Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 28 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

. Joaquin as to the best course of procedure. When he learned the probable number of spec- tators, all of whom would be fully“armed, Joa- quin drew aside and pondered long and deeply. He knew it would be rank folly to attempt an open rescue, with his handful of men, scarcely half as many as the spectators. There must be a diversion—and to that point his strong mind was bent. Gradually his brow cleared, and he gave to Zimri the result of his cogitations. “Tf they do not attempt to hang him before dark,” he said, ‘‘I think we can manage it. If they do—then we will charge them and do what we can; at least I will not live to see my friend murdered. If they do delay until dark—listen: Six of my men will enter the town, ready for work. ey will set fire to as many houses—the larger the better. In the confusion that follows we must do our work. If we could only warn o-— ““Tll do that,” eagerly cried Zimri, ‘I kin creep in among ’em, like I did on your fellers. Pil 50 that the boy is ready for whatever may come. And so it was decided; all depending upon whether the jury should give in a verdict be- fore night came to cover the movements of the rescuers. Bundles of grass and cloth were formed, min- gled with dried twigs and spri d with gun- »owder, over all of which were emptied every iquor-flask in the party. With these bundles the six chosen men were armed, as the night descended, and the moment of action drew near, Zimri made a circuit and entered the town from the upper end, and managed to mingle with the crowd, escaping recognition by keep- ing some distance from the fire. He alone of all that party caught the first faint light of the kindling fires, and gliding forward he managed to gain a position immediately behind the pris- oner. He uttered the old familiar signal, and saw that Little Voleano had not forgotten it. Then he uttered the warning already recorded and, slipping aside, prepared for action, t every risk he must prevent any one seizing the prsree until Joaquin should bring up the main 4 of his men. Then the alarm broke forth—jire/ fire ! CHAPTER XXIX. JOAQUIN TO THE RESCUE. THe alarm found Zimri Coon ready and im- patient for work. He promptly took up the ery —yelling fire fit to split his throat, but at the same time pressing closer to the boy miner's side. Instantly all was confusion. ‘The shouts still came from the town, where Joaquin’s men were now performing the second act, straining their voices to increase the uproar and confu- sion. Added to this came the shrill screams of women—and over all the fast-increasing ruddy glare as the flames shot higher and higher. There was a momentary pause, during which each man of the startled crowd gazed vacantly toward the direction whence the alarm pro- ceeded—but only for a moment. One hoarse, peculiar roar of voices arose as, with one ac- cord, the diggers sprung forward, forgetting all else save the fire beyond; and foremost among them were Jack Hayes and Arkansaw Jack. Old Zimri could not suppress a yell of exulta- tion as he saw how perfectly his plans were be- ing carried out. hen he was beside Little Voleano, crying, eagerly: ““Come, little ’un,” as he shook the boy min- er by the shoulder. ‘‘ Puckachee’s the word. The furder we git from here afore daybreak the healthier Plifeel. Come—” “Skip out, old man—don’t let them find you here, or they’ll say you had a finger in this, work, Go—before it’s too late—Pm going to stay. and see the thing out.” “You cain’t mean it, lad—they’ll hang ye, shore as cats ain’t dogs! Come, quick! ey’s true fri’nds cluss to han’ only waitin’ fer you. Wake up an’ make haste—” ‘“No—I never ran away from an enemy ret—" These words ;pasted: tu breaths uick almost as thought itself. The crowd had y ed them by, rushing in hot haste toward the fires. J ad_joined in the stampede save two men besides Zimri Coon. One was the boy miner; the other sat beside the green baize- covered table, near the chair vacated by Jud Lynch. Upon his shapely wrists were hand- cuffs, as revealed by the glowing embers before him, ; Long Tom, bitterly feeling the degradation of his pt sition, had heard the wild alarm with a sul- ien indifference, even as he would had he known that his own building was among those iat consuméd: Sullenly he kept his seat, now an then casting an evil glance over to where the srisoner had been placed. He saw that one dark howe remained beside Little Volcano, as though guarding against his escape. But then—broken words came to his ears as Zimri Coon grew more earnest in his pleading against the boy miners firmly-taken resolution. Long Tom unde it all now—the whole daring ruse was clear to him, and for one moment his fierce, lawless na- ture fairly thrilled with admiration for the man who