Beadle's Dime Library No. 351 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

** What object could he have for committing the deed?” ** Before he left the office, Mr. Ovelman with- drew from my charge the sum of fiftv thousand dollars in greeubacks. These he carefully placed in his breast-pocket, saying at the same time that the money was to pay ‘or the Jealous Girl. He ieft the botel. I saw him mcuut the horse I furnished, and saw him ride off in company with Timothy Toplift.” For a moment after Colonel Gordon ceased speaking, there was a silence almost oppressive, aileves being turned upon Toplift, who shifted uneasily from foot to foot, but still keeping his eyes ov the floor, still with that dogged look npon his face. And bis face grew more ghastly as a rough voice cried out from somewhere in the crowd: “Reason enough fer killin’? a dozen men! Make the critter tell all he knows, or else string bim up to loosen his tongue!” That blunt speech was sufficient. It was like casting a blazing torch into a crowded hay- mow. The :urmur swelled to a roar—the cry above all others the most horrible and awe-in- spiring—the yell for human blood ! ‘* Buck!” cried St. Clair Guthrie, facing the crowd with leveled pistols. ‘Back, I say! or I'll shoot—to kill !” The mob paused, but it was only to make a surer rush, CHAPTER XIX, A TALE OF HORROR. EvEN his worst enemy must have given the rt of Rocky Bar credit for rare nerve and ptahik of it, as he stood there facing the howl- oe. bloodthirsty crowd, single-handed against two-seore, defending Tim Toplift from the sud- den outburst of fury, all the more dangerous from being so blind and unreasoning. ‘‘ Back! keep your distance, gentlemen!” he cried, his voice ringing out hard and mevacing, his blue eyes flashing fire, his white face hard- set and dangerous, ‘‘ It’s the truth we want to find out, and that we’ll have, if you act sensi- N or’ West Nick, the Border Detective. | owé it to ourselves and to Rocky Bar to probe | this matter to the very bottom, to get at the whole truth, and then avenge the foul deed, let the lightning strike where it will!” St. Clair Guthrie paused to catch his breath, and a ery of approval burst from the easily- sweved crowd. ‘*T could wish that somebody else had taken the lead in this matter, but since I have been crowded into acting as dealer, I’ll run the cards out. Tim Toplift, look here,” and St. Clair Guthrie placed a hand heavily upon the shoul- der of the foreman of the Jealous Girl, looking him full in the eye, with a stern, impressive gaze. ** ‘You know more about this matter than you choose to tell. You were the last one to see Artbur Ovelman alive, so far as we can learn. _He rode away from Rocky Bar in your com- pany, taking with him a large sum of money. A few hours later, he is discovered dead, the victim of an atrocious murder, from all appear- ances. You are found in the same cabin, wounded, just recovering your senses. The matter can be explained in only two ways. Kither you were burt in murdering Arthur Ovelman, or else shot and left for dead by the assassin,” **T never laid so much as the weight o’ my lit- tle finger onto him!” muttered the foreman, still dozgedly. “‘ Who did, then?’ impatiently cried the gam- bler, his grip tightening. ‘‘ You must k»now— and by the Lord above! you’ve got to tell every- thing, or I’ll fit the noose around your throat with my own hands! Come! which shall it be?’ One glance.around bim Tim Toplift cast. | There could be no mistaking the sentiments of the c’ewd. There was death in every eye— death ‘n every face upon which his eyes rested, and tit:n his nerve failed him. *Tduln’t want to do it, but he eain’t blame me whe itcomes to this!” he muttered, shrink- ing away from those threatening glances. ‘He treated re like a dog—an’ me workin’ my four bones clean off—” | | ut oe come to the place whar the man was fo meet im. ‘“‘We halted at the shanty whar these boys found me an’—an’ tbe corpus,” hesitating over the choice of a word, but then continuing more rapidly: ‘I told the boss all that had happined at the Girl. an’ he jest listened, not sayin’ so much as a word. I could see that he wasn’t in his usual mood, an’ so held my husb ontel the novion should strike him to open out. An’ so we sot thar ontel past noon, when the man he was lookin’ fer come along. ‘‘ It was a clean stranger to me—don’t reckon he’d ever bin in them purts afore, thougu be come in as cool as though he’d lived thar all his life, an’ handed the boss a letter without sayin’ a word, ‘*The boss opened an’ read it, an’ his face turned as white an’ sickly jookin’ as thut of a ghost. I thunk he was goin’ to keel over, an’ jumped to ketch bim, but he turned on me with a sick-lovkin’ smile, an’ motioned me_ back, Then him an’ the siranger went outside, leavin’ me in the cabin, though I moved so I could keep a eye onto them, fer I didn’t like the look o’ the strange cuss, overly much, an’ thunk mebbe he ‘lowed to play some sort