Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 293 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

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Suddenly the scout sprung upward tearing at the boughs, and stood over what he firmly be- lieved to be the corpse of Dora Dale. There she lay, bound and gagged, and secured to the huge limb; a bar of silvery moonlight kissing ber pale, cold face, and playing over her listening eyes—eyes, so filled with relief, and oy, and love, so expressive of soul-felt emo- tions, as caused Steve to call out on the instant, as he severed the cruel gag: “Oh, Dora! Dora! My poor darling!” In another moment she was free, and the next was folded to the breast of Steve, the Scout! Slowly and feebly, the benumbed arms of Dora Dalestole tremblingly upward, her fingers stealing through the dark-brown hair which hung over the young Texan’s shoulders; the moonlight revealing the livid marks, left by the a cords, around the wrists of the tortured irl! ** May Heaven bless and reward you, Steve!” Faintly, and in a zephyr-like whisper came these words from the maiden’s lips. Closer the strong, sinewy arms of the young scout pressed her to his breast; he trembling with the intensity of bis emotions. In after days Dora Dale recalled the fact, that tears fell upon her cheek—tears of sym- thy, of pity, born of the realization of what t innoceut and delicate maiden must have suffered while a captive. At that moment, a far-soundin through the timber from the oak belt. Steve knew that it came from Bob Barr, and that it was a signal of danger, or of warning. CHAPTER XVI. THE OLD, OLD STORY, At Bob’s yell, Dora started convulsively. She knew, as well as the scout did, what it indi- cated. _ It was no wonder, then, that she was affright- yell rung : “Pear nothing,” said Steve, all his weakness vanishing, in a new and stronger thirst for re- eyes flashed amid the dark shades. Stampede Steve was himself again. ‘* Now, hear me,” he said, removing his som- brero, and raising bis hand on high; ‘bere, in the dark solitudes of these moss-draped trees, holding in my arms one who has been so wrong- OY a brace of villains; and who is still in dan- om the plots of a third—here I swear, by my hopes of Heaven, to protect: Dora Dale from those who would insult or injure ber, and to most terribly avenge her for all that she has al- ready suffered!” trong and clear were these rapidly spoken words, and without any show of excitement. _ Then he replaced his sombrero upon his head, and addressed the fair girl, who clung to him, as though he was her only hope. “Dora darling, if you will permit me to call so, this is perhaps the only occasion, for some time, on which we shall be by ourselves; and | must speak the thoughts that are upper- most in my mind and heart, . *] have been providentially guided to you. We met providentially in the first place, and at first sight my whole heart went out to you. I love you, Dora Dale, more than all the world— ‘more than I can possibly express! “Since you, through my negligence have been in the power of those vile wretches, I have suffered ten thousand deaths. I know that you have endured more torture than any one can conceive of; and that you should, at once, be taken to camp, to be cared for; but I wish, . to hear one word from your lips. - “T ask but little, and that little is—may I be our trusted friend? Rough scout as Iam, may hope that you will not consider yourself as disgracing your name, and station in society, by . enizing me as one in whom you can con- Dora drew berself up higher, and clung more closely about Steve’s neck, as she replied: ‘Stephen Speed, I have loved you from the ou had saved me from a horrible death. This is the second time that you have rescued me, ‘Il am yours, Steve, now, and forever, and witbou rve. 1am yours, wholly, not from gratitude, but because I love you!” ~ “Heaven bless you, Dora, for those words! Come, I can conquer the world now. I have been selfish to keep you here so long. ‘Here hangs a lariat—the same, I presume, that those dastards made use of in drawing you Ill fix it about you in such a way .) ae ae tet. | Ei that you will be as easy as if swinging in a ham- * ORES “a « a ) be 3 % » “a r k. | me How Bob Barr will be rejoiced. But I for- can have happened now?” = a ge that yell of his. What in the name of won- a 4 oh + a ae - - a pt - “he? - .) "+ a! —a a ‘Ob, Steve, I shall die if Iam forced to pass through any more horrors! .I[ do hope and pray, that I may be spared from experiencing any such terrors and hopeless despair ” “Trust in me, Dora. I'll not leave you again, and woe to any who would