Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 340 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

a daa a - ~~ - Cool Conrad, the Dakota Detective. oe and the man who had brought the lamp out had fixed it on a nail above the door. ‘‘Give us both girls!” demanded the gold- camp roughs. ‘‘ You wouldn’t live a minute, Doctor Pablo, ef yer teched ther one called Leo, Git out from between them hosses!” The Mexican did not stir. ‘‘We give yer ten seconds, doctor. Don’t be a fool!” ‘‘And I give all of you but five seconds in which to march back into Holy Hank’s. Ive taken a hand in this game myself. I include you, Doctor Pablo, March!” The roughs of Pistol City turned toward the person who had thus suddenly spoken in lan- guage not to be mistaken. ; The lamp-light was thrown some distance around by the tin reflector behind it, and the desperate men saw the speaker. e stood a few feet away, and in his out- stretched hands were two revolvers. ‘‘Marmoset! by heavens!” ejaculated a dozen voices as the speaker involuntarily shrunk from the leveled weapons. ‘ Thar’s death in ther young galoot’s eyes, bays!” ‘‘ And death in my revolvers! Back into Holy Hank’s! Within five seconds I seal the doom of a dozen men!” The young miner stood erect and firm. ‘‘ Back into the s’loon, pards. Ther boy's got ther upper band, but he can’t play it long.” And in obedience to these words there was a rush toward the open door of the whisky trap. CHAPTER XXIX, THE CAST OF A LARIAT. ‘“RipE toward me, but don’t get between me and the door,” continued Marmoset in lower tones to the two females who were regarding him with manifestations of gratitude. ‘* They say I sha’n’t play the hand I hold very long. We will see about that. I guess there will be no sacrifice of female beauty in Pistol City this night.” Poss and Leo were not long in obeying the youth’s command, and a few moments later their horses had borne them past him. ‘‘ We don’t want ter stay in camp long,” Mar- moset wenton. ‘I’ve riled ther hyenas of Pis- tol City, and we can’t keep ’em caged up all the time. I came in time, didn’t I?” ‘‘Tn the very nick of time,” said Floss. ‘‘ We will ride back and get the weapons Doctor Pablo forced us tothrow away. Armed again, we can protect ourselves.” Leo, who did not speak, was gazing toward Holy Hank’s place, as if she did not like to re- treat without striking a return blow against the infamous Mexican whose diabolical plans had almost succeeded. At any moment the pards of the gold camp were liable to rush out and charge the trio standing in the starlight, and their safety lay in an immediate retreat. ‘‘ We will meet ba ab gee Pablo,” murmured Leo. ‘* The hour of final settlement is not far away. Heaven has spared you for a worse tor- ture than that inflicted by the death-bullet!” The two girls turned the heads of their steeds toward the frowning mountain, but Marmoset kept a bold front toward the whisky-den, and unmolested because of the revolvers the boy held resolutely in his hands, the trio effected their retreat. te In Holy Hank’s den, it is needless to say, there chagrin and bitter oaths. Witt you hedn’t stuck up fer yer right ter deal with Leo, we'd not hev lost ther birds!” said the stalwart ruffian, who had wheeled sud- denly upon Doctor Pablo. ‘‘Confound yer! you've been a nuisance ter Pistol City from ther day yer feet first trod its streets.” ' Slit ther Greaser’s throat!” came the cry from behind the speaker. ‘‘ Let’s git rid ov ther camp Jonah while we've got ther chance.” The Mexican looked toward the door and dis- played a pair of flashing eyes and a brace of cocked revolvers. ‘« Don’t let im show his teeth thet way! Down with ther Greaser dog! Throttle ‘im, Fancy oe!” - The last command drove the mancalled Fancy Joe upon Doctor Pablo like the outburst of a cyclone. "Up went the doctor’s revolvers, but the charger was too quick for him, and a curse and several pianapbal ejaculations announced that he had been outwitted. ! The pistols were torn from the Mexican’s hands as Fancy Joe’s hand tightened at_his throat, and he was held up to the gaze and the rision of all. ae? Tumble him down Satan’s Hotel. Hurrah! Throw him headlong down the way we failed ter send Red Roy!” That was enough. The whole crowd started for the door with a series of yells that would have been creditable to demons, and in less than two minutes Doctor Pablo was being rushed over the ground at a speed that would soon take him to doom. He ae daggers at his captors, but kept his sealed. Though a venomous coward at heart, he knew it would be foolish to plead with Fancy Joe and his pards for