Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 244 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

16 We were on our way to Fort Phantom Hill, where her uncle is stationed. His name is Cap- tain Florence. Do you know him?’ **Ya-as, I reckon I does! I hev guided his outfits o’ soger boyees, a heap o’ times, arter red piruts, An’ yer asserwates ther ’oman, what's bin tuck from ther stage, air a relation o’ ther captain’s?”’ ‘* Yes, be is her uncle—her father’s brother— but her father she has never seen; nor her mo- ther either, since infancy. *“*She has been the victim of misfortune and wrong, through Jife, and was induced by me to seek her uncle, that she might escape from one who has been planning to ruin ber for life. Little did we dream that we were hastening to still greater dangers. ** However, I will save her, or leave my bones on the border, Do you suppose that the Indians will torture her, or murder her at once? If so, my life will be spent in killing red-skins. Vil live only for vengeance!” : ““Thet’s bout ther way to talk hit, pard,” said the old scout. ‘‘ Es ter ther gal bein’ tor- tured, er slashed into kingdom come, hit won't be did at one’t, er they’d hed thar biz done ’fore they skuted up ther country. ‘“‘T bes a pard on ther trail arter her, an’ though he’s gut only one peeper, he’ll make thet do hefty biz, an’ watch out fer chances ter help ther oman ontel we j’ines him. What's yer handle?” ‘*My name is William Washburne. That of the lady is Flora Florence. But, tell me what Iam to do first. Where am I to procurea horse and arms?” **Dang’d ef I thought o’ thet!” exclaimed Old cky, in surprise and self-condemnation. ‘‘J swan ter Cristy, 1 war thinkin’ 0’ cuttin’ ’cross ter ther head o’ ther Clear Fork, strikin’ thar ahead o’ ther reds; but hit ’u’d bea soft thing ter’ t yer ter glide thar afoot. Come ter *member, my pard sent a red hellyun a-b’ilin’ offen this hyer yearth, back yonder, an’ he must ’a’ hed a nag hid in ther bush somewhar. ‘“*Reckon we-~uns hes got ter levant thet-a- way, an’ see what we kin see; though Single- Eye—thet’s my pard’s cog—will ’spect me ‘long Clear-Fork-way. ‘*Does yer s’pose yer kin keep a-straddle my critter by holdin’ on ter ther saddle-horn while we glides down crick, ter whar ther reds bed yer staked out las’ night?” “T must do something,” said Will; “I shall insane if I remain inactive. Sufferin though I am, I shall try to bear it, and do all can to follow the inhuman fiends. Oh, if I could only believe that my darling may be strong enough to bear up, under her dread and terrible condition!” With these words, making an almost super- buman effort, Will gras the overhanging limb of a tree, and managed gradually, after much agony, to regain the use of his muscles; the stiffness and numbness wearing off witha freer circulation. Before this, however, the old scout had crossed the stream, soon returning, leading his horse, and gens rejoiced at seeing the young man upon his feet. “'Thet’s ther way ter perceed, pard Will,” he said; ‘‘an’ I’m inclernated ter persume thet we'll make some o’ ther red heathen gi’n thar poneh vert afore we p’ints back towards ther stage- ail. ‘* But I reckon I'll be ’bleeged to gi’n yer one o’ my ‘sixes.’ Howsomever, I’m a boss knife- tosser, when [ gits my hyderpbobic up, an’ kin carve some on ’em, ’sides makin’ my t’other ‘six’ do double biz. Jist chuck a big feed o’ buffler-meat and corn pone inter yer stumjacket, an’ then we’ll skute towards sun-up-way ; though I hates ter stomp grass myself, bein’ allers used ter straddlin’ nags. But 1 reckon we'll pick up a critter somewbars.” “T hope so, indeed,” said the young man, as he to obey the old scout’s instructions in re to eating, but he found it difficult to do 80. The agon he had undergone, mentally and payee! y. ed all taste and longing for “Will you kindly reveal your name,” he now asked, ‘‘ to one who owes bis life to you?” “T’m knowed es‘ Old Rocky,’” said the scout; ‘a bard handle, which some folkses thinks kinder onproperit; fer my ole heart ain’t es hard es my name, by a jug-full.” “‘T should judge not, my friend; and I’m ex- tremely proud to owe my life to such a noted borderman, *T was told much about your daring bravery and frontier service while we were at Fort Belknap, and on the way to that post, by an army officer—Captain Williams, of the Eighth Infantry—and also much concerning Single- Eye, the pard you bave mentioned. It gives me great relief to learn from you that he is on the trail of the war-party. How I wish that Flora could know that he is watching for an opportunity to save her!” ! ‘He ain t ther sort o’ plate ter stan’ an’ see her tortured, even ef he hed ter take a run through ’em, plum erlone,” asserted Old Rocky, as he secured his saddle-bags and tricks in their