bar our way! ‘*T feel the strength of a dozen men in me, and it will be a black day for those ier villains, when I meet them, which I trust will be soon. ‘* Down you go, my darling! Don’t be afraid; I have the end of the lariat around my waist.” With the greatest possible care, the young scout lckanmed the long-suffering maiden down- ward, until she swung free. Then he followed, going from limb to limb. Soon he leaped to the earth, as if fearful that his prize would vanish; then detaching the lar- iat from her form and from his own waist, he gathered Dora in his strong arms, and strode through thetimber. At length, be broke free from the undergrowth, into the oak belt. There, kneeling in the grass, was Bob Barr, but neither Major Dale nor his horse could be seen. The teamster, as soon as he perceived Steve, and saw that Dora was with him, sprung up, throwing his sombrero in the air in his exulta- tion, . From this manifestation, the scout concluded that nothing disastrous had occurred, neither did any serious danger threaten them, “Rah fer Stampede Steve!” said Bob, rush- ing forward, while at the same time, the young Texan saw the major rise to a sitting posture from the grass. ‘What bas happened, Bob? Why did you give that yell, and where is the major’s horse? I do not understand this. What has been going ‘Wait ontil I gits a squar’ peep et Miss Dora,” was the reply; ‘‘ an’ knows she’sall O. K. But, { reckon thar’d be some purty big thunder- clouds onter yer face, pard, ef sbe warn’t,” Dora held out her hand to Bob Barr, as the latter rushed eagerly up to Steve’s side, delight- ed at seeing her alive and bright, and with the apne kind manner and grateful expression, as of old, “* Dog: gone my ole heart, Miss Dora!” exclaim- ed Bob, impulsively; “ef yer kin half under- stan’ what a powerful ’mount of indig’ I hes bin through since yer war tuck! But me an’ Steve’ll git even on ther deal wi’ ther bellyuns, though they come purty nigh sweepin’ ther board, an’ tuck ther last trick!” “ What do you mean?’ demanded Steve; ‘‘ and what has happened to Major Dale, that he acts so Strangely?’ “Ther major air all hunk, er will be purty soon, We've hed a leetle more hellishness sprink- led onter us. Ther cuss we-’uns captured gut away on ther major’s hoss, arter knockin’ ther ole man on ther head. When [I foun’ him, I thought he war dead gone; an’ thet’s what I gi’n thet yelp fer. Howsomever, I brought him most roun’ ter biz, though his idees air ona gin’- ral stompede till yit.” Before the teamster bad ceased speaking, the scout started toward the major, as Dora gave vent to a cry of anguish and concern, ‘* Put Miss Dora inter his lap, Steve! Thet’ll fotch him ’roun’, I reckon, better’n anythin’, ‘*T hed ter skute ter ther river fer a canteen o’ water and wash his cabase off; but I come back ag’in purty rapid, fer hit struck me sud- dint like, thet arter ther way things bes worked outer this hyer trail, ther major wouldn’t be hyer when I ’roved back. But he lay thar, stiff es a wagon-tongue. ‘*T swar’ I war ’bout lunified, fer I left yer in ther trees, bout bu’sted o’ ther hope o’ findin’ Miss Dora, an’ ther condemned cuss what we- ‘uns s’pected ter squeeze out her locate from, hed levanted.” It was very evident that Bob was so rejoiced at the rescue of Miss Dora, and the recovery of his employer, that he felt obliged to express his joy in words of some kind; an explanation of matters being by him considered on the correct section of the programme about that time. Neither Steve nor Dora realized what the teamster was talking about. Their whole at- tention was centered upon the major, who sat gazing at them as they approached with a va- cant stare, his long gray hair all saturated with water and blood, ‘Oh, papa!” cried out the young girl, in an agony of apprehension, ‘‘oh, what a terrible day and night this has been! Will these dread- ful experiences never end?” this progressing favorably, Dora darling,” returned Steve. ‘‘ We ought to be very thank- ful that your father has escaped death at the hands of that miscreant, and that you are free from their power.” * Ob, yes! I know we ought,” said the maiden; * but it is awful. Poor papa! Poor, dear papa!” Steve placed Dora in her father’s lap, and the poor girl clasped her arms about bis neck, while the tears rained down her pale cheeks, Almost instantly it seemed that Major Dale regained his natural state of mind, upon hear- ing his daughter’s voice; for, with a loud cry | of joy, he wound his arms about his recov- 4 1 ¢ Te | a“ c%, ‘ . y >, ~ “a ; iy) . iad 7” ee eps a iat? ‘. awit “si. ered treasure, and their tears of thankfulness: mingled. Steve