Beadle's Dime Library No. 247 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

ae ee ee —-——--- had dragged me to him by the wrist; had thrown my revolver into bis boat, and growled out triumphantly: ‘ You’re a blank of a smart Yank! Now you’re my prisoner.’ And so I was. Hello, what’s that?’ As he spoke they heard the sound of a voice from the mainland below hailing: ** Light-house, ahoy-oy-oy !” | CHAPTER XIII. THE ATTACK ON THE LIGHT-HOUSE. JULIAN GREY was annoyed by the hail, for he was just beginning to be interested in the story of the keeper. “Let them shout,” he said, pettishly. ‘‘ You finish the story. They can wait.” Stevens shook his head as he rose. ‘You don’t know,” he said. “I’ve reasons to obey these men. I must go outside. Hark!” Crack! went a rifle outside, and the bullet went singing over the light-house, while Stevens ran out on the balcony, calling down: ** Don’t be in such a hurry there, !m coming as fast as I can.” “Then come quicker, darn your Uncle Sam’s buttons!” called out a voice below. ‘* We’uns and you-’uns ain’t got no need to palaver so long.” Julian thought he recognized the voice of Al- ligator Ike in the reply; but that might have only been on account of the story he had just listened to. Whoever it was, Stevens answered down in a tone that showed some anger: “Well, what do you want, now you’re here?” ** Who came to see you this evening?” shouted the distant voice. ‘*No one who has any business with torted Stevens. North.” ** What’s his name?” cried the voice, ** James Brown,” cried Stevens, ‘*-You lie!” roared the voice below, and with that ‘‘piow” came a bullet close to Stevens’s head, at which the keeper instantly ran into the lantern, looking pale and angry. ' ‘It’s no use,” he said, hurriedly; ‘‘I’ve tried to keep the peace, but they won’t have it. I’m ne ow’re here for a witness to it, We've got ght. ** But why, why? what for? what’s the mat- ter?” asked Julian, bewildered. ‘‘ Who are ee men, and what do they want?” ou,” re- ‘It’s a gentleman from the ‘You'll find out before morning,” said Ste- vens, gloomily. ‘‘I’m afraid they want you; but they shall not have you while I’m alive to help you, that’s certain. Come down-stairs. We shall have to barricade securely. lm afraid your boat will be gone to-morrow.” *‘ But who are these men?’ asked Julian, as they hurriedly descended the stair. ‘The wreckers, the pirates, the villains,” said Stevens burriedly. ‘‘The Government people won't believe it, till it’s too late. Comeon.” As they descended, they heard the clang of bars and bolts, as old Uncle Joe, who had been roused from a doze by the shots, hastily secured the door of the cabin below. When they at last got down to the lower house, bowever, all was still outside for some time, and Stevens motioned to Julian to get his rifle ready, whispering: ‘** There’s a good moon outside. I can fire as well as ever through a loop-hole. Don’t wait to be but shoot the first nan you see.” hen Julian, trembling with excitement, for it was the first time he had ever been in a position to meet angry men with deadly weapons, saw old Uncle Joe drag a tall office stool to the side of the thick stone wall, and open one of the bull’s-eyes, through which he poked out a Rem- ington rifle, of the coarse pattern furnished the common sailors of the navy. Stevens took another and pointed a third lace to Julian, when the three men peeped out to the moonlight through the little bull’s-eye _ holes, and commanded a view of the rocky path that led up from the inside channel. There, in the channel, to Julian’s dismay, was a scow loaded with men, on whom the moon ant glanced, showing that all carried . Trifles of some kind, and were dressed in gray and brown. Remembering what Stevens had said, he leveled his rifle and fired straight into the boat, the shot pelng replied to by a yell so shrill that he thought the men must be boys. Then the scow moved forward more rapidly, and he saw 1 the occupants come running up the path like mad as he fired again. The second shot was replied to by a second yo, even shriller than the first, and a perfect mpest of bullets rattled on the door of the little hut and against the walls, splintering the soft coquina rock and sending fragments in aft the bull’s-eyes, just as Stevens and old Joe fired together. hen, through the smoke, Julian saw the ghostly gray figures dash up to the hut, and in another moment they were out of sight under the round bull’s-eyes, while blows began to thunder on the door outside, out of range of the es. Stevens jumped down from his post and