Beadle's Dime Library No. 351 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

< _ ata skulking rat, ** - composed himself to wait the period indicated by the black-mailers, resolved to give them no excuse for iy her ee him, k, by hook . ic” @ money bac ook or by croo he saattored: keeping a sharp lookout for rats, “ but l‘d rather lose it, ten times over, than to have the story get out!” A faint smile just touched his lips for an instant as he reflected how Sane the two rascals had layed their parts, how adroitly they had worked upon his fears. There was a grim humor visible through it all, now, even to his eyes, but at the time it had seemed anything but a jest. ‘*T’d double their haul, if I could be sure that they would serve me as faithfully as they have served themselves in this little game,’ and there came an ugly light into his eyes as he made a savage stroke **Curse the luck that brought me here—or rather curse my folly in listening to the girl! If she had not seen bim— How did he escape? They swore to his body—and men, too, who had been in his company day after day. Yet they were wrong! This devil is Kyrle Dando, deny the fact as he may. He means to make me trouble, too. I saw that in his eyes from the very first,and I thought to get ehent of him, by stirring up the mob—curse them for feather-heads! A single breatn was enough to face them about, even when they seemed at their fiercest. Better have bided my time—better have watched and—” His mutterings died away, but there was a look in his face, an evil light in his eyes that told plain enough in what direction his thoughts were trend- ing. Deenty and moodily he pondered, erg | where he was for the time being in his black plottin for the future, only awaking to a consciousness o the time and place when the candle burned out, the smoking wick failing from the splinters, leaving the cellar in darkness the most intense. With a cold shudder of terror as he thought of the rats, Arthur Ovelman made a blind rush for the place of exit, only pausing when out in the full lare of the afternoon sun, which seemed to blind m, Only then did he remember what the two black- mailers had told him about an avenging, blood- thirsty mob, and he shrunk back avainst the de- serted cabin, peering anxiously around. The main street was almost entirely free of people. He could detect nothing which told of a mob, and then he realized that this, too, had been part of the comedy played so adroitly by the two rascals, Still, he preferred to run no unnecessary risks, and settling in his mind the location of the Arling- ton, he stole along through the thinly-scattered shanties which were planted promiscuously back of the one street of which Rocky Bar could boast, and finally succeeded in reaching the hotel without ar- resiiug particular attention. Colonel Gordon eyed him curiously, the capitalist fancied, but he gave that _slow-speaking worthy no time to frame a eine hastening up to his room, where he quickly changed his soiled and_blood- stained garments. His head was aching heavily from the effects of Nor’ West Nick’s “creasing shot,” but a careful examination told him that he had lit'le to fear from that scurce, beyond a tem- orary inconvenience and soreness. For reasons of us own, he did not care to call in the services of a physician, and managed to « over the lips of the wound with ccurt-plaster himself. Then, all traces of his recent misadventures obliterated, to the casual observer, Arthur Ovelman hastened to the room where he had left his daughter, safely locted in. He found all as he had left it, and opening the door, he crossed the threshold. Marjean, paler than ever, her eyes showing traces of long and bitter weeping, zlanced up at his ap- proach, but then her head drooped once more, and silence reigned. Arthur Ovelman’s brow contracted with a heavy frown, ard the old, bard light deepened in his eyes as he approached the sorrowing woman and sunk heavily intu a chair beside her. Now look here, Marjean There’s reason in all ngs, or there should be. You are old enough to know better than to give way inthismanner. Iam ashamed of you, girli”’ For what?’ demanded the woman, raising her head with a swift gleam in her eyes. ‘“* Because I have a& heart, still? Because you will persist in wearing it