o’ gum-game onto the ss. ‘‘They talked fer a bit, then the boss writ somethin’ an’ give it to the stranger, who jest nodded an’ turned away. I could hear the trompin’ o’ his boss’s feet, an’ knowed by that that he’d gone back whar be come from. ‘*The boss come inside an’ writ a letter, seal- in’ it up afore he putt it in my ban’s, tellin’ me to ride hot-foot to town an’ give it to Arthur Ovelman, Iwas to wait fer a answer, an’ ef he wanted to come with me, I was to fetch him straight to the shanty, whar the boss would be waitin’. ‘I did jest as he told me. The old gent read the letter, an’ questioned me mighty close, seem- in’ to think that thar was some sort 0’ trick kiv- ered up in it, but then he looked satisfied, an’ we rid out o’ town together. I tuck him straight to ow eee ys - e e* * ‘. > bly. The man can’t escape us, e will confess **In one word—will you confess?’ demanded | the shanty, as I was told. He rid on a little 4 everything, if he is given time to realize his | the gambler. ahead, as I p’inted it out, au’ got down off his a danger—” Tain’t confessin’, fer I didn’t hev nothin’ to | critter.” R: ‘** Which he kin see the quickest through the do with the job,” trembled the foreman. ‘ But Toplift’s voice was growing more husky and $ noose of a trail-rope!” radely interrupted the I’ll tell ye the bull story, though it’s like tearin’ | uncertain as he proceeded, and now he came to acl man who had started the cry for lynching. the heart out o’ my body—” a pause, wetting his parched lips with hi on ‘** Down with ’em both, ef he stan’s in the way.” Better that than having your neck stretched, | tongue, St. Clair Guthrie made a gesture, a’ d ry St. Clair Guthrie saw the crouching, restless if you are really innocent,” interposed the gam- | one of his employees handed the witness a giass et viver which ran through the crowd at this | bler, with ahard laugh. “ Must I question you, | of liquor. He swallowed it down at a gulp, ve ery speech, and past experience told him that | °F will you teil your story of your own ac- | then resumed his narrative, speaking more rap- bert the loss of an instant might be fatal, There cord? idly, as though fearful of his own courage. z: was only one chance, and that one he took, Let me reel it off my own way. It’s hard ‘* The old gent stepped in the hous«, and then I oa With a motion swift as light his weapon shift- | °70" h, at the best,” was the sullen response. see’d him stumble, as I thought, but at the same ed its aim and covered the bold speaker. Oualy ery good—but mind: this is your last | time he give a cry of what mought ’a’ been Pt: an instant—barely long enough for the fellow to | Chance. If we catch you tripping, I'll step | warnin’ to me, but I didn’t think what it meant oc! realize his peril, without giving him a chance to | @Side and let these gentlemen try what virtue | then—an’ then comea shot, an’ I tumbled out o Con avoid it —then the revolver exploded. Straight | there is in a dose of hemp.” the saddle!” _ . _— through the brain crashed the missile. One Give me a drink, then, somebody. I’m Again Toplift paused, a flush of color coming a boarse, strangling cry. The death-stricken chokin’ as it is? into his face, which deepened as St. Clair Guth ae wretch staggered back, turned half-way round, A glass of liquor was brought from the bar, | rie, sternly demanded: ‘ oy his eyeballs almost bursting from their sockets, | #04 hastily swallowing it, Tim Toplift plunged ‘* Who was it that fired that shot?’ : Sa thep fell heavily forward upon his face, a headlong into his story, as though eager to get “It was a man,” slowly. “I jest ketched a corpse ere his carcass touched the blood-stained through witha painful task. glimp’ o’ him afore the bullet knocked me over. a floor! ‘Last night, while I an’ some o’ the boys was | Not enough to sw’ar to him.” ae: Instinetively the crowd shrunk away, horror | 0? guard duty over the Girl, we was jumped by ‘But afterward? Come, Toplift,” and there is in their eyes and mingling with the fear in their | Cap’n Sly boots an’ his gang 0’ Anti Monopolists, | was a menacing glitter in those cold orbs as the e faces. It was his one chance, and St. Clair | @8 they call themselves. Lucky fer us, they | gambler spoke, ‘‘you’re in a tight box, and Guthrie promptly improved it. didn’t ketch us nappin’, an’ though two of the | there’s only one way to clear yourself. Arthur bad ‘‘] hated to do it, gentlemen, but the hot- boys chawed cold lead an’ was throwed in thar Ovelman bas been murdered, and we have af headed fool brought it upon bimself. He had tracks, we fit the p’izen imps off—” sworn to avenge his death. One of two things: .: his warning, just as you bave yours. Crowd me What bas this to do with the murder of Ar- | Either you murdered him for the large sum of *: too close. and he’ll have company over the thur Ovelman?” money whicb he carried on bis person, or you a range. This fellow may have killed Arthur ** You said fer me to