Beadle's Dime Library, Vol. III, No. 29 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

es a him, and he is run off somewhere, and nobody ever hears of him again, that’s jest the size of our pile, | ain't it?” “Recorded! Go on.” “Then the cashier can break cover, and search be made for the victim of a fatal mistake, and all that sort of thing, but nothing will come of it. And every- thing will be lovely, with the goose at its wonted ele- vation,” ‘Reads like a play; but how is it to be done?” ‘‘A couple of sharps that wear MeFarland’s and O'Toole’s size of boots find the fugitive, dog him from pillar to post, and make him think that all the world is on the particular reward. He runs to cover and keeps mighty close. Whenever he shows his head, they are on hand to shove a poster under his nose. W @ gets away where nobody about him, he suddenly quits the stage and the cur- tain drops.” * Anything at all to turn an honest penny,” said O'Toole, rubbing his hands briskly. ui vive to get their claws on that | hen | will know anything | | made up my mind that that flat shouldn This was the project that was carried out, and | Powell was run to earth by his implacable foe. But it took more than a week to do it; and in that time McFarland and O'Toole held no communication with their allies, because of being constantly on the move, and knew nothing of incidents that were oc- oe at home. On t friendship with Mr. Dra ed the look on his face. ‘Pard,” he said, “the game's gone up—smashed —played—bu’sted hd he ** deco chair, with his arms resting along the back and sup- porting his chin, His hat was tilted on the back part of his head, his eyes rested on the floor, and the cor- ners of his mouth drooped. Altogether he was about as crestfallen an individual as one need wish to see. His own words, perhaps, d him ‘most accu- rately: ‘Gone u p—smashed—played—bu'sted ab per, Billy Saunderson enter- Tiger Dick was puzzled whether to laugh or look | ve, en ae ain't drunk, Billy?’ he asked, looking at him curiously, “Narry drunk!” affirmed Billy, in the same de- jected tone. ** What’s the row, then?” “TI told Ser we're laid on the shelf—cleaned out —scooped The enemy can double-discount us ve us points, let us count our own game, and hen flax us all to thunder!” “Stop shuffling the cards under the table, and perhaps we'll find out what we're playing for.” “Cap, the black-eyed Peri, as you call her, has blocked our game.” “* How so?’ “She and Brewster has put their heads together, and got some sharp from foreign parts to back ‘em, and they know our hand by heart. I heard the strange sharp showing it up to Brewster last night, and he read it off like a book.” me he deuce you did. What have they found ou ” “The whole bill. He told me things that I didn't | know. Boss, he layed a dirty trick on me last night. He showed up as if he was a New York and won my confidence. I confess I showed myself a flat; but he knowed so much more than I did already that I couldn't tell him nothing.” Did you tell him anything?’ asked the Tiger, with an ominous frown. “I didn’t tell him nothing about that key busi- ness; [ll swear to that. But he got me mellow and after he had bragged about the dodges he'd been up to in New York, I was fool enough to try to call him. I told him that I had showed lots of fellows the elephant, and Fred Powell among the number. That's all I said about this case, so help me!” Did you tell him that you drug ed Fred’s wine?”’ to tell him that; I don't “I was jest fool enoug deny it. But, afterward, I found that he had been stuffing me, and laid for him at Brewster's house and heard him at parting talk the whole thing off as straight as a string—the Se af’ and key and all. They’d clap Beaumont into the jug, as sure as a gun, if he wasn’t in the bone-yard.”’ iger Dick then questioned the ‘decoy duck" in de and saw the storm that hung above Cecil, should it be discovered that he was not dead, This unexpected turn of events effectually precluded tho return of the cashier to his home, Nothing but the belief that red was a murderer prevented an ex tion of the whole plot. Tiger Dick went that Se in a very reckless m to the cave where Cecil was in hiding. ‘* Well, the game’s up, pard, at last,’’ he said. “You've got to stay u in the bone-yard, and Ill have to take a changé of air for my health. If you was to stick