places, and assisted Will into the saddle, the young man setting his teeth ashe did so, and — Merciless Mart. crushing down the agony that the movement occasioned, Clinging to the horn of the saddle, and feel- | ing that he was, each moment, regaining bis | | four feet from them. strength, and the use of his limbs, Will rode on, the old scout leadin the horse clear from the | timber, from which, in five minutes more, they | ‘passing up or down stream could see them. emerged, Thence they proceeded eastward, toward the | Race at which Old Rocky had parted from | ingle-Eye. It was about this very time that Mart Max- well and Rand Rogers rolled themselvesin their blankets, and lay down to court the drowsy god, after having inspected the deserted camp of the Comanches. There the two miscreants lay, but a little dis- tance from the ‘* wash-out,” in which the two scouts had taken refuge during tbe ** norther,” and which Old Rocky and Will Washburne now slowly approached, The former cautioned the young man, in a low tone, to be silent, fearing the very possible presence of some sneaking spies, sent back by the Comanches; but the caution, in Will’s case, was quite unnecessary. CHAPTER XIX. THE CAITIFFS CORRALED. “Ly fetch yer inter a cosey place,” said Old Rocky, reassuringly, to bis companion: ‘an’ then sashay ’roun’ ter see ef I kin find ther nag o’ thet dead hellyun, fer I’m ormighty sartain thet he warn’t calkerlatin’ ter frog hit ter ther Cl’ar Fork.” Will Washburne had no idea of hindering. or interfering with the old scoutin any way. Not only this; but he realized his own helplessness, and felt itkeenly. He had been placed hors du combat by the torture he had undergone at the hands of the Comanches, and, in addition, he was without a borse, and unarmed. Should his friend and preserver be unsuccess- ful in procuring a horse, Wili now felt that he must content to remain bebind, suffering enguish of mind, as well as body; which would be lost sight of, to a great extent, were he but in chase of the inhuman fiends who had Flora Florence in their power. While this painful thought possessed him, as he passed through a patch of moonlight, he caught sight of the tail of a horse, as it flew up- ward, as if whisking off flies. He was about to call out after Old ky, and reveal his dis- covery, when it suddenly occurred to him that ibly the horse belonged to some Indian, who inf verorned in search of the spy that had been killed. In any event, Will felt rejoiced that a horse could bere be secured for him; so, in silence, he leaned forward, regardless of the pain that he felt, and catching the lariat of the old scout’s steed near the neck, gave it a jerk. This caused Old Rocky, who held the opposite end in his hand, to halt, and look around him in surprise, ‘ He soon saw that Will had either discovered danger, or else bad been seized with such agony that a halt was necessary. As he reached the side of the young man, quickly and silently, Will whispered: ‘There is a horse, not fifty yards from our ition. I saw his tail in motion, in the moon- ght. ‘* Dang my cats!” said the old man, in aston- ishment. “Ef yer see’d a critter that-a-way, hit means mischief, dead sure an’ sartin; fer me an’ my pard war all ‘long thar, arter ther red war laid out cold. ‘Thar must be some sneakin’ red scum ’roved since I skuted arter yer. Jist slide offen ther nag, soon es I pit inter this hyer ‘ wash-out,’ an’ lay low ontil glides back.” 6 next moment the old scout made his way in the direction of the deserted Indian camp, moving stealthily; while the horse remained in the dark shadows, and Will was seated near the mouth of the gorge. The anxiety of the young man may be im- agined; for, should the old scout be slain, he, in bis helpless condition, would be butchered like a dog. With the utmost caution, crawling from thicket to thicket, Old Rocky made his way; and soon came to a point where, on the soft soil of the bottom, he could hear plainly the stamp- ing of horses’ hoofs. n a few moments, he was able to peep from a thicket, when he perceived two horses in the moonlight. The animals were fastened by lari- ats to bushes on either side of a small opening; and, to the great relief of the old scout, he saw at once that they did not belong to Indians, but to white men, as they were fine fresh stock—evi- dently half-breeds. The fact, that they were tied with grass ropes, was even more conclu- sive proof of this. But, another discovery awaited him. As he proceeded still further down-stream, Old Rocky perceived what he had really ex- pected. Two men, their saddles lying at some distance from them, were rolled in their blan- kets, and apparently in deep slumber. A moment’s reflection convinced him that the men whom-he saw were white, and moreover, that they were unaccustomed