could—as he then believed—conceive | Tniners Three-Fingered Jack. such a bold plan and successfully carry it out. But then, all his hatred and fear returned with redoubled force, and he resolved to prevent the boy miner’s cara even though it cost him his own life. The thought wes enough. Springing to his feet, he yelled at the top of his voice: ‘* Rescue—rescue ! ing!” ith a bitter curse, Zimri raised his arm and fired at the figure. With one last cry, Long Tom sunk to the earth. But his work was done. The shrill cry reached the ears of Sheriff Hayes, and in an instant he turned around, calling up- on Jack Gabriel and his other friends to follow him. For atime in vain. With the fire in their faces, the crackling, devouring flames flashing full in their eyes, it was no easy task to chee their impetuous rush, and Jack Hayes was near- ly thrown down ere his furious curses and yells, added to rapid blows, made any impression up- on those immediately around him. Zimri Coon saw that the alarm was given, and knowing there was no time to lose, he uttered the signal to Joaquin to charge, at the same time seizing Little Volcano and flinging him across his shoulders like a sack of meal he ran toward the point of the hill around which the outlaws were just ohereene ‘‘ Here’s the lad—kic wuss’n & rantanker- ous he jackass!” panted Zimri, as he hailed Joaquin and checked the progress of the out- laws. ‘‘ Whar’s my-hoss, some one? We must scratch gravel mighty lively, ur we'll ketch more gruel ’n we kin swaller. Ouch! dog-gone it, boy, don’t kick so! my ribs hain’t e 0’ cast-iron |” ‘¢ Let me down, you old fool—let me loose or an be the sa wt es nampa the acy pune pinneeng and kicking like one possessed, ‘ tell you Pll not run away—” ‘* 'Take it easy, lad, an’ Pll run away fer ye,” spluttered Zimri, as he dextrously tossed the captive across his horse’s withers and then scrambled into the saddle. ‘‘ You’re pizen mad now, but you’ll soon git over that, an I reckon I kin stan’ a little cussin’, when I know I’m do- in’ right.” ‘Let me down!” cried Little Voleano; but his words were almost drowned by the fierce, prolonged yell of angry vengeance that rose up- on the night-air. ‘‘You hear that? They’d be nice hands to drap into, wouldn’t they?” half-laughed Zimri Coon. ‘* You'd be chawed into paper-rags afore you'd time to—” The yell.of baffled vengeance chan into a roar of discovery, and a dozen bright spouts of flame sent as many revolver-bullets toward the The prisoner is escap- shadowy, indistinct mass, and as one man the crowd of diggers leaped forward. Sharp and clear the voice of J Murieta e volley re- rung forth, and as promptly was turn Though no death-yell followed—save one or two trifling scratches, the brief encoun- ter was bloodless; though no death followed ei- ther comp the bright flashes of powder had revealed the figures of enough horsemen to make the diggers more cautious than usual, and when Joaquin wheeled his horse and ordered a retreat, only a few hastily-dispa bullets followed them then. The ver iberation with which the rescuers retreated, proved their best safeguard. An ambuscade was what the ted. And then—the fire! The outlaws under Joaquin rode away from Hard Luck at a moderate trot, their chief bring- ing up the rear, and occasionally halting to Hs- ten for any sounds of pursuit. e gloom con- cealed a grim smile as nothing of this sort met his ear, and then he gave the word for more rapid riding, eager to reach his mountain re- treat—and Clarina—once more, knowing right well that his trail would be taken up with the first gleam of day, if not before. Little Volcano was now riding upright in the saddle, with Zimri seated behind him a diea the doubly-laden horse. Though he Seania his struggles, finding them in vain while his hands were still centined):hd did not spare his eT his t night’s work divides us forever, old man,” he said, his voice trembling with r. “The worst was over. I had stood my and on the evidence no man could have brought me in guilty. Now—whatcan they think? Ten thousand witnesses could notconvince them of my innocence. Who will believe that Joaquin took all this trouble to aid one not belonging to his band? From this night on I am a marked man, to be run down and shot or hung like a dog! And IT owe it all to you—the man I called ? my friend I’ “A fri’nd I’ve bin an’ a fri’nd T’ll be, long as life an’ breath lasts, little ’un,” quietl: ied Zimri Coon. ‘ You cain’t rub that out with hot words. I did what I thought was fer the best; ef I made a mistake *twas through love 0’ you, lad. Maybe I be a old fool, as yousay; most like Tbe. Mebbe I orter to lay low an’ let them dev- ils—fer devils they is when oncet they git thar mad up—hang you fer what you never did. But that ain’t my idee o’ what a fri’nd should be. I did the best I could.” «« And that best was the