Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 271 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

. 10 She had cut the rope near the Deacon’s neck; and saved him just as the lynchers pulled away. And before they bad recovered from their astonishment bis hands were also freed, and he stood without bonds beside the girl. Very different, then, was their appearance, for while he was as cool and unmoved as ever, she was flushed, excited, and indignant. Gradually the lynchers recovered their self- ossession, but the silence was not at once roken. Zora was a favorite at the Bend, and no one liked ber better than the miners. Her lightness of spirit and bright ways had won their hearts long before; even the men led astray by Buoker’s agents were her slaves; and when they saw she was against them in the mat- ter they were staggered, It was sbe wh? first spoke: ‘For shame, men!” she cried, in a ringin voice. ‘I did not think that any one I had called my friend would mageers of such a deed, but I find you are all alike. Shame on your manhood that you should indulge in such work!” Only one man found speech with which to reply. He was a bold, unscrupulous fellow amed Hexam, and the only one there who new Jack Bunker’s hand bad been in the out- Tage, a Hold on, Miss Zora,” be said, assuming a boldness he did not feel.. *‘ You don’t under- stand this case; you don’t know what this crit- ter bas done.” ‘* What has be done?” ** He's a spy from Stinger’s Bar, set ter ruin Sune camp, an’ he’s g’in Tom Berry his last u Stonefist, of Big Nugget Bend. ——_ Zora, however, was so angry that she stamped her little foot on the earth, which seemed as gifted with feelings as this man. ‘* Never mind!” she cried; *‘ you and I need not say any more. As I before remarked, I have paid my debt, and as I now owe you noth- ing I will not submit to your freaks, I have listened to all the lectures I care to hear. From this time I desire you to refrain from speaking tome. Weare strangers!” ‘Misguided girl, this exhibition of temper is very unseemly. Because I have tried to turn your mind from vain and frivolous ways you regard me as yourenemy. Is truth. upright- new and honor to be despised? Wretched giri—- Blake was each moment becoming more and more severe, bis incisive voice ringing out te i and she interrupted him unceremon- ously, “You must not expect other people to be like you. Your temperament is that of the Arctic region; mine, that of Colorado, I have my eyes fixed upon earth; yours are seeking for the North Pole, which no man ever discovered, or ever will. I have no desire to be a preacber myself, but it seems to me that if any one bad saved my life at the moment when it was about to be lost, I would not turn upon them with harsb and insolent words!” “ Young woman—” ‘My name, sir, is Miss Lockyard, and by that I will be called or by dothing. But you need { not take the trouble to address me at all, nor to think of me. From this time we are strangers; lam going my way; go you yours!” And at tbe last word the girl did indeed go her way, hastening from the spot. Once, Blake “It is false, Tim Hexam. Berry was not ! called after ber, but she did not turn, ard soon hurt bere; he got his wound last night in a bar- room fight, It’s been kept quiet, but I know it. And you know it, too, and you've tried to werk ie to go against Blake. There is a plot against m! ' ‘* Bf thar is, I didn’t knowit. Bovees, is itso? Who knows? Let ther man speak out!” No one spoke out, The case was as Zora bad said, but it was impossible at that moment to unmask the men who had been in the scheme, Each one held his peace and wished he was | miles away. ‘So no one will shoulder the blame?” re- sumed Zora, sarcastically. ‘*Of course, you won't; you dare not. Now, as to the Singer's Bar bugbear. Who says Blake is working for the Bar aguinst Big Nugget Bend? Who backs the claim?” Evidentiy, no one craved the honor; no voice was raised to take the responsibility. ** Silence, again! Men, you should be ashamed, To-day, at noon, not one of you would have barmed Blake. You were all quick tosay he was not responsible for what he did, Then, you called him a crank; now, you say heisaspy srom Stinger’s Bar. Some one has been tamper- ing with you. Who is it?” or a little while there was no answer, but it was noticeable that the crowd was steadily grow- ing smaller. Before the logic of one little wo- man's mind the lynchers were losing their courage and fading away. No