Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 241 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

14 ee ee ee ee Despite his admirably assumed stoicism, as he listened to these words, so full of infernally malignant era Pierre Debonay could not hinder his eyes from drooping nor his thin lips from quivering, though he uttered not a word in reply. - Bloodgood laughed tauntingly, but soon re- sumed his story. ‘A neat little scheme, if Ido say it myself. With ninety-nine boys out of a bundred, it would have worked to a charm, but unluckily for old Martin, this youngster proved the ex- ception. Do what I would, say what I might, I could not get him to comprehend my mean- ing, and, though I lay no claim to tenderness of either heart or hide, I could not give a kick when a hint failed to do the work I desired. ‘Just then a little financial speculation in which I was interested, turned out disastrously, and [had to levant without standing on the manner of my flitting. It was two years later before I got matters straightened out so that I could efoto the youngster with anything like safety, and then I was almost shoal on the bar. ‘Even then I was not quite reconciled to abandoning my plans of making Lucien a mem- ber of the fancy, but when he heard me speak of my impecuniosity, what does he do but pull out a healthy roll tel aka the savings from the allowance I had made him while at college. That touched me, and I doubted no longer. I would restore him to you—if you came down liberally enough—and let old Martin take out his spite in baunting you, for lack of a more substantial revenge.” Breathless from his rapid speaking, Blood- ad paused, and Pierre Debonay slowly ut- “Then this young man who bore you com- og here, is the tool whom you have selected aid you in carrying out your precious scheme? “Tam the only man living who can positive- ly answer either yes or no to that yg cor was the deliberate response. ‘‘And what I say, depends mainly on how you look upon the financial part of the matter. This much I will say: If you agree to my terms, I pledge myself to place your long lost son in your arms within a month from date, or—” “Or fill them with a cunning impostor, well-trained by the vilest scoundrel since the death of Martin. the cdg Ah impulsively exclaimed the rancbero, his thin lips curling with strongly mingled scorn and disgust. Bloodgood never flinched, and his voice showed no anger as he made reply: ‘*T am a man of business, from the bottom to the top notch and I have learned enough of ou, to know that you keep your word, when it once passed. Pledge me your word of honor, as a gentleman, that you will pay me the sum of money I demand, and on my borne I agree not to ask a cent for my time and trouble, if I fail to satisfy you that I am _ producing the Simon puce Jacobs. Can I say fairer?’ ‘** Doubtless you have laid your wires perfect- ly, and well drilled your candidate in the part he is expected to play.” ‘*T have never breathed a word to him of the truth. He has not the remotest idea that you are of any kin to him—” ‘I take your protestations for just what they are worth—nothing,” coldly interposed the ranchero. ‘'Fortunately, or otherwise, as it may turn out, I can checkmate you, if you are page a cross-game with me.” bruptly rising from his seat, Pierre Debo- nay crossed the room and drew aside one of the heavy curtains, an from a sbelf paper, pen andink. Resuming his seat, be wrote rapidly for a few moments, then tossed the still damp screed across to where Bloodgood was eagerly watching his every movement. But the light of covetousness died away in his eyes, and gave place to a look of baffled rage as he read what was written. It wasa pledge to pay—name left blank—the sum of ten thousand dollars, one month after date, provided certain conditions were fulfilled. It ended abruptly, without any signature. Bloodgood ae the paper, with an oath. ** And you think that willsatisfyme? Do you take me for a fool?” he demanded, showing his white teeth beneath his overshadowing beard, his black eyes glittering as brightly and veno- mously as those of an enraged serpent. ‘*In more than one respect, yes,” was the cool answer. ‘In others, an unmitigated scoundrel, for whom hanging is too good. Above ali, an ass for thinking that I would pay you one red cent without first assuring myself that you were not trying to beat me with worse than worth- less goods.” ‘“You'll pay me double that sum, either in cash, or with a check on your banker. If the last, you will make it payable to bearer, and give me in addition, a letter which will hinder the bank officials from asking too many ques- tions before cashing the draft. Refuse—” ‘“ Well?’ coolly questioned the ranchero, as he hesitated. “You will never set eyeson yourson. More than that, I swear to kill him