on. your sleeve. Why, if you knew what all the town is say- ing about you, you would feel like asking the earth to open and swallow you up!” A hard, bitter laugh broke from her lips. What care I what they say or thivk? he time for that is past. I only know this—that the man [ love is still alive—that he is here, in the same town, breat hing the same air that I breathe —” You are mad, girl!’’ hotly interrupted the man. “*If 1am mad, who made me so?” “Your own rank folly! Come—don’t force me to utter avy more unpleasant truths. Look at the mat- ter calmly, and you will see that you are wholly in the wrong. oe e Dando died years ago. But, even granting that heis still living—that this fellow whom you believed you recognized last night, is the es- caped felon, the runaway forger—” *“ A fclon through Bare cunning arts—an innocent man, doomed to suffer for your sins!” cried Mar- jean, her face aglow and her eyes flashing with an unwonted fire, as she sprung to her feet and con- oo meso. schemer, - Silence!’ he grated, angrily, ow dare you—” ““Strike!’’ she said, unflinchingly, as his clinched fist menaced her. “It will not be the first blow you have dealt me, though the other left no mark which ordinary eyes could see and comment upon, since it bruised my heart, not face.” The up hand sunk to bis side, and with a forced laugh Arthur Ovelman resumed his seat, say- ing, with affected carelessness: ‘Bah! I’m a fool to notice what a peas Cas says —but for all that, my lady, 1 advise"you £0 slow. ‘What I said in a fit of anger. may come to pass after calm reflection, unless you show speedy signs of amendment.” “pe ag her desperation, there was something in | his vo ce that chilled the blood of the woman, as she Nor’ West Nick, the Bor - pttinetnatnntttntintadie aise sunk into her chair, covering her eyes once more with her hand. ‘“*T don’t want to speak to or treat | Marjean,”’ he added, more kindly. ‘*Butif you re- fuse to listen to reason, I must use harsher mea- sures. You have brooded. so long over this matter that your brain is on the point of giving way, and ou are unable to see matters as they are. Kyrie ando is dead. This man swore that he was not the one you fancied. But even if be lied then, in saying that, he denied yu, he said that he was mar- ried, with a family of children, After that, even granting that he is Kyrle Dando, what is he, what cun he be to you?” ‘‘He spoke under a misapprehension,” said Mar- ou harshly, | jean, the old spirit flashing into her eyes asshe lifted er head and met the lowering gaze of her father without flinching. ‘‘ He believed that I swore to a lie in those terrible days. He wanted toshame and wound meinturn. He will beg my pardon when he knows all—when he knows that you were the crimi- nal, not me—that I, as well as he, suffered from your cunning plot to ruin him forever!’’ . “Stop!” sternly cried Ovelman, “ You have said enough. Noteven my daughter shall accuse me of such acrime, Dare to hint at such a thing again, and I swear that I will put you where your rank folly can hurt no one!”’ He ceased speaking, his face purple with rage, his voice choking so that he could say no more. Again the woman shrunk away, filled with a name- less horror. With a desperate effort Arthur Ovelman composed himself. * Now listen to me, Marjean. Like a fool, I lis- tened to your entreaties and brought you here, at no little inconvenience to myself. I will see this Brown, and close the bargain for his mine at once, then I will take you away with me, to our home, if you recover your senses; to an asylum, if you still entertain these mad fancies, Give me your solemn promise that you will not leave this room—that you will make no attempt to see this fellow whom you fancy is Kyrle Dando, magically restored to life— that you will not speak to him, even should he be audacious enough to seek an interview, and I will eave you at liberty. Refuse, and I will lock you in this room and give the landlord warning that on. have gone crazy—that you are dangerously mad.” Before Marjean could answer, the sound of hasty footsteps on the stairs startled them, then came a quick rap at the door. With a warning glance toward his daughter, Ar- thur holding in — ie ve o bey stood a man, ho one hand a se etter, his appear- ance that of one who had ridden