Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 241 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

Spitfire Saul, King of the Rustlers. ** You sold out the remnant of your property, took your daughter and left, no man could say whither at that time. ‘** Some years later, professional business called me to St. Louis, and one day 1 came across two boys fighting each other in the street. | It was a plucky struggle on both sides, and I | stopped to watch them. No policeman was near | to interfere, and the struggle continued until the larger, heavier lad owned up beaten. Some- thing in the face of the victor strongly attract- ed me. It seemed as though I must have known him back io the past, and I helped to brusb his clothes. He looked up as he thanked me, and then I knew the truth—I knew that I had found young Lucien Debonay, your long-lost heir! ‘** Like a revelation the memory of that old vow came back to me, and I could almost hear the dying voice of old Martin reproaching me for having failed him, soshamefully betraying the sacred trust he had ueathed me, ‘*] was older, more hardened, a man of the world, then, and I concluded that I would look into the matter a little, and, if it would not too | seriously interfere with the plans I already had | mapped out, give a sacrifice to the offended | manes, ‘To make sure that I was on the right trail, I contrived, while pretending to arrange his | torn clothing, to obtain a glimpse of his arm, and there I found the scar which marked the spot where the rattlesnake had buried its fangs. After that, I felt no doubt as to the lad’s identi- ty, and questioned him closely, yet so carefully that he could have no possible suspicion that I was pumping him. ‘‘ He was a bright littie rascal, and answered | me frankly, but | had learned to trust nothing | to chance, and secretly followed him home. What [ learned during the next few days, may be briefly summed up. **'The lad was the adopted son of a rich mer- chant who did a rushing business down near the wharf. He had been given a good educa- tion, so far as it went, and was then preparing for college, though so young. ‘My inquiries ended there, for the time being, | owing to an unfortunate misunderstanding which caused me to leave St. Louis without the usual formalities, but the curious meeting still haunted me, and during my enforced rustica- tion, I visited our old stamping grounds, and there learned of your social wreck and sudden disappearance, I tried in vain to get on your pack spending much time and money, finally returning to St. Louis, when I felt assured that my little escapade of that unlucky night, had | blown over without positively implicating my | name, ‘*Once there, [ sought out your son, meetin with another surprise. His adopted father ha been speculating rashly, and getting far beyond | his depth, took passage to another land where stocks and bonds are unknown, punching bis | own ticket with a thirty-two caliber bullet. ‘‘Nota dollar was left for the lad, though the will which the merchant left behind bim, bequeathed more than a million to his “ dearly beloved son.” Unfortunately it was not worth the paper it was written upon. *‘In my life, | had learned to take long risks and I fancied I could see money at the end of | this affair, if it was carefully conducted, and so_ I did my best to console the lad, ** While doing so, | drew from him the story of his early life, as far as he could recall it. Luckily there wer: enough prominent points to prove his idertity with your lost son. ** He could remember the alligator, the name his nurse, whom he declared he had seen torn to pieces by the ugly reptile; his being carried off in the arms of an ugly old man; bis being bitten — by tbe rattlesnake and the heroic treatment of the injury, showing me the scar in proof of bis | words as he reached this point. ‘‘ After this his memory was a little hazy for some time, growing vivid again as he recalled | the shooting and charging of mounted men into the wild place where he lived. He remem- bered being terribly frightened, thinking surely he would be killed, and of running away into | the swamp. How long he wandered there he could not tell, but remembered reaching the bank ofa river and lying down in the warm sun, almost starved, and so wearied that it did | not seem as though he could take another step, even though his life depended upon doing so. ‘‘ But he was wrong there, for he was sudden- ly awakened, to see a panther crouching only a ' little ways off, seemingly in readiness to spring upon him, and with a cry of terror he rushed down the bank and plunged into the river. He remembered swimming down-stream for some | time, then crawliag astride a log which floated nee?. ‘‘ His next memory was of awaking ina warm bunk on board some sort of vessel manned by negroes, while a kind-featured and tender-yoiced man bent over him. This was the man who afterward adopted him, and for whom