Pulp Fiction, 1883 · page 22 of 32
Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 257 — page 22: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1883. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
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Se os eh, nae {8 Ga ‘Pine . | oles Sa ieee t% on : — = s —— _— lg = es ee Ss ag et ee eS ln oto See ee ee eee aa — . > Death-Trap Diggings. eyes seemed fo fail him, and his steps grew un- steady. There seemed a mist of blood dancing before his eyes, his brain whirled and throbbed as though on the point of bursting, and his walk was more like that of a drunken man than of one sober. | He gained the building and entered, castin a terrified glance over his shoulder as he cuneate the threshold, like one who feels be is followed by a deadly foe, or expecting to bebold a ghostly pursuer close at hissheels. He slammed the door shut and fastened it in trembling haste, then sunk into one of the chairs beside the table on which the oil lamp was still burning. He grasped the bottle of liquor and poured out a glass full, bis hand so unsteady that the neck clicked ageinst the rim like the echo of far-away castanets. He swallowed the fiery draught at a single gulp, and then, with a fur- tive glance around the room, as though fearful some enemy was watching his actions, he took the crumpled paper from bis pocket, and using beth bands to hold it steady enough for him to read the boldly-traced characters, perused this second strangely-delivered warning from the av -ngers of bis past crimes, Like the first, the communication bore no date whatever, and ran as follows: “To Clay Benevict, alias Colonel Claude Carey ;— * Assassin—foul murderer of innocent women . and children—for the second time you are warned, and as an earnest of the dread penalty which has been recorded against your name in the book of fate, witness the doom which has overtaken one of your tools in the massacre of those to whom the wealth of what is now known as Death-Trap Dig- gings, nghtfully belongs. You stained your soul crimson for lust of gold; for it you most foully murdered those whom you called your friends, whose bread you had eaten whose salt you had tasted for long months; by i you are ranked among the mining kings, and com- en men bow down to worship at your golden foot- stool. ‘* You shall live long enough to see all this wealth disappear as though it had never known existence; long enough to learn that mankind worships your ill-gotten gains rather than yourself; then the blow of the avengers shall fall. *A goodly portion of your stolen wealth has yan- ished ere you read this,. Our hands laid the train and applied the spark. This is only the beginning, and other blows are already falling. You cannot escape. You are deomed—doomed as surely as thoughthe worms were already fattening on your foul carcass—by ‘Toe Ghosts oF GOLDEN VALLEY.” Twice over the doomed wretch read these stern, merciless threats, then, his hands trem- . bling, his face as livid as that of the corpse on which he had so recently _— Colonel Carey set fire to the paper, and watched it slowly turn to ashes on the table before him. With a sudden fierceness, he crushed the ae particles beneath his hand, then wiped the black smear from the wood with his bandker- chief, as though fearful it might whisper aloud the dread secret, and bring the avengers of dnnocent blood on his track. in be drank, swallowing the strong liquor as though it was water. He bowed bis head upon his bands, his fingers tightly clasping his temples, as 2 trying to still tbe mad throb- bing which filled his brain almost to bursting. Slowly his eyes closed, but notin sleep. He was thinking—recalling the black past, trying to see a way out of the frightful labyrinth. _ Like aslowly moving panorama it in review before his mind’s eye, each picture pain- fully distinct. remembered the day when he first beheld fair Bertha Burnham, while seeking some secluded spot where he might hide from those who were searching for Tiger Jim, the gam- bler, road-agent, train-robber, and reckless criminal in general. _ He remembered how he made her acquain- tance, and how he contrived to gain admittance to the house as a boarder, in his newly-assumed character; how he gained the respect and good- - will of father, brother, and herself; it all came Wn ag him — — a OR re er ote atoaees a sigh escaped his lips. For t playing a that was wholly foreign to. his nature, he was happy then. It seemed so refreshing to be ded as an honest man, as a lover of re- Jigion and all that was good and holy and respectable; he, a man whose hands had been on ti in human blood while yet a boy—on whose head rested all the sins of the deca- Jogue! . At first he used to laugh in secret scorn at the - simple beings who took his false coin for gen- wen pes but then came a change. The simple _unaffee ed ted purity of the wife whom he believ free, won upon him until he found, to is ambazement, that he was in love, madly, irre- trievably. _ «He remembered how he tried to reason with ‘himself that it was only a fleeting fancy, and how he really tried to himself away, feel- ing that