Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 293 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

’ hy « ~ e iy ‘ > > 1 Stampede Steve. , After being tortured by such thoughts as had so recently ruled her mind, to remain as she was for the night did not seem so great a tor- ture to her, when she was buoyed up with the hope of release in the morning. From the time that the yell sounded, hope again entered Dora's heart, and she listened intently—the one sense that sbe could employ—to gain any idea as to what was transpiring so near her. For a few minutes she heard nothing. Si- lence, deep and profound, ruled the timber. Then, out besonit the ribbon of trees that bor- dered the river, as she judged, Dora heard fran- tic outcries, which drew nearer and nearer; as if he who uttered them was dashing, at a gallop, down tbe border of the timber. As the rider advanced, bis voice sounded more distinct, and was expressive of an anguish that seemed al- most insupportable. Suddenly, as it seemed, the rider turned a bend in the timber; when, clear and wild, sounded the cries, now plainly distinguishable: “Dora! Dora, my darling! Where are you? Where have the fiends taken her? They sball not tear my child from me! Villains, dastards, miscreants—give me back my cbild!” The reader can imagine the agony of the daugh- ter, on hearing these piteous cries from her fa- ther, and she powerless to answer bim, The cries ceased, and then Dora heard other voices, : A friend had, evidently, stopped her father, and was telling him what had thus far, been ac- complished, She could not recognize the speaker at first, but soon a voice, loud and clear, rung in ber ears. “Dora! Oh, Dora, I say! Where are you? Friends are at band, and your enemies are gone. You are safe! ‘* Your father, is here. Call out, that we may find you. Speak! Can’t you hear us? **O—o—oh, Dora! Dora Dale! Don’t you re- cognize my voice? It is I—your friend, Stephex Speed! Dora! O—o—oh, Dora!” Again all was silent as the grave, No outery, no answer to the anguished hearts of those who listened so breathlessly. It was terrible on both sides. She so near them, and unable to make her presence known —they, in the agonies of an apprehension the most fearful! a CHAPTER XI. IN PARALLEL LINES, STEVE, the Scout, bad followed the trail, at some places finding it quite difficult to detect the ‘‘sign.” However, he reached the near _ vicinity of the point where the abductors had swerved from the course they had so long traveled, and had turned toward the timber of the Guadalupe, soon after the sun had passed ‘meridian. _ The young scout at once decided correctly in *, agate to the object of the outlaws, ny y bad kept within the oak openings, not daring to venture on the open plain; as any, who might follow to rescue Dora, would observe them, and give chase. But, having remained in the oak belt as long as they thought prudent, they had taken to the timber, with the evident wf a. wo af r ~~ "es : Saye "oe, Uys | af arr" ‘ 9 By intention of secreting themselves until darkness _ should favor their departure, Without doubt they would use eve in their power to avoid leaving ‘sign.’ Thus Steve reasoned, and in place of follow- means . ing the plain trail further, he turned in a direct course north, to the dense timber. There he secreted bis horse in an “ open” within the Steve was in great anxiety of mind in regard to the safety and condition of the maiden whom r he sought. The distress of her father bad af- fected the scout deeply, in addition to the in- > hac he felt in the beautiful girl. ie ‘ . * oe 2 resolved that Major Dale should not only have bis daughter restored to him, but that be should be freed from the persecutions of the _ perfidious count, and that he himself would ac- - complish both, He wanted no more se Bah in view than the unmasking of such a ar? in; but he concluded that he could not hope for much assistance in J i ae hat line from the old . _ planter, although the latter was the person who was chiefly interested. id he believe that Dora could give 4 et any information concerning the power that « r Broquier beld over her father. Yet the young scout was no less determined to tear the - mask from the so-called count without such clew. _. Had he known that the individual in ques- tion was but a short distance from where be then stood—that the count had run, tearing through thickets like a maniac, in order to 7 im in sight, and carry out a fiendish plot be had concocted when crouched in the grass - by the ford, be could scarce have been more cautious, First, however, all his energies must be bent upon the rescue of Dora. He therefore strove to believe that the maiden was, thus far, safe and free from suffering, except the terror and -. concern occasioned by her capture. nat Steve believed Dora Dale