Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 241 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

< | — Both men nodded, but neither spoke. The Rustlers crowded around, éying first the wo- man, then the men, their glances finally riveted upon the curiously masked derringers., ‘‘ Before I state the conditions of the lottery,” added Queen Dixie, speaking as lightly and sweetly as though she was proposing some simple amusement, instead of pronouncing the death-doom of a fellow-being; ‘‘ you will sub- mit to being disarmed. Snapper Johnny, you will see that Lofty Dick is left without any weapons. And you, Appetite Dandy, oblige me by searching Buffalo Red.” It was evident to all that Queen Dixie had not selected her tools blindly, but meant that nothing should interfere with herscheme. And amurmur of approval ran around the circle. While each man had his favorite, they were ready to accept the decree of fate or chance, provided all was conducted on the square. ‘** Now, gentlemen,” added Queen Dixie, as the searchers fell back with the weapons taken from the persons of the rival candidates; ** to business. You see these pistols? They are tools selected for clean work at close quar- ters, by King Saul himself. Each one has but a single barrel. One is _ loaded, the other contains simply an empty car- tridge-shell, from which I have just extract- ed all but the cap. Yousee I have covered each muzzle with paper, to prevent your discovering how fate has favored you, by a sly glance down the short tube before you pull trigger. You can toss a coin for first choice—” ‘“‘ Age before beauty,” interruped Lofty Dick, with a short and hard laugh. ‘‘Give him the first pick, and he’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that he sealed his own doom.” “So be it!” echoed Queen Dixie, stepping to- ward Batfalo Red and extending the weapons. **Take your choice, my good fellow, and may fortune give you your just deserts.” Without looking at the weapons, the grim old Rustler thrust out his band and took the first derringer which met his grasp, then suffered the tool to hang by his side. ‘*The otber one falls to you, of course,” added Queen Dixie, turning to Lofty Dick. She stepped aside as he took the weapon, and spoke: Pe I pledge you both my word and honor that I bave not the ghost of an idea which one of you two holds the weapon with powder and ball in- =tead of the empty shell, nor do I care one far- thing. Thanks to ee own folly, one of you (must die, We will regret his fate when we ‘have more leisure time, ‘* Ail that remains for me is to explain the terms of the duel, and those are very simple. You will separate ten paces, and when I give the word you can fire or not, standing or ad- vaneing, according to pleasure; butif the nerve of either so fails him that be dares not pull trig- ger, the other shall be at liberty to shoot, or give him his life, as he thinks best, “To your stations. Are you ready? Then git thar, Eli!” For a single instant neither of the two men made a motion either to raise their weapons or to advance, and a black frown began to con- tract the brow of Queen Dixie; but this van- ished in a wicked smile, as Lofty Dick took a step in advance, promptly imitated by his grim rival. Wit pistols tightly grasped, but still hanging at their sides, the duelists slowly drew closer to- gether, until their feet almost touched each other, their eyes gazing steadily into each other, not a trace of fear to be detected in either coun- tenance, though neither knew which one fate had doomed to fall, unavenged. A more crucial ordeal could scarcely have been invented, and despite the intense interest with which they awaited the end, the Rustlers ave a Jow, husky mutter of grim approval. If he nerve and pluck of either man had ever been doubted, their conduct now would have dissi- pated all such forever. 5. Breast to breast they stood, not a visible trace of emotion to be read in either countenance, but with their eyes doing desperate battle, each one striving to cow the other and gain a prelimi- nary triumph; but this was time spent In vain. more superb exhibition of ‘‘ pure sand” was never witne : “Time!” impatiently cried Queen Dixie, as the duel of eyes gave no sign of coming to an end. “Are you both afraid to make another move?” Lofty Dick raised his pistol and rested its muzzle against the temple of his rival. Buffalo Red imitated his action, and thus they stood for a moment, their eves glaring into each other across the tubes. Then— At tbe muffled report, both men staggered back, and a wild cry arose from the Rustlers, as they fancied that, through some terrible mis- take, both duelists had met their death, But then Lofty Dick straightened up, with a short laugh, as he beheld Bu alo Red fall back- ward, his skull literally blown to atoms. Upon his own temple, there