Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 241 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

sie: re aan judge from his face, bis voice, his carriage, a ee, ‘Spitfire Saul, King of the Rustlers. Ore eer Spitfire Saul, KING OF THE RUSTLERS; the wall. The chain was long enough for bim to stand erect, to take a pace or two from the wall, to lie down at full length, but too short for him to reach either corner of the room or its center, Doc Strader grinned grimly. OR, tes a mighty noses ho vo ov 9a Cir << a ” ou wouldn’t step outside ef I was to knock o Queen Dixie’s Grand “Round-Up.” | them darbies, would ye? Wouldn't knock out ; , ates. ' my brains, ef I was to give ye a openin’—oh, ‘BY JOS. E. BADGER, JR., ‘no! That ain’t your sort! Yow never did _nothin’ wrong! You ain’t Spitfire Saul, the biggest cattle-thief an’ wust road agent in seventeen States! You bain’t got more blood on AUTHOR OF ‘‘THE OLD BOY OF TOMBSTONE,” ‘*REVOLVER ROB,” ‘OLD 749,” *' Jo- AQUIN, THE SADDLE KING,” ETC., ETC. your han’s then would sink a bull poe sO deep in Tophet that the Old Boy himself couldn’t CHAPTER L find ’em without soundin’ with a deep-sea line! Somebody else! Waal, jest to make you relish that chuck a bit better, take this pinch o’ sea- sonin’; afore the sun goes down, you’ll pull hemp fer that very critter, whether you’re Spitfire Saul, or a angel!” ‘‘ Indeed!” with a low, careless laugh, as he tore the wae meat on the tin plate to bits with his manacled hands. ‘‘ Bring your wife to see the circus, old man, and she'll tell you that she’s just learned the difference between a man and a baboon. I don’t brag much on my morals, but I'm Sgn capil of my good looks!” ‘That sounds spunky, but I’ve hearn jest sech talk afore now. Mighty brave they was, long’s the rope was out o’ sight, but when it come danglin’ afore their eyes, when they hearn the roar o’ voices, all singin’ the tune o' blood fer blood; wben they felt the hemp closin’ ’round thar thrapples an’ shettin’ off thar wind —then they wilted, jest as yowll wilt an’ cry an’ beg fer marcy—’ Strader’s voice choked, his face growing pur- ple, his eyes growing blood-sbot and almost starting from bis bead, his stumpy fingers work- ing convulsively as though itching toclose upon the throat of the man opposite and perform the duty of the hangman’s rope. The careless sneer vanished from the face of King Saul. Until now, he had believed the talk of his guard empty sound, but now he began to think different. For a moment he gazed fixedly into his face, then resumed his dinner, with affected careless- ness, saying: ‘*May I never want bite nor sup until that day comes! Trying comes before hanging, howadays—” KING SAUL IN DURANCE VILE. ‘*You’RE gittin’ too mighty ’tic’lar fer a man in your condish, my covey! Don’t make a mite o’ difference to me whether you eat or not. It’s On’y a waste o’ good grub, anyhow, Ill never putt no fat onto your ribs. Jest make it harder on the boys, an’ take a’ extry kink out the rope!” A surly growl, from an ill-favored specimen of humanity, who punctuated his short, crisp sentences with smoke-puffs from a most villain- ously scented pipe, addressed to a man who oc: cupied the furth:r extremity of the little, poorly-lighted room; a man in contrast with whom he appeared as a satyr to Hyperion. Without, the sun was blazing fiercely down from the zenith, heating the atmosphere until all inanimats objects subjected to ifs direct rays, seemed afflicted with an ague-chill as they quivered and danced amid the refraeted rays of heat, The Hght was painfully brilliant, but little of it came into that close, disagreeably scented room, There was only one opening in the apartment, .besides the barred door; a small, oblong slit in the thick adobe walls, ren- dered still more secure by stout iron bars, welded together where they crossed at right angles. Squatting on a low stool, his body humped over, his elbows resting on his knees, his black, hairy hands toying with a huge revolver, sul- lenly eying the man beyond, was the speaker. Not a handsome man was Doe Strader. To amore utter villain never trod the footstool. Also upon a stool, sat his opposite, forming a ‘ striking contrast, for it might with truth be ‘*You’ve already bin tried all you'll git, ’cept said that they were opposites in every sense of | to see how snug a rope ’il fit your neck,” witha the word, save one: both were endowed with a | hard laugh. more than ordinary supply of animal coreg: ‘Look here, old man; what do you mean?” Tall, elegantly shaped, combining wonderful ‘Jest this; The boys is tired o’ ketchin’ strength with great activity; broad shoulders, | thieves an’ ’sassins fer the lawyers to turn loose “chine swelling chest, tapering to a small, yet | ag’in. They’ve got to draw the line some’rs, an powerful waist; long limbs, porecty shaped, | they’ve ’cluded to draw it at you—an’ draw ib but with the muscles of a gladiator; hands and | round your throat so almighty tight that you feet small, shapely, white, and seemingly soft | won’t never complain o’ the job!” } as those of a woman. “In other words, they’re talking up a lynch- A leonine head, bearing a. wealth of corn- | ing picnic?’ colored hair, fine, silken, curling in little rings “The talkin’s past an’ done with. They’re over his high, white forehead, falling in careless | all ready to act,” said Strader grimly. ‘* Mebbe locks upon his shoulders and down his back, <A | you'll bev time to finish that grub; mebbe you beard of the same hue, forking in the middle as | won’t. Anyway, I’m open to give hefty odds it reached his bosom, covering all bis face save | that you'll be cold meat long afore the sun sets the nose, long and straight, with thin, sensitive | this evenin’!” nostrils, the eyes large and brilliant, blue as the | King Saul saw that he was speaking the plain sky of midsummer, and the forehead. His bair | truth, and his countenance changed. Let a was parted in the middle, crossed near the | man be the bravest of the brave, and he cannot crown by a bloody gash that had laid the bone | meet death in such a shape without his blood ba | chilling and his nerve weakening when first brought beneath the shadow of the rope. Still more reason when one is manacled hand and foot, wholly helpless. Peas ‘* Look here, old man, are you giving it to me straight?” be asked seriously, “Straight as though you was a angel, ’stead of a devil,” was the prompt response. ‘* You'll pull hemp, sure!” “*T was oe a fair trial. I deny being the man they call me. Vm an“honest gentle- man—” ‘““Tophet’s full o jest sech gents!” rudely broke 1n the guard, the long-smoldering fire in his heavy eyes bursting into full blaze. ‘‘ You cain’t pull the wool over my eyes, with your slick talk. I know ye. You're Spitfire Saul. You’ve killed an’ stole an’ run off cattle tell the very stones in the bills cry out ag’inst ye. Every minit that Pve bin keepin’ watch over ye, hes bin a powerful temptation to me—some- thin’ keeps a-whisperin’ to me to blow your p’izen brains ont—an’ I'd ’a’ done it long afore now, ef I hedn’t knowed that the boys meant to make sure work o’ ye afore the lawyer-men could snake ye out o’ limbo.” Doe Strader stopped abruptly, and struck a match to relight the pipe which had gone out during his hot, excited speech. His hands trembled like those of a man suffering with palsy. A far less acute observer than King Saul would have been convinced that he was speaking nothing save the truth. An ugly light flashed into the blue eyes, but it bad vanished before the guard looked up again, and the prisoner was once more the care- less, reckless dare-devil. ‘““You’re very kind and thoughtful, old fel- low, not to spoil the sport of the boys, I sup: pose you’re fond of such fun?” ; Ss re. His garb was of fine broadcloth and finer linen, though both bore traces of hard usage, being rent, and stained with dust and blood- spots. Pri bore no weapons. Instead, upon his wrists were stout handcuffs, connected by a short chain. Around each ankle was a heavy iron band, a chain from each leading up to an iron belt which was locked around his waist. Few men, if strangers to them both, but would have believed the positions should be reversed; that Doe Strader should bave borne the chains instead of occupying the position of uard over the other. His face seemed to stamp m as a brutal criminal. Instead, he was a man honest and true, Rough in speech, maybe, when the oceasion seemed to call for barshness; a lover of justice itself, rather than its empt forms; but a faithful friend, a loving husband, and kind father. ‘ The Soe IN Saul, as he chose to call him- self: Spitfire Saul, King of the Rustlers, as he was even more widely known—looked the demi- od. What be really was, it is the province of his story to narrate. <i A low, musical laugh parted his lips until bis white teeth glimmered in that dim light through the silken mustaches, but there was an un- pleasaut sneer in his voice as he spoke: **] was not fool enough to expect a different answer, sol am not disappointed, old man. It was worth the trouble of asking, though, just to see how you tremble in your boots at the mere idea of setting my hands free to eat in comfort. And with this chain holding me to the wall—bah !” Turning his head, King Saul glanced at the massive Hinks which were fastened to his iron belt behind, then secured to a strong staple in i ——— v Hie! f “a A ! J ‘ aM 5 CC lt COeee eee — = = a ewe eee es ‘I will be when it’s you that’s kickin’ the air!” “Thanks! Ill putin a few extra touches of the light fantastic, just to amuse you, if I don’t forget,” with a sbort laugh. ‘ But if you are fond of fun—and you look as though you were chuck-full of it—let me tell you how you can get askin full. Just lend me one of your pop- uns, and then stand aside when the boys come, f course they’ll get the best of me in the end, but I'll make it lively for them while my wind holds out. You'll think a he-old brass band bas broken loose. ‘Come; what do you say? Give a fellow one chance for his life. You won’t sleep any the worse for it, when your turn comes for croak- ing.” & Reckon I’m a durn fool?’ indignantly snorted Strader. “ Not a bit of it, old fellow,” and King Saul threw all of his wondrous personal maguetism into his voice and gaze as hespoke. ‘ The man who tries to buy you for a fool will waste both time and money. What I do take you for is this: a man too white to see a fellow-being dragged to death by a howling, unreasonivg ia without being given a single chance for ife. ** Mind you, I ain’t ee you to fight for me, though you were placed here as guard for that very purpose, if the occasion should ever arise. They are your friends, Maybe some of your relatives are among them, I don’t ask you to fight, but I do ask you, as a white man, to give mea revolver when we hear them coming, that I may die fighting, not like a dog—” When King Ssul began, his tone bad been bard and sneering. He had no bopes of his request being complied with. But bis voice grew more and more earnest as he proceeded, until all pretense was cast aside, and he was pleading for his life with swift, earnest utter- ance, Only to stop short as Doc Strader knocked back the brim of his slouched hat, re- vealing a face that-was full of mingled triumph and intense hatred. ** You're beggin’ to me—beggin’ fer your life like a cowardly coyote ketched in the trap! swore that the day should come, aw’ I knowed that this was the one, but I didn’t look fer the words afore the boys come with the rope. Marcy you want? A chaince fer your life? Say it over ag’in!” King Saul stared at him luridly, but not a sound escaped bis lips, The brief weakness was past, and he was once more himself, outwardly ere and hard, but with a volcano blazing in- side. ‘*You wo ’t? But it don’t matter,” added Strader, with a low, growling laugh that was far more ferocious than mirthful. ‘* You’ve begged, an’ to me! I'd ’a’ chopped off in right han’ ruther then miss them words! Shell I tell ye why?” He paused for a reply, but King Saul made none. He turned his whole attention to the food in the dish that still rested upon his knees, devouring the coarse viands with a relish that told of a hearty appetite. Strader was tvo intensely excited to be daunted by this. The fierce words which had been struggling for utterance ever since King Saul was brought here a prisoner, must find a vent, or be would suffocate. ‘* Shell I teli ye? ’Ca’se of my little brother which you butchered! On’y a boy. Hardly big an’ old enough to leave bis mammy’s spron- string. Yit you killed him—butchered bim like he was a sheep stealin’ cur—hung bim by the neck, though be begged of you to let him die like a man, with his eyes open an’ by a bullet! He begged, but it wasn’t fer life. “On’y a boy, mind ye. Youcould still smell the mother’s milk on his breath, Yit be fit you an’ your gang outel it looked like he’d whip the bull kit single-handed, an’ only give in when bis last bit o’ lead was shot away, an’ thar was Lafe a dozen holes clean through him. ‘‘ He was so bad hurt that he’d’a’ died, any- way, but you wasn’t content with that. One o’ his bullets hed drawed your bloo, an’ you swore that he should die the dog’s death, You laughed at an’ cussed him when he begged—not fer life, mind_ye—an’ slapped his bloody lips with your dirty foot while your hell-bounds were fixin’ the lariat!” Choking with emotion, Doc Strader rose erect, one hairy hand clutching at his shirt-collar, as though for more air, Coolly, mockingly King Saul watched him, and there was not the slightest trace of emotion in his tones as he spoke: “So that young cub was your brother? He was gritty. I’ve thought of the little rascal more than once since then, and almost felt sorry that I was so.hasty. He would bave made a prime Rustler, with such training as I could give him,” _ Doc Strader made aswift gesture that knock- ed the bowl of bis pipe from its stem, falling to the floor and aire: half-way between him and the prisoner. His band dropped upon the butt of a revolver, and for a moment the life of the captive. depended upon a hair; but then the guard recovered from kis temporary insanity, shaking bis shaggy head with a grim, hard, merciless laugh. i comicbooks.con