it would be worse than murdering her, to link a fair life like hers with that of a crime- stained outlaw.. But he overrated his strength, underestimated ithe power of his infatuation, _. and when the chance was given him to suffer er escape; he could not accept it. That was ewhen Ralph Burnham told bim of the contem- plated trip overland to California, He remembered the start, the journey, the pleasant days and still more agreeable evenings which they spent together, his love growing with each day and hour, He could recall, what he had not understood at the time, how Ralph | Burnham hinted at Bertha being bound to | another; and now, a grating curse escaped from his lips as he recalled bis blindness. If he had only understood—if the old man had only spoken out more plaiuly! He told himself that in such a case he would bave crusbed down his mad passion and fled from temptation. Then he would never have entered the Golden Valley, never have com- mitted those crimes for which he was now being 50 terribly haunted. It alleame back to him so plainly now; how Ralph Burnham led them away from the di- | sell gaining her love, by sheer force of will, when _ his cruel work was done, rect trail, under pretense of finding more water and better grezing for their jaded stock; how they reached the little river which tumbled into | events of that momentous night before his | mind’s eye, the Golden Valley and formed the miniature lake; how the cunning old digger suggested a brief balt for the purpose of recruiting the strength of their cattle; how he led up to the discovery of gold in paying quantities along the banks of the little river, and then, when their cupidity was fairly awakened, how he un- masked the apparently wild scheme which had led him so far from the direct course to the Golden State. He could recall the very arguments with which the veteran fought their incredulity, and he remembered how he, from a wish to prolong those happy days with the woman he now fairly walabipahe sided with Ralph Burnham, though all the time considering him the wildest of vis- ionaries. He remembered how the stubborn old man in- sisted on being lowered into the lake at the end ofa Ae to dive to the bottom and there grope around until be filled a sack with sand, gravel and bits of rock; how the load was dragged from the water and put to the test: how loud the yell arose when the nugget of gold, dull yel- low, looking more like a lump of clay than aught valuable, was brought to light: a nugget large and valuable enough to pay a farmer, as most of them bad been, for a year’s hard labor in the fields. He remembered how the chate was cub and the dam built. How hard they labored, when once convinced that the nugget was not asimple accident, but that more of them =| at the bottom of the lake which Ralph Burnham ‘pro- posed to drain, How they saw their wildest and most extravagant hopes more than dis- counted by the truth; how the bed of the one- time lake was literally carpeted with gold in nuggets, beans, flakes and dust; but among it all he could recall those blessed—as he deemed them at the time—hours after knocking off work and eating supper, spent together with Bertha Burnbam, talking, singing or in strolling alon the top of the dam wiars the cool breezes o evening were so grateful after an all-day siege in the bot valley with spade and pick. His head sunk lower, until bis face was hidden on his crossed arms as they rested on the table, and a fit of trembling shook his athletic frame, as be came in his mental retrospect to that fatal night when he avowed his love for Bertha Burn- ham, only to bave the scales torn from his eyes and the terrible truth thrust upon him—to learn that she was not only not for bim, but that she was married, on her way to join the husband whom she had never seen since they parted at the altar. Ryven that blow, he told himself, might bave been overcome in time, by strong fighting, his love for her was so great, so pure, and her gentle influence had wrought such a change for the better in his nature; but then came the blow dealt by the strong arm of one whom he bad erm 5 upon asa jealous rival, Not even the fact that Vernon Curtis so gallantly ventured bis life in the attempt to save bis, when he re- cognized whom he had hurled into the madly hurrying waters, could wipe out that bitter dis- grace: and from that moment dated his down- ward career. ; Everything seemed to pense | gown into his hands, that a less accomplished professor of crime might well have been carried away by the temptation. The capture of Budd Painter, and the almost certainty that he had comrades somewhere in the neighborhood; the fact that the day following the discovery was that ap- pointed for him to take a hunt for the p se of bringing a stock of fresh meat; the finding his old comrade, Jeff Archer, preparing to de- pers = the camp where, as he believed, they ad been deserted by their guide; all this, coupled with the immense sum which could be realized by.a bold stroke, added to his burning lust for revenge on those who, bis evil passions told him, bad bitterly shamed and wronged him; all this, pushed him on to the frightful He recalled the, death of Vernon Curtis, and @ savage snarl broke unconsciouly from bis a teeth as he felt that he had delivered ow for blow; whatever might be his regrets for the other deaths ‘which lay at his door, he felt not the slightest compunction for that ! He shuddered anew as he recalled how he | cunningly lured poor old Ralph Burnham to his ld 00m; even now he could bear. the sickenin crushing of the skull as his heavy pistol-butt fe mF the bowed head, driven by all the power of his strong right arm, He remembered how he silenced the frightened cries of Bertha Burnham, when she awoke at his touch; how he bound her and bore her in his arms from the valley of death, up the winding trail tothe point where his partner in crime, Jeff Archer, so impatiently awaited his coming. He remembered how carefully he placed her on the ground, with ber back supported by a rock, her limbs bound and she unconscious, And he recalled how he stood for a brief space before her, gloating over ber pale, beautiful counte- nance, her symmetrical form, picturing to him- self the sweets of conquering her aversion, of Then, in swift succession, passed the other _ The opening of the treasure-chest and cache- ing its contents in part: the removal of the _ chest itself; the visit to the men who wore the disguises of Indians; the signal; the explosion and the frightful rush of water, filing the bed of the lake in what seemed to the watchers only a breath of time—and again he shudders econ- vulsively as he hears in fancy those wild, horri- ble yells of alarm which broke from. the doomed gold-diggers, only to be cut short and strangled in their throats by the tumbling waters! He recalls how one stout man—a mild, good- natured giant, for whom he had ever enter- tained a feeling of contempt as one little short of idiocy~grasping a slight-framed lad by one arm, fought his way through the mad element to the foot of the crooked trail, and gained what seemed to him a position of safety, only to be ruthlessly shot through the brain he the man whom he had called friend. And he can still hear the imploring cry of the lad for merey as he falls on his knees at the feet of the assas- sin, his clasped hands uplifted, his pale face wet with tears; and in bis ears still rings the sharp report of the death-dealing pistol—still sees the bloody form of little Davy Burnham roll- ing down the steep trail to the waters which rage, against its base, sent to death by his and. And then comes the watching for the a proach of day, to make sure that.none of their victims had escaped them; the sending Indian arrows into the bodies which the waters had washed out from the valley and lodged against the banks of the former river-bed. But plainer than all else stands out a discoy- ery that turned his triumph to ashes on his lips: the strange, unaccountable disappearance of Bertha Burnham. Not a trace was left by which the problem could be solved. She was gone, but none could say when or how. He recalled how he ranged the country far and near, refusing to abandon the search while the ghost of a chance remained, but all in vain. Had the earth opened to swallow her up, then closed again without leaving a scar visible, the mystery of her vanishment could not have been more complete. And at angen they arrived at this conclusion, as the only theory by which her disappearance could be explained: She must bave recovered her senses and, realizing the loss of ber. friends and relatives, either by accident, or while driven mad by her great loss, rolled herself purposely down the steep trail to meet a grave in the raging waters below, e recalled how they abandoned the Death- Trap with their blood-stained gold, finally reaching civilization, and there making the division as agreed on beforehand. How they bound themselves most sacredly to never suffer the slightest hint of the terrible past to escape their lips, even when they believed themselves alone with each other. : Then he and Jeff Archer held frequent inter- views on ite and in them he divulged the wonderful discovery be bad made during those last few days, while plotting the destruction of bis former friends. e rocky hills and ridges which bordered the river directly above where the dam bad been built to drain the valley were stocked with marvelously rich gold-beari ng uartz, and to those who secured, the fir: choice of claims immense fortunes were in store. Yet, knowing this, they hesitated to avajl themselves of the knowledge, Jest. some suspi- cion of the terrible crime which must then discovered should attach itself to their skirts, Finally they invested a goodly portion of their-blood-stained gold in an extensive plant for crushing and reducing ore, keeping the fact well concealed from the public, lest. their secret should be ted, and were making prepara- tions for haying the massacre unmasked when accident saved them that trouble, - Joss A drunken Indian told a. ge, wild story of finding a number of bones and fragments of wagons at a spob which he described. He hed noticed bullet-marks on some of,tbhe remains, so | and picked up several Cheyenne arrows near (E(0) ooo) Mile cS