Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 302 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

ee ee eee ~ om 4a? t ~Wi Faro Saul, the Handsome Hercules. ES it? Feel like ye had jumped outside of a cork- screw, I shouldn’t wonder! Folks will git that way, sometimes.” The masked man tore down a lamp from the opposite side of the room, rushing back and holding it close to the face of the prisoner, staring savagely into it, growling like an infuri- ated wild beast. Then be snatched up the fallen — and glanced swiftly from it to the ace. The picture was of a moderately good-looking man in the prime of life, dressed at the time it was taken in clothes of a semi-official cut. A heevy mustache shaded his lips, but otherwise the face was smooth-shorn, Until the instant when he tore off that hairy disguise, the masked man would unbesitating] have taken his oath the two faces were identical ; that his prisoner was none other than the man there pictured. But now! There was not the most remote resemblance, in feature, in outline, in any One respect, In the picture, the chin was square and firm: in the man, it was pointed, a little receding. In the picture, the eyes were truly set, keen and piercing: those of the man had a slight, though unmistakable obliquity of vision. And so it was with each feature as they were taken and studied in detail. Though the difference might be but slight at a casual glance, the closer it was exitininud the more pronounced it grew. And with a grating curse, the masked man hurled the photograph aside, saying: ‘You cunning devil! try as you may, I will trap you yet! I know that you are Frank Deckwright, and that is a recent likeness of him. You have altered your countenance until your own mother would forswear you, buf you can’t keep it up forever! Sooner or later we'll catch you napping!” ‘Waal, now, you do take it powerful hard, don’t ye? A durn shame to pester a ’greeable cuss like you, it jes’ is/ Thar, honey, don’t worry over it. Ruther then make you suffer sech misery, durned ef I don’t resk a lie or two! I'm Frank Deckwright, pictur’ or no pictur’— so thar! Does it make you feel any more salubrious, hon, ?” “Even your impudence will not save you,” said the masked man, recovering his wonted composure with a visible effort, picking up the photograph and carefully placing it in his bosom once more, ‘‘ You are Frank Deckwright, let your face be that of a devil or of an angel!” ““Ef you're so dead sart/in, why in thunder an’ guns don’t ye prove it, then?’ coolly de- manded the prisoner. ‘‘Tt is proven!” cried a deep, mellow tone, as the curtain parted once more and two figures entered the apartment. There was no possibility of mistaking at least one of the twain. No other man in all that region could boast of such altitude, combined th such perfect me rtions. Though a mask of crape covered the face to the tip of the aity imperial, Faro Saul, the giant gambler of Enough could not be mistaken for any other man. His companion was like an infant beside a full-grown man, when compared with his gigan- tic hight and breadth. As with him, a mask was worn, while a loose robe of black disguised the form it covered, but seeing them in com- pany, any citizen of that mining-camp would not have hesitated long before pronouncing the name of Queen Titania, the woman faro- dealer. Old Pap Weatherwax stared placidly at the new-comers, not a trace of fear or anxiety showing in his eyes or on his face. Instead, he seemed disposed to make a jest of the occasion, for in a drawling tone he uttered: “The big man an’ the little woman! When is the rest o’ the menadgery comin’, mister?” Faro Saul made him no reply, but turning to the other man, he motioned one hand toward the point where he had parted the curtains in entering, saying: “You can go. I will attend to the rest. Keep within call in case you should be needed.” Bowing low, the man left the apartment. With arms folded across his chest, the Her- cules stood for some moments gazing steadily into the face of the prisoner, who placidly re- turned the compliment. His face was still that revealed by the first man, and the peculiar squint still marked his organs of sight. If not his natural countenance, then he was _ provin himself an actor of extraordinary skill an nerve. “ This bids fair to be a rene speculation of yours, my dear fellow!” at length said the gambler, “I want to know!” ejaculated the prisoner, his eyebrows uplifting after a peculiar fashion. “You don’t say!” ‘You are a bold, cunning, gritty blood- hound, but this time you took hold of a con- tract bigger than your ealiber justified. Better for you had you been content to rest on the many laurels already won. Then your name would have been remembered with pride by your fellows, and pointed out to your succes- sor as that