one felt more miserable and frightened than Tim Hexam, Lut he bad to stay and stand the storm, **Tamperin’, Miss Zora? I don’t reckon thar bas been ony ining o’ that sort. We has very likely gone wild a bit an’ gone too fast on a sus- picion, but we've done it on ther squar’. But ef we're wrong, I, fur one, am ready ter cave, What say, boys?” ‘*T say we hev been fools an’ we'd better git,” replied a voice from the crowd, and deserters reg have been seen going in every direc- ou, Even Tim Hexam, muttering something not understood, was glad to join the procession, and only a few of the most moderate men stayed with Zora and Deacon Stonefist. he latter bad stood like a statue from the moment he was released, but the girl now turned to him. “You are free, sir,” she said, growing re- served and cold. fs “For which fact lam indebted to you,” he evenly replied. ** Yes,” she replied, “I have paid my debt, and that, too, much sooner than I[ expected. Weare now on equal footing!” “Yes,” be replied, quietly. ‘I am compelled to thank you for what you have done, and I say that you have unusual courage, I regret, however, that it has been shown by facing a mob and at a them in their own peculiar line,” “Don't let that worry you,” she retorted. “« If you are tired of life, the rope is still here.” “Tam vot tired of life, nor will I take into my mortal hands that which should only, be guided by the Creator of life. I was speaking of yourself. You area young woman, and as such you should not mix and talk with riotous men as you have done to-night.” Evidently nothing, not even the shadow of death, could make the Deacon forget his Poin passion. Reform must go on though the eart quaked and the air was touched to the point of a howling cyclone. . disappeared from bis view. ‘*Tt is the way of the world,” said the reform- er barshly. ‘ Evil has so entered into the peo- ple of the day that warnings are despised and reviled. Alas! for the generation!” CHAPTER XII, JACK BUNKER PLOTS ANEW. Tue attempted lynching of Biake caused a good deal of talk at the Bend. It was generally admitted that the so-called reformer was not responsible for what he did. He was not, per- haps, strictly insane, but he was certain!y de- ranged; he was popularly called a crank, waile those who wished to avoid the térm, spoke of him as a monumaniac, There was some mystery about the crusade of Judge Lynch, and no ove seemed to know who was at the head of it. Hud not Deacon Stone- fist angered Zora anew, ber theory of foul play might have got abroad and led to a revelation, but as she kept silent it was supposed to have been an unpremeditated uprising of the miners. No official notice was taken of the matter, oy rtly because no regular official existed at the end; and there was a general feeling that Judge Lynch, having seen he was hasty, re- pented, and that the crank in broadcloth was free and safe to walk the streets thereafter. Jack Bunker and Warfield were discussing the matter at their usual haunt, and neither was in an amiable mood, ‘“T told you bow it would work,” said War- field, irritably. ‘‘ At least, I said there was fiilure and danger in it. According to what Hexam reported to you, the Lockyard girl openly declared there was a plot. I expect to see vou arrested before night, my friend.” “But I don't,” Bunker replied. ‘Thar ain’t no use o’ shuttin’ a feller’s eyes ter faces, an’ I admit ther game was a mist ‘.e, but Ihev leetile fear fur ther result. It seems Zora an’ ther ‘crank had a row ter wind up with, en’ that lets me out. Besides, nobody but Hexam could give me away, an’ by doin’ it he would so criminate himself that he’d go up ther flume. I feel safe.” ‘* Well, I hope you are, for the sake of our other work.” ‘*So do I,” Bunker acknowledged. ‘Then act as though you did. Hangit! I like to plav every card for all it’s worth when I gointoa job. I’vescored some first-class suc- _cesses, but always on that principle. Now, Zora knew you had quarreled with Blake, and she will be a foolif she don’t suspect who puton Judge Lynch’s spurs.” 4 Bein’ able ter prove an alibi, let her s"pect. Warfield hurled a few remarks at Bunker's head of a typ2 more emphatic than polite, ad- oe fervent wish that he would not ** be a 00 . ‘““Your way an’ mine are diff’rent,” Bunker replied. ‘‘ You are high-toned, an’ such men are creepin’ cats; I'm a rouch-an’-ready galoot, an’ of au order taat goes witha rattle an’ bang. But ef you think I don’t hanker fur old Lock- yard’s gold, vou make a mistake. Who started ther idee? Who sent fur you an’ laid ther Quickstep plot?” a My dear sir, I, know you're in earnest— sometimes, I even suspect you are more in ear- nest than I know.” “What d’ye mean?’ —" The two looked each other in the face—War- field keen, critical, and suspicious; Bunker, ag- gressive and curious, **T suspect there issomething back, Are you sure you don’t know old Lockyard person- ally?’ ‘““Of course I don’t!” “You have the air of one after revenge.” **Bab! you let yer imagination run away with common-sense, AlJl l’m arter is his mon- ey. “You have always declined to tell me how you, of all the world, knew that this simple old man had so much money.” ‘** Wal, that’s none o’ your business,” Bunker bluntly said, “See byar, ef you want ter back out o’ this game, say so, and Jet me know it,” “T mean to stay in,” Warfield coolly said; ‘‘in fact, it is necessary for us to hang to- ‘‘Because neither of us can fleece Lockyard alone.” ‘*Can’t we? S’pose I put some other man in your place?” ‘ ‘Now you come right down to bed-rock,” Warfield said, witha cold smile, ‘“* Let us un- derstand each other, Partner, if you kick me out I shall go to Lockyard and say: ‘ Beware of Jack Bunker; he means you barm!’” In speeking 90 plainly, Warfield expected an outburst in keeping with Bunker’s nature, But none came, Fora moment the rouzh fellow was silent, and then broke into a langb. ‘*Old man, you're a fool!’ he said, but not in anger. ‘‘An’ it may be I’m another—you prob'ly know that best. See hyar, we’re in ther game tergether an’we must sick. Nate Lockyard must buy a sbare in ther Quic! step an’ hand over bis monev ter us thar’by. From this out we'll pull more evenly, an’ I'il Jet Dea- con Broadcloth alone, ez you say. Now, then?” His manner was fair enough, ard thcugh Warfield had some lurking suspicions, they drank each other’s health in Parrott’s best whisky. Then Bunker said good-day and left the hotel. He went at once to the shanty where Horace Kellogg made bis home. Lockyard’s nephew was “‘bard up;” he was always hard up. Even in the old « ays when hie *incle was foolish enough to give him money, .juandered it about as quick as a c\clone ] scatter a dust heap, and it was his chronic state to be hard oR For some time he bad lived in the shanty, barely getting his living .by gambling and like pursuits, It was there that Jack Bunker descended on him one day and proposed an elaborate scheme for getting possession of Lockyard’s money. Horace bad jumped at the chance. He had often had such dreams in the past. himself, but he lacked the brains to plan and execute, being a dat Romig though thoroughly unscrupulous, rascal. At the time our story begins, however, he was very sanguine and looked upon Eunker es bis good demon—we had almost said, good angel, Entering the shanty, Jack found it vacant and he sat down to await. Horace’s coming. **T am goin’ ter put a rod in pickle fur Master Kellogg that’ll give him a pass o’er ther rivcr,” thought Jack, ‘I was a fool ter take him inter ther game so soon, anybow. If this Quickstep business works, Kellogg is no more needed than a fifth wheel ter a wagon. Wal, he’s ez easy got rid on, anyhow, an’ he won't eucher me outer nothin’.” The fellow paused to chuckle and then con- tinued: ‘*He littl knows who I am, or how I’ve come hundreds o’ miles ter clean out Lockyard. Knowin’ what I doo’ ther world, hows’ever, it’s my advice when thar is a big wind ter look fur a drama in ther past. Many a leetle tragedy may be explained on that footin’, an’ ef I was ter go ter Nate Lockvard an’ say who J reall he, I reckon he wonld recognize me. Wal, reckon!” He ceased to mutter as the door ‘opened and Kellogg appeared. He came in with a scowl on his face, but brightened as he saw his visi- tor. ti Hello, boyee,” said Jack, bluffly, ‘‘ what’s gone wrong?” ‘‘ Better ask what’s gone right,” said Horace, as he dro ei intoachair. ‘I’ve been playing poker ahd: ave lost my last red.” “Moral, let poker alone.” ‘“* And starve?” ““You can’t eat poker, an’ ef you lose at it tis only a question o’ time "bout starvin’, any- how. But, take this an’ cheer up.” Jack tossed a coin to bis companion and then resumed. ‘*T hear you failed ter enter ther school ez a pupil. “ “Yes,” said Horace, sullenly. “ Why ” ‘‘ Miss Lawrence wouldn’t take me.” ‘Possible? I c’u’d guess all that, pard. What I wanted was her reasons?” ‘She said I was as well educated as herself,” ¢om (E S) 900!