would reason that, as he had left to find her horse, he would have soon returned, and finding her gone, would at once decide what had happened. In that case she could not be hopeless. | | did not attempt the life of the man he so feared and hated. First, if he did so, the abuctors of Dora would become alarmed, and fly, bearing with This was a consolation to him which nerved | them the maiden who, be had sworn, should him on in bis most difficult task, all his skill as | be his together with her ample fortune, a scout being needed to be able to glide through | Even did they not flee, they might, guided the timber and undergrowth without betraying | by the report of bis pistol, steal upon him, and his presence. He bad but little hope, however, of tracing the abductors to their covert, after he had discovered their horses. Fully two hours were occupied by the young scout in striking the horse-trail after it had en- tered the timber. Then he crawled upon his hands and knees to the natural ‘‘ open” where the animals bad been left, lariated to bushes. This was the end of the trail. To follow the footsteps of the abductors, on the thick carpet of leaves amid the shades, would have been next to impossible, even to an Apache, At certain places they could not avoid bend- ing and even breaking bushes and twigs, yet, after hours of stealthy search Steve was forced to admit himself baffled. He felt that, did he expose himself to ng sodet f or make any unusual noise, the villains would be doubly cau- tious in their departure, taking measures that would very probably put all chance of rescuo out of the question. The silence, especially when the young scout was so eonfident that Dora was very near him, made bim think that she must be bound and gagged. ; He was positive that the miscreants would not venture to leave the bottom-timber until darkness covered their flight, and he determined when the sun had set to hasten and secrete him- self on the border of the “‘ open” in which the horses had been secured, and there await the coming of the abductors. Steve was confident that he could rescue the maiden—-indeed, be had no doubts on the sub- ject, or he would have become frantic durin the long delay. He was nerved by a strengt and fury that made him feel equal to tearing the wretches limb from limb; indeed, he could scarce contain himself when he thought of Dora’s probable position. Little dreamed he that several times the ser- pe es of Broquier had shot glances of atred and fury from different coverts at him; that he had himself been the means of guiding the man he so detested, on the trail of the ab- ductors, But so it was; for at times the count had halt- ed in his mad rush, to peep from the outer ta of the undergrowth and satisfy himself that the scout was within view. The wily scoundrel had detected the halt of Steve, and knew that the latter must have arrived in the vicinity of the ones he sought. Many times had he been in a position to shoot the scout, but no movement Sey make, though he had sworn to have his His dark face would become more fiendish in expression, but yet, by a powerful effort of will be would control himself, and with a demon smile draw back into the gloomier shades, Why was this? The plot which the dastard had formed while crouching in the grass, will explain. He bad resolved to follow Steve, using him as his guide, by keeping bim in view. Broquier felt that such a man as the young scout would keep his oath, and rescue Dora Dale; in fact, the villaia had no doubt in this respect, until he had watched his foe during the fruitless search for ‘sign ’—then he began tu grow restive and im- patient. But, as the cunning sneak eventually heard the whisking of the horses’ tails, and recalled the fact that Steve had been within the thick- ets, where the animals then were, be under- stood why the scout lingered, after searching in vain for evidences of the lurking-place of the outlaws. His plans, then, seemed more reasonable. He had resolved to await until Stampede Steve should have rescued Dora, and slain her captors—as ha felt sure the young man, in his fury, would accomplish—then he would kill Steve, and bear Dora back to camp. No doubt the maiden would faint during the conflict, and he would swear that one of the outlaws had killed her preserver, and thrown the corpse, as well as that of his comrade— whom Broquier would state that Steve had slain—into the river. In this way, the count was convinced that he could settle it all to his own satisfaction. By carrying out this plan, not only would he gain his coveted revenge, but Dora Dale would feel that she owed ber life to him. When Count Broquier thought over this plan, his exultation was great, and his joy extreme. He would use his enemy, who had so humili- ated bim, asa tool to work out the very aim, which