of one who never lost a trail when once be had taken the scent—who never yet reached out for a victim but he held his grip I | Lt until the law relieved him of his prey forever. A proud buast, for one of your kidney; but as nothing succeeds like success, so nothing damns a@ man sooner than failure. Make one false step allow yourself to be outwitted for a single time —and all that went before is forgotten; only the bit of botch-work is remembered. And thus it will be with you, Frank Deckwright!” ‘Nother ’stallment from a crazy-bouse, or ’m a yowltin’ liar!” muttered Old Pap Weatherwax, with a snort of utter disgust. “ Durned ef I don’t leave sech a cussed kentry, ef I hev to steal a pa’r o’ wings fer to tote me away |” “You play your part well, bloodhound!” sneered the big gambler, his black eyes flashin through the eyelets in his mask. “ But it is o no use. I have looked upon your face when you little thought of such a thing. It was by my orders you were taken prisoner and brought here, though at first it was only a strong sus- picion that actuated me. It wasby my orders your were questioned so closely in that other room, for I hoped to break down your will and extract a full confession from your lips before killing you.” “Which the pizen imp got, but he wouldn’t b’lieve it, don’t you think!” ejaculated the an- cient in a tone of injured disgust. ‘‘I tole bim who I was, an’ ’manded he should treat me ’cordin’ to my sect; but he wouldn’t. He went as far as to Bay I was a durned liar right from head-waters!’ ‘You persisted in denying your identity.” ‘*] didn’t nuther!” indignantly. ‘‘1 tole him, ca’mly, cornfidentually, that I was Kate Bender, jest w’arin’ the trowserloons fer a change; but he lawghed at me—the onmanner- ly critter!” “ It was by my orders that you were chloro- formed, when no other means would serve. And it was really my intention to bury you alive, rather than run any chances, when you were saved as by a miracle. A letter came to me from a pard in St. Louis, warning me that Frank Deckwright had left for the West, and that he believed the trip concerned me intimately. In that letter was a photograph of the human bloodhound. With it in my hand, I paid you a visit, just as my orders were being pat into execution. You were dragged from the grave, and the false wig and beard soaked off your face. Then, with’ you lying before me like a corpse, I closely compared the two faces. You bad sacrificed your mustache, but that did not alter your face so much as to make the re- cognition at all difficult. True, your eyes were closed, and when I pried up the lids, the balls looked dim and glassy; but the other points were quite sufficient. Beyond a doubt you were the living original of the photograph, and re- solved to extract the whole truth from your lips, 1 had you bound to this chair and left to recover your senses. When you did so, my man confronted Aes with the picture, but he must have played his cards clumsily and let you divine his purpose, for you have changed your features until, had I not taken those precautions, even I might have been deceived!” ‘Say, you!” uttered Old Pep Weatherwax, inatone of awe, as the gambler ceased speak- ing. ‘*Do you know all that by jes’ your nat’- ral supply o’ wind, or bev ye got a talkin’ fact’ry inside you? Ge-lawsey! what a power- ful ’zorter you would make fer a camp-meetin’ ef on’y you wasn’t sech a turrible onregenerated sort o’ critter!” A low, musical laugh parted the lips of the masked woman at this impudent speech, and even Saul Oberlin made some show of joining in. ‘*' You will find that I can act as well as talk, my dear Deckwright,” he said, significantly. “Still that name? Fer sake 0’ happiness cain’é you give us a teenty little rest?” be d the prisoner. ‘ It’s gittin’ too durned mosquito- barry fer any use!” “You still deny that your name is Frank Deckwright?” ‘*D’ye want me to tell a lie?’ indignantly. “To keep from telling one, rather. But it matters little whether you make the admission or not. AsI told you when I first entered, your identity is already proved. Not alone by the le ip though that satisfied me fully: but ere 1s a living witness that you are Frank Deckwright. Queen Titania!” As he pronounced this name, the woman re- moved her mask, gazing steadily into the fece of the prisoner, who as intently returned the look. For some minutes neither a It was a beautiful face into which Old Pap Weatherwax gazed, just then, Only that the face seemed a trifle thinner, the color less pronounc- ed, while the hair was almost jetty black, cut short and worn in little curling locks, the face was that of the fair young pilgrim who played such a peculiar part in the stage coach tragedy, two days before! _ “Do you dare deny your name now, you per- ured traitor?’ at length cried Queen Titania, er dark eyes flashing with a fire that seemed as though it would scorch whatever it fell upon. ‘You are Frank Deckwright, the right bower of Albert J. Stiles, the chief. You are a blood- hound by profession, even as you are one by in- 21 stinct. I know you—to my sorrow! Dare you deny the truth of what I say?’ ‘*Not so long as you w’ar the pettycuts, ma’am,” with a bow as profound as the nature of his bonds would permit. “ I’m gittin’ pritty well ‘long in years, but they’s too biga streak o” perliteness left in my compersition fer that!” * Bah!” witb a flash of bitter scorn that ceus- ed her eyes to glow like fireflies in the dark. ‘““You try to evade the point. k at me closely. rn your memory back a little, and wes say whetber or no you ever met me be- ore, **Tt don’t take sech a mighty stretch fer that. I hev see’d ye afore, an’ mighty glad 1 am to see ye ag’in.” “Yet you deny that you are Frank Deck- wright?’ ‘What has that got todo with it?” in a tone of surprise. ‘* You didn’t go by that name then, an’ I’m mighty sare J didn’t. Then you was Miss Stella Timberlake; a pritty name witha oo pritty little woman fer ter kerry it, ef I may say so ’thout givin’ no ’fense! An’ a mighty ’cute trick you played fer to git hold o” them ducats, too! Rivy pou didn’t give the ole man a hint in time. ‘e might ’a’ gone in ca- hoots!”’ ‘* You will never live to repeat those words!” with a little oath beneath ber breath as she turned abruptly away from the prisoner, ‘‘Saul, 1 ask one favor of you: give me this man to deal with as the fancy strikes me!” **On one condition.” ** And that is?” ‘*Tbhat you swear truly you will not give him his life.” ‘A short laugh parted her red lips; a laugh that was musical enough in itself, but carrying with it a threat that could not have been more plainly expressed in words, “Give him his life? That perjured traitor? If you knew all! I will tell you, some day, but not now; the story is too long, and I could not tell it in his presence without driving my dagger to his treacherous heart before the end was half reached! To see him die I would almost be content to lose my own life the next moment!” **T don’t ask to know your past, as connected with him,” was the col ne y- ‘* Weall have our little secrets, and I shall never try to pene- trate _— ‘You may kill bim.” With a low, fierce cry, Queen Titania flashed | a slender dagger from her bosom, and with it raised, she crouched as for a leap upon the man who sat helplessly bound to the chair. CHAPTER XVII. QUEEN TITANIA USES HER DAGGER. But the death-knell of Old Pap Weatherwax had not yet tolled, and before the arm of the beautiful fury could drive that bit of flashing steel to the heart of the bound and helpless man, Saul arrested her with bis steel grip. ‘* Not yet, Queenie! Don’t be in such a hurry to cut short the silver cord,” he said, half-stern- ly, wpe age | ‘*But you said—vou told me I might deal with the Vile dog as I saw fit!” panted the fury, ceasing her vain struggles and shooting a sullen glance from the corner of her eyes up into that masked face. ‘‘So you shall; but not just yet. The fellow has got to do some tongue-wagging before he flits up the golden stair.” ‘*] thought you had tried that until you were disgusted?” “IT set out to make him squeal, andI never give overa mark once set up until it is rae) Uf was the short,savage reply. ‘‘If he won’t talk, when he can talk, then we’ll try to make bim talk, if we have to outdo the deviltries of the Indians themselves! Ay! Frank Deckwright!’” turning with a malignant ferocity on the ner; ‘‘unless you limber the muscles of bat stiff neck of yours, you'll bave good cause to think that the daysof the old-time inquisition have returned for your especial benefit! A hard, metallic laugh came from the small, red lips. “If he is to be tortured, I guess I can control my impatience. How is it—rack or thumb- screw?” “Ef cance give the ole man asay-so into it, he’d a heap ruther be kissed to death by the Maiden,” coolly interposed Old Pap Weather- wax, a quaint twinkle in bis crooked orbs. ** You could act the part o’ the maiden, boney, They ain’t no fun in these sort o’ games onless them as takes part does a powerful heap o’ make b’lieve, an’ they won’t none o’ us laugh fer to putt ye out.” : The words were innocent enough in them- selves; but there was an underlying sting hidden in them that caused the face of Queeu pes to flame erimson, while one clinched hand crept up to her bosom where nestled the gleaming dagger. Saul glanced swiftly from one face to the other, but then shrugged his shoulders care- lessly. ‘From the way you two spat back and forth, one could almost believe that, instead of a maiden, Queen Titania had been a wife, you, Frank Deekwright, for a Jord and master!” * Not so bad as that!” impetuously burst from. com S Gpoo com