spring from the bed and to the oper door; then her elear voice rang out warningly ; it was like an angel rebuking demons. “Forbear, Ralph Quimby — forbear! This ean no longer be. Cease this horrid strife. or I'll proclaim your secret to all the world! Se- _oret, did Isay? I will reveal more than one. I] will give you to the hand of Justice !”’ “Silence! “Are you mad?” shrieked Ralph. * Keep still, or by , I'll quiet ye forever !” The struggle went on in the room where the three men were. Bernard, who still held his conquered adversary, caught the stealthy sound of a coming foot, and raising his antagonist, threw him heavily upon the floor. A shriek from the girl made him hasten to her assistance ; she was writhfng in the rough grasp of Quimby. “ Betray me, will you?” he yelled. “Give me to the law, won’t ye?” That harsh voice directed Bernard. His left hand was on the man’s shoulder in an instant. Seizing his revolver, which he had thrust inte his pocket before bearing the girl from the im- mediate scene of danger, he struck him upon the head with its heavy butt ; his legs sank un- der him, and he fell like a dead man. Bernard placed his foot remorselessly on his massive chest, and threw his weight upon it, standin thus a moment to discover if there was life enough in him to arise; but the great lump of flesh quivered helplessly. The victor's blood stirred with joy. He «experienced a fierce, stern pleasure in treading upon the brutal being ; it seemed like justice, retribution, compensation. And what added to hie exultation and satisfac- tion, was the fact that his arm encircled the waist of the beautiful girl. . The struggle that had been going on among comicbooks con “| ae