Speed turned to the teamster, leaving the father and his child together, and said: ‘* Now, pard, explain! hat in thunder has been going on here? How did that villain es- cape? ‘* Wa-al, Steve, I knows jist bout es much es yer does yerself. I bain’t hed time ter look fer ‘sign,’ but hyer hit air, plain es A, B, C.” As he spoke, Bob Barr picked up from the grass the severed bonds that had been about the arms and legs of Bill Bowers; his eyes and face expressing the utmost amazement, as he con- tinued: a Dog-gone my heart, ef ther cuss warn’t cut loose; an’ he c’u’dn’t ha’ did hit bisself! ‘* Does yer s’pose ther major gut lunified, an” so full o’ fight, on ‘count o’ thinkin’ ’bout how ther hellyun hed tuck Miss Dora, thet he slashed him loose a-purpos’ ter fight him? “Yer know we heerd cur’ous yelps from ther major, arter we-’uns gut up inter ther trees,” Before Bob had more than half-finished, the young scout was moving around here and there, at times upon his knees, bis face close to the ground, and in such a position as not to shade the point he was examining from the moon. Suddenly he sprung to his feet, in astonish- ment. ‘* Wa-al, Steve, what yer foun’?” asked Bob. ‘Tf you go where those two demons left their horses, Bob, you'll find that the animals are not. there. But, waita moment! IT’ll examine the ‘sign’ beyond the place where the major’s horse was staked.” ‘‘ Dang ef thet ain’t dub’ous!” burst out the teamster, in anger and disappointment. ‘* Hyer, I’ve bin countin’ on ridin’ one o’ ther critters back ter camp, an’ Miss Dora takin’ t’other! Now, we-uns het all gut ter ride on Shanks” mare. ‘*Cuss it, Steve, mebbe so they’ve tuk your nag too; an’ thet’ll be a purty kittle o’ fish! “We're all afoot ef they hev, an’ Miss Dora’ll hev ter be kerried in yer arms. ButI don’t reckon thet’ll sot yer back a great heft.” The scout now walked forward a few paces, and then returned to his pard’s side, indicating that he wished to converse privately. The pair therefore sauntered from the imme- diate vicinity of Major Dale and his daughter, who still remained in the same position; clasp- ing each other, as if dreading another separa- tion. | Bob,” said Steve, in a low voice, “the two men whom you threw into the river ped. They met, and recognized each other as pards. Then they mounted the two horses, which bad been Jeft in the ‘‘ open,” and rode through the timber, to the point nearest to where your cap- tive lay. ‘That outlaw was a pard of at least one of them. Then they dashed from the under- growth, knocked the major senseless, cut the captive free, placed him upon Major Dale’s horse, and struck up the river. That’s it, you may depend. ; ‘The two abductors, with Count Broquier— your Dusky Dick—are, about this time, going it pretty lively, through the oaks together, up the river. ‘Your surmise was correct. Count Bro- quier has been, in the past, known to at least one of these miscreants; and he is now confed- erating with them to form a plot of revenge. But you and I will fix their flints yet, or lose a leg.” Khe teamster was silent for some seconds. At length, he broke out, in astonishment and self-condemnation: ‘ Wa-al, Vil jist be dang’d! I war a born idjit, not ter ha’ jabbed my sticker inter both ther cusses, when I bed a chance. ‘* Ye’re jist kerrect, all through; an’ thar’s ther ole boy ter pay, ahead, dead sure! ‘“Mebbe so they’ve skuted up the river, ter crawl inter our camp, an’ raise merry ole Ned!” ‘“‘T don’t think so,” said the scout, ‘‘ They dare not attempt such a thing as that. They have all they can attend to, you may be sure, to keep from being corraled by us, But, we shall see, ‘¢ We'll stil! hunt them, after we get the ma- jor and Miss Dora tocamp. But, there it is— only my horse left! ‘Well, the young lady ean ride the animal, and you and 1 and the major must walk. I'll get my nag at once.” “Ye're mighty right all ’roun’, pard,” re- turned the teamster; ‘I sot things up, ther same sort 0’ way. But, say, Steve, they may be a-layin’ fer we’uns on ther way—whbat yer think?” The last idea was expressed, after the young scout bad gone to bring bis horse; the words seeming to be the expression of a sudden thought, which gave Bob Barr much apprehen- sion, as he glanced toward Dora. In fifteen minutes more, that young lady was mounted upon the scout’s horse, and her father, Steve, and Bob, as rear scouts. The , on foot, escorted the fair girl toward the camp, over the same trail that she had been but the morning previous; but then, borne senseless in the arms of the outlaw, Lasso Lije. gi innit ~ / \ . ‘ f 4 —— P . ¥ ¥ ~ + £ tet *) © ere Fi b ‘ os jie y Te = mm, —" r vf.