your nose out of this holo in the [ahaa they'd clap you into Castle Cross-bar be- ore you could say * Jack Robi'son!’ and as quick as they get over this search for young Powell, they'll make the place too hot for me. Hence, I seek new ficlds and pastures green; in other words, I va- mose the ranch—obsquostulate—slope—git!” Cecil saw that the Tiger had been drinking, and heavily, too; for it was an unusual thing for him to be thrown off his balance. He learned that Billy Saunderson had told the Tiger, and more that had been gathered by Shadow Jim. He saw that all his lots were laid bare, and that his reappearance be- ore the world would be the signal ior an n- ment that would eventuate in his incarceration in a felon's cell. He had played a hazardous game, and lost all—all but this last point. At least he had erushed his rival. Fred could not long elude the ursuit of McKarland and O'Toole; or, failing there, he gallows awaited him at the hands of the law. And at the eng Cecil Beaumont set his teeth and chuckled with fiendish joy. In those few mo- ments a marked c e had come over him. Cut off from a return to the world in his proper charac- ter, a wild recklessness came into his look and air that had not agpeared there before. ia 0 wey pard,’ pursued the Tiger, breaking in up- on his thoughts, “that black-eyed angel’s a clipper; ¥ Jove, she is! Fate never meant her to be thrown aWay on such a bloke as Powell. No, sir! It'll take &itnon of genius to be a fit mate for her. What do you think of your humble servant? ‘Liger Dick, alias 1¢ morning after his interview and sworn | | | | duck” had thrown himself astride a | | | | | | | King Monte, of Yellow-sand Gulch, and everywhere- else-in-the-diggings, California?” He thrust his thumbs through the armholes of his Mie, and leaning back, favored Cecil with a drunken eer. A wild gleam of hatred and jealousy leaped into Cecil Beaumont’s eyes; but he hid it beneath the Song HS, and pone the decanter toward the the * ick poured out some liquor, and said confi- entially: “The first day I got a squint at her pretty face, I tholda hand in that game, She gave me her hand likea princess, and that was my first lesson in the grand assion. I've seen a good many pretty women, but never was set afloat fh Paradise before. Boss, that girl’s going to run off with a soldier—see if she don’t —and I'm that soldier!” When the Tiger had taken his leave, Cecil ground his teeth in rage, and shook his fist in the direction of the mouth of the cave. “We'll see who gets her!’’ he said, with a look of iron determination. Then he disguised himself, and leaving the cave, followed Tiger Dick to the city. Here he went toa cabman, whom he knew money would make:blind, _ deaf anddumb. Of him he engaged a carriage, to be in readiness on the following night. Then he pro- duced a saddle-horse; and when he returned with him just before the break of dawn, the animal was reeking with sweat, showing that he had been ridden sresence of Tiger Dick with a very doleful | hard all night, Cecil then wrote the note which Florence supposed to be from her lover, and secured its delivery by a broken-down theater actor. “We'll see who gets her'’ he muttered again, as he repaired to the cave, CHAPTER VIBE. AN ABDUCTION. When he entered the cave, Cecil Beaumont had before him one of the most trying days of his life; a day in which his breast was a py, successive ecstasies of love, hate and anxiety. Everything be- ing in readiness for the execution of his last and crowning plot, he had but to await the time, with his enanes as his only companions. “That is the way with them,” he said, thinking of his relations with May; “they will lavish their affections upon some cuss like me, when they wouldn't give an: honest man a second look. I pity her; for she loves me, as few can. But the rose outblooms the dandelion, and the moon pales be- fore the noonday sun. Oh, heavens! if she would come to me of her own free will! If she would lay her cheek to mine, and call me ‘ Cecil!’ He clasped his hands over his face, and shook from head to foot at the thought. “But no; she will hate me, She will curse me with her every breath. Be it so. I could not live and know that she was in the power of that fiend Tiger Dick. Ah! how well he is named! ButI w save her from him, if she makes every moment of my life a burning hell with her scorn,” hen his thoughts took fnother turn. “Sixty thousand dollars!” he said. ‘‘She shall be a queen while it lasts, whatever may follow. I will lavish upon her ajl that money can buy. Oh! that I could buy one moment of love! But no. Gilding her chains will only make them the more galling. Oh, Florence! how Ilove you! And yet Iam going to bring upon your life such a blight as only a fien could meditate!” With such thoughts he passed the day, and at the |}. approach of night, as indicated by his watch, he went into one of the galleries that ramified from the main cave, lighting his way with a pine knot. Atits furthest pie ac he dug down into the sand that had been collected by the action of water, and drew forth the sachel in which fs a Dick had placed the money taken from the bank. Then he returned to the main chamber and stole forth into the night. A walk of an hour brought him to a where he took up a position nd a large oak. Within twenty minutes ac approached from the di- rection of the Mississippi, and as it neared the spot, the driver began to whistle a popular air, and slack- ened the pace of his horse. At signal Cecil ste d boldly out into the road; the carriage stopped; e leaped in, and was whirled rapidly away. It would be vain to attempt tod the emo- tions of Cecil Beaumont, as he stood in the little bower at the side of the bridle-path leading from Griggs's Hollow, awaiting the coming of the woman he most deeply joved—the woman against whom he meditated an irreparable wrong. With clamm hands and fevered brow he st shaking as wit anague. Then a light step came down the path. It sounded hurried; and he could imagine how wildly her heart was beating with hope and love and fear. He took a rep forward with a swimming, dizzy sensation—a wild ecstasy of exultation and love and bent She nate him and sprung toward him with a rippling, tremulous cry: ered! oh, Fred! how glad I—"” He felt her arms go about his neck. Their touch was like fire, and thrilled him to the heart. He clasped her in a frenzied embrace. He felt her breath on his cheek. All his soul went into his lips to receive that one kiss, glowing with the fervor of her mighty love. But in that moment a thrill of 7 he ear, a shiver of loathing and horror, shot through her frame; she gave a frantic wrench to free herself, and struck him full on the mouth with her hand. Caught like a bird in the toils of acer, her heart seemed to leap from her throat in one wil shriek of terror, and then she sunk limp and lifeless in his arms, With hurried step, Cecil carried her out to the road. The carriage drove up and a man lea out, Asif by previous understanding, he moun Florence's horse and dashed away. en Cecil entered the carriage, the driver whipped his horses, and they flew over the ground, bearing Florence Goldthorp from her home to an unknown fate. It was hours before Florence Gold thar awoke from that deathlike swoon, and then the first gray streaxs of dawn were appearing in the east. At first she was only omy conscious of the rocking motion of a carriage. 1en she knew that some one was ee her hand and looking anxiously into her ace, Tiger Dick, The Faro King. “Thank God that you have recovered at last! I a7 —_— feared that I had lost you,” said a voice that sound- ed far away. It sent a thrill through her frame, she ecrugniee back into consciousness, and all the terrible reality burst upon her. With a cry of loathing and horror, she snatched away her hand and shrunk into the corner of the carriage. Cecil Beaumont leaned back and covered his face with his bands. With a sudden spring Florence clutched the hand] of the door, intending to throw herself out. Cec caught her and forced her gently, yet firmly back into her seat. ) “You can but recognize the futility of any at- tempt to escape,” he said. ‘I do not intend to harm you, but I must not be thwarted in my a pose. I shall resort to only such measures of re- hae as are rendered necessary by your deport- ment,” She glanced out.of the window, She saw only a desolaie wilderness on every side. “If you should scream, there is no one to hear you,” he said, divining her thought. “Who are you?" she asked, peering at him through the gloom; for there seemed something familiar his voice. For answer he removed the false whiskers and lasses. IT lorence started violently, and then leaned orward jn a close scrutiny. ‘*Mr. Beaumont!" she whispered, with supersti- tious terror in her voice, ae same, and in the flesh,” he replied, witha smile. ‘s She passed her hand across her forehead in a dazed way. She could not believe the evidence of ber Seners mae there he sat before her, his form, 8 face, his voice. “Mr. Beaumont!" she repeated to herself. ‘ Alive! —can it be, alive?” ‘‘Never more so,” he replied, in an ofi'-hand way. “And you were not killed at Dead Man's Bluff? But they buried Cecil Beaumont!”’ “That's when they fooled themselves. Did you never see two men much alike?" “Then Frederick is not a murderer!" She trembled from head to foot with the idea. Cecil Beaumont only smiled, “Why did you not pee and clear him from that dreadful charge?’ she demanded, suddenly “For reasons,” was the laconic rm ply; “but the gleam of hatred that convulsed his face told more than words could have. é A chilling terror took possession of her as she slowly evolved the truth in her mind, and she next demanded in a husky tone: “Why have you stolen me from my home?” ‘** Because I love you.” She shuddered. “ And what do you purpose to do with me?” “Marry you!" he replied, in a thrilling tone, ing at her witha aeranne mingling of with love on. and exultant antici She affected to laugh at him, but a shiver ran through her frame. ‘“Marry me?” she repeated; “and who will you get to perform such a ceremony? Ihave but to de- nounce your villainy, and be free from you.” “The minister whom I have employed will be deaf to your appeals.” e shuddered and looked terrified. “Do not fear,’ he went on, divining her thought, “but that he is a cSt ordained clergyman; for I love you truly, and am determined to make you in reality my wife; but money is his only god." ‘But I will never consent. I will make no re- sponses, I will spurn you. Such a mummery will not have a shadow of legality about it.’ s Oh, yes it will, if you subsequentiy acknowledge “ But I will never acknowledge it. I loathe vou; I abhor you; I will denounce you at the first oppor- tunity. No, I would die a thousand deaths before I would acknowledge so loathsome a Lond. ‘“You may be glad to,’ was all he replied. A shiver ran through her frame, “What do you mean?’ she asked, in a scared voice. He had restrained his emotions with an iron hand. Now they burst from his control. “What do I mean?” he cried, with conyvulsed fea- tures. ‘* Paradoxical as it may sound, I mean that I love you with a tenderness which shudders that harm should come toa hair of your head, and that loving you like this, I am_ about to blight your lite and crush your heart with my own band!’ I mean that 4 soul is being rent in twain by the conflict of all that is pure and holy in my love for you plead- & for your restoration unharmed to your home and friends, and all that is ignoble and devilish in my love for ycu goading me to ) ossess you at all The intensity of his passion was like a vivid gleam of lightning, revealing his dark nature to her in lines. of fire. She saw the rg of those forces, as he described it. If she could only stimulate the rood! ‘Let the noble part o your nature prevail!” she leaded, with clasped hands. “You say that you sores ms and could you destroy me in the same rea ‘Ob, God! how I love you!” he cried. wi clasped over his face. ! ee een; “You will rot consummate this terrible wrong! You will return me to my home, and I will bless you with my dying breath!" fo me, a Icannot! Oh, heaven! I cannot give “See! see!’ she cried, her bosom fluttering be- twee hope and despair; “ goon can take me back, and I will never betray you. Every one thinks you dead. You can go away and begin life anew—a nobler, bet- ter life. The consciousness of having resisted this: temptation—this one victory of the good—will stimu- late you to perseverance in uprightness. Do this no- ble action! You will never have cause to repent it. You will date your new life from to-day, and bless the inspiration that prevailed over you.’ He wrung his hands in agony. He pleaded with her, in almost groveling supplication, ‘Florence, listen! I have wealth. I will lavish upon you everything that heart can wish and money can buy. For the rest, I will love you as never be- fore was woman loved. I will be your slave, and in return ask only asmile and the poor privilege of kiss- ing your hand.” Gboo (E(@) mm cs) E(@)