Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 239 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

—_ — ———— the father of the girl with whom he was s0 desprrately in love. Blackbird could hardly bring bimself to realize it. But he knew that be had outlawed himself; that his home could shelter bim no longer, and that he must fly to parts unknown—fly for his life. He knew that he would be hunted like a dog; the presence of Single-Eye, and the friendship of the latter for Lionel, insuring _ this, It would be almost impossible for them to trace him in the timber until the following day. They would naturally suppose that be would at once seek bis father’s ranch on the Guadalupe; consequently his only hope was to reach home ahead of his pursuers, and secure funds with which to escape and to support him in the future. If he waited until daylight, he was lost. There would then be no chance to secure money; for his father, who bad grown cold toward him of late, would make sure that he had no opportunity to rob bim. These thoughts rushed through Blackbird’s mind in a moment while he crouched in the river reeds; then he rushed down the creck again, waded across the stream, and hastened to the thicket where he had secreted his horse. Mounting the animal, he spurred for dear life down the Salado for a mile, and then out from the timber upon the open plain. Over this he sped, like a leaf before the gale, toward the Guadalupe, while a mile to the west, soon after, and pointing directly for the last named stream, galloped Baldy and his associates from Brown’s Ranch, riding parallel with the trail of the man they were hunting; both the latter and themselves heading for the same point, the Blackwell ranch on the Rio Guadalupe. The Terrible. Trio. ered the bodies of the poor negroes hacked and gashed beyond recognition, nothing was said, all seeming to have become most deeply im- pressed and affected by the terrible scene. They had no words to express what they felt. It could not be otherwise than that they should meditate upon the sudden and awful calamities that had fallen like an avalanche upon the unhappy man whom they were pur- | suing. They well know, in their inmost souls, that Lionel Lacrosse was superior to themselves in | all things, and that he would have been justi- } | ' fied in resenting to the death the gross insult that had been publicly put upon bim by Cap- tain Warrington; and few there were among them who did not believe that the officer had again assaulted the young planter while in the bottom timber, and perhaps with a deadly weapon, which, as he felt that he was stricken with death, he might have hurled into the waters of Salado Creek, with the bitter re- solve that his revenge should be felt even after the breath bad left him, by thus leading all to believe that he had been assassinated by Lionel. Notwithstanding this, to these men natural reasonings, they hated the young ranchero, and were, or had been, anxious to ‘“‘start a lynch picnic,” with Lionel as a victim, just for the excitement of the thing, and to rid them- selves of a successful rival in all their sports— a man whose exemplary character put them to shame, Now, however, that the excitement of the chase was over, and their brains were some- what freed from the effects of liquor by the horrible scene before them, and knowing that Lionel must have discovered his father’s corpse, and had been compelled to flee for his life from his ruined home and his dead—banished In two hours’ time, Baldy Brown and the | from them forever—all this forced them to feel rancheros had surrounded the home of Black- bird; leaving their borses and walking toward the dwelling simultaneously at a given signal, for the purpose of searching the house. ‘They bad got to within a pistol-shot of the dwelling when from out the door sprung Bird } Blackwell in desperate haste, a pair of saddle- bags over his shoulder, and a revolver in each hand. Before a signal could bring all of Baldy’s men together in order that they might capture the assassin, the villain bounded like a scared buck toward a motte of oaks, shooting as he ran, and making his way in mad haste. His black and snaky eyes were glaring with murderous madness, as he darted directly toward the men who sought to capture him. Three sharp reports rung on the night air, which were soon after followed by as many more, and two of thé rancheros fell dead, while two more rolled in agony upon the ground, yelling from their torturing wounds— tho shots fired at Blackbird by excited men in such a hurried manner doing him no injury. He dashed into the motte, soon returning, mounted upon a magnificent black horse. With a loud yell of derision and exultation, the outlaw drove spurs and galloped up the Guadalupe at headlong speed; a branded assas- sin, fleeing from his childhood’s bome with a certain consciousness that he could never re- turn to it. The shooting of Captain Warrington of itself outlawed him; and now he had killed two more men, which fact would cause him to be hunted far and wide. Surely the punishment of crime commences at the very moment that crime is commit- Blackbird drove spurs unmercifully, and sped up the Guadalupe at terrific velocity, heading for he knew vot where. CHAPTER IX, THE FELONS FOLLOWERS. RECKLESS ani dissipated as were the associ- ates of Bird Blackwell, all of them carrying canteens of whisky attached to their saddles, they were sobered, amazed, and appalled as they dashed up to the blazing logs, which were all that remained of Lacrosse Ranch, and saw the mutilated corpse of the old major. Eager as they had been to Jynch Lionel, the lariat being already prepared for the purpose and held by one of their number, every thought of avy further pursuit of the young man van- ished. With the exception of a few most emphatic ejaculations of astonishment and borror, as they rode around the blazing ruins and discov- some sympathy for the fugitive, and banished every desire to do him harm. After a survey of the ruins, all gathered, still seated upon their horses, near to the man- gled form of Major Lacrosse. After a short ‘silence, during which all eyes had been fixed upon the blood-stained body, one spoke: ‘‘Hit’s ther dang’d ‘Paches, boyees, an’ I don’t reckon ther red devils hes bin on ther