to frontier life; | i ee ee 8 mer ee decidedly green, and dangerously imprudent. This was obvious, from tbe fact that they did not use their saddles for pillows, and that their rifles were leaning against some bushes at least Men must be fresh on the frontier indeed, who would thus stake their animals where any one Vith this conclusion, came to the scout a suspi- cion that they. were not honest men. Had they been so, they would surely have goneinto Fort Phantom Hill, where they could have passed the night without any apprehension. This was pretty positive; and, most assuredly, they were neither scouts, rangers, nor rancheros, ¢ -# Without hesitancy, then, Old Rocky decided that he would appropriate one of the horses, —— the necessary equipments, for his new pard. There was ample excuse for this. To follow the Indian trail at once was imperative. The life of a young and lovely maiden depended upon haste in the matter; so the old scout was determined to lose no time. It was but a mo- ment’s work to secure the animal; and, to the great joy of Will, he at once led him to the ‘ wash-out,” saying as be came up: “Squat right hyer, pard, an’ keep yer gaze toward ther crick. I’m a-goin’ ter gi’n a couple o’ tenderfeet a stompede scare. Thar ain’t no reds ’round, er ther two gerloots would ha’ lost thar ha’r long ago.” He then disappeared before Will could say a word in reply. ‘ Leading the remaining horse over the stream, the old scout secreted the animal, and then crawled into the thicket where the two men slept. Creeping up stealtbily, he succeeded in removing the belt containing revolver and bowie-knife, from one of them, as it lay near his bead. This done, Old Rocky stole back some ten feet nearer the deserted lanier cam when, picking up a section of the dead limb o a tree, he threw it with great force into the thicket where the two men slept. As he did so, he gave out a series of yells; quickly after, cast- ing other pieces of deadwood in all directions, n terror and dread both sleepers bounded to their feet; Rand Rogers dashing up-stream as if all the fiends in Hades were pursuing him, cm Mart Maxwell, by no means slow to follow im. , The latter was but half-awake; and the yells and crashing among the bushes were painfully suggestive of Indians, So terrified were the pair that they did not notice that their horses were gone. At headlong speed they rushed past the mouth of the ‘‘ wash-out,” where Will crouched; both casting back glances of horror and dread. Their slumbers, owing to past fatigue, had been deep; and so sare and alarmingly: had they been awakened, that they were now be- wildered and overpowered with terror. This was increased by the recollection that they had laid down to sleep in the vicinity of a deserted Indian camp, and also their having stumbled upon the dead brave just gay gene to their doing so. Not the least doubt had they in re to the great peril that must now threaten them. They fully believed that a large force of Indians was rushing upon them; hence their headlong flight and utter forgetful- ness of their horses and arms, Up the stream, the two affrighted ruffians ran, and past the head of the ‘‘ wash-out,” where Will Washburne had been left by the old scout. As they thus dashed on, they sprung across revealed their a patch of moonlight which ines faces to the young man, who, at the com- mencement of the tumult, had crawled nearer to the mouth of the “ wash-out” for the pur- pose of inspecting the bottom timber down the creek, in order that he might, if possible, ascer- tain what had occurred. Following the crashing of the bushes, Will saw the two men bounding, as if for dear life, past the “ wash-out,” and up stream, directly through the patch of moonlight. He saw, and recognized! There could be no mistake, The fiendish face of Mart Maxwell was plainly revealed; and the unaccountable vision almost took Will’s breath away. Up through the undergrowth went the fugitive, at the heels of another; who, being a stranger, claimed the attention that had been caught by the sight of the Missouri miscreant. Will Washburne sunk backward, the most as- tonished man in Texas, The situation was easily explained. Beyond a doubt, Maxwell, upon arriving at Shreveport, and ascertaining the flight of his ward, had employed every means within his power to | trace the course she had taken; and with most astonishing success. , The presence of the villain on this remote border, well proved his desperate character, and his determination to carry out his infamous. lot. 5 His accomplice was, doubtless, the same man, Will inferred, with whom he had heard him conversing in New Orleans; and who, it had been arranged, was to marry Flora Florence, and thus secure for the pair, the remaining por- tion of her fortune, e Eomichbook (E Ss Col a