he was assured the scout had sworn to defeat. : This was the explanation of the count’s course. This was the reason that the miscreant did not make any hostile movement, when he had the life of the young scou: in his power. But there was a very strong reason outside of the consideration of bis plans, why Broquier | i i TT TT TTT TTT TTT TT TTT TTT TTT TTT TT TTT TTT TTT TT TTT TTT ttttEtttttHttCCtCCC TC THGHtttCCCGOGOOGtCRLTL LT —_—_—_—o—_——_—nhke>ee>Eg > ; eeEeeeeEeE—— YL murder him. Nothing was more likely. He dared not trust to his knife, for he was well assured that: the scout would master him in any such quarrel; and slay him, even though he might himself recelve a mortal wound. This will explain the position and object of the two men, who were now in the neighbor- hood of Dora and her captors. But there was still another, and that was Bob Barr, the teamster. He had followed the count, like a sleuth-hound, and bad reached the halting place of the abductors soon after Bro- quier. Keeping in the vicinity of the count, Bob watched him as a cat would a mouse, crawling, snake-like, after Broquier; and, had the latter made the slightest attempt to harm the young scout, the teamster would have sprung upon him, and plunged his knife into bis heart. Thus, three persons were in the undergrowth —Steve Speed, with his heart and soul bent upon the rescue of Dora Dale, and the punish- ment of ber cowardly abductors: Count Bro- quier, waiting for the expected rescue, when he intended to kill the scout, and carry Dora back to the camp of her father; and Bob Barr, ren- dered furious every time he caught sight of the count, and bent upon the death of the latter, or the frustrating of any attempt he might make upon Steve. The scout knew nothing of the near presence of the others. Broquier was ignorant that the teamster was anywhere near. But the latter was posted as to the movements of both; and was also confident that the outlaws, with their fair captive, were close at hand. He crouched, therefore, with senses strained, ready, at any moment, to take a band in the expected encounter and rescue; or, at least, to forward the efforts of Steve, the Scout. CHAPTER XII. THE WORK WELL BEGUN. Just previous to the time when the outlaws were first alarmed by the neighing of one of their horses, Steve had stolen silently to his own animal, to procure some cartridges from his saddle-bags; and, consequently, he was not — the tree, at the time the whisky-bottle fell. Had the young scout remained where he was, doubtless events would have taken a different turn: for the abductors would have had him at a very decided advantage, had he climbed the tree in which they were. And this he probably would have done. Thus, all happened for the best. But, in this way, the fall of the bottle, and the descent of Lasso Lije, from the tree, were both unknown to Steve : Broquier, however, bad not observed the young man’s movement; and, as he failed, upon stealthy search, to discover the scout, he be- came furious, and started to investigate mat- ters. This led bim directly toward the tree, at the very time that Lije and Bill were gazing downward, The fall of the bottle increased the count’s alarm and excitement, but it gave him a clew. Until then, he had not thought of the abduc- tors, and their captive, as being in the tree-tops; but be was now convinced that such was the case, and he climbed the tall stump to recon- noiter. Bob Barr was also greatly excited, for he believed that the captors of Dora were about to depart; and, if so, the poor girl might be taken bevond all hope of rescue. Noticing the actions of Broquier, the team- ster became infuriated and resolved upon im- mediate action, reasoning that he could be of no assistance to Steve or Dora if he merely kept on the trail of the count. b was almost frenzied at the disappearance of the young scout and the movements of Broquier. He, therefore, stole fast on the trail of the latter, determined to throw bim out of the game, and to do all in his power to find Dora by co-oper- ating with Steve. When the bottle fell, Bob was too distant to locate it; but it caused him to decide at once that the outlaws were secreted in the tree-tops, and not far from his position. Again the sound made by the horse was an- swered by another animal up the river. The teamster was almost beside himself with self-condemnation at having wasted so much time, feeling that Steve needed support, for that the dastards were now preparing for the start. Stealing forward rapidly, Bob perceived the legs of Broquier—that worthy being om the dead tree—and he Jost no further time, ith the fury of desperation be clutched the count, jerked him downward, dashed with him to- ward the river, and, with herculean strength, hurled the sneaking and howling miscreant a ee oe JOOKS-¢ = es