Beadle's Dime Library No. 237 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

—) one man who was among the last and who was lainly still alive. He was making a gallant fi bt ie life, and all hoped he migbt succeed. earer he came, and at the proper moment, reso!ved to save bim from tbe final shock, Long- Haired Max dashed into the billow, regardless of danger, and grasped the man by thecollar. There was a moment of suspense, for there was danger that the billow would take both of them back when it receded; but the cavalier's strength and courage triumphed, and he bore his priza well back. Evidently, however, he had not rescued him unhurt, for he lay a dead weight in his arms. Looking down at the face he recognized Turner, the mate of the craft, and bis eagerness to hear him talk was increased. He, at least, would know all the secrets of the Black League, Placing him gently on the ground, he looked for his injuries, The mate lay with closed eyes, and yet not wholly insensible—no, one look at bis wounds told the cavalier that it was the half- stupor which precedes death. One of the other men banded over a whisky- flask; and then as they went to look for fresh victims, he was left alone with the dying man, He managed to pour a quantity of the liquor down bis throat, and then the heavy eyelids moved back, _ “I'm dying,” g-sped Turner. ‘What can I do for you?” tersely, but sym- pathetically asked Max. ‘‘ Nothing,” groaned the mate, “ Haven’t you friends?” ““Yes; oh, merciful Heaven, yes! but they must never hear from me. It would kill them to know what I have been. Let me die and leave no sign.” ** You can do one good deed before you go. Tell me of the Black League.” Turner did not answer. His eyes had closed, and he seemed far gone on the road to the other world, Max shook him by the arm. ‘** Awake—arouse!” he cried. ‘Tell me of Captain Peters. What is the Black League?” The lids opened, and the man looked at Max with glazing eyes. He was near to death, but there was still a gleam of intelligence. “The Black League—Barstow—the ruined mission!” he iaintly gasped, and then his jaw fell and his eyes closed. ‘* Dead!” muttered Max. eret is untold. Perhaps—” He ceased as, greatly to his surprise, Turner started upon his elbow. His face had grown bright and energetic, and bis strength was sur- rising. ‘* All hands on deck!” he shouted, in a distinct voice. It was the last effort of his life. As the final word passed his lips, he collapsed entirely and fell back in a heap, really dead at last. With all bands at their stations, he had run bis bark through the mystic portals which lie between life’s ocean and the world beyond, ‘* Dead, and the se- CHAPTER XXXIV. THE ALCALDE DECLARES WAR. THE cavalier bad arisen when convinced that Turner was past speech, but he stood looking at him in deep thought. Oh! that another minute of life bad been granted the man that he might have told the secret of the Black League. Yet, he bad told something. “The Black League—Barstow—the ruined mission!” The words, few as they were, revealed a good deal. They said, in substances, ‘‘ Barstow is con- nected with the Black League, and the old mission playsa part in the crama;”’ and Max resolved to seek for the secret as soon as he reached Nuevo Madrid. He was about turning away from the mate when a warning cry from a man near at hand caused him to wheel suddenly. He was none too soon. Above him towered a man in whose hand glittered a long knife, and when the cavalier aprung out of reach it was too late for the would-be assassin to arrest bis stroke. His arm descended, and, meeting only empty air, ho staggered forward a few paces. By that time Max had recovered bis wits, and, re- cogn zing in the man a Mexican named Felipe, whom he knew to be one of Barstow’s tools, he struck one straight blow and stretched the fellow senseless on the ground, A series of shouts arose from the man. ** He tried to krill you, stranger!” “Shoot ther critter!” “Hang bim!” The cries were very appropriate, for Felipe bad been a vile wretch, and the man whose life he had attempted to take was not more merciful than those who shouted. — Indignant at the attempt on bis life, Long- Hairea Max seized the fellow, and, raising him high above his head, cast him into a receding billow. Back from the shore he was swept, as helpless @s a child, and when the next wave cast him ashore, he was past doing mischief. Long-Haired Max. ee Another of Barstow’s assassins had met a | deserved end. Besides his body, those of twelve other men lay on the