Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 28 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

CHAPTER XXV. A PAINFUL INTERVIEW. 1’ JUDGE, jury and spectators stared in mute | nazement at the vacant chair, scarce able to \Pilieve their eyes. It did not seem possible that ie prisoner could have stolen away unobserved fr at least one pair out of the many—yet such \d been the case. He was not among the crowd, r could any glimpse of him be obtained along }, @ hillside, up or down the valley, nor yet to- | 2 d the town. : 12 How is this—what does it all mean?” cried Mck Hayes, addressing the boy miner, who was | Gietly smiling at their consternation, ‘* Where’s ') gone to?” - v“*T suppose he got tired sitting here listenin his lite being sworn away by a nest of suc fernal scoundrels—you flogged one of the most \Hicent of the lot just now—and so he thought ; °d take a walk for the good of his health.” 1Y¥* And eamh Aa f didn’t you go, too?” id ’Tisn’t my style. I’ve never yet turned tail Jan enemy—it’s too late in the day to begin t\iw. Tl either leave this a free and unsus- ected man, or you'll have the blood of an inno- nt being upon your hands, If I do win free mets be some black and heavy scores wiped | ” 1T}*Never mind that now—you are not cleared \\@. Jack Gabriel—you will take the prisoner | “ek to the jail and keep him under your own s until he is wanted. As for you, 8,” he |} 'Yded, addressing the excited crowd, “ there’s 46 hundred dollars waiting for the man who | ings back that old fellow. Don’t hurt him Sre than you can help, for he isn’t armed—but bing him Drache Half a dozen of you strike off | {Ser the hill on foot—the rest of you get your and come to me for instructions— ~ ray!” y sharply-spoken words were not without ect. From being wildly excited, running to d fro and making confusion worse confound- , they settled down to business in an instant, |} lozen of them starting up the hillside, here too i and broken for horsemen, others rushing heir horses and putting themselves under mand of Jack Hayes. _ ‘It’s jest. as well you didn’t make a break, g o’ your pard, young feller,” observed Ar- Ww Tack. as he escorted Little Volcano back rison. ‘The old fool ‘ll be brung back n a-nour, an’ his running away will only judy ce the jury ag’in’ him.” He asked me to with him, but I didn’t it worth while,” replied the boy miner, as entered the log cabin. ‘‘There’s nothing roved against us yet, nor can there be un- alse swearing can outweigh the truth. I owe you one, friend, for exposing that if I don’t say much, I think all the more.” You hain’t got nothin’ to thank me for,” 3 the blunt reply. ‘‘I owed the pizen war- nt one, an’ I paid it, too—’twa’n’t out o’ love * you. They say you’ve been mighty thick h Joaquin; the say se Bee prove it. Ef ‘it’s so—ef you do belong to his feng be 13 fust one to h’ist away on the rope an’ ich at the show you make cin’ on noth- k you for nothing! I don’t think you’ll ve that pleasure very soon, if there’s any 4 - | *2 to be If Thad been guilty, I wouldn’t | Uhere now, when I had such a good chance of ) ‘king my legs save my neck. Now, if you ye no objections, I'll take a little snooze—I *t sleep much last Ris gxad ) Arkansaw Jack lighted his pipe and sat down ‘yn the floor, leaning against the slab door, ening for the sounds of triumph he doubted | would speedily announce the capture of the without the ess tive. But hour after hour ela ected signals, and his face be to lengthen confidence gradually turned to doubt. If nri Coon escape for good—what a bit- should ‘di grace it would be to them all—and he had m playing such a prcer ent part—he would er hear the last of it. | ‘oor Jack Gabriel! little did he dream of the | e the future had instore forhim. Hisdays were } \pady numbered—his earthly trail was draw- i ‘ra tp, He was to add one more link to ‘" t terrible chain of crime and bloodshed that h marks the footsteps of the terrible Joaquin ) 4 even more ee aL ee qe sun was sinking i ow the ps upon western range, when a timid knock at the in door aroused Jack Gabriel from the rev- ‘into whith he had fallen. A low, trembling ‘ce replied to his Soap ay tones of a ‘man teyind a doubt—and casting one glance j}yard the sleeping captive, Jack opened the Hr and step orth. He instantly recog- ed the slight figure of Morton, and ¥od his hat with rude politeness. : You wanted to see me, miss?” he asked, with pice that would persist in wabbling a little; 1 as he was, Jack was no hero in the presence ‘beauty. r , ee eis ota will be kind? You will let me see leo the—the prisoner?” faltered Mary. ‘ You ‘y think it a strange request, but I—I love O80 dearly !” ; It’s ag’in’ orders, miss—the boss would r’ar ‘an’ kick the hull gable-eend off o’ me ef he 4 { « >: » | aed = x knowed it. Id like to please ye, but you see jest how I’m fixed,” said Jack, uneasily. ‘* There can be no harm—he is innocent, I am sure. Please let me see him—if only for one short minute!” pleaded the maiden, her trem- bling hand touching Jack’s horny paw. To do him justice Gabriel tried hard to resist, but he couldnot. Down in his big bosom was a heart, tender and soft teward anything in the shape of woman. It melted immediately, though he sought to make his voice sound éven rougher and sterner than usual, as he replied: ‘*'Yas—you want to play some trick, so he kin slip off like t’other feller did—that’s what’s the matter.” ** No, indeed—indeed—” ** You promise, honest Injun, you won’t give him no weepons—no oq nur nothin’? ou won’t try to play no bugs onto me if I let you inside thar?” ‘*T promise you, by my mother’s grave!” was the earnest reply. “Then Pll trust you—I couldn’t help it, ef I was to try till the cows come home. ou ’mind me of my little gal—she’s dead now. Thar— don’t say no more. Go in—when you want to come out, jest knock on the door.” He opened the door, and Mary entered. She saw the boy miner lying upon the floor, still sleeping, his face pale and careworn. At that sight hesitation vanished, all shyness was ne; she only remembered that she loved him tter far than life itself, and gliding forward she knelt beside him, pressing her lips to his forehead. The gentle touch awakened him. His eyes opened, and his dream seemed realized. For the moment he only knew that she whom he loved with an ardor and intensity far beyond his years, was there beside him—and then they were clasped in each other’s arms. But only for a few moments did this trans- port last. That black, never-to-be-forgotten night recurred to the boy miner’s memory, and a shudder of aversion passed through his frame as he released the maiden and sprung to his feet. looked up into his face, bewildered at this sudden change. And then a hot blush suffused her face as she murmured: ‘** You are angry with me for coming here?” “Not angry—only I must confess I am sur- prised to see you here—alone,” replied the boy miner, speaking hard and sternly, the more so, te from finding it such an effort to speak ab all. ‘‘There was no one to come with me. Aunt was busy—and I couldn’t wait, I wanted to see you so much,” faltered Mary. ‘““To ask me what I have done with your lover, no doubt,” bitterly added Little Volcano. “TI don’t understand you?” murmured Mary, arising. ‘‘ Indeed!” sneered the boy miner. ‘‘ Do you wish me to speak out?” Then, as Mary looked at him in silent surprise, he added, in a hard, almost insulting’tone: “Very well; I will speak arg and if the words hurt you, do not blame me. ou must know why If am here; among other things for killing or in to kill two members of a party that followed us for the urpose of murdering and robbing us. One of Phan men was known as—Laughing Dick.” “T know—I heard it all—I sent you a note, warning you of danger,” murmured Mary. “‘T said one of the men who was killed was named. Laughing Dick,” repeated the boy miner with emphasis. ‘‘ You may have heard of him —possibly ?” ‘Yes—he was one of the band—I have seen ‘ ” Little Voleano stared in amazement. Could it be that he had made a mistake? No—that was impossible. “T know you have seen him—I know that only too well!” “What do you mean? There is some dread- ful mistake—’ ‘So I said, on that night. Do you remem- ber that afternoon—when we were together in the dining-room? When you told me you loved me—better than life itself?’ “That is the question I should ask you,” sad- ly replied the maiden. ‘My being here is a sufficient answer—but you /” ‘** Ay! there is a change, isn’t there?” and he laughed harshly. ‘“‘I was a silly, blind fool, then. But my eyes were quickly opened. My God! how happy I was that day! I could re- peat every one of your words—recall every look and smile—I was in heaven upon earth! But that same night— Do you remember it? You were beside the spring—a man’s arms were around your waist—he kissed you—and I saw it oe You hide your head—I do not won- er—” The You saw me, then?” gasped the maiden trem- ingly. ** Yes—and I recognized him, too, I paid my debt in full—if you want him, go ask the wolves and the buzzards!” “T do not understand you—I saw him, alive and well, not an hour ago—” ‘‘Bah! can the dead walk? I killed him, I tell you—and was only sorry that he didn’t have a dozen lives that I might—” ‘““ Who are you speaking of—what is his name?” — + —— a — -_——$__— —_—__—_—__ | = e was Laughing Dick—the gambler—the thief—” ‘*Thank God!” cried