Alligator Ike. ee “Into the tower. They’ll soon break down this door, but the other will defy them.” The three men caught up a box of ammuni- tion and their rifles and bolted for the inside door of the tower, just as the blows outside be- came deafening and the wood began to crack. Once inside they slammed to a hugeiron door of four or five thicknesses, the same as one made for a safe, and Stevens remarked with a grim smile, as he blew the smoke from his rifle: ‘‘Now Johnny Reb can shoot away, all he likes. J’U have something to say.” The closing of the door, which shut fast with a spring, bad the effect of cutting off the din without almost entirely. They could hear the sounds of blows, muffled by the thick walls, till they resembled the tapping of wood-peckers, but that was all. Then Stevens pointed out a flight of steps in- side the tower, which led to a ledge, at the top of which was a line of Ls a ee The three defenders took their position on the ledge and commanded, from the loop-holes, a view of the cabin. As yet it was empty, but they could hear the crashing of blows on the outer door, and Stevens whispered: ‘*They’re coming in. any one.” A moment later, the outer door fell, anda crowd of gray figures darted in, when the three defenders fired together, saw a man drop, and heard a second rattling volley. One bullet came in at a loop-hole, just missing Julian’s head, and the young man started to one side, a proceeding which drew from Uncle Joe a chuckle and the remark: ‘‘Dat was a close call, honey. Nebber mind. A miss, good’s ten mile.” Then Julian looked through the loop-hole again, and saw that all the lights in the cabin had been extinguished, while he heard the sound of oaths and savage execrations, as the assailants crowded round the iron door, out of range of the loop-holes. Then followed a dead silence for nearly a minute, when some one outside shouted: ‘* Hello, Yanks inside there! Hello!” * What do you want?” cried Stevens. ““ We want that young feller from the North,” cried back the voice. ‘‘ He’sa spy, come after us, and we’re going to bave him. ‘He is my guest, I’m in charge of this light- house, and you can’t have him,” said Stevens firmly. ‘I warn you that if you persist in at- tacking this light-house, you’ll bring on yourself the vengeance of the Government—” He was interrupted by a burst of laughter. ‘* Government be darned! What do we keer for tbe Government?’ shouted a voice in the darkness. ‘Open that door, or we'll blow it in.” ‘“You can kill us all,” retorted Stevens, “ but ou can’t hide the deed. This goats man be- ongs toa good family in tbe North, and kis people will come after bim. You’ve hidden your tracks for all these pears, but you can’t hide them forever, and thfs time you'll be found out—” He was interrupted again by a rude laugh, and the same voice shouted: ‘““We’ve been found out too often, Stevens. We've got the whip-hand of you in Wasbington and you know it. Come, you’d better give up the boy tous. We won’t burt bim.” ‘Why do you want him?” cried Stevens. ‘Jest to see he don’t go explorin’, like you did,” said the voice. ‘‘We don’t want to kill him, but he’s got to swear or die.” “You can’t have him,” cried Stevens. ‘‘ He’s my guest, and you'll have to kill us all, or none.” : Julian Grey, who had listened to this collo- quy, here shouted through the loop-hole: “ Hollo! Alligator Ike, hollo!” There was a dead silence instantly, and no one answered the hail. Julian repeated it, for he felt sure he kad rec- ognized the voice of Alligator Ike, and instantly a flash of fire was followed by a bullet which entered the loop-hole obliquely, ricochetted off the stone, knocking the splinters into Julian’s face, nearly sow ag him, and effectually curing him of any further idea of hailing Alligator Ike. The pain of one of the splinters, striking him over the left eye, forced a cry from him, and he missed bis footing and fell off the ledge down the steps, when in a moment Stevens hurried Fire as soon as you see down him, saying, in a low and anxious tone: ** Are ye hurt bad?” “Not much,” answered Julian; ‘bat I fear I’m almost blinded.” = Keep still,” said Stevensin thesame guarded tone. “Ill swear you’re dead, and maybe they'll go off.” Then he sprung up to the ledge and called out: ““You’ve done it now, boys. You've killed that poor young fellow. God forgive you for it. He neyer did you any harm.” “Are ye sure he’s dead?” cried the voice of Alligator Ike. “ Are ye quite sure?” . course I am. He’s as dead as a door- nail,” was the ready reply. ‘‘Got the bullet in his