worst you could have done,” muttered Little Volcano, gloomily. x é ' 25 — — ————— = Se the rest of that night Joaquin led his men on hrough the hills, never once pausing until the sun arose. Then, beside a mountain br they turned their animals loose to feed at will, "sort Little Voleano had been thinking, during that ride, and as he cooled down, he realized the in- ‘ape of which he had been guilty. Now, as 1e sat beside Zimri, withdrawn a little from the body of the outlaws, he brought himself to con fess as much. The eager light which filled thx old man’s eyes, the nervous quiver with which his fingers clasped the boy miner’s hand, was i beyond words. ‘“Them words is wuth more to me, lad, then ef they was solid dimints—Lord love ye, honey! I tried to make out I didn’t keer much, but ef it ’d bin daylight, little un, dog my sister’s cats up a tree! ef you wouldn't have see’d salt wa- ter runnin’ like a pump! I ama old fool, jest as you said—the idee!” : “You drop that, old man,” muttered Little Volcano, not without some emotion, as he wrung Zimri’s hand. “I was well-nigh crazy, then, and I said more than I meant. You did a what you thought was right. You couldn't have even guessed the turn matters had taken after you left. After all, there are other coun- tries than California.” ‘*Wharever you 50, thar Ill go, either as your pardner, or a-follerin’ you—that’s flat. An’ some day or other I’ll make up fer this mistake —I will, if I live.” ° ‘“‘Tf you don’t drop it, as I said, blest if I don’t crawl up your back and chew your ear—and that’s tP ; ‘‘ You cain’t, with them bracelets on,” grinned Zimri, entering into the spirit of the boy miner. “ Well, they’s one comfort. Joaquin says he’s got a feller in camp as kin pick any lock ever was ’vented.” ‘“*T only wish we could get rid of them by any other means,” muttered Little Voleano. ‘The ood will of such men is little better than their tred. Since I first met him, ’ve had nothing but bad luck. I’ve a good mind to give him the slip now, and run the risk of getting them off.” ‘There is no need of that, senor,” quietly said the outlaw, turning toward them with a’ faint smile, ‘‘ You are your own master. Whenever you feel like leaving us, I will bid you God d. When Joaquin makes a friend, it is for life. Whatever is mine, is yours.” Little Volcano made no reply, but none the less did he feel that he was and had been un- grateful, after what the outlaw had ventured in his cause. Shortly afterward the horses were caught and the ride was resumed, nor did they halt again until the little valley was reached, and the out- laws were on greeted by their women, Joaquin looked at Little Volcano a little doubtfully, but then called one of his men, who fp removed the handcuffs. At a motion, ~ otha miner followed Joaquin into one of the nts. The outlaw’s wife was reclining upon a pal- let of furs, but{half-arose, an — hight im her eyes as they entered. With a strange bashful- ness, Little Voleano approached and _ received the warm thanks, almost caresses of Clarina, as the preserver of her life. He could only stam- mer afew words of acknowledgment, and re- treated as quickly as possible. Joaquin follow- ed him, carrying a brace of revolvers, with an 5 gr ape lt, which he pressed upon the bo er. x You must take them,” persisted the outlaw. ‘There is no blood upon them, and if you per- sist in leaving us, they will not come amiss. would offer you horses, but—they might get ou into trouble, as we do not have any papers prove our ownership. Now, my friend— though I wish you would cast your lot with us —you are free as air. Only—remember, some- times, that Joaquin Murieta is not all devil!” CHAPTER XXX. SLEEPY GEORGE AT WORK. “T pip the best I knowed how—swore jest what you told me todo, ’nd I don’t see what owre crawlin’ up my back fer—how could I elp it?’ snarled Sleepy George, looking side- ways at his master, much like a cur that longs to bite, but dreads the consequences. ‘You made an infernal botch of it from first to last, and proved yourself a bigger fool than even I thought you—more than that couldn’t be said,” coolly retorted Long Tom, knocking the ashes from his cigar. The past night had wrought some startling changes in the town of Hard Luck and more than one of its inhabitants. n had been suffered to retreat, taking im the late prisoner, unmolested after the first volley. Then 4x7! energy was di- rected toward the fires. Though there was comparatively no wind, the flames spread ra- pidly, seeping from shanty to cabin, from tents the roofs of dug-outs, as though bent upon entirely destroying the town. Owing to the © scarcity of water, or rather means to handle it there was only one way to fight the fire, and. scor } that method was promptly adopted. A or more dings were torn down—an easy task with such flimsy structures. This was sul~ Gomiecbooks.com