he now mou) ned, . “This was more than enough to satisfy me that [had made no mistake, and I set about Syed his confidence. It was an easy task much of him when he was the reputed heir of a millionaire, now shunned him whenever they chanced to cross his path, and he felt these re- peated snubs acutely. ** Well, I had a few spare hundreds on hand, and thought I could afford to risk them in the investment. I did so, putting the lad into a good school, then set forth to hunt you up. ** Tt was like searching for a needle in a hay- mow, but I did not despair of final success, though I did not altogether forget my regular line of business while working the blind lead; and it was lucky, too, for through that I at length made the longed-for discovery. “A certain bank lost its reserve fund, and somehow my name became mixed up with the affair. To avoid annoying questions I came further West, and by pure accident heard your name mentioned. [came here, and soon satis- fied myself that you were my game, and am now looking for the dividends on my little spec- ulations.” ‘That young man—he is my son!” gasped Debonay, his painfully enforced composure at length failing bim. * Now you are lying!” brutally sneered Blood- good. ‘* Your son is not here. He is dead and buried years ago!” CHAPTER X. BLOODGOOD CLAIMS THE STAKES. in his intense excitement, almost ver, eps with mingled hopes and fears, casting aside al ee at cold composure, Pierre Debona ad raised from his chair, leaning with bot hands on the little table which alone separated the two men, to support his trembling limbs as he gasped forth that question, his voice so husky and unnatural that Bloodgood interpreted his meaning more by instinct than ear. Sharp and cruel as a blow in the face to an unarmed and unsuspecting man, came his brutal answer. Pierre Debonay sunk back in his chair, quivering in every limb as though suddeniy afflicted with a palsy, staring in a painfully dazed manner at the malignant deraon opposite him, but in which Fred Bloodgood saw only cause for merriment. ‘* Why, you idiotic old cat-swinger! Do you for a moment think Iam such a blessed fool as _to brin my man here before having it thoroughly understood what I was to earn for _my trouble? That would be a sweet way to do business for my father’s son, and with the cowardly villain who did his level best to flog an old and innocent man to death!” Pierre Debonay had borne much from this fellow, but now Fred Bloodgood was to realize that he bad gone a little too far, for, without the slightest warning, the ranchero left bis chair in a sudden leap that carried bim over the table far enough to dash bis fist full into the foul- mouthed villain’s face, then gripe his throat with his still sinewy fingers as both chair and table were overturned by the shock, hurling the yee ge to the floor, Bloodgood under- neath. Only for a moment. A giant in strength, lithe and bard to pin fast as a panther, a single desperate effort served to turn the ranchero, | and free his throat from that tenacious gripe. A snarling curse broke from his clinched teeth, as he raised himself sufficiently to jerk a glit- tering blade from its hidden sheath ir his bosom, The weapon hung over the head of Pierre Debonay for an instant, then fell—to bury its keen point deep into the floor! Though he probably would have regretted such a termination to the interview which he had taken so many pains to bring around, there is not the slightest doubt but that Fred Blood- good meant death when he raised his hand for that blow, but his fell purpose was foiled by the sudden flinging open of the door, the edge of which struck violently against his elbow, driv- | ing bis arm forward, and aside, utterly destroy- ing his aim. edro, the black, bad caught the sound made by the overturned furniture, and casting all ceremony to the winds in bis love for his master, he flung open the door and rushed into the room, stumbling over the prostrate figures, before he saw them, falling headlong with a startled grunt. No longer pompous, but half frightened and wholly angry, the negro leaped to his feet, only to go down like a log as the hard-clinched fist of Bloodgood struck him full in the unguarded throat. Springing lightly back, Bloodgood closed the door, s‘anding with his back against it, a cocked revolver in his hand, covering the ranchero as he spoke swiftly: Anis ‘‘Get up, you old idiot! But make another move like that, and [ll salivate yon, sure! Quiet that nigger before you send him away, or Pll kill you both! Be wise, and [ll tell you the rest of that story.” ; | Slowly, painfully the ranchero regained his feet, wiping away the few drops of blood 'whieh trickled from a bruise on his temple. | Bloodgood kept him covered, fully anticipating | another assault, but Debonay smiled faintly as he read this suspicion. **T apologize for having lowered myself even then, poor fellow, for those who had made ' for a moment to the level