Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 245 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

a pe 3 Helen, as we will still call her, though that was a name merely assumed for her Western journeyings, saw that this was her last hope of escape; and, leaping from the carriage she took to the mountain side and ran on with the roughs in pursuit, Terror made her nearly insane, and long after the pursuit was abandoned, she sped along over the rocks; on, on, wildly, almost blindly, until a fall from the rocks nearly ended ber life and brought her under the care of Daddy Gray, as we bave seen, Doctor Mundee had listened to this long story witb painful interest, and as he had allowed certain hopes to possess him while acting as her physician, it was a severe blow when he learned that she was married. His nature was, however, a noble one and he put all selfish thoughts aside. “You have suffered a good deal,” he said, ‘*but from this hour you have two champions, hasn’t she, old friend?” Neither of the young people had been looking at Daddy Gray; neither had seen that he bad fallen into what seemed almost a doze; but he had aroused. abruptly now. ‘““Where was she, lad?’ he asked. “Ah! I remember; at the river, in the cabin where a man left a baby while he went for an hour to look at the river scenery. Now, do you know, it seems as though J know something about this matter?” ‘““You, Daddy?” ‘‘-Yes: for I can see that cabin, and the wo- man, and the little girl. I believe I knew the man, too, but when I try to place him my head whirls, { almost get the idea, and then it slips away. What did you do with the watch-chain he gave you as a plaything while he was gone?” elen’s eyes opened widely. “You know of the chain—you ?” she cried. ‘Why, how is this? Ihave not mentioned that there was a chain, but there was, and given as rou say.” ‘By my life!” cried Mundee, “‘ here is a clew at last. Gray, Gray, you are the man who left the girl-baby at the cabin and you must be—” The old man put out his hands. “No, no; it can’t be,” he said. name was not Dagey. Gray.” ** And yours is not Dad Bi A “Why, so it isn’t, but what ts it, then? Iam all mixed up and lost, and my head goes round and round,’ He pressed his hand over his head with such painful confusion that tears came to Helen’s eyes, but Mundee’s expression grew more reso- lute. He had a suspicion in his mind which even the girl had not yet grasped. ‘‘ Daddy,” he said, earnestly, “‘ I beg that you will no longer delay the operation which we have planned. I am firm in the belief that a little skilled treatment is all that is necessary to restore to you your memory. The opinion of your fellow-miners to the con notwith- standing, I tell you that you have at some time received a blow on your head which has dis- arranged the bones, and left a portion pressing on the brain. Such things are by no means rare in surgery. and as I have said before, I believe I can bring you through all right.” “Well, doctor, you shall have the chance,” the old man answering once more, as composed and gentle as he always was when he made no effort to think, ‘‘Ilf you can give me a new head, I want it.” Mundee prom tly arose, and went to his case of tools; but Helen’s face grew troubled, _ “Ts there not danger in this operation?’ she “That man’s asked, ‘* Not when skillfull M conducted. Believe me, I shall do nothing which can possibly injure our old friend.” Ny ‘*Y have grown strangely interested in him since he spoke of that chain. Surely, doc- tor, he knows something of that affair at the cottage. Can he be the man who left me bb nT eat easy, and you shall soon know, I am about to give back to Daddy Gray his past.” With these words he approached the old man, —_—_—_—_—_e CHAPTER XXXVIII, THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. WHEN Horace Lincoln deserted the Weepin Willows it was with a full consciousness tha his day of success was forever gore, so far as Comet Camp was concerned, He had clung to the idea of compelling Vivian to become his wife, and thus pouring at his feet the wealth of Cephas Brown, but when he knew the old den was attacker by the citizens he thought only of saving his life. With the prospect of another lynching affair at hand_ he entirely forgot Vivian. Nor was Hecate reluctant to take part in his flight. Reading with her usual judgment the fact that this was no ordinary uprising, and that the Weeping Willows was doomed, she only paused to summon Luke Gridley, and then effected her escape. Horace, on tis part, glided through the village with the cowardly air of @ sneakin coyote, took