was a blackened circle, but it only came from the exploded rimer. “Long live Lofty Dick, King of the Rustlers, until our rightful sovereign returns!” cried ‘ ‘ Spitfire Saul, King of the ‘ —_— ee - Queen Dixie, waving a white handerchief over her head as she glided forward and clasped the successful candidate by the hand. *““Are you satisfied, gentlemen?” she added, turning sharply toward the Rustlers, who seemed stupefied by the result. Out rung the voice of Appetite Dandy, and quickly following came the others. was broken, forgotten. They had eyes, ears, tongues only for their newly elected chief, and flocking around him, were all eager to clasp bis hand, even those who had lost their last dollar in back- ing the dead man, ‘Enough of this!” said Queen Dixie, impa- tiently waving them aside, ‘‘ We have already lost too much time, when the life and liberty of King Saul may hang on the loss or gain of a single minute. Look to the corpse. Buffalo Red was a good man, and deserves an honest burial. Poor fellow!” with a low sigh, as she gazed regretfully down upon the horrid mutila- tion. ‘ldo not know but that bis fate is the most happy one, after all is said and done!” ‘No coubt you would prefer to see me lying in his place, uttered Lofty Dick, with a faintly disguised sneer. ‘‘I am sorry for your sake, even while rejeicing for my own, that fate played the good fellow such a scurvy trick—” *Encugh!” with a haughty air. ‘‘ Look to the body, men. You come with me, Lofty Dick, 1 wish to give you your orders, before I take the saddle again.” Gliding swiftly away, Queen Dixie passed around the sont! casting a single glance ovor her shoulder as though to make sure that the newly elected chief was following her, Neither spoke, until near the wall of earth at the base of the winding trail down which the Amazon had ridden half an hour before. Then she turned upon him, drawing something from the bosom of ber frilled shirt, and guardedly showing it to him.‘ ‘“Whatis that, Lofty Dick?’ she demanded, her voice bard and unnatural, her black eyes gleaming vividly, The handsome face of the dandy Rustler turned a shade paler, as he glanced first at the aers then into her eyes. t was a derringer, the exact copy of those which had been used in the duel, even to the bit of white paper fastened over the muzzle. Tearing off this paper, Queen Dixie chewed it to a pulp, then swallowed it. While thus oc- cupied, she broke the weapon and extracted a shell, holding it before Lofty Dick so that he could see it clearly, The ball and powder had been extracted without being discharged, for the primer was intact. ‘*'You begin to see into the mystery, you silly boy!” she uttered, with a low, sweet laugh as she threw away the empty shell and replace the pistol in her bosom. ‘Did you for a mo- ment imagine that I would suffer you to risk your life against that of Buffalo Red, good man though the poor devil undoubtedly was?” Lofty Dick looked into her face with a puz- zled air. ‘*But how? I don’t understand!” ‘*Simple enough, with one who owns fingers as nimble and adroit as mine. When I held out these weapons for Buffalo—” ‘*But suppose he had not accepted my pro- posal? Suppose we had tossed, and I lost, or won, the first choice?” With a soft laugh the woman drew a coin from her pocket. It closely resembled a twen- ty-dollar coin, but there was a head on both sides, instead of only one, ‘*You could not have won first choice, my dear. Had you called heads, I would have changed this coin for another, with tails on both sides. Now do you comprehend?” ‘That you meant Buffalo Red to bave first choice, but I was watching you closely, and I could swear that you gave me the second of the two pistols which you held out at first.” “Then you would perjure yourself, Dicky- boy. I made the pass, for all that, and the re- sult is that you are our chief—my king—” ‘*ntil that infernal Spitfire comes back!” muttered the dandy Rustler, with a savage scowl and grating curse, ‘* Which will never be, unless the grave gives up its dead—and I’ve little terror of ghosts!” uttered Queen Dixie, a bright smile playing over her lovely features. ‘‘Then itis true?’ eagerly asked Lofty Dick. ‘* All our plans worked well! He was captured —killed?” ‘The first, not the last. Nothing short of a rope can cut off his wind, or he would have turned toes-up without all this trouble and ag- gravation. He was taken by surprise, just as I plotted he should be, but his infernal luck still stood by him, though he received blows enough to killa dozen decent men. He was overpow- ered, and taken to town. They ep him into jail, and there he would be at this moment, only for me.” “What do you mean?” demanded Lofty Dick, his sree filled with a ae doubt, for _de- spite his wonderful courage, he feared this King aul, quite as much as he hated him. Queen Dixie made