fast and far. ¢ * Your name is Ovelman, I reckon?” was thle blunt Ty. : ‘ poe wine do you want?” snapped the capi- alist. Letter fer you, from the boss, Ain't no time to be perlite,” jerked forth the messenger, leani against the door-casing as though greatly wearied, holding ferth the note. ‘“*And pray who may you call the boss?” demanded Ovelman, a little suspiciously, as he gingerly took the soiled letter. *“Reckon you'll find’ his name inside, but ef you want to know in a hurry, we call him Dan Brown,” aig Sgt hur Ovelman tcre open the envelope and has- tily ran his eyes over the contents, They were short, and to the point: “A, OVELMAN, Esq. :— ‘**DearR Sir:—Business of importance which will admit of no delay, calls me to Denver. If we are to make a trade for the Jealous Girl, it must be at once, You know my price. Cash down, and the mine is ha, bei 2 the offer must be closed with at once, or he bargain is off, I will just have time to show you over the mine, if you respond immediately on re- ceipt of this. No e to give details of Isst night's work. The bearer can be trusted, and will answer all questions. if you want the property, come—if not. gooa-vy. tu great haste, yours “Dan Brown.” “Where is Mr. Brown?” asked Ovelman, turning to the man, *“*At.the mine, when I left him. He said he’d wait fer pa at the shanty, jest this side,” was the prompt a How far from here?” “Matter o’ three miles or sech. You goin’? *’Scuse me ef I seem blunt, but I hed orders from the boss to come back, hot-foot, whether you come along or not,”’ he added apologetically. ‘*A delay of five minutes will make little differ- ence. We can more than make that up by fast rid- ing, said Ovelman, coolly. “I’ve had a little ex rience to-day that makes me dubious about going into anything blindfolded.” While speaking, he took a letter from his pocket which had been written him by Dan Brown, before he came West, and carefully compared the two, Making allowance for the last received letter being written with a pencil, and on some rough substance, the resemblance was sufficiently strong to dissipate his vague suspicions. “All right. I will be with you aoe time you ell the landlord as have them saddle me a horse, T you go down.” Without a word the messenger turned upon his heel and clattered down the stairs, while Ovelman addressed Marjean: “That mine business calls me away, and T may not be able to return before dark, Promise me he asked, and 1 will leave you at liberty. You Her dark eyes met his gaze, but she gave no fur- ther sign, and in a fit of rage he turned away, with & muttered curse, She heard the key turned in the lock, then the heavy footsteps of her parent descending the stairs. A short delay, then the rapid clattering of hoofs on the flinty street told her that he had departed in company with the messenger. Arthur Ovelman was a good rider, and easily kept his place beside the messenger, who was none other than Tim Toplift, who had brought the news of the descent of Captain Slyboots and his gang up- on the Jealous Girl, to Rocky Bar, just in time to ee a eS _— der Detective. en ee a —- aid on Brown in proving an alibi for Nor’ West ick. ‘‘Tn his note, Mr. Brown said that you would an- swer any questions which I might see fit to ask you, Is the property increasing or decreasing in value? “ Ef it was ote, money a buy it—only fer one thing,’’ was the prompt reply. “Pray what is that?” asked Ovelman, with in- terest. . “That cussed Cap'n Slyboots an’ his gang! We fit °em off last night, so they didn’t do much dam- age, but—”’ , Ss Last night!’ echoed Ovelman, his eyes opening widely. ‘‘ What happened then? Teil me all about it, please!”’ A shade of annoyance swept across the face of Toplift, but vanished as quickly. In ignorance that the man he was now riling with had been shot senseless by Nor’ West Nick, just before he came upon the scene with his startling announcement, he had taken it for granted that the raid was known, “They ain’t much to tell, but it ain’t no secret. Ye see, this crooked cuss which they calls Cap’n Sly- boots, "pears tu hev a special spite ag’inst the boss— leastways, he does all he kin to hurt him, both in pocket and in person, though the boss ain’t dead yit by a long sight! : “Last night, while me an’some others was keepin ard, the dirty whelps come down onto us, heavy, fo. we smelled ’em out jest afore they got in thar work, an’ was all ready. ey was a good deal o wder burnt, an’ two o’ our boys got throwed col but we fit’em off, an’ kep’ em from doin’ any ré harm tothe works, They hung around fer a while, an’ when they i/ go, we was skeered to show our noses outside, fer fear they was layin’ fer us still. But ‘long in the forenoon, I made a break fer town, an’ told the boss what was up. He come out at once, an’ then a man come to him with a note which ‘peared to stir the boss al) up on eend, I don’t know what was in it, but he told me to saddle up fer to come to Rocky Bar, an’ when I was ready, he give me that note an’ told me to hunt you out as quick as I could, to give you it, to ax was the answer yas or no, an’ .hen to mosey back hot-foot, whether you ’cluded to goalong or not. An’ that’s ’bout all. Arthur Ovelman seemed satisfied, and they rode on in silence. He was busily thinking the matter over. He believed the mine to be cheap at the aes fixed, from all the papers he had seen, as well as from his talk with Dan Brown since his arrival at Rocky Bar, and only for this mysterious creature, Captain Slyboots, he would not have entertained a single doubt as to the advisability of closing promptly with the offer, though he had not told the exact truth in saying that he was purchasing for a stock company, acting only as agent. Thecompany might exist in the future, but at present no one was inter- ested in the matter but himself. “Thar’s the place whar the boss said he would meet us,” suddenly said Toplift, pointing out a rough- looking shanty half-hidden among the brush and rocks. ‘“ He’s inside, I reckon.” Arthur Ovelman touched up his horse, and galk loped up to the door, which swung ajar as he lea to the ground, anda voice called out: “Good. You came, then? Come in for a mo- ment.”’ As Ovelman crossed the threshold, his extended hand was grasped, he was jerked forward—then came a crushing blow. Without a groan, he fell for- ward on his fave, CHAPTER XVITL A SCARLET MYSTERY. “ WHoorAY, boys! | knowed I couldn’t be se mighty fur out o’ the way—yender’s the old split-top cedar, an’ jest beyond that ag’in we'll find the old shanty!” ** We ain’t doin’ any more hollerin’ ontel we see what we’ve got to holler fer!” doggedly re- torted another voice, in the tone of one who had often been the victim of misplaced confidence, ‘* Ef ever you ketch this chicken out huntin’ fer deer in these hills ag’in, jest knock me on the head en’ plant me whar the wolves won’t get | a —— p’izened tryin’ ter swaller me!” ‘Things has gone sorter crooked, sure enough—” ‘*Crooked ain’t no word fer it!” in supreme disgust. ‘‘ Not so much as a deer-track in a all-day tramp. One squar’ fall over the durned stumps an’ dornicks fer each rod o’ ground kiv- ered. Notadurned mouthful o’ grub ‘cept bad whisky, an’ you must tumble down an’ bu’st wide open the only bottle which hed a drap left in it, fer snake-bites!” ‘* Waal, it’s mighty hard, I know,” laughing- ly, “‘ but thar’s a good squar’ drink ahead o’ us now, so nigh that | kin e’ena’most smell it from here. We'll be all right then—s open, easy road leadiv’ straight to Rocky Bar—” “‘Tt’s all moonshine! They ain’t no bottle — thar. The7 ain’t no shanty—never was—never will be. wurned ef I believe tharis any sech place as Rocky Bar. sion, an’ we’ll jest wake up to git fooled, like it hes bin ever sence we struck out on this fool prospect.” ‘‘One thing we can be sure of, anyway— worse luck!” impatiently muttered the third member of the hunting-party, “and thatis, that Grumbling Ginger hasn’t bitten off his tongue in any of his tumbles. Do give us a rest, old man. ‘*Ef be spits out ary other grumble, divil the sup 0’ the bottle shill he have when we bitches onto it. Whooray—didn’t I tell ye so? Ain’t that the shanty? Ain’t thara bottle o’ the finese mount’in dew jest waitin’ fer us to kiss it in thar? An’ you contrairy critters throwin’ it up to me that I was lost, an’ couldn’t find my way nowhars! An’ I all the tine leadin’ of ye straight as a die to the spot whar glory awaits JOO (e@lnn (c 17 It’s all a snare an’ a delu- | > ee ee ee eee + -* ap a : ; ) i > = s&s FF ™ * ia a 4 * . , te a ewe tee mw - " # — « -—~ j yore. 4 iy - ie m . . ~ in I TT SK ee