to the hills, and hastened on at speed until hless, | ee ae Barranca Bill, the Re elevated place, and look Debouching from a can ally gained a more ack. The Weeping Willows was oue sheet of flame, and on the air the shouts of the miners arose to tell how dangerous it would be to return. He was practically an exile. We need not dwell on the events of the next two days. He remained in a small cave—a mere hole in the rocks—nearly all the time, and his only food was some fragments of bread he chanced to find where they had been cast by some previous camper. His hunger became intolerable and he re- solved to seek food at any risk. He had ob- served a cabin on the mountain side which seemed to hang like an egg-shell in mid-air, and to this he resolved to go, trusting to luck, and gain food, Then, with his strength renewed, he would venture a midnight flight from the vicinity. He started for the cabin, but not more than half the distance had been traveled when a shout arose behind him. He looked around. A dozen men, with picks on their shoulders, had paused to look at him, as their path crossed his, and he recognized several men of Ramrod Bar, ** Paul Pindar! That is Paul Pindar!” The cry terrified the miserable wretch and he took to his heels and sped along the mountain. His crimes were bearing him down and he had not the moral bravery to breast the tide. The miners did not hesitate; down went their picks and then they tore along tbe mountain. A desperate race was begun; a race for life. Horace ran with all his speed, but when a hundred yards bad been traversed he saw that his pursuers, strong and sure-footed, were run- ning him down. Still he went on, wildly, desperately. He be- gan to pant, the perspiration rolled from his face and his aspect was as wild as that of a mad- man. Instinctively he had kept the cabin in view when running, and as he clearly saw that he could not outstrip bis pursuers he resolved to apply there for protection. Just how this was to be given against a dozen men he did not pause to reflect. Reaching the place he sprung through the half-open door and stood looking wildly about, | A sea of red seemed before him and it was not until he had brushed his hands before bis eyes, while his breath came in great gasps, that he saw a woman in a chair, He flung himself on his knees at her feet. ‘““Save me!” he cried, wildly, lifting his hands; ‘‘for Heaven’s sake, save me! am ursued by men, human fiends, who seek my life. save me! save me!” There was no reply, and in an agony of cow- ardly fear he dropped lower and lower and kissed the hem of her dress as a dog seeks a favor of his master. ‘* Donald !” The single word was enough to bring his bead uickly up and he looked wildly atthe pale ace before him. Then he sprung to his feet, clasped both hands to his head and recoiled as from a specter. ‘* Agatha!” he whispered, hoarsely. Yos, it was Agatha—Helen Neville: and thus the husband and wife met after many months. It wasa oa freak of fate which led the guilty man to kiss the hem of the dress of the woman he had wronged. Doctor Mundee, who-had been seated a little at one side, arose and gazed with a face almost as pale as that of the woman who was thus be- tween the husband who scorned her and the man who loved her so cot ee od : Helen was herself very pale, but the nature of the case somehow gave her a courage not to be expected, ** Yes, it is I,” she said, almostcalmly. ‘* What have you to say, Donald?” A shout down the gulch aroused the miserable man to a sense of his peril. His enemies were pore a hand, and he hovered betweéen life and eath. “I bave this to say,” he cried, “‘ that we were separated by a base plot. I love you still, de- votedly, passionately. Oh, Agatha! believe in meand save me, Bloodthirsty enemies are on my track, and my life is lost if they find me,” Helen stood in irresolution. Tv the innerroom Daddy Gray slept deeply after the operation performed on him by Mundee; a sleep very much like her own, since he would awake of sound mind or a confessedly hopeless case; and there Donald could be placed, though the little room would be noconcealment if the other men should enter. A louder, clearer shout showed that they were at the door, Doctor Mundee started. The temptation of his life was before him, If the men should carry out their purpose and lynch Donald Lander there would be no obstacle between him and the woman he loved. Why should he not stand idly and see them work their will? For one moment he hesitated, wavered, fought with temptation; then with a ringing step he strode to the door. He met the lynchers at the threshold. Stop!” he said firmly, placing bis hand on volver Chanipion. 