Beadle's Dime Library No. 351 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

16 the neck of the speculator, then sinking to the hilt Se i i hell in the ground floor. It was fear, not death, which had paralyzed his senses, and now his consciousness was being restored. Swiftly Dave Nichols resumed the position from which he had been dragged by his angry mate, and tearing the knife from its earthen sheath, he ele- vated it once more, where it hung quivering before the Ng of the capitalist when his senses were re- stored, ** Mercy!” he gasped, his voice dry and husky. *“Oain't be did!” muttered Nichols, shaking his head, his eyes looking more owlish than ever in that forest of straggly beard. “ We’re bound by the most turrible o’ oaths to slit the wizzen o’ every crazy galoot we run across—” * But I’m not crazy—”’ “Don’t ye say that, when we know better. You must be crazier’n a bob-tail bed-bug, or you’d never *a’ ’cused us 0’ robbin’ ye—wvs, who resked our lives jest to save ye from the rope, an’ got cut an’ slashed an’ shot all to pieces a-doin’ of it—”’ * But I’m ot crazy, 1 tell you! I’m just as sane as you are!” persisted Arthur Ovelman, though, even in that moment, when he felt that his life hung on a thread, he realized the weakness of his com- parison, for if these men were not iusane, then t mortal being was never cursed with unsettled brain. Slowly the gleaming weapon was lowered, and the glittering eyes of the giant gazed fixedly into his, = You're sure o’ that? You kin sw’ar that you ain’t 9) “Of course—you know it as well as I~” “That settles it—you needn’t say any more!” was the stern interruption. “It cut Sd Mealy deep to stick a loonatick, an’ when I tried it, my narve failed me, an’ I missed my lick, though I knowed it must be did, an’ by me, sence I lost the toss—but gwouw—lI kin do the job with a good grace! “They ain’t no use in goin’ over all that we’ve done fer you, or tellin’ the resk we run, then an’ now, ‘longo’ that work. You know it well enough. An’ what was our reward? You cussed us. Called us thieves an’ robbers. Likewise bloody sharks, Said that we hed robbed ye—picked your pockets, Hinted out loud that we hed nabbed your weasel- skin, froze to your ticker, cornfisticated your di’- mond pin an’ dollar-store julery. Them words cut mighty deep, when they come from a critter which _ we thunk was loony, an’so not ’sponsible fer his - talk; but how is it now that you say you're sober- sensible an’ plum’ ’countable fer what you spit out . at us?’ | *“An’ we two pore but honest critters!’’ added Nickerson. § ** Jes’ so. It’s a stain which nothin’ but blood kin _- wipe out!” gloomily muttered Nichols, his grip tight- By ening. “Say your pra’rs, old man, ef ye think they kin do ye any good whar you’re goin’. In jest two A seianits by the watch, you go up the flume fer good 44 Arthur Ovelman was rapidly recove his wonted coolness and shrewd wits. He saw that the two men were but playing on his fears, and that his life was in . mo immediate danger, as long as they thought there Was any gold to be won. | ‘That will do!” he growled, sullenly, meeting the - glowing cyes of the giant unflinchingly. ‘‘It’s mone an Te oy want to heal your injured honor— not my heart’s 4 blood. Name your price.”’ fF . “Kin we a’ford to do it, mate?’ asked Nichols, | turning to the fat claimant. ‘‘Kin we take the + ducats an’ let them orful slanders take keer o’ them- & @elves?’’ “Ef it was a crowd hed hearn him, I’d wote no, fJouder’n b’iled-down thunder; but they was only us two, an’ him. Reckon Tl hold onto my wote ontel | he names his figgers. Ef he shoves it up high .) enough, Pil sa g ve him another chaince|!"’ solemnly |. aittered the fat claimant. ot Arthur Ovelman writhed uneasily. Gold was the _ only God he acknowledged, and it was doubly bitter CB for him to part with it after this fashion, now that he believed his life was in no actual peril. +9 **There was more than a thousand dollarsin my oy. cket-book. Take that, and be satisfied. Set me €ree, and [give my word to let the matter drop, and gever trouble you—”’ “How kin we take what some other feller’s got?” | growled Nichols. “‘Think we're goin’ to run ‘round . CRE , ——_— a mite Se ee | ‘iuntin’ fera needle in a hay-stack? An’ we dyin’ fer the want of a doctor?” _ -—_s * ‘Tet me up, promise not to interfere with me for dive minutes, and if I don’t find the missing property | | at the end of that period, I'll forfeit double the ” said Ovelman, with