shore—the entire crew of the, schooner, with the exception of Captain Peters —and all were dead. Out on the rock, only a remnant of the Water Witch was visible, a fragment from which rose a single mast, like a gravestone of the men who had died in the service of the Black League, Little by little, the doomed vessel was giving way to the billows which broke upon her with crushing force, and as Long Haired Max realized that no more could be learned, he went baek to the botel. The rain had ceased and the wind was rapidly losing its force, so it was decided to leave San Lopez at once. Accordingly, their horses were ordered, and Max, Marcy, Solvo, and Benson started for Nuevo Madrid. The journey was made without accident, but the weakness of Marcy made their progress so slow that it was nearly noon when the town was reached. Max saw his friends safely at the hotel, and then went to the office of Alcalde Jones, His honor was seated at his table, smoking with a fury which even astonished Max. Mr. Jones always made a business of smoking, but this time he was unusually active. **Durnation wildcats! be you ’round ag’in?” he demanded, ‘i'd begun ter think you had been assassinated like Brutus by the Hungarians. Tell me what's b’en did.” The cavalicr obeyed, but made his story as short as possible, for be knew very well that the alcalde had something to relate in turn. **T ain’t surprised,” said Mr. Jones. hyar business bas reached a p’int whar nothin’ is s’prisin’. Desolation is let loose on ther ’arth, an’ ther American eagle is screamin’ in fear, Ther Republic totters on ber throne, an’ personal liberty is goin’ at a gallop ter durnation smash, Nobody is safe nowhar. You ain’t, an’ I ain’t, Red-handed murder stalks inter ther very beart o’ my jewrisprudence, an’ shakes his gory locks almost in ther boodwah o’ jestice. Ther times are out o’ j’int, an’ it’s a eompound, confounded fractur’!” Long- Haired Max waited patiently for the al- calde to finish his eloquent remarks, ‘If there is a fracture,” he then said, “I think you and I are the men to set the broken bone,” ‘Right you are, my boyee, right you are, Ve’ll soothe ther screamin’ eagle, garter up our loins, an’ go forth terrule or ruin, We’ll estab- lish ther rack an’ gullytine, an’ make ther Tiger | run red as frothin’ wine. From this proximo we will inaugurate a reign o’ terror an’ slash an’ kill indiscriminitably.” ‘* Having settled that point, tell me what has happened,” said Max, quietly. The alcalde’s countenance fell. ‘*Durnation wildcats! it breaks my heart ter divulge; but Castro an’ Peters : re both gone.” ‘*Gonel!l” echoed Max. ‘* Yes,” said Jones, sheepishly. ‘“ fow and when?” ‘*Tast night was ther time, but how I don’t know. ’Tennyrate, all 1 kin tell is that Castro got out o’ ther jail by ther winder. unseen an’ oths an’ ** This unheerd by ther blue-coats, an’ that somebody tuk Peters away by fust overpowerin’ ther guard, an’ then h’istin’ bim down a ladder, Mr. Jones spoke very sheepishly, but to Max came a recollection of what Colonel Barstow had whispered to Castro at Casa Victoria. ‘* Have no fear; I will save you!” Remembering this, be could not doubt the source from which the aid had come, and he knew Jones must be equally well informed. ‘*1t strikes me,” he said, ‘*that Lieutenant Mellough must be a very reckless man. To his door belongs the blame for Castro's escape, for, of course, the man would not have slipped away without his connivance. I am really surprised that he should go so far.” ‘* He’s as bad as Barstow.” “Tn my opinion, weakness of mind is answer- able for his follies. From the first I have been surprised to see such a person a government of- ficer. He is weak, narrow-minded and vicious, and having resigned himself to the control of Barstow, who is willing to compromise him if he secures his own ends, the lieutenant does whatever the stronger minded villain suggests, He bopes his villainy will never be known at head-quarters, but I shall make it my business to lodge complaint against him. As for the es- cape of Castro and Peters, we suffer no great | loss thereby.” oan al ; ‘‘My officious dignity is wallerin’ round in ther lowest depths o’ infamy an’ despair,” said the alcalde, mournfully. “Sech a thing never happened in this hyar jewrisprudence afore sense I took ther helm.” ‘ ‘s Have no fear, my dear sir, for—” Max paused abruptly, as the door was pushed open, and a vailed lady entered, | She at once uncovered her face, and the cavalier recognized ss Smith. oe meeting was an agreeable one to both, and Max, interpreting ber glance aright, went to the door and shoved the bolt. ‘she said, sadly. 