mercy. He evidently saw that he had made a mistake in not dealing with Leo in the mountains when he had her completely in his clutches, but now he had little time for reflection and none for regrets. t did not take the crowd long to reach the yawning pit with their victim. Still in the grip of Fancy Joe, Doctor Pablo was pushed to the brink of the horrid place and made to look down into its blackness, A cold shudder ran through his frame, and his involuntary recoil was greeted with a deri- sive laugh. ‘*'Whar’s a rope?” cried Fancy Joe, ‘ We'll let im hang amid ther darkness long enough ter reflect over his sins, an’ all ov a sudden we'll cut ther rope an’ let ’im drap!” A few moments sufficed to place a stout rope under Doctor Pablo’s armpits and he was lower- ed without ceremony into the abyss. ‘* Thar ye ar’, doctor! When ye drap ye'll go down like a cannon-ball an’ ther bounce will terrible. Fare ye well, my Mexican ddisy. Ther rope ‘ll be cut when you don’t expect it, mebbe, an’ then hurrah fer ther cellar of Satan’s Hote] |” The doomed Mexican sent a mad curse up- ward, and then heard the footsteps and coarse jeers of the miner-roughs as they walked away. They went back to their old retreat, probably to celebrate their victory over the Mexican in bumpers of whisky, and Doctor Pablo was left to the doom so suddenly prepared and executed. ‘** Now [ll pick out the two left here, and then hunt down Silver Chick,” said a man who at the same moment entered Pistol City on the west. ‘* Red Roy took vengeance out of my hands by shooting Captain Noll in his cabin. I should neve shot Red Roy, but I had not the heart to O it. This man was Cool Conrad, the Dakota De- tective, the tireless hunter, and a man with the most terrible of motives. He might leave Pistol City for awhile, but he always came back as if the completion of his hunt belonged there. On this occasion he had come back alone. We saw him last separating from Red Roy who told him that he had scattered Oregon Noll’s brains over his cabin walls for lowering him into the dark depths of Satan’s Hotel. If this was true, there were but two of Al- bert’s hangmen left in Pistol City, and Cool Con- rad had come back for them. By the merest chance he had missed Marmo- set and his companions in retreat from the miner-pards, and he now walked among the cabins, resolved on taking two lives. As if he knew where to find the two pards, he walked straight toward Holy Hank’s. Cool Conrad knew his men; he had marked them during his visit as Sombrero Sam, and hey could not escape him among the crowd. e paused within ten feet of the open door of the gaming-trap. ‘‘Help ’im up on ther counter! Never mind his boots!” cried a loud voice. ‘‘ Lift ’im up thar, pards. Dan’s got a toast we kin all drink. Dan’s a poic. Up he goes! Hurrah!” Cool Conrad saw the big fellow who was hoist- ed upon the counter by his pards amid the cheers of the house. ‘“‘Thet’s one of them,’ murmured the man from Dakota. ‘* We'll wait for his toast.” The ruffian’s head almost touched the rafters above when he straightened on the counter and cast his eyes down on the motley dark-shirted and bronzed crowd below. ‘*You’re mistaken *bout thet poic bizness, Fancy,” he said withalaugh. ‘I never fooled with verses, but I used ter hold a tolerable grip on rhyme when I war a kid.” ‘All right, Dan! Give us ther toast.” ‘‘Hyer goes! You'll excuse ther bad meter,” and the man on the counter sung out: ‘* Hyer’s ter Pistol City’s pards, Gloots whose heads ar’ level! We kin whip our weight_in wild-cats An’ twist horns from ther devil!” A smile stole over Cool Conrad’s countenance. ‘*Thet takes ther cake! Hurrah fer ther poic- lariate ov Californy! Now, boys—” ‘* Hold on!” interrupted the man on the coun- ter throwing up his hand. ‘‘ Thar’s another verse.” ‘*No more,” said the detective, in firm tones. ‘The lie and the boast will suffice. I'll send yous down the dark trail with your toast unfin- ished. It was no easy matter to quiet the boisterous crowd in the saloon. They were still applauding Dan’s horrid at- tempt at poetry, undreamful of the cool charac- ter who was covering him with a revolver that never failed. All at once the sharp report of a fire-arm cut the bracing air of night, and the man on the counter leaped up against the rafters, and came down among the thunder-struck pards like a toppling cliff! t was the death work of a second! Two camp roughs went to the floor under the weight of the falling body, and the utmost con- fusion reigned. ‘You may finish that toast where fiends will laugh at it,” ejaculated the man outside, as he stepped toward