a hard, meaning laugh. “You'll never git up ontel old Gabriel toots his orn, ef you hint eny more that-a-way!” indignantly | + hissed the giant. “Look yer. The time fer foolish- | dn’is past. We're goin’to be paid fer the sarvice 4 ’ > . fl * ; at ‘1 . ; | |. we've doneyou. Course you'll give it willin'ly. We - —- won’t force ye, not a bit. But your conscience is --|— goin’ to prick ye so almighty hard that you'll fork | over a heap o’ yaller salve to heal up all wownds.” . __“ Which it'll be turned over immediate to the fust _ . @haritable instertution which we stum'le across,” oe amended Nickerson, ‘Don’t fergit to putt that in, a ae “ How much do you demand?” growled the capi- | talist. “Be careful, or you may overreach your- . elf. I’m not a man to submit quietly to extortion, if pressed too far.” ! How much do you ’praise your damages at, ! <r rs Figger one, with three goose-aigs fer a tail,” was Py ) the prompt response, and the giant nodded approv- _ **Fain’t a mite too much, but I reckon we'll 5 of _. it do. You hearn him, boss? What do you *A thousand dollars! After your robbing me of more than that sum! 1’ll never give it?” in t- _ _ “ Two thousand, you m old gent!’’ grinned Nichols, showing his teeth. ‘One fer him, an’ one ferme. Little enough, too, when you remember all | ‘we've did, an’ how shamefully you ‘sulted us fer | doin’ of it. Two thousand, an’ call it squar’.” ; *T’ll never pay it!” growled Ovelman, dogredly. *'Pain’t fer yh = anit you're lyin’, boss, but I’m willin’ to bet m Oo truth jest aoe You kin be the jedge, i _ give you five minnits to make up your mind. Keep » . llar that you ain’t tellin’ the | too, An’I both stick together ontel we do git ‘em!” with a Ns ‘ 7 i” ~ poss A oye A. ait Pe. 1 te oa ee — Nor’ West Nick, the Border Detective. the time, mate!’’ and the giant lugged out a watch | which Arthur Ovelman ott ne recognized as the very one which had been stolen from him, passing it over to Nickerson, then squatting more heavily upon the chest of the luckless capitalist, raising his knife with an ugly flourish as he added: **Two minnits to own up that you lie. Two minnits to say that you'll pay the two thousand—”’ “Fer charitable purposes—don’s rergit that, pard!” “Two minnits to say you'll fork over that amount, or two minnits to make your peace an’ say your Ls be Ms Fer at the eend o’ that time, ef you're still obstinit, I'll sink a shaft clean through ye—so help me, John Wells!”’ Arthur Ovelman saw that the giant was in deadly | earnest now. All traces of acting had vanished, | There was a red, wolfish glare in his eyes that could not be mistaken. Dearly as he loved his gold, he | loved his life still more, and with a cursing groan, | he yielded to the inevitable. ‘*T promise. Take away that cursed knife, and let / me up.”’ ‘*Time ain’t all up, is it, mate?” “Got another minnit left to go on,” was the prompt reply... “Lucky fer you, boss, that you spoke out so quick,’’ with a savage laugh. “ Durned ef I know which I'd ruther hev, jest now—your ducats or your blood! Don’t any more nonsense, or mebbe I'll take a notion to hev ‘em doth /”” “Take me to the hotel, and Ill pay the ransom you exact. ican’t doit here, as you know only too well.” “Take keer, boss!’’ warningly hissed the giant. ** You’re trompin’ onto mighty dangersome ground, now, an’ ef you come down too heavy, the mine mought ’splode an’ blow you so high that the blue- birds 'd build in your ha’r afore you come down to airth ag’in! It’s fri’ndly ’vice I’m shovin’ at ye.” “It’s the truth, nevertheless,” doggedly. ‘I've got no money here. I can only pay you after I get ck to the hotel.” ‘**S’pose we run into the gang an’ gits cleaned out, tryin’ to git thar?” soberly demanded Nickerson, * How can I help that?’ growled Ovelman. * Jest as easy,” grinned the rascal. ‘‘ You come here to buy out Dan Brown, an’ brought the ducats ‘long with you. You left them with Cunnel Gordon at the hotel. Write a order fer the money, an’ ri run the resk o’ gittin’ it all right.” “How am I to know that you will set me free when you've got the money?” suspiciously demand- ed Ovelman, “*That’s a resk you’ve gottorun. But to sot your min? at rest, we’ll give you our words o’ honor— won’t we, mate?” Nichois nodded, but at the same time fingering the xeen voin* of his knife after a fashion that checked ch. scornful retort which rose in the throat of their captive. *Let me up and [ll write the order,” he mut- tered, with a smothered curse. ‘If you try to double on me, I'll get even, some time, if it takes mv last dollar!’ Nichols nimbly arose, leaving the capitalist free to use his arms, and taking a pocket-book from his breast, he opened is and drew therefrom a folded aper. *“They’s writin’ on one side, but that won’t mat- ter much, bein’ as you'll git it back from the cun- nel, An’ yar’s a self-writer, too. Ye see I go well bein’ a lit’rary sort o’ cuss, when the fit strikes me,”’ he grinned, with matchless impudence, as he handed the articles to Ovelman, who had no difficulty in recognizing his own ata A Biting his lips until the blood stained his teeth in the effort to keep down his raging passions, Ovel- man wrote the order bidding Colonel Gordon pay the bearer two thousand dollars from the funds in- trusted to his care, Slowly, word by word, letter by letter, almost, the two extortioners read over the contents, their eyes full of suspicion as their hearts were of avarice. “*Tt looks all squar’,”’ said Nickerson, dubiously. Nichols left the valuable document in his hands for the moment, leaping forward and kicking Ovel- man’s feet from under him, falling on top and clap- ping one broad palm over his lips to stifle all out- cry. Fearing the worst, Ovelman struggled des- perately, but he was like a child in that terrible grip, and was quickly choked into semi-unconscious- ness, Rapidly, yet thoroughly, Nichols bound him, hand and foot, then quiet! y squatted upon his chest while fashioning a rude gag from a portion of the luckless man’s clothing. “What do you mean?” gasped Ovelman, as 7 you’ve give us more’n we axed, by a giant, significantly. ‘* Who knows what slick little trick “pe may hev stuck atween the lines o’ that note? I’ve hearn tell o’ sech things, an’ they ain’t none o’ them goin’ to be shoved off onto this chicken-—-not much |” *T don’t understand you!’ ejaculated Ovelman. “Mebbe ye don’t—which’ll be a monstrous heap healthier fer you! How’s we to know but what you've got some secret sort o’ ’rangement with Cun- nel Gordon not to pay out any o’ B he money ‘less it’s got the right sort o’ mark? Mebbe it’s a trap you're tryin’ to run our necks into—”’ An impatient laugh from Ovelman cut him short. ‘*Bah! I don't do business balf-way. You've got the best of me, this deal, and I’m will to pay the damage. Some time I may get even, but for now you're winner, There will be no difficulty about your getting the money—”’ **So much the better fer you /” with a meaning nod, ‘All the same, I'll make you safe, ontel we fin- ger the ducats—”’ “'That’s business, mate!” cried Nickerson. ** While he watch him, ll go draw the ducats—” “Halt! hissed Nichols, turning his body, while his revolver covered the bya et on J figure of the fat claimant. ‘Take a step furder that way, afore I’m ready to g0 with you, an’ thar’ll be cold meat fer a funeral, right here!’’ “But we want to git the ducats, don’t we?” de- | manded Nickerson, in an injured tone, but coming to an abrupt halt. “*Sart'in—an as he could command the power of speech, have paid you—” ** Mebbe heap,” grinned the = — te at oe ee oe “*Fore I’d be as ’spicious as you, I’d chaw my own ears off—I would so /”’ growled Nickerson, in- dignantly. “°Tain’t fer fear o’ you runnin’ off with the money an’ fergittin’ to whack up—not a-tall!’’ de- _ clared Nichols, mockingly. “I know you're too | honest fer anythin’ like that, It’s only ’cause I’m *fraid you'll run into that p’izen gang an’ git strung up ef I ain’t along to h Ip ye fight ’em off,” ‘**That’s a hoss of a di/ferent color,’ smiled Nick- erson, as he tore off the bandages from his mock wounds, “I thunk you meant to sling a slur at my honor, an’ I was jest a-goin’ fer to mount ye like a | hungry wolf. Lucky ye spoke, jest as ye did, or somebody mought ’a’ got hurt, bad /” “That's all right. We'll know each other better afore we git to the eend o’ this pritty little specki- lation,” the giant laughed, then turning to Arthur Ovelman: ‘* Now, boss, I hate to do if, most orfully, but I’ve got to, ye see. Jest open your tater-trap, an’ suck this sugar-tit in, of your own free will, or I'll hev to coax ye, the least mite in the world.” As he spoke, he thrust the ugly-looking gag close to the mouth of his Eonets with one Ft while the other closed significantly upon his throat. ““What for? Why do you want to gag me?” de- penn rae ; inj ‘To guard ag‘in’ your injurin’ your lungs, squeal- in’ out fer help, when you think we're $00" fur away to hear ye,”’ grinned the far-sighted rascal. “* You're down yer in the sullar to a empty house, but though it’s kinder out o’ the way, ‘specially on Sundays, somebody mought come long an’ hear ye,” “Butif anything should nape to should leave me here, bound and gagge return—”’ “They's rats a-plenty to set you loose afore you quite starve, ef they only happen to begin gnawin’ at the right place,” interrupted Nichols, with a dia- bolical grin. “Tl give you my solemn pledge not to utter a sound above my breath, if you will only leave me ungagzed—” **It cain’t be did, so that's the eend of it!”’ seg hel ly; **T ain’t a-goin’ to run no longer chainces the hev to. Ef we don’t git snooped up an’ roped we'll be back here jest as soon as we've fingered our ducats. Ef we don’t come—waal, you'd better seep a-prayin’ that that won’t happen so!” As though tired of argument, Nichols closed his pote fingers on the throat of his victim with such a good will that Ovelman, fearing to be choked to death, opened his jaws sufficiently to receive the oe That's the ticket!” grinned the giant, relieving him of his weight. ‘*Good-by, boss—see you later! Extinguishing the candle, the two precious rascals left their victim in darkness, to imagine ten thou- sand horrors, while they hastened away to reap their golden harvest. Slowly enough the minutes dragged on to the hel less wretch lying there in the darkness, listening to the faint squeakings of the rats,which, now that the light had vanished, were recovering their natural audacity. What if they should attack him? And strange as it may seem, that was the most acute fear which now assailed the capitalist. The mocking words of the giant rung in his ears, and every mus- cle began to crawl and quiver as the objects of his mortal loathing and fear, ran over his helpless per- son. He could think of nothing else. Fach mo- ment was an age of torture. He would not have bren worse frightened had each rat been trans- fo~med into a poison-swollen rattlesnake. The memory of that hour would never leave Ar- thur Ovelman while his life lasted, and as the rats, with many an indignant squeak, fled to their holes and hiding-places as the sound of cautious footsteps were heard, Arthur Ovelman almost swooned with ou—if you , and never ov. You played a squar’ game, boss, an’ we’re bound to do the same,” came the guarded voice of Nichols through the gloom. ‘“* We got the money, though that pompous cuss, Cunnel Gordon, did his level best to pump us dry—but the pumps wouldn’t play, wuth a cent!” While speaking, the giant lighted the candle to show him where the fastenings of the gag were, and as his jaws were set at liberty, Ovelman uttered a piteous gasp. ‘“‘Thank Heaven, you have come! Oh, those hor- rible rats!” “Waal, [ ber-durned!” ejaculated the giant. ‘““Skeered at them little innercent critters? You, a great big man—” “It was worse over!” shuddered Ovelman, tlesnakes crawling—” “Talk a-plenty!”’ growled Nickerson, impatiently. “We want to skin out o’ this, in a hurry—you hear me preach {” ** Jost so—but you got to wait here a little longer, | boss. Give ushafe an hour to make tracks afore mee we out, or it'll be the wusser fer your eclth—’ ‘Ont me loose—leave the light, so those devils won’t Me come out, and I'll give any promise you enn “sk!’ . chols stared at him suspiciously, dreading some py ag but even he could see that the horror shown by -he ‘apitalist was rennine, nd @ con- oe ous laugh through his teeth as he m = e -eply: “ All recht. You shell hev yourway. But mind ye: ef you try to break kiver afore the hafe-hour is up, you'll hear somethin’ drap—an’ drap 70 hea ¢ i a be all night with you! Jest chaw onto that, will ye?’ Cutting him Joose, the two rascals turned and stole away, eager to make their escape with the | gold they had won, leaving Ovelman alone with the rais. than death, ten thousand times ‘*T’d rather have rat- nr CHAPTER XVII. ARTHUR OVELMAN RIDES—WHITHER? Lert alone by the two fellows Yor whose oat | phal services he had been so heavily taxed, Arthur velman felt almost cheerful, so groat was the con- trast between his present situation an that which he had so recently occupied. | »whe had a light, _ and was in full possession of his limos. Then he was fer that reason I reckon we'd better | bound, helpless and in the dark, wholly at the merey oi the rats, objccts of his greatest abhorrence, Grasping a Sick which lay; near the capitalist cGomircbooks Eee ae : ahs 2s Ae : _ ¢ : ' ' arr —_— = we ae