no immediate reply, for her restless eyes told her that there was danger Rustlers. The spell | For the moment Buffalo Red was | 17 of being overheard by the party of Rustlers who were SrenR peak bearing between them the corpse of luckless Buffalo Red, victim of shameless treachery on the part of one in whom he had ane the most unlimited confidence, holding himself ready to die in ber behalf, day or night, should the occasion ever arise. ‘The fools are coming to bury him by the side of his old mate,” she whispered, with a side glance toward a rude grave near the foot of the trail. ‘* We will go up to the top, and I will be seeming to show you your course, while we sa what we must, to have a perfect understand- be She led the way up the trail, pausing wken the level was reached, then seated herself so that she could command a full view of all be- low, motioning Lofty Dick to seat bimself beside her; but he refused, saying in explana- tion: ‘We must be more guarded. If the boys should suspect the truth, our lives would snuffed ou. as swiftly as was that of Buffalo Red. It’s a big stake we’re playing for, pet, and to win we must not throw away a card,” ‘You are right, Dick. Time enough for bil- ling and cooing when that devil is surely planted—” “Then he was not lynched?’ asked Lofty Dick, anxiously. ‘* Not when [left town, but the odds are all against his being alive now,” was the heartless response. ‘‘I played my part to perfection, and not a soul suspected me of being other than what I appeared on the surface: a Mexican, who had sworn to know no rest until the ruthless slayer of his brother and father was brought to the death-rope. Ha! ha! They little thought that it was Queen Dixie, wife of King Saul whom they had in their power, else there would have been a second rope knotted for my pretty throat—” He mn King Saul?” impatiently repeated Lofty ck, ‘Ts dead, long ere this, else there’s no virtue in gold. I poured it out like water, and set the fire, before Lleft. I thought it best to guard every point, and satisfied that they would be too late to effect anything, I hastened here to set the Rustlers afoot—” She paused abruptly, a look of horror comin over her face, as she pointed over the leve desert, hoarsely gasping: : : Merciful Jather! look yonder! We are’ ost | -—--——_— CHAPTER XIII. MORE TRIBULATION FOR GENTEEL GUY, WuHeEN he beheld the man who had so thor- oughly outwitted and overpowered him, riding away toward the, Debonay ranch, Genteel Guy almost suffocated with impotent rage and vain longings for vengeance, He had no room for feeling grateful to Dame Fortune for having cant his life in that lottery of death. If the thought occurred to him at all, it only served to deepen his fierce rage against Fred Blood- good, or Windy Jess, as he more firmly than ever believed that loquacious worthy. With savage fury he tugged at his bonds, vainly striving to burst or stretch them suffi- ciently to enable him to free his limbs, first his arms, then his feet. A moment’s reflection would have been sufficient to convince him of the folly of such hopes, for the lasso, tough, pliable, but unyielding, was wrapped in coils around his body, from his shoulders down to his ankles, the ends twisted and knotted to- gether with diabolical skill. Even had his hands been left at liberty, with the knots before his eyes and within easy reach, it would have been the work of many minutes for his un- armed fingers to untie those greased complica- tions; behind his back, it was impossible. But Genteel Guy was in no condition for rea- soning just then. Proud, high-spirited, enter- taining a way tidy idea of his address and keen- ness of wit, the thought of his easy defeat was worse than gall on his tongue, and it was not until he had almost utterly exhausted his bodily powers in wrestling with the unyieldin lasso, that he began to realize how very fool- ishly he was acting. Panting for breath, quivering in every fiber from his terrible struggle against fate, bathed in sweat as the blazing sun poured its rays upon him, the tall grass shutting off all of the feeble breeze, Genteel Guy lay between those two huge Jand-waves, in anything but an enviable state of mind. He knew now that his first suspicions were correct, that Fred Bloodgood was none other than the notorious Windy Jess, a prominent member of the Rustlers, and one of Spitfire Saul’s right-hand men. That he was in this region at all amply proved that he meant mis- chief, while the fact of his being in such cun- ning disguise, only increased the peril of those against whom he was plotting, while it lessened the chances of bis own detection before the blow which he contemplated was dealt. “Tf I was only free! If Mark Boyd would only strike the ranch before that cursed hound gets in his work! Id gladly give a hand to fail : <S m - COMIEDOOKS- Cor