tell the bull story, arter | know who the criminal] is, We are determined “ae Oveiman, but he’s got to be proven guilty before | MY Own fashion, an’ I’m doin’ it the best I know | to learn the whole truth. If you refuse to speak, aes being lynched—and [| call on o!! order-loving how,” sullenly retorted Toplift, showing bis | we will string you up by the throat until you { citizens to second me in this resolve.” teeth. ‘That was part o’ the job, though you | confess—or die/ Take your choice!” os “?Tain’t no more’n right, an’ durned ef I ain’t mayn’t think so, jest now,” The color faded from the face of the foreman, Oat with ye tell the cows come bome!” cried Wil- “All right—fire abead. But don’t try our | and he broke into a harsh, discordant laugh, as kins, ranging bimself alongside the gambler, patience any. more than you can help.” muttering, as though to himself: ee with ready revolvers. ‘‘ Fa’r play, mates! The ** We fit ’em off, though we couldn’t be sure ‘He brung it onto himself! What made him aoe! trail-rope won’t sp’ile, an’ mebbe thar’s a heap that they wasn’t Jayin’ ’round under kiver | treat me like a no-’count dog, fer? He didn’t Para wuss critter mixed upin the scrape then Tim | Teady fer to snake usin the minnit we showed give me a show, an’I’d be a bloody fool toswing oe Toplift. Le’s make a clean haul while we’re | OUF noses out o’ the hole,” doggedly resumed | on Ais a’count!” ‘2 *bout it—not go off at hafe-cock!” the witness, closely adhering to the line which | ‘‘Come!” impatiently added St. Clair Guthrie, “ ‘It is no more than fair that the prisoner | be had laid out. ‘But when the sun got Wel] | “Time is pressing. Will you speak out of your , should be given another chance to clear him- | up, an’ we couldn’t make out anyvbin’ o’ the | own free will. or must we see what the per- athe self,” added Colonel Gordon, joining the twain, | gang, I made a break fer it, to tell the boss how | suasion of a close-fitting noose will do?” wy armed with a brace of saw-bandied dueling- | matters hed gone, | “PU tell all I know,” sullenly, “but don’t e° pistols. ‘‘ Fall into the ranks, men of law and “IT got thrcugh all right, as ye know, fer ye crowdafellertoohard. It’s a p’izen nasty dose order!” see’d me come into town this mornin’, when ye toswaller,asitis, Nur I wouldu’t go back onto Grumbling Ginger and Matney were the next | were havin’ things lively enough—but that bim, though you fetched on a cord o’ trail-ropes, to join the men who guarded Toplift, but the | don’t matter to my story. | ef be hedn’t went back on me fu’st!” me: force of the wave was broken, and the crisis **T told the boss what had happined, an’ he ‘‘Never mind your reasons. We want the 2 past, The cry for buman blood had died away, | rid with me out o’ town, but when I tried to | truth, and don’t care how we get at it, nor your S and the iron nerve of the gambler bad won, | tell bim what all hed bappined, he jest shut me reasons for telling it.” though none better realized the terrible risk he up mighty short, an’ said that he wanted to ‘“*] jest ketched a glimp’ 0’ the man who shot, es bad run. think—an’ ef looks don’t lie, he was doin’ a | afore i tumbled out o’ the saddle, but, as I said, ; ‘Thanks, gentlemen!” be cried, his voice as | powerful sight o’ thinkin’, too! it wasn’t enough fer me to photograph him, jest Br, clear, as even and tranquil as though the wings ‘¢ All the same, he led the way at a good gait, | then. I wasn’t killed, as ye know, though it i. of death bad never cast their cbillit g shadow | an’ when be tuck the wrong turn at the forks, | was @ mighty cluss call, fer the lead struck me z over his head, ‘*I knew that you would recog- | an’ I ’minded him of it, he turned onto me right low ee down to hev bored my brain-pan, a nize the correctness of my position the moment | savagerous, sayin’ that he knowed his own busi- | ef it hedn’t glanced like, skinnin’ ’round the F you took a second thought. It is justice we | ness best. _ skull an’ comin’ out on top o’ my nut, Wilkins, eS want, noi a lynching picnic, plunged into with- ‘*T reckon he see that I was kinder burt at his thar, kin tell ye ef I’m lyin’.” >a out rhyme or reason. A foul murder has been | rough way o’ speakin’, when I hedn’t meant to ‘It’s jest as he says, gents,” put in the man ct A committed, and that upon the person of a_ cross his notions in any way, fer he looked back appealed to. “I tied up his head, an’ ort to > : stranger here, who confided in our honesty and with that pleasant smile o’ his, an’ said that be know.” manhood, As white men, with bearts thatcan was ’spectin’ word from down kentry, that ‘* What has that got to do with the murder?” ie * feel for and sympathize with the poor young mornin’,an’ that he’d oear all lhedtosay when impatiently interposed St. Clair Guthrie. ** Got > ae lady who is left an orphan in astrange land, we _ down to business,” i . “f ’ “abe i. J ier. - } o ae ; | a VN A ae , cComicbooks:com Gs: ee a ee ee