eye.” —— EL rrrOvmvWO’" COO mmm 9—' ‘“Sarve him right,” answered the voice out- side. ‘‘Teach him to come pokin’ down hyar, nosin’ ’bout other folks’ biz. Come along, boys —and—look byar, Stevens.” ** Well?’ said Stevens. ‘‘You jest keep your eyes skinned arter this fur the sigual, and report your visitors as soon as they getin. If the boys hadn’t seen the cuss okin’ along in the Narrows we mout never ha’ nown it. Good-night.” Then there was a shuffling of feet outside and Stevens observed in a cautious way to Joe: ** They’re going, but it won’t do to open the door. This is only a trick.” They remained at the loop-holes for a little while longer but could hear nothing, when Stevens said: ** Joe, you sey = watch here. I’m going up to the lantern, ow is your eye, Mr. Grey?’ ‘* Better,” said Julian rather faintly. ‘‘I thought it was on the eyeball, but it seems not, I can see a little, but I am in considerable pain.” ‘* Stay where you are, then,” said the light- keeper, and he ascended the staircase to the lantern of the light house, where he lay downon the little baleony that surrounded the glasses, and peeped over through the intervals between the planks. He saw the scow in which the assailants had come still lying in the channel next to the land, and knew that his suspicions bad been correct. The men who had attacked the light-house had not gone away. ““They’re bound to cover their tracks,” he groaned to himself. ‘‘ Oh, if 1 only knew how to get that boy away.” he looked be saw a man stalk out from under the house below and look up. The light-keeper lay still, and presently the man was joined by several others, distinctly visible in the moonlight, He heard them conversing in low tones, but could not catch what was said, till one who seemed to be the leader, spoke aloud: ** Go down to the scow, boys. I can’t blame the Yank. He’s got his duty to do, and he’s done it. But we’ve got to watch that the young man don’t get away. I don’t believe he’s dead. Take the boat with you and we'll go. It’s no use watching here,” Stevens breathed more freely as he saw them depart, but he noted with uneasiness that one of the men pulled in Julian’s boat and dragged it round the end of the island into the river channel. A little later, and the scow put off from the shore, and vanished up the Locohatchee river, whence it had come, when the light-keeper went slowly down-stairs, and said to his fol- lowers: ‘““They have gone at last. We can go out.” They went out into the cabin, and found the outer door burst from its fastenings; but the cabin was otherwise uninjured. They lighted one of the extinguished lamps, and found a few blood-tracks on the floor, but so little that old Joe observed: nes aay Marse Stevens, we done shoot pow’- ful bad, I reckon. Hain’t killed one of ’em.” ‘‘Darkness and poor rifles, with old eyes,” said Stevens, rather mournfully. ‘* We're not what we used to be, Uncle Joe,” ‘“‘Dunno that,” responded Joe, rather ob- stinately. ‘*I don’t hev to w’ar specks yet. Reckon some of dem fellers got it, arter all. Mebbe oe eome back to-night, cappen.” “TI think not. But they know Mr. Grey’s not killed. They’ve taken his skiff. I guess you'll be a prisoner for some time bere, Mr. Grey.” Julian bad been binding up his eye with a wet cloth to ease the inflammation, and he said, ratber ruefully: “T wonder why they did that, I never did them any barm.” “They think you want to discover their secret,” returned Stevens, gloomily, “I thought that you might have escaped their vigilance, but it seems not.” “* And what is their secret?” asked Julian. ‘‘The secret of the smoke,” returned Stevens in the same gloomy way. ‘I was coming to it when we were interrupted. If you want to bear it ll tell you now, but I warn you that, after you know it, you'll be worse off than you were before.” ‘‘ Never mind that,” said Julian, firmly. “TI begin to see there is some dark crime hid be- hind all this mystery. Tell me, and in some way I’ll manage to ferret it out and punish the authors,” CHAPTER XIV. THE LIGHT-KEEPER’S STORY. THE scene in the light-honse was very gloomy when Stevens began his story afresh. Julian Grey, with a little line of blood down on the side of his face, where the stone splinter had struck him over the eye, sat with a wet bandage round his brow, his head resting on his hands, feeling as if he wished he had never come there. Stevens looked still more gloomy, and kept a keen watch on the path leading down to the channel, with a loaded rifle lying by his hand while he - €O ni CG J00 S con ATE GEE te mean Ge - a> — ~ —t. ‘ - <—