Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 328 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

1 12 King Kent. wer. I tell you we'll have a merry pic-nic, may beauties, on the Rio San Saba. Bo you hear me? ‘Do you begin to realize who and what I am? I am King Kent, the Captain of the Basin Ban- dits, the assassin, the parricide!” e concluding words were fairly shrieked and the livid face of King Kent twitched and his limbs as well, as though he was about to have a fit. Lola Landers fainted dead away, her senses leaving her in a piercing shriek; but Edna sup- ported her, while Big Bill sprung forward, with a canteen of whisky and one of water, which he proffered to the black-eyed beauty. ‘‘ Thanks,” said Edna, as she poured some of the water upon the head of her friend; *‘ any act of kindness is appreciated in this horde of demons. Is there the least spark of manhood, remaining in your depraved breasts? Has not one of you a sister, or a mother; that you thus stand like cowards, and listen to the words of that fiend in human shape, who acknowledges himself the murderer of his own father? ‘‘Can you stand thus, and see two helpless maidens insulted, their feelings outraged, ad such a a int King Kent one bare flashing eyes, and gazing into the face o 8 bandit chief you are a fiend, a merciless, heartless fiend! You are more cruel and de- ed than the most bloodthirsty Apache on the o Pecos! “JT scorn you! I defy you! This poor lil has wilted before your scorching words, but shall bear up, and keep my courage for her sake, You not harm a hair of her head while I live.” ‘*Halha! Good! Remarkably fine, Miss Ed- wards!” sneered King Kent. ‘* Youshould have one on the e. Then you would not have Been in the awkward fix you now find your- self = and might have e your mark in the world, ‘But you have lost your opportunity. I ad- mire ts ‘sand’—upon my soul, Ido! You're a brick, Edna; and I’m not sure you would not suit King Kent, as a bride, better than this baby friend of yours. Ill wed you both, I reckon, for I’m more of a Mormon than any- a else. ‘‘Tfa! ha! to be sure. I'm a destroying angel, or a destroyer of angels, whichever you choose. But, enough of this sentimentality. “Stir around, boys, and pack up! We must start at dusk, and keep on the east side of the Leon timber for security. Crooked Carl, show these young ladies their apartment, and guard the entrance until we start. _ “Big Bill, get two horses ready for their ac- ‘ commodation on the trail, Hustle’round lively, boys, for it’s near sunset!” ageing flo was bustle. Edna and Lola, the latter having recovered, ‘were conducted into one of the cave-like exca- ‘vations, where they threw themselves upon a pile of blankets, and sobbed in each other's arms. Crooked Carl stood on d, as directed. Pack-mules were led into the basin, and load- ed with provisions, cooking utensils, and the necessaries. Whisky was swallowed freely by all. The horses were equipped arms examined, and ammunition looked to. Then, as the sun disap- peared, the Basin Bandits left their secluded retreat forever; fording the Leon, and passing up the same, along the border of the bottom-tim- r. Lola Sanders and Edna Edwards, secured to saddles, rode in their midst; both the unhappy ls dazed with the most dread forebodings, r, and almost hopeless d ir; although they could not bring themselves to believe that their all-merciful Father would suffer King Kent to fulfill his ble oath of vengeance, to further extent than a brief captivity to themselves. Thus muttering prayers, and hoping even So gee hope, they were borne along; every step their horses shooting a through their hearts—they, as the line of ranches was at length , and they had pondered more deep- ly upon the words of their cowardly captor, losing all ho They y believed, as the darkness fell around them, that they were doomed—doomed, without any hope of rescue, to a terrible fate, compared with which death would be a mercy, CHAPTER XVI. TWO TO THE MANNER BORN. Just as the sun was sinking below the hori- gop, casting its red glow aslant over the plains of San Saba, had one been in a balloon bey up over the big bend he would have decided that pallet of thoss wigis onl tocdy exsune during of m c y scenes the coming night. A close scrutiny of the surrounding country would have ed the fact that the big bend was the objective point for more than one of human beings, among whom were white, y low and red men. Just at this time, a large herd of horses ar- rived in the near vicinity of this bend. The herd was here divided; one-half of the animals, RR rc Sissies in charge of one Mexican, being driven into the | which was the ver personation of listlessness timber and across the San at the north side of the bend, and hurried west under cover of the woods—the other portion, with two Mexi- cans in charge, making a wide, sweeping curve over the east prairie and entering the timber to the south of the swell, proceeding also under cover of the woods up the south side; both herds aiming for the entrance to or neck of the bend, but on different sides. By one portion of this herd being driven across the neck of the bend, the herd would be reunited. Then some distance north toward the Colora- do, following the border of the timber up the San Saba toward the bend, could be seen two | horsemen—one red, the other white—Turtle, the Tonkaway, and Daring Dick; while far to the westwar bend, feathers and scalps flaunting and flying in the wind of their , lance-points glittering in the red rays of the setting sun, and quirts circling about their heads to curl with vicious whacks about the hams of their mustangs—thus on, like dry leaves before a ‘‘ norther,” flew over the prairie a horde of war-painted Comanches, some three-score in number, And to the south, just entering the border of the timber, a quarter of a mile from the swell of the bend, were two other horsemen. Both the latter were white. Neither one of these parties cted the presence of other human beings than themselves within a day’s ride, at least, all being hidden from the view of each other by the towering timber, as described. Could one have gazed far beyond the Rio Colorado, nearly a score of villainous-looking riders might have been observed, with two beautiful maidens secured to their saddles in the midst of the ruffianly band. These were the Basin Bandits, under King Kent, with. their captives, Lola and Edna. e outlaws were pointed direct for the con- fluence of the San Saba with the Colorado, and of course intended crossing and following ape former stream, which would bring them to the big bend. Thus were the fates leading many who held deadly enmity toward each other to the same point. We have already recorded, in our story, something in connection with all of these parties except one. This was the two white riders from the south plain, who entered the border of the nearest point of timber and encamped. Had they kept on to the river-bank they would have discovered that portion of the herd of horses that had been driven in a wide curve over the prairie eastward, then into the timber on the south side of the bend, and up the river toward the neck; but they did not, nor were they dis- covered by Antonio and his pards. These two men, one would know at a glance, were old scouts of the border. Both were roughly clad in rent and buckskin breeches thrust into boot-tops, blac sombreros much the worse for wear, and gray woolen shirts. They were armed with rifles, revolvers and bowie-knives. Their saddles were ‘ Texas-trees,” which showed much service; and all the “ tricks” and “traps” n to a prairie-roamer on long scouts were attached by buckskin strings to the cantles of their saddles, including a roll of blankets. Both these men were small in stature, spare in flesh, and their hair long and sprinkled with orThey were, in fact, thin and bony, their features sharp, but agile and sinewy, and evi- dently of great strength, when their slim build was taken into consideration. Neither of them was under fif Their hair was unkempt an each had a thin beard; resemblance between them, and to look into their faces, they were almost opposite in appear- ance. One was “Old Rocky,” whose real name— known to but few—was William Young. Old Rocky was one of the most celebrated scouts of the great Southwest, being dubbed as recorded from the fact that he been for a long time in the Rocky epoca ge Nig then 4 to his coming to Texas, and was in the habit of mentioning some circumstance or adventure, uite frequently, which had come under his observation in the Great Divide. Old Rocky, aside from the description already given, was naturally of a florid complexion, his cheeks ong quite red at the time of whi.h we 7 ed t was wy meg was 1 — ce, rows were and his eyes seemed to be dark blue, but when he be- came excited appeared black. His teeth were large and prominent, his lips being continually apart, and he chewing tobacco, as if by con- years of age. tract. Old Rocky was ther-like in motion, keen- eyed, a most ski scout and trailer, and a shot with either rifle or revolver. He rode a raw-boned dark bay horse, of great endurance, and fleet of foot; although one would not thus judge, to look at the animal, also speeding in the direction of the | matted, and | yet there