like a dog! Now you’ve got it. Choose!” Ms “‘T have chosen,” with cold decision. / Spitfire Saul, King of the lieve you are lying to me—that this tale of your discovering my to end, Still, I am willing to investigate the matter. If you are right, I will give you ten thousand dollars in hard cash or notes, just as you prefer. But not until I bave had one full month tosatisfy myself that the youth you pro- duce is indeed the child for whom I have mourned so long and bitterly.” Despite the iron hand with which he kept his emotions in check, the voice of the ranchero grew husky as he uttered these words, and he abruptly broke off speaking. When he resumed, all traces of weakness had vanished. ‘You have my ultimatum. Take it or leave it, just as you think best. I will make no other offer, though you pile threat upon threat until rou could use them as a stair-case to mount to eaven itself!” Fred Bloodgood was gnawing at the ends of his magnificent beard, his black eyes filled with furious rage at what he could not avoid admit- ting as a defeat—and that just when he felt that he held cards that must sweep the board. He could see that the ranchero was in deadly earnest; that he had spoken his final word, un- less his terms were accepted, and fearing to lin- ger longer, lest Mark Boyd should put in an appearance, he yielded, though sullenly. ‘Sign that paper, and I'll tell you where your son may found. Put my name, Fred Bloodgood, in that blank, to—” ‘Take the document just as it is, or leave it,” was the cold interruption. ‘It is just as bind- ing on me, and without a signature you will hardly think it worth while to attempt to have it discounted before the month is up. ** And when I come for m pay, you'll have the bloodhounds ready to nab me!” snarled the desperado, viciously. ‘* You hold my word of honor that, so far as I am concerned, you may come and go without molestation. ou have not entered into this affair without satisfying yourself that my sim- ple word is as good as my bond. Come here, one month after you show me the person whom you claim is my lost child, and if 1 am satisfied of your truth, you shall have the money. If I find you have attempted to deceive me, still you shall depart as free as you came, I swear this, on my honor.” ‘* You carry matters with a cursed high hand!” 3 When dealing with self-convicted scoundrels ‘All right!” and Bloodgood flung himself back in his chair, with a sullen scowl. ‘ We'll settle one matter first. Call your nigger, and let him show up the young chap who came here with the girls, this afternoon.” Pierre Debonay touched the bell, and the door was opened cautiously, Pedro still Ag oe a dazed and bewildered look, clearly not having entirely recovered from that terrible blow in the throat, just touching the knob with the “~ of his fingers, his arm extended at full length, as he peered dubiously into the room, seem- ingly ready to dodge aside in case he should scent danger in the air, Pierre Debonay gave him the order, and as the door closed once more, the two men main- tained a silence which lasted until the youth, whom we have thus far known as Kirk Blood- good, entered the gloomy apartment. Bloodgood roused up a little, but did not rise from his chair as he waved his hand toward the pale ranchero, saying: ‘Kirke, my lad, | promised you a surprise- party before long, and here you have it; that gentleman is your father!” The young fellow turned a shade paler, star- ing from one to the other in mute astonishment, seemingly bewildered by this abrupt introduc- tion. Nor was Pierre Debonay less agitated, though with a desperate effort of will, he re- pee his former cold expression, ere rising to is feet. ‘‘My dear sir,” he said, speaking slowly, as though he found some difficulty in securing the precise words he needed; ‘‘ you hear what this —this man says—” ‘* But I don’t understand him!” exclaimed the oung man, shrinking back a trifle. ‘‘ He’s my rother—my father is dead—Fred!” turning swiftly upon the desperado, his dark eyes glit- tering vividly; ‘‘ what do you mean?” “Just what I say,” was the cool response. ‘‘That gentleman is your father. I wish you to tell him the story of your childhood, just as you told it to me—” ‘‘ There is a still shorter method of getting at the bottom facts than that,” interjected the ranchero, his eyes glowing with suppressed emotion. ‘If this is the son I have long be- lieved dead, he bears a birthmark on his person which will readily prove his identity—” ‘‘T knew there was some mistake,” and the youth laughed, a little nervously. “‘I pledge you my word, sir, tha: I have not a blemish on my person, save a scar, received when a child!” ‘*Where was this birthmark, and in what shape?” asked Fred Bloodgood, his face con- siderably paler, an uneasy light in his eyes, as though he feared his carefully