99 ‘* You can- the shoulder of the foremost man. not enter here!” His voice and his manner were so potent that all paused, but they did not forget their errand. ‘*But see hyar, boss, we don’t mean an harm. We ain’t after you, an’ we won’t distur the cabin. All we want is Paul Pindar.” ‘“There is no Paul Pindar here.” ‘But we see’d bim enter; he must be byar. Look ye, we are on the squar’, and we b’long ter Ramrod Bar, Call Daddy Gray an’ let him hey ther floor.” “ Daddy Gray is ill) and if arotised from his resent slumber may die. Go back, men, go yack; leave me with your old friend. Don’t you know me? Iam Doctor Mundee.” The lynchers hesitated, but just then several more men appeared to view, with Gentle John at their head and Bad Lung trailing in the rear like the tail of a comet ‘Hello, bhyar!” said the former, genially: “thar seems ter be a meetin’ o’ some sort in progress. Mebbe you'll let me inter ther alley?’ ‘Paul Pindar is inside, an’ we’re goin’ ter hev him,” said a burly miner. ‘“‘Paul Pindar? Wal, 7 want him, too, an’ ez I’m deputy sheriff 0’ Comet Camp I reckon you won't kick ag’in’ my takin’ him.” : At this moment Bad Lung plucked at John’s sleeve. ‘* Plaul Plindar gitee out through roofee,” said. the Celestial, poin ing upward, Gentle John’s revolver darted from his belt, “Stay right whar you be,” he said, sharply. ‘* Pye got ye lined, Paul Pindar, an’ ef ye knows when ye are sound on ther goose you’ll come ter tarms.” Aided by Helen, Horace Linco!n had improved the delay secured by Mundee to attempt es- cape by way of the roof but Bad Lung’s eyes had been too keen and with the turning of Gen- tle John’s revolver his last hope was gone. Inclination or terror caused him to release bis hold and drop inside the cabin, and when John bounded nectar the door he found him sense- less from a collision with a chair against which. his head bad struck. Gentle John took possession of him in the name of the law, and the men of Ramrod Bar Aree ee their claim when they saw the situ- ation Mundee went to the side of Helen who was. stoically calm. wee Bear witness,” he said, **that I tried tosave m. She though ‘You did, and'you’are brave and noble. May all blessings be yours.” “Ef I may raise my tuneful voice,” said Gen- tle Jobn, “ I'd ask ef ye remember me,” ‘“* I do, indeed,” said Helen. ‘* You were my guide on the night of the riot and you were faithful.” John had come to the cabin because he had heard of the mysterious female patient and hoped it was Helen, That part bad resulted as. he wished, but he was not 80 sure about Horace. He doubted if Barranca Bill would approve of the arrest, but for his own part he wanted to take tne man to Cephas Brown's. At Helen’s last word the inner door opened and Daddy Gray came forth, but on his face was an intelligence long unknown to if, CHAPTER XXXIX. CEPHAS BROWN HAS VISITORS, THe Honorable Mr. Brown was far from be- ing a happy man, despite the wealth with which he was surrounded: As’ Vivian had sus- pected, he was playing a game in introducing Agatha, the Cricket, into bis house. ‘Not one drop of his blood flowed in her veins, and he had such good reason to apprehend that certain persons in Comet Camp would understand that something was — that, after several vain attempts to get rid of these persons, he decided that he had better take his family and leave the town for awhile, 1 Accordingly, preparations secretly began the day after the burning of the Weeping Willow while by his directions Agatha kept out-+o ore her hand, surmising more than he { ‘ sight. We would have ‘been still more alarmed had \s he known what she had concealed from bim; that she had encountered, as she believed, one who knew all about ot life. And Agatha, the Cricket, who would have hired an assassin had she known to whom to spply, watched each hour for the coming of Ben arren, Vivian had seen Barranca Bill once after the fire, and when he declared that if Abe Neal’s story was true they would soon have proof that the Cricket was the child of Flint, the 'Forty- niner, she felt that she bad then an ally upon whom she could safely lean. Barranca Bill, on his part, kept his eyes wide open for Abe Neal. That man bad been brought out of the burning house on a blanket, but, the moment he was free from scrutiny, had silently gone away. Since then he had not been seen. All the ‘‘ Lambs” except the captured and dead had vanished in the same fashion, and the crooked form of Hecate, the Witch, was no longer seen in the streets. & com (C (E JOO (0) af