Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 365 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

Keen Kennard, the Shasta Shadow. **Open your head, and I will send you to your grave without brains! Come with me.” Unable to utter a word from astonishment, the Red Eye pard followed the man from Shasta, The two moved toward the side of the camp at which Keen Kennard had entered. The cabins were passed one by one. At last the detective halted before one of the silent shanties. ‘* You know this cabin?’ he said, looking at California Charley who had started. ‘I ought ter.” ‘‘Itis the death pit of Red Eye,” and Ken- nard sent the door open withakick, ‘‘ You are going into it,” he went on with merciless firm- ness. ‘‘ I can’t afford toleave your tongue loose in Red Eye,” ‘For God’s sake keep me out 0’ thar!” cried the sport, in pleading tones, ‘‘ Any death but ther one in—thar,.” ‘Keep you out? Not for all California, old fellow, Il know my duty. Go in!” ‘** Never! May my feet wither if I do.” “Then I'll throw you in!” The next moment the man from Shasta almost lifted California Charley from the ground and pitched him headlong into the death-trap! CHAPTER XXI. IN CABIN NUMBER FOUR. ‘“So much for Vera’s information!” ejacu- lated Keen Kennard, as he closed the door of the cabin and turned away leaving California Charley to his terrible fate. ‘* That man knew me on sight, Canit be that Il wear a mask so easily penetrated? What will Dropshot Bluff, the boss of this place, do when I encounter him? I am here to rescue Gilbert who is in danger, as the sorceress “gs California Charley’s story confirms hers. hey tried to force the boy’s se- eret from him, and he showed his teeth; he kill- ed one of the pardsof Red Eye. I must find the young gold bug.” Nobody seems to have witnessed the recogni- tion, and the doom that swiftly followed. Was California Charley the only Red Eye pard abroad when the Shasta detective came into camp? If he was, Keen Kennard had been for- tunate in finding him so soon. The gold-hunter directed his steps toward Gilbert Golden’s cabin. He hardly expected to find the boy there after what the doomed rough had told him, but he knew not where to look first if not there, He found the door of the cabin slightly ajar, and the next moment he stood half-way inside, trying to pierce the gloom ahead, while he listen- ed for a sound that would tell him that Gilbert was at home. ‘* He doesn’t seem to be here,” said Kennard, in audible tones at last. ‘‘If he shot a man he would never be left in his own cabin under guard.” But to make certain of the boy’s absence the man from Shasta stepped inside, closed the door and struck a match. All at once an ejaculation of surprise escaped: him. ‘*They caught him here, retreated to did not whether t alive.” The match shaded by his hand showed him the cabin’s furniture in topsy-turvy condition. The stool and table were overturned, the latter being in a wrecked condition, and there were not wanting more evidences of a desperate struggle with desperate men. Here and there were dark spots on the floor which told the detective that blood had been shed, and the longer he looked, the more he be- came convinced that the pards of Red Eye had dealt summarily with the lost man of Gold Gorge. He had come too late to rescue Gilbert! The match went out and the detective stood in the darkness awhile to collect his thoughts. ** Mebbe he went ahead of California Charley !” he suddenly exclaimed. ‘*‘ Heavens! if they have treated the boy thus, thar’s no telling what Pll do before I leave this camp.” He stood once more in the starlight, with the door of Gilbert’s cabin shut behind him. He looked up and down Red Eye’s one s‘rect, but saw nothing, A strange curiosity impelled him toward tho famous “fourth cabin,” and a few moments later he stood in front of it again, ‘California Charley has found bottom ere this,” said Keen Kennard. ‘He has reached the three men be told me about just before I pitched him into the place.” He opened the door and stepped carefully in- side, then he struck a light meal Inoked around, For a moment_he saw nothing but a cabin-floor entirely devoid of furniture of any kind, but at last he saw an opening in the middle, “The trap!” he said. “It is too big for Cali- fornia Charley to miss” Keen Kennard now felt his way inch by inch over the floor, which appeared scund for some distance. The several matches bunched in his Gilbert must have is cabin after the shooting. He penn without a struggle. I doubt ere is a chance of finding the boy hand showed him the way, and his hand not ! then.” The next instant the knife of the detective had thus employed felt the planks inch by inch. i OS Se a 19 He reached the trap in this manner. It con- severed the rope that encircled the youth, