Beadle's Dime Library No. 317 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

i bo hi Frank Lightfoot, the Miner Detective. Knowing that unless he could strike the water feer-foremost, his chances of escape were indeed frail, the young athlete flung ali his power of body and mind into that one effort as soon as he thrust himself out from the wall, For one breath of horror, it seemed to bim that be was whirling rapidly end over end, but then bis form steadied, grew rigid, and be struck the boiling waters feet-foremost. With the old dread lest there should be an in- sufficient depth of water, Frank Lightfoot, the second he felt the touch of the cool element, flung out his arms and spread bis legs as wide apart as nature would permit, using every effort to lessen the force of his plunge; but how far he succeeded in this, he never knew. Tne swift descent through the air, combined with the heavy shock of entering the water, al- most entirely deprived him of his senses, and though he kept his lips tightly closed and strug- led to rise to the surface again, it was more ola the workings of instinct than any reasoning process. The water bubbled and boiled about him, and it was to this fact, quite as much as through bis own feeble, mechanical efforts that he did not sink beneath the surface, there to strangle and die, Round and round the mad waters swept with him, and had it been in the broad light of dav instead of night, the eager eyes on the cliff above must have detected him as he formed a helpless part of that mad dance, now rising to his shoulders on the curling waves, only to sink nearly beneath them; but all the time feebly, blindly swimming, in accordance with that strange instinct which so often survives when both sense and reason are buried in ob- livion. Frank Lightfoot knew nothing of all this, save as aman wbo is struggling against some frizhtful nightmare, for that fall and sickening shock had rendered bim incapable of thought or reasoning for the time being, and it was by bo effort of bis that he escaped from tbat whirl- pool, to be swept rapidly down the canyon, Death was on every hand, but he could not comprehend the horrors from which, as by a succession of miracles, be was preserved. Mad- ly the waters raced through their rock-bound confines, now whirling in a half-circle in obe- dience to soine bidden impulse, now leaping straight onward like a frightened race-hborse; now running smooth and even for a moment, only to break into a mass of foam and bubbles against the ragged crest of a sunken bowlder; now sweeping the mechanical swimmer along within arm’s length of the canyon wall, to touch which at that pace meant death, only to whirl him off to the center of the river the next moment, And then the half-dead man was swept into an edily where be fioated slowly round and round in darkness which was increased by the overhanging wall of rock. And as the waves and current fought bim lesa fiercely, bis powers seemed to increase, his senses to slowly regain ssion of his bewildered brain. And when is shoulder came in rude contact with a float- ing object, Frank Lightfoot clutebed it with the grip of a drowning man. It ven the one spur necessary to recall his wandering senses, and it was a man, not an au- tomaton, that clung to the floating log! ‘‘Not dead yet!” he gasped, drawing a long breath of life and tossing back the streaming bair from his eyes as he stared wildly around him. ‘1 tive, father, to keep the oath you dic- tated from your death-bed! If I fail or forget it, may— With a choking cry he broke off, seemingly first becoming conscious of the words he was mechanically uttering. And be shuddered, bowing his head with despairing shame, for had he not forgotten? Had be not, in spirit, if not in letter, proven false to that awful vow? And for what? For love for a pair of dark eyes! As yet Frank Lightfoot had made no effort to drag bimself up on the log against which the waters had swept him in that eddying pool, and by his body dragging iu its wake, the log was radually forced from the small circle of wheel- ng waters into the edge of the current. And after a brief struggle, the eddy was conquered, and the log with its buman freight wens rush- me owe the canyon. he swift motion, with an occasional scrape of his feet against the bottom or sunken rocks, aroused Frank Lightfoot from the half-stupor into which he had fallen, and he attempted to drag himself up on the log for greater comfort and safety. But hardly had be begun, ere he desisted, with a choking cry of wonder, As the log dashed t pa a rift of light, Frank caugbt sight of a red shape lying across the log, almost within reach of bis arms, Though it was only a trunk, so to speak, that bé saw, something told bim he was sharing the float of a fellow-being! He uttered a shout as the log passed into the loom, but no answer came, and then, summon- ng his mi doe and nerve, the Miner Detective drew himself along until his hands rested upon the motionless form. It was indeed a man, but one without sense or on! “ The devil—the one who tried to carry off my —Miss Burgess!’ he gasped, so startled by the | strange encounter that be almost lost bis grasp on the Jog. lt wus indeed so, Limp and motionless the man who felled Jeter Burgess with that felon blow—the mano who so boldly attempted to ab- duct Mora Burgess—the man who was flung to his doom when the white horse fell with the Jead of the Miner Detective in its beart—was lying across. that log, his borned head and cloven feet hanging in the water! How he came there; whether in falling he had struck across the floating log, or had gained it after a desperate struggle, can only be surmised, for he never made an explanation. After recovering from the first shock of this curious discovery, Frank Lightfoot again cau- tiously moved forward to learn whether or no the villain was alive. Owing to the precarious nature of his support, bis examination was necessarily hasty and imperfect. He failed to receive any answer to his call or his sbakings, and he believed the fellow was dead; but knowing, after his own marvelous escape from instant denth, that it was barely possible life might be lingering in the scarlet-clad body, he resolved to guard it as long as possible, Scarcely had he formed this resolve, than the log was drawn into another eidy, ard in turn- ing around, it fairly rubbed against the rock wall. And then, straining bis eves, Frank Lightfoot believed he saw a ledge of rock wide enough to afford support for them both, if be could only reach it. By this time his senses were so nearly restored to their usual state that he was ready to snatch at almost any chance rather than risk a further descent of the canyon while darkness lasted, and as the log swept around once more, he caught the arm of the man in scarlet and flung himself trom the log. It was a desperate struggle, though his good right band closed firmly over a point of rock. The waters tugged furiously at bis person, while the body of the abductor was whirled and toss- ed back and forth, threatening to tear him from his hold; but doggedly, desperately the Miner Detective fought on, never ceasing his efforts until success rewarded them—until he dragged himself up from the bed of the river, still hold- ing on to the body, and settled down upon the ledge. lt was barely sufficient to afford him support, but it was enough—better far than trusting to the log which be saw dimly as it yielded to the current and plunged down the canyon once more, Securing the best possible position for safety and comfort, Frank Lightfoot dragged the body around until he beld it bead and shoulders above the water. The eddying current pressed it against the rock, thus lessening his Inbors, and enabling bim to retain possession. Of a corpse, as he now felt assured. * Alive, | would have saved him to meet the uvishment his dastardly act deserved. Dead, ‘Il hold bim for identification if the fates will that Iam to escape this with life!” the athlete muttered. And it was the sight of him sitting on the ledge, holding the scarlet, horned bead support- el between bis knees, that filled the worthy Barnacle with superstitious horror. For some time Frank Lightfoot had been aware of the approach of the boat party, He had shouted to them, time and again, only to have bis voice drowned by the roaring of the waters. Sutisfied of this, be wisely retained bis breath for use in case he saw the party were about to abandon the quest, and now, as the boat whirled partly around, he shouted with all the power of his rested lungs; “Boat ahoy! Can’t you find room for a ship- wrecked passenger in your little craft?” ‘Who and what are you that calls?’ cried Frederick Lyon, his face showing pale and ghastly by the red light of tbe fire crate in the prow. ‘ Your name?” * Frank Lightfoot!” ‘* 71] be durned ef it ain’t!” shouted Aristabu- lus Boythorn, recognizing the voice where be had failed to distinguish the face, thanks to that grim phantom of the borned head, ‘ Buckle down to it, lads! We'll take bim aboard ef be was ridin’ a dozen red devils, ’stead 0’ one!” Frank Lightfoot could not refrain from burst- ing into a laugh as he caught these words, but then he suffered the horned head to sink lower into the water, still clutching its hand as he cried aloud: “It’s the fellow who tried to abduct Miss Burgess!” “ Living, or dead?” sharply demanded Lyon, as the men at the ropes on the canyon walls urged the boat nearer. ** Dead, I believe. I found him in the water, and thought it best to freeze to bim, if only for the purpose of identification,” promptly replied Lightfoot. relaxing bis grasp willingly enough as Aristabulus bent forward and caugbt hold of the scarlet object. : “ A "bolical-lookin’ varmint as ever I clapped a OO EEEEEEE—EEEEEEoEoEeEeEeEeEeEeE ee A ee A a white man to ride down a race-track like this! Gladly abandoning his precarious perch, Frank Lightfoot grasped the boat and dragged hims-If into it, giving a long breath of relief as he did s>. Brave, strong-nerved though be was, he had not passed through the ordeal wholly unshakep, Frederick Lyon made bis way forward and thrust his hand inside the tight-fitting red suit, holding his palm over the beart fur a score of seconds. Then, without a word, he returned to his place in the stern, waving his hand in mote command to the eager men ov the walls above, By the light of the fire-crate, they saw and readily interpreted this gesture, and then the boat was allowed to float down the canyon, There was comparatively little difficulty in effecting this portion of the trip, the main dffi- culty being in kreping the boat from tearing the ropes from their bends, Those in the little craft had only to keep it clear of the roeks which broke the surface, or occasionally fend off from the walls as a cross.current chanced to strike them. Half an hour later the mouth of the canyon was gained, where the appearance of the boat was grected with enthusiastic cheers as the waiting citizens counted an additional form, and thus became awure that the search hed not proven unsuccessful; but Frederick Lyon paid no attention to them, deftly driving the skiff siern-first to land, stepping out and motioning the others to land, And then, as Frank Light- foot stepped out, he grasped his hands—trere was a metaliic click—and the young man found himself bandcuffed! ‘‘ What the—what do you mean by this, sir?” - cried, his voice hoarse, his blue eyes flashing re, ‘‘That L arrest you for trying to abduct Miss Burgess!” CHAPTER IX. A CHARGE DISPROVED. THE ironed hands were tightly clasped to- getber and lifted as though on the pcint of being dashed into the face of the speaker; but only for an instant. Then they were quietly dropped, and a sbort, contemptuous Jeugh part- ed the lips of the man who so unexpectedly found himself a prisoner. ‘* Well! I've heard of the man with the cheek of a Government mule, but for pure, anaduiter- ated impudence, you deserve to carry the broom! What is the name of—” ‘** You'll find it no laughing matter, my man,” sharply interposed Frederick Lyon, with one raised hand and sbaking fore-finger lending emphasis to his words, “ This may not be strictly according to rule, but so the ends cf justive are served, men of our caliber care little for idle forms,” **Of either decency or common politeness, 6s [ find it by no means difficult to believe,” sneer- ed Frank Lightfoot, ‘A prin he criminal is not supposed to take the same view of bis capture as the one who helps to bring bim to justice,” coldly retorted the mine-owner, As be spoke bis hard black eyes were riveted on the face of the man whom he had socleverly manacled, as though expecting a savage out- burst on his part. Fora breath, it seemed as thougk this would be the case, for Frank Light- foot clinched bis hands, his lithe form quivering with rage—but that was as far as he suffered resentment to carry bim just then, He saw that Frederick Lyon bad one band hidden, his elbow bent just enough to show that the member was resting on or against his hip. Instinct told him that the mine-owner was ready to shoot bim down at the first show of re- sistance, even if those bitter words were not uttered with the express purpose of driving him into some such rash movement. Witb a cold smile playing around his lips, Frank Lightfoot bowed slightly, his voice quiet and smooth as be spoke: ‘¢ Will you be so kind as to repeat the charge you made a bit ago? To mention the crime for which you considered it your duty as an honest man and perfect gentleman to arrest me?” ‘* Por acriminal assault on the person of Jeter Burgess, and the attempted abduction of bis daughter, Miss Mora,” was the prompt response, and the voice of Frederick Lyon was that of one tee fully believed in the truth of all he ut- tered. With a hard, metallic laugh, Frank Lightfoot inted with his manacled bands to the scarlet gure which still lay in the bottom of the boat. ‘I, the abductor? Pray, my dear sir, what do you call that ?” * Your ally, for aught I know,” was the re- ply, with the swift addition: ‘ It may be even worse than that!” ‘*Indeed!” with a short laugh and exagger- ated politeness, ‘*‘ May Il beg of you to explain, my dear sir?” ‘We all know that two men went over the wall of the canyon,” coldly replied the mine- owner. ‘*We know that one was a villain for my two ole peepers onto—durned ef ‘tain’t ; whom death would be too easy a punishment, now!” ejaculated the Barnacle as he dragged | while the other was every inch a man—” the body into the boat. ‘‘ A purty-!ookin’ hoss ‘* Many thanks for the compliment,” laughed JOOKS ECOmMmic eo