reared structure was on the point of falling about bis ears. **On his ht arm, midway between wrist and elbow, and it consisted of three small meles aUBtOFS. > , Se ed forming a rude triangle, showing a tiny dot of or son is false from beginning | the white skin in the center.” With a long drawn breath of relief, Blood- good said; ‘*That accounts for it, then! I knew I could not have made such a clumsy blunder as all that comes to!” ‘“ What do you mean?” sharply demanded the ranchero. ‘Peel your right arm, Kirke, and satisfy the gentleman.” Without a word the youn ed, and eagerly catching the member, Pierre Debonay bent closely over it, only to start back with a low cry of mingled anger and disap- intment; for there, between the wrist and el- ow, directly on the spot where the triangle of moles should have shown, was a deep, broad scar, seemingly a combination of cuts and burns! ‘*How came that?’ he demanded, hoarsely, touching the scar with one forefinger, as he stared keenly into the black eyes. ; ‘*T was bitten by a rattlesnake, and that is where the hurt was cut and cauterized,” was the quick rigs me Pierre Debonay dropped the arm, and said, abruptly: ‘““You may leave us. I will explain later. IL am not fit justnow, Pray rejoin the ladies and await my coming. “Say good-by, first, old fellow,” said Fred Blood , carelessly extending his hand, which the other St looking thoroughly mystified. ** It’s not likely that we willever run in couples again, for which you are to be cragralulaiey as, no doubt, this gentleman will take pains to convince you. Go,” The pons man obeyed, ard as he left the room, Bloodgood turned once more to the ran- chero, saying; ** Are you satisfied? Am I still a fraud in your opinion “T can’t think—it’s all a dizzy whirl!” mut- tered the powerfully agitated man, sinking into the chair, bowing his head upon his bands. *‘ Go, now. Come back in one month, and I will an- swer you positively. I want to believe you, but I cannot!” and he struck the bell impulsively. When Pedro made his appearance, he was bidden show the man out and see that his horse was brought around. Bloodgood made no further delay. Time had ei more rapidly than he had realized, and e dreaded the appearance of the Ranger lieu- tenant, before he could fairly get away. Still wearing an uneasy look, the young man whom he had introduced as his brother, ac- companied him to where bis good horse was ee but Bloodgood spoke few words to bim. ‘ Tell him the story, precisely as you told it to me, and you'll come out on top of the heap. iy ae Bd off!” At the touch of the spur, the good horse dashed away, taking a course almost at right angles with that by which he had gained the ranch, Bloodgood casting occasional glances over his shoulder as he rode, An abrupt curse hissed through his grating teeth, as he caught sight of two men in the dis- tance, just rising a knoll. ‘*He saw atiny puff of smoke, and then a bul- let whistled past his ears, in uncomfortable proximity to them. } CHAPTER XI, WHO SHALL WEAR KING SAUL’S SHOES! In some respects, Spitfire Saul had shown himself a shrewd and crafty rascal, as well as a bold and reckless, particularly when he found himself close pressed by men who had sworn to cling to the trail while the gbost of a hope of ultimate success remained to cheer them. If all went well, when he made one of his. sudden swoops upon # ranch, he would pursue the usual course, making either for the moun- tains with his plunder, until its profitable dis- 1 could be effected, or else pushing straight or the border, beyond which he had sold the plunder before stealing. On the contrary, should bis carefully-laid pas misearry, and the pursuit grow too hot, 1e would abandon his horned plunder, and with the solid-hoofed portion, strike straight into the desert, bis trail gradually spreading out like the rays of an opened fan. There, with a lead of a few hours, he laughed all pursuit to defiance, for the action of the sun and the playing of the breeze over the dry sand, quickly obliterated the Hoh leaving those in pursuit to abandon the chase, or conduct it wholly at random, to in the end be driven back by the lack of water. More than one veteran Ranger had set out with the firm resolve to never return to his mates without solving the mystery. All knew that somewhere amid that sterile, sandy waste, must be both forage and water, but as yet all efforts to discover the secret rendezvous of the Rustlers who owned Spitfire Saul as their king had failed. Little marvel that such should be the case. Situated nearly in the center of the most sterile district, which even the desert-born and reared Indians themselves declared was utterly without water, was a curious freak of nature, in the shape of a “sink,” man did as direct- JOOKS (E (G(e) <€om oat * re - i» ™ Po :, B Yar‘ a ~ Eo