Salado afore in five year.” ‘* Dog-goned ef Lionel ain’t hevin’ hit pasted onter him mighty thick,” said another; ‘ an’ gittin’ all ther dangnation a dozen men orter bev shoved on ’em in a bunch all ter wonst!” ‘You are right there, pard,” said a third; ‘and I, for one, am feeling mean and streaked for hunting him like a dog. How do we know whether he did not have good cause to plug the captain, even after he wos struck in the face? And I would have put a ball in the officer’s heart then, without waiting for any- thing else,” “The reds will get him, and that will end this game, and the Lacrosse family with it,” asserted a fourth. _ “© Whar in thunderation did Blackbird skute tew?” asked the first speaker. ‘*‘He didn’t glide Guadalupe-ways, thet’s sartin.” ‘‘There you’ve got me, for one,” said another. ‘‘Tt’s the strangest part of the day’s dvings. He was dead down on Licnel Lacrosse, and swore he’d make him fight before night. Bird was rvaring mad on account of ther captain’s daughter being so thick with Lacrosse.” Further conversation was here interrupted by the rapid approach of Single-Eye; his horse covered with foam, and panting laboriously, The old scout’s optic blazed with intense fury, as he at first supposed that the dissipated associates of Bird Blackwell, maddened by not being able to capture Lionel, and half-crazed with liquor, had fired Lacrosse Ranch; but, as he came nearer, and saw the expression upon their faces, and then discovered the gashed and scalped corpse of Major Lacrosse tied to the tree, he was struck dumb with horror and astonishment. He jerked Skip-lively to his haunches, near the group of rancheros, and sat looking on in grim silence. After some moments, the men all gazing at the old scout, and he at the mutilated dead, be swept the crowd with his eye, and then burst out, in a hoarse and strangely unnatural voice which betrayed the great and torturing emo- tions that swayed him: “Dog my cats! What does this hyer biz mean, an’ whar’s Lionel thet yer war calker- | latin’ on stringin’ up? a —— _ —- ee ee ee ——_$_-$—_____— ‘Though, ef yer hes any inclernation ter do thet-a-way till yit, ’m a-spittin’ hit fa’r an’ squar’ thet I'll lay every one on yer out cold thet lays a paw onter him, er pulls a lariat ter choke him, ef hit takes ther hull time I’m ’p’inted ter linger on this hyer ball o’ dirt.” All noticed that Single-Eye had both of his revolvers at full cock, ready to grasp, point, and pull trigger in a moment’s time. They also knew that the old scout not only meant every word he said, but he was the man to carry out his threat to the last letter. However, there was now a favorable oppor- tunity to turn his mind from themse)ves to the Indian raiders; and one of the rancheros quick- ly appointed bimself spokesman by at once re- plying to the scout. “Do you not see, Single-Eye, that the devil- ish Apaches have been here? This is no time for us to quarrel among ourselves. Lionel Lacrosse has escaped, we know not where, and we are thankful now that he came to no barm at our hands. ‘‘There are proofs enough here—sad and terrible proofs—that he bas had enough of misery hurled upon him in a single day, to cause him to blow his own brains out. I, for one, was excited by drink, and I regret that I acted at all in this affair. “There is no doubt that young Lacrosse had a right to demand satisfaction for the insult put upon him by Captain Warrington, and we do not know that the captain did not assault him again when they met in the timber—per- haps with a deadly weapon, although nothing of the kind was found. ‘‘ What surprises me is that Lionel did not state what must have been the facts of the case in his explanation of the tragic af- fair.” ‘Tm ormighty full o’ glad ter hear yer sling thet sort o’ gab,” said the old scout, ‘coz hit goes ter show yer ain’t all bad from runnin’ with thet dang’d, condemned cuss Blackbird; fer he air a black bird clean througb, ‘‘He air ther coward kiote what shot ther capt’in, pullin’ trigger from the bushes et ther same time Lionel shot et ther snake, es he tole yer hisself. “*T ectched ther cuss, an’ tuck ther six from him what be bed fired; but he squirmed away inter ther busb. Howsomever, I'll help ter run him up a limb, afore I flop over an’ go under.”’ With these words Single-Eye let down the bammers of his revolvers, returned the wea- pons to bis belt, and then, without further no- tice of the rancheros, who stood gazing one at another in silent astonishment, he dismounted and strode up to the corpse of Major Lacrosse, saying, more to himself than to them: ‘‘Wa-al, what in thunderation air comin’ nex’? Ef this byer hain’t bin a black day fer poor Lionel, I'll mastercate ther ’Merikin eagle without pickin’ out pin-feathers er singein’. Dang my ole beart ef bit doesn’t ’pear es though this hyer world air "bout ter bu’st up! ‘‘T’m plum upsot, an’ feels like a “ creased ” mustang arter he ’gins ter come back ter biz, Dang ther red hellyuns! How kim they ter pint this-a-way? Lionel air bound ter go plum crazy now, sure es shootin’, ef I doesn’t hump myself right lively an’ find bim, which I sw’ar I know I can’t do, ’count o’ his bein’ on a hefty stompede, an’ Skip-lively air bout bu’st- ed o’ wind.” The astonished rancheros were conversing in low tones in regard to the strange assertions of the old scout in connection with Blackbird, which, perfectly astounding though they were, they had no other alternative than to accept as the truth; and Single-Eye, turning abrupt- ly, asked: “Did ary one o’ yer git a peep et Lionel when yer broke brush?” “No,” replied, at once, the man who had first spoken; ‘‘ we have not set eyes upon him since he broke away from us at the scene of the murder, ‘Have you any idea, Single Hye, where Bird Blackwell is now?’ ‘‘T hes a idee thet ther devil hes gi’n him a lift,” answered the old scout; “‘an’ tuck bin a piece from Brown’s Ranch, But thar’s a hefty crowd a-huntin’ him, an’ I wouldn't give shucks fer his hide er ha’r, arter they gits a peep et ther cuss; er, fer thet matter, ther scalp 0’ any one what’s with him. “He can't stake hisself out in West Texas arter this last condemned biz. “But ther wo’stest o’ ther hull thing, air | (e(e) ,O'O AMG ‘iS ao ae «>i ‘vine ea) Sa at. 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