was no other ! and laziness, when ted out to grass, or even when on the trail, except when rendered alert and ready for business by some signal of its master. The eyes of the horse were large and intelli- gent; in fact, the owner often asserted that his ‘ critter knowed more’n half the humans on this | hyer big ball o’ dirt.” His companion, so like in build, and of the same age, was equally as celebrated as a scout, ranger, trailer, guide, and skillful shooter. is sobriquet was Single Eye. No one knew his say a name, The appellation he bore was very appropriate, as he had lost his left eye, the cavity being deeply shrunken; but his remaining optic was sharp, keen, piercing, and gray in color. His face was somewhat wrinkled, more so a eat deal than Old Rocky’s, and was utterly evoid of color, except a F tan. Had he lived an indoor life, he would have been quite Dom Sabo have seemed almost bloodless. though so far advanced in years, he was like lightning when aroused; and his sinews were like steel. Indeed both men were perfect terrors, when fighting Indians or Mexi- cans. Single Eye, strange to say, rode a horse which had but one optic; the legs of the animal oes) long, and the beast generally ungainly. Yeti was called by its master, “ Skip-Lively;” and the name was most appropriate, as it could run like a deer. Skip-Lively hated Indians as much as did its master, and could smell the red-men; being, therefore, a good guard at night, snorting when it caught the scent of sav Many had Skip-Lively killed, for in a fight the horse became furious; clutching an Indian, on several occasions, by the shoulder, between his huge jaws, and shaking the savage as & terrier would a rat. Then it would hur! its victim to the earth, and stamp the brave toa jelly beneath his hoofs, us we introduce two of the most noted bor- derers, who arrived, as we have seen, ee tunely at a point where their services would be needed, in the cause of justice, mercy, and hu- manity. They passed but a short distance into the tim- ber, and encamped near a small spring, re- moving the equipments from their horses, and allowing the animals free range, dragging the neck-ropes. After filling coffee-pot and canteens, the horses were permitted to drink at the spring. Then a small fire was kindled, of selected wood that would cause but little smoke; coffee was placed upon it to steep, and corn-pone with half-cooked venison was taken from their saddle- bags, and upon sharp sticks placed before the fire, to finish cooking. This was all done in silence; both, at times, sweeping the surrounding shades with their gaze, When all was under way for a meal, Old Rocky stole from the camp, and made a wide circle around the same, examining the ground; but he soon returned, breaking e impressive silence as he re-entered the camp. ‘‘Reckon, pard Single Eye, we~uns kin chaw grub hyeraways, without ther puserlanimous red hellyuns yowlin’ inter our years, an’ shoot- in’ thar pesky p’inted sticks inter our "natermy, Everythin’ pears calm, an’ chuck-full 0’ peace an’ quiet.” ‘““Thet don’t count fer nothin’, Ole Rock,” asserted his pard, ejecting a +e of tobacco- juice far into the thicket. “Tl allers air b’ilin’ over wi’ suspish when hit’s too still ter breathe hard. Howsomever, I don’t reckon thar’s a a red crawlin’ ’roun’ this hyer bottom, er Skip ’u’d smell ther cond Cuss, an’ gi’n we-uns re ara! Curmanchey tery Jum er -Var rmanches y ps critters, an’ skutes arter a pi , an’ don’t crawl ’roun’ in ther bush, which mought muss thar feathers, an’ git thar 1 ha’r tangled in ther thorns. They doesn’t often g thar- selves ’roun’ permisc’us-like, an’ a three-leg mule c’u’d easy gi’n ’em a hefty race w they're a foot-back. “T ain’t slingin’ informashe at yer, Ole Rock. °Cos why, yer knows hit all; but I must it off gab bout somethin’, er [Pll forgit how r wag tongue. Thar ain’t been a wo ked atween we-uns since noon, solemcholies, er cain’t yer chawin’ terbac’?_ I’ve chawed, an’ chawed my- self, ontil I’m sick enough ter puke a knee- Some days I chaws nough weaken er narves of agriz’b’ar. Thet’s when I’m on a trail, an’ can’t stop fer grub.” “ Thet’s "bout ther size o’ hit wi’ me, pard. Sometimes I chaws, an’ chaws, without nothin’ in my stum-jack, ontil I gits mad es a bob-tailed hornet, feels uglier than a horned toad, an! e’u’d yell loud ’nough, an’ bilious "nough ter skeer a blind mule inter a cyclone stompede, weg coy aya hyderphobic, an’ now c, an’ c’u'd shoot out ole be wollen’ tell yer, on ‘count o* not chawin’ nothin’ ’ceptin’ terbac’, since sun- up. ‘* Thet’s me, clean through, Ole Rock; an’ yer | GOmicbooks Hev yer ther alg dine from. Cc oe ©