Mary, joyfully. ‘‘ Then you don’t know—you thought it was a lover whom I met that night?” **Tt would seem so, to a blind man with spec- tacles on,” harshly laughed Little Volcano. ‘*'Those soft words, those long-drawn kisses— that looked lover-like, certainly !” ‘*T never spoken a dozen words to that man— Laughing Dick. I never met him except as he came in to dinner with the rest. I never had a lover, until—until—” “Will ou tell me who it was you met that night at the spring, then?’ interrupted the boy miner. ‘* T cannot—I dare not—do not ask me, please.” “You say that it was not Laughing Dick— that you never met nor spoke a word of love to him. You say more, that you never had a lover. And yet you did meet a man after dark that night, beside the sprin , for I saw you. You let him hug you, Tot kiss you, and once, at least—for I saw it with my own eyes—: you kissed him in return. I may be very dull and stupid—but I cannot reconcile this with your words. I admit that I loved you—I loved you wholly and entirely—I would have died for you, and counted myself richly repaid with one kind look—one kiss. Yet my love did not make me blind—I know what I saw. If you can explain it away, I will bless you—I will ask your pardon upon my knees. Can you explain it? Tell me who that man was—tell me what connection there is between you?” “*T cannot—I cannot!” sobbed Mary, covering her face. ‘You mean you will not! Very well. I was a fool for even dreaming of such a thin for thinking you could explain it away. But bed gone now. My eyes are opened for good— ‘* As God hears me, there was nothing wrong —I was never false to you, evenin thought! You will believe me?’ ‘“When you tell me what I ask—never, un- less,” stonily replied Little Volcano, turning away from her. The maiden sunk to the floor with a wailing cry, sobbing as though her heart would break. The cry was echoed from without, and then the door ahs and Mrs. Champion entered fol- lowed by Arkansaw Jack. Mary arose, and, af- ter one 5 tigen look toward the boy miner, she took her aunt’s arm and left the prison. Arkansaw Jack watched them out of sight then closed and fastened the door, with a good deal of emphasis, growling: ‘*T don’t know what they may be atween you an’ her—nor what it was brung her here: but this much I will say! A feller as’ll make a little angel-gal like that cry fit to bu’st her heart, ain’t fit to live "mong white men--an’ if ever I git the chaince to pull on a rope as is round your neck, ef I don’t shout glory hallelewjeram |! then I’m a nigger—so thar p CHAPTER XXVI. r LITTLE VOLCANO ‘‘ SPREADS HIMSELF.” Time dragged slowly and heavily with the ar who now no hope to cheer him. ith the vanishing of Mary Morton, it seemed as though the last link that bound him to earth had been loosened. Through all his mad jeal- ousy and dark thoughts, there had nevertheless been a vein of hope that everything might be cleared away—the seeming mystery explained, and when the final blow came, it descended with redoubled force. Boy though he was, in years at least, the wild, picenes ent life he had led for years had developed his nature wonderfully and he loved Mary Morton with every fiber o his fiery, nervous nature. Those hours were of absolute torture, though he persisted in declar- ing himself doubly fortunate in making the dis- covery before it was too late, Only once did he arouse himself from the gloomy fit that had fallen upon him: that was when Arkansaw Jack came to relieve the guard. The giant seemed greatly excited, and drawing close to Little Volcano, whispered rapidly in his —- for sane mamantes: The boy miner thanked m warmly, but thea relapsed into mood—almost stupor, * mag, old The hours passed on, rolling up into days, still nothing was heard of the missing man. <A number of the pursuers came back, empty- handed, but as a general thing only to recruit themselves, once more taking the trail, well pro- vided with rations. No word came from Sheriff Hayes, until early on the morning of the fourth day. Then he rode into town, haggard and way-worn, his horse scarce able to walk, his fol- lowers, if anything, in still harder case. There was no need of asking questions. A blind man micueny have told he <a Never once had they set eyes upon the fugitive, never once eve pastel his trail. It seemed as though Zimri Coon must have called to his aid the spirits of the air to have vanished without leaving the faintest trace of his passage. eee Bayes agri a lose and, scarce waiting e bite or sup, he call- ed a meeting and declared his intention of pro- ceeding with the trial of the remaining prisoner. The jury was still at hand, though Arkansaw no more time, Eomicbooks (E(0)