the saloon with the smoking re- volver in his hand. ‘‘ There is yet another among you, and I'jl get him before I turn my back on your infamous ms, He was met at thedoor by half a dozen figures. Wild cries and threats, with oaths of ven- geance, saluted his ears, but they only brought a brighter and a fearless flash to his eyes. ‘*T don’t want you,” he said, in firm tones to the roughs in the door. ‘‘Send out to me the man who belonged to Captain Conrad’s band when they hanged the boy wang in ther Colorado canyon. He is in there somewhere.” ‘*Durn yer; ye’ve killed one ov Captain N oll’s old band already!” was the reply. ‘*T know thet. I want ther other now.” ‘* Mebbe he ain’t hyer.” ‘*Hyer I am!” exclaimed a loud voice, and @ tall fellow with unusually-broad shoulders push- ed his way toward the door. ‘‘I’ve dipped my hands in Dan’s blood. Show me the hound thet tumbled ’im without mercy. Whar is ther man- hunter from ther North?” The speaker reached the threshold of the den with the last word on his lips; he stepped out with eyes on fire and a revolver in either hand. Cool Conrad, waiting for his victim, stood nu: twenty feet from the door. He had the air of a man who is confident that he is about to achieve a great success, that he has reached the end of some great work. ‘“*T am here!” he said in clear tones to the man who landed with a bound on the ground in front of Holy Hank’s. ‘I have the mate of the bullet that dropped yer pard for you.” In a moment later the doom of the miner- rough would have been spoken ifa long black naan with a noose at one end had not left the hand of a man who had risen to his feet a short distance behind Cool Conrad! The cast in the night was as true as if it had been made at noonday. ~ The lasso noose fell over the detective’s head and tightened on his shoulders, as a quick jerk almost threw him off his feet. ‘‘Ha!l ha! Caught this time, my Dakota fox!” laughed a cruel voice, as the whole crowd rushed forward to riddle Cool Conrad with their revolvers. For once in his life the cool man from the North seemed thunderstruck. ‘*Kiver him with yer droppers, but don’t touch a trigger!” said the man who had cast the lariat with such signal success and in the very nick of time. ‘‘Ef we don’t hev a picnic now, yer kin kick me ter ther coast. am hyer, Cool Conrad! Look inter ther face ov Oregon Noll, an’ read yer doom!” The speaker had halted before the detective and with a leer of triumph in his eyes, This was the man whom Red Roy had boasted of killing in his cabin. Cool Conrad could not resist a start. “‘T thought Red Roy finished you!” he said, like a man forced to speak. ‘“‘Then Red Roy did it, eh?’ cried Captain Noll. ‘‘I wasn’t ther victim. He opened my door an’ shot another man !” CHAPTER XXX. THE SHADES OF DEATH, THE night so full of events for Pistol City wore on toward the dawn of another day. There was no Longer a wild boisterous gang of bronzed toughs at Holy Hank’s, for it had been dispersed by the tragedy and capture just re- lated, and the lingerers at the counter talked with sober tongues about a terrible vengeance which they asserted the new day was to wit- ness. What had become of Coo] Conrad? If the reader could have stolen unchallenged to within a few feet of Oregon Noll’s shanty, he would have seen the dark figures of six men whose positions proved them guards over some one on the inside. ; If he could have passed them and entered the cabin itself, he would have encountered a fine- looking man standing erect against a wooden post, to which he was secured by ropes stron- ger than any human arm in the Golden State. At the end of his hunt at last! The men who had been tracked from lair to lair had turned on their hunter, and that just: before he had finished his work. ; The tin lamp that illumined the interior of Captain Noll’s shanty revealed the man lashed to the post. He was not the sole occupant of the place. Reclining on a blanket within reach of the post and its captive was a stalwart fellow who appeared to be Beleep, but, in reality, he was watching Cool Conrad from the depths of eyes that glittered like a basilisk’s, The two deadly enemies were within arm's reach of each other. — Oregon Noll and his hunter, his indefatigable — tracker, were beneath the same roof; but the bunter-tiger had become the prey. ‘* Won’t I make him see the sun fer the last time to-morrow?” said the gold-camp desperado to himself, as he eyed his enemy. ‘‘ He doesn’t flinch, an’ yet I kin see thet he is busy thinkin’. ne named im rig ge when they called ’im Cool Conrad; but Ill try his coolness when mornin’ comes.” Ebookscor com