of such acontemptible \ 13 scoundrel, I will not forget myself again. You can put up your weapon,” Bloodgood felt Lis cheeks flush crimson at the ! quiet scorn which permeated every word, but as the stunned negro at that juncture madea feeble attempt to arise, he slipped the revolver back dob place, though still holding himself on uard. Without once glancing toward him, Pierre Debonay passed over to the side of the servant, assisting him to arise, saying: ‘* Be a little less clumsy, Pedro, in the future, and never dare enter this room unless I rin for you. Offend in a like manner again, and shall be compelled to dispense with your ser- vices altogether. You understand me.” “Fore de Lawd, Marse Pierre, I didn’t mean no hurt!” faltered the bewildered negro. “TI hearn somefin’ tumble, an’ I—” “Enough!” was the stern’ interruption. ‘*There’s the door. Close it behind you, and come when I ring for you. Go!” Reeling like a drunken man, the poor devil hastened to leave the apartment, his senses too thoroughly obfuscated too notice the knife which still stuck in the floor, or the grim smiles with which Fred Bloodgood watched his re- treat. Pierre Debonay raised the table and chairs to their proper position, and resumed his seat, mo- tioning Bloodgood to do likewise, his voice ringing out clear and sbarp: ** Be seated. If you have anything more to say, state it as briefly as possible, our com- pany is rapidly growing unbearable, and [ will not be answerable for the consequences if you ay my temper any further. Vith a low, jeering leugh, Bloodgood drop- ped into the seat. “To hear your words, one would really think ou had come out first best in our little brush, instead of owing your life to an accident, with the shaping of which you had nothing to do!” be said, mockingly. ‘‘ But let that flea stick i’ the wall. I’m glad that the dark’ put in an ap- pearance, just as he did, or I’d be out of pocket a few dollars by the operation.” ** You'll get no money from me, through this clumsily trumped-up tale,” said the ranchero, coldly. ‘‘If you leave the ranch with a whole skin, you may congratulate yourself.” “You haven't got any money to squander on either of those cards,” laughed Bloodgood. ‘Bah! do you think for a moment that I would take all this trouble, without being sure of my hand? If so, you're going to get left, bad /” ‘Say your say out, without further digres-. sion, or I'll sound this bell and bid my servants flog you off the estate like a cur, That language is plain enough for your comprehension, I hope,” sternly uttered Debonay, his eyes flash- in g. ‘Fling yourself wide open, old fellow, if you find any satisfaction in doing so,” sneered Bloodgood. ‘I’m willing. Every hard word will have to be paid for, through the nose. When I came here, | was perfectly willing to take ten thousand and call it square; now I'll strike you for double the amount—and finger it, too, bet your sweet life!” ‘‘Indeed!” sneered the ranchero, ‘For in- forming me that my son isdead and buried?” ‘For owning up that I lied to you, when I slung those words at your head,” was the frank | reply. ‘‘I did lie, partly to make my little . story more dramatic, but mainly because I felt bound to touch you upa little on account of Martin, the Swamp Fox. Sometimes I feel a trifle guilty at not having carried out his dying — wishes more thoroughly, but hard cash counts more with me, just now, than an old pledge.” Stooping, he picked up the bottle which lay at his feet, but the liquor had all escaped, and be dropped it again, ‘* After a certain fashion, I did my level best ome pinese the dead old man, and satisfying my- se eo very soon, I went back to where I left the oy. He was glad to see me, and I fancied that. I would have little difficulty in working out the proper lead. ‘Feeling no little remorse at having so long neglected the dying charge of old Martin, a brilliantidea had occurred to me, by means of: which I hoped to revenge him and fill my own pockets, at one and the same time. Shall I tell you my idea?” with a diabolical leer, bastily resuming, as the ranchero stared past him as though he neither heard nor heeded. ‘Silence gives consent, the world over. My little scheme was something like this: ‘TY would spend a month or two in cor- rupting the mind and morals of this ouneees > who seemed to fancy that I carried the sun, moon and stars in my breeches pocket. Little by jerks, I'd let him into the secret of earning a living by one’s wits, and then, when be was fully ripe for the climax, I would duly initiate him,taking care that a trail was left which would end in State’s prison, or the gallows, if possi- ble. This much for old Martin; then @ stroke for myself. I would sell you your son, get the money, then put the bloodhounds on his trail, ane pretty sure that old Martin would turn over in his grave for very joy as he saw your son and heir hung!” " ae that you were too well fixed to leave this a3 "comicbooks.com \