Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 340 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

Cool Conrad, the Dakota Detective. dark eyes of the camp terror, and he strode on proudly and with victory in his step. At that moment Jaguar Jerry was saddling a horse not far away—saddling him for a ride to *Frisco, leagues and leagues over mountains and valleys. When the steed was ready, the bronze pard Jooked at his revolvers and flung himself into the saddle. ‘Won't I play it fine when I git thar?’ he chuckled. ‘“* Pl carry out ther captain’s in- structions to ther letter. Ef Silver Chick kin be found I'll find him! Ah! who thought thet gold °d lure him from Pistol City?’ Jaguar Jerry looked back on the dark cabins of the mining-camp as he rode slowly away. The only ray of light that indicated that any part of the camp was inhabited came from a quarter where Holy Hank’s place stood. The messenger to ’Frisco urged his horse into a smart gallop as the suburbs of Pistol City fell at his back, and ere long he was riding fairly on the trail which after many windings entered the great city of the Golden State. It was a long ride, but no man was better fitted by nature and training to make a success of it than Jaguar J orry. The road was well defined, for at lengthy in- tervals a stage rattled over it, eastward and ‘westward bound, and the stars on this occasion showed Captain Noll’s man the way he had been commanded to take. Jaguar Jerry made his first five miles without an incident of any kind. He had to multiply it many times before he could begin the hunt expected of him in ’Frisco, Suddenly and without a second’s warning a human hand seemed to leap from the mountain wall itself, and the next instant Jaguar Jerry’s horse stood still. ‘*One word and you'll lose your brains!” hit him squarely in the teeth with stern emphasis. ‘* You had better have stayed in camp.” The eyes of the gold-camp rough saw the man who leaned forward from a saddle and noticed, too, the pistol-barrel that grinned in his face while the star-beams danced along its polished surface. ‘*Great God, sir! who ar’ you?” cried the tough. ‘A man you didn’texpect to meet twixt hyer an’ ’Frisco!” was the response, **'You’re not Cool Conrad?” Why not?” ‘* Then, [m stumped!” f ‘*Stumped you are! What’s your name?” ‘* Jaguar Jerry.” P ‘* One ov the original eight pards ov Colora- 0?” Jerry hesitated. ‘Out with it!” continued the hunter. ‘‘ The finger ov Albert’s brother is at the trigger. The truth, Jerry! You ar’ one ov the eig t pards?” ‘“‘T am!” enpee the messenger to ’*Frisco. ‘* All right! then Pll settle with another,” said Cool Conrad. ‘‘ You intend ter kill me, then!” “Why should I spare? Do you think I’m hyer ter hunt you mountain buzzards down one at a time tospare you? You're no fool, Ja Jerry. You've lived long enough ter know thet one man doesn’t hunt another in Californy for sport.” Well did Jaguar Jerry know this. He had followed the fortunes of Oregon Noll and Silver Chick long enough to know that the truth was in every word of Cool Conrad’s last sentence, “Yes,” he said, ‘1 know that.” ‘‘An’ yet you think I don’t intend ter kill ou?” 4 There was a cool and bitter laugh at the end of the question, and Jaguar Jerry saw the de- tective’s eyes shine madly behind it. ‘You ar’ faced toward ’Frisco?” continued Cool Conrad. e Yes Db) “ Goin’ thar by orders?” “ P’raps,” ‘* By Captain Noll’s orders?” is wus, ” ‘¢ What takes you thither?” ‘¢ Work fer ther captain, ov course.” ** An’ you warn’t cautioned ter look out for Cool Conrad?” ‘‘No. We thought—” “You thought what, Jerry?” “We thought you war behind Pistol City.” A twinkle came into the Dakota Detective’s eyes. Pm liable to be in unexpected places till this game’s played through,” he said quietly while he looked into Jaguar Jerry’s face. ‘*Ov course, Jerry, in ther natural course ov events, you expected ter die with yer boots on?” This question seemed to stagger Oregon Noll’s pard. ‘‘ Answer me!” said the detective sternly. ‘‘Thet’s ther way most men die in this ken- try,” the pard of Pistol City replied. ‘An’ that’s the way you ar’ goin’ out ov ther world. You don’t want me ter spoil yer face, eh, Jaguar J ? The big to ground his teeth, but the ac- a did not c ea muscle of Cool Conrad’s @. i a ew +: oe re EEE, ——EEE——————————— e810 eee eS rn — ees - — *“See hyer! Ef I hunted a man, I think I'd give him a show,” the gold tough said sullenly. ‘You would, eh?” **T would, by heavens!” ‘“*I see by yer eyes thet ye’r’ ther most liberal man in these ee at. said Conrad. ‘‘ You mean thet ef you had half a chance you’d leave Conrad to ther buzzards of ther gold range. I’ve met men ov yer stamp afore. es, you’d exe a foe a chance! You never gave ther oy gold-hunter one,” ° e last arrow went swiftly home. ‘* Thet war Captain Noll’s work,” cried Jerry. ** An’ you hed no hand in it?” “IT war thar, ov course; what’s ther use ov denyin’ thet? Thad ter be thar, but I—” rou stongona ag’in’ ther deed, didn’t yer?” ** Not thet; no. I—” Jaguar Jerry paused like a man in whose throat a falseh has suddenly stuck. ‘What did you do? Out with it!” shouted Cool Conrad. ‘IT didn’t want ter see ther youngster pulled up without a show.” ** Oh, you didn’t!” ‘* Thet’s a fact, Cool Conrad !” ‘* Then, why didn’t you ae No lies, mur- derer of my brother. I know that not a voice war lifted against the commission of the black deed. I have discovered that. I know that you nor no other gold tough raised a hand against my brother’s death. An’ yet you say you didn’t want ter see him die?” The gold-camp ruffian was dumfounded. ‘‘'Then I’m ter hev no show?” he grated. ** Not a chance for yer life!” was the merci- less hiss, ‘‘If you don’t want yer face spoiled, T'll shoot you through the heart. By my life! I wish I could hang you, Jaguar Jerry, as the call you. I'd like ter give ther mountain vul- tures a glimpse ov you swingin’ in mid-air as once swung the boy gold-seeker ov Colorado, Hands up!’ As the two hands of the mountain tough went Serena at Cool Conrad’s command he drove the spurs into his steed’s flanks, and the ae second the two horses collided with a crash, Cool Conrad’s horse was forced back almost on his haunches, and to the side of the trail, and a wild cry of triumph pealed from Jaguar Jerry’s throat as his hand whipped out a revol- ver. ‘* Who's goin’ ter be shot through ther heart, eh?” cried the gold-camp rough in the exuber- ance of his fierce joy. ‘‘ Ill git ter ’Frisco yet, Cool Conrad! You don’t know Jaguar Jerry as you should!” At this mad moment the avenger-detective was not idle. His horse had fallen with him against the trail wall and he seemed on the eve of being badly crushed, “The first shot kills, ** All right!” he cried. AY Mouriwein hyena!” imultaneously with his last word two revol- vers awoke the nocturnal echoes of the pass. The man under the struggling horse pre re suddenly to his feet, but the rough in the dle reeled back and struck the ground with a thud! “It was a game two can play at,” said Cool Conrad standing erect in the trail. ‘‘ I informed the pards ov Pistol City that Monte Merle’s end was but the beginnin’. They laughed at my message, but the mornin’ shall prove that it was no idle threat. That war a happy thought ov ers, Jaguar Jerry—you oa a bold game for fe; but it wouldn’t work!” The eyes of Cool Conrad were full of victo as he stood over the dark-mustached and hand- some desperado who had died with his boots on in a bold fight for life. The stars went down the azure paths of the midnight sky. _Morning came again and revealed the beau- ties the darkness had hidden. When Oregon Noll opened the door of his cabin he saw before it an object which made him recoil, It was a human hand and between the stif- fened fingers was a piece of paper. With burning curiosity he stooped and took it from the cold grip to read: ‘ This is the hand of the man who will never see *Frisco! CooL ConrRAD.”’ Captain Noll dropped the paper with a cry. CHAPTER XXIII. STILL ON THE TRAIL. ALL day that ghastly hand lay wrapped in a ante of paper on acertain shelf in Oregon Noll’s cabin. ‘* That devil means business ov ther reddest kind,” declared Noll to himself. ‘* Why doesn’t he try his hand on me? By heavens! he dare not; that’s why!” If this thought consoled the boss of Pistol City he was welcome to the consolation. He did not want any one to know that he had sent J Je toward ’Frisco on the impor- tant business of finding out Silver Chick’s inten: tions, therefore he had concealed the bloody hand and set out to find the body which he be- lieved lay somewhere on the trail. Captain Noll’s mission met with success, for 21 where Jaguar Jerry met his fate he was found his white face turned skyward and his one hand clutching the scanty grass of the trail. We leave the reader to imagine the oath Ore- gon Noll took over the body of his pard and late companion. He buried it himself among the mountains, and came back to Pistol City without exciting sus- picion of any kind. “Tl wait till ther game hyer is played through an’ then [ll go ter ’Frisco myself,” he said. ‘‘It’ll give ther Chick time ter show up, an’ ef he doesn’t Pll know whar ter look for ; ” And so the day passed and the night came in. por usual a crowd, the same old set, gathered at Holy Hank’s, but this time some of its mem- bers were missing. If they had been searched for they might have been found standing guard at the roads or trails that led into the camp, each one a human statue with eager eyes, and with fingers at the ready trigger. regon Noll had taken precautions against. another surprise. ‘‘ Hang me, ef ther blood-hunters shall sneak inter Pistol City any more without warnin’,” he said. ‘‘ I’ve given ther —_ their orders, an’ they know jest what terdo. War ter ther knife an’ ther knife to ther hilt! thet’s ther doctrine. We'll assume ther offensive afore long; then let ther killin’ galoots look out!” It was while a number of men stood along Holy Hank’s counter, discussing the thrilling events of the past few days, that a miner came in and placed before them the roughly-fashioned head-board of a grave. ‘‘ What's thet?” exclaimed a dozen voices at once. ‘‘'Ther head-board ov Monte Merle’s grave. See what somebody hez chalked on it!” The roughs of Pistol City crowded forward. ‘*Read it out, Ruby Rob,” cried several on the outside. ‘‘ Give us ther lingo ov ther head- board.” The man who had brought the object to the saloon picked it up and read, to the astonish- ment of all: “MONTE MERLE. KILLED BY ALBERT’S BROTHER. LIFE FOR LIFE! VENGEANCE BELONGS TO CooL CONRAD.” A moment of profound silence followed the reading, and then the air resounded with the most furious oaths. ‘“‘Thar’s a bad lot ov us left!” was the cry. ‘* Let this man come hke a man, not like a cow- ard ter strike a feller in ther back. He is only brave when he sneaks about writin’ lies like thet over ther graves ov his betters. Let him come now! W is ther boss liar from Colorado?” The next moment there strode into the saloon a man who had every eye riveted upon him at once. He came forward with steady step, and glanced at the men whostood along the counter. He was neatly dressed in garments that looked more at home among the high gambling-dens of *Frisco than ee roughs of Pistol City. His hair was black and long, and he had a luxuriant mustache which was carefully waxed at the ends, and a goatee served in the same manner. The broad-brimmed, soft sombrero, which sat rather jauntily on his head, added materially to his dandified appearance, and he was, on the whole, just the kind of man, coming when he did, to excite the pards of Pistol City. ‘Will the gents of Pistol City tip glasses with Sombrero Sam, just in from the mountains?’ he asked. ‘‘ I’m riding on a wager, an’ I stop hyer fer breath.” The pards of the gold mesn € exchanged glances with one another, and one of them, who s in the rear rank, touched his companion’s arm and whispered: “Go an’ tell Captain Noll; do it secretly an’ oo) om the deuce did this man pass the ards Holy Hank did not glance at the men to get their response to the invitation to take some- thing. He + awed sey lewaneae wre on a Catone, and accordingly to set out the g . ‘‘T've wagered a cool thousand thet i kin ride from ’Frisco ter Flat Broke within a given time,” continued the stranger. ‘“ I’m now three hours ahead ov time, an’ kin spend thet hyer. What's ther distance from hyer ter Flat Broke?’ ‘¢ Righty miles.” ‘Good! Thet’s ten less than I hed calculated on. Pour out yer liquor, gents! Whar’s Silver Chick? This is his stampin’-ground, isn’t it?” ‘*He’s a citizen of Pistol City, but he’s not hyer just now,” was the answer. ** Gone off, eh?” ‘* Por a spell.” ‘“‘T would like ter see ‘im. Knew him years ago in ’Frisco,” ‘‘Do you know Captain Noll?” asked Holy vr No.” E(0) EOMMMICELOOL ESS