25 ‘We are now free from intruders,” he said, quietly. She thanked him, and he then intreduced ber to the alcalde, adding that the latter was his confidant in all matters. ‘*T am ready to speak to all except the friends of James Barstow,” she said. ‘‘How is your warfare progressing?” “So well that the trap will be speedily sprung.” ‘*The sooner the better. The American lieu tenant was at the house this morning.” ‘* Mellough?” ac Yes. ” ‘* Did you hear their conversation?” ‘‘Rest assured I did, First of all, I heard them speak of two prisoners they aided to es- fe: last night—men named Peters and Cas- ro, We know them. Did Mellough confess bis art? ‘* He said in plain words that he entered Cas- tro’s cell and loosened the bars at the window, no Ee could easily be removed from the out- side. ‘* Very good; we have him now. What has become of the prisoners?’ ‘‘Of Castro I know nothing, but Peters is concealed at the old mission.” Max was not surprised, but he allowed him- self to lock very much amazed, ‘What place of concealment is there at the old mission?” be asked. “There is a mystery about the place which I do not understand,” she said, thoughtfully, ‘*though I do know that Barstow has :ome se- cret baunt there, Is there not a chance for a hidden room?” “There must be, for I have myself seen strange scenes within its walls, What it is I do not know, but I'll take my oath there is a most peculiar mystery about it.” ‘*Can’t you solve it?” Miss Smith asked, **' We can, and will,” ‘‘One thing more. To-nigbht, the plotters spring some plot upon Don Ramon Victoria.” “Tonight? Then we must indeed be up and doing. What is the plot?” ““T know nothing of its nature, but I do know tbat Barstow is confident that it will result im his complete triumph. ‘To-morrow,’ he said to Mellough, ‘ Donna Inez shall be m promised wife or we will crush the whole family!” **Durnation wildcats!” interrupted the al- calde, ‘* his brass is amazin’. Why, he is a per- fect Cicero fur schemin’. Does he think he can ride rough shod over ther boodwah o’ jestice an’ spread detestation an’ misery through my bull jewrisprudence, as ’twere? No; he shall not do it. Ther American eagle is screamin’ fer jeg- tice, an’ jestice shall te did if I bev ter bide ther non-combattants in ther bulrushes an’ go out seekin’ whom I may gnaw, like Moses did)” CHAPTER XXXV, THE WEAVING OF THE WEB, Lona HarrED Max was too much in earnest to notice that the alcalde was taking undue li- berty with the history of Moses. He spoke like one in a reverie, “The case is now settled; to-night must see the ending of this affair, Barstow has run to the length of bis rope, and if he is not the most utterly ruined man in Nuevo Madrid, when an- other day breaks, I am s;reatly mistaken. Mr. Alcalde, I shall not leave your office to-day.” ‘*T’ll give you a life-lesse, officicusly signed,” said Mr, Jones, ‘‘ but I’d like ter know why. Is it ter peep outo’ Barstow’s sight?’ ‘* Yes, [am sure the news of my return bas not gone abroad, and as he scattered bis assas- sins so plentifully over the San Lopez trail, he bas reason to believe me dead. 1’ll keep out of sight, and when the trap is sprung bis presence therein will be sure.” | ‘“‘T bave now told all I know,” said Miss Smith, ‘‘ unless you care to hear why I hate James Barstow.’ It was just what Max did wish to hear, and he said as much. ‘My name is not Smith, but Ellen Arnold,” ‘* My sister married Barstow six years ago, and the union wrecked both our lives. You know the man well enough so that when I say he soon tired of her and allowed his hatred full play, you may gather some idea of the life she was compelled to lead. It would drive me mad to dwell upon it; suffice to sa she bowed unresistingly before bis cruelty and, little by little, her reason gave way and she be- came insane,” The narrator paused for a moment to recover her composure, and during the interval even the alcalde had the delicacy not to interrupt her sorrow with words. For two years,” continued Miss Arnold, ‘*m unfortunate sister bas been confined in a pa - ded room of Barstow’s bouse and I have been her keeper, During the greater part of the time she has been but gloomy and ss -songh her past was entirely gone—but at times she had violent attacks which made the padding of the room necessary. Do not ask me to dwell upon the subject; enough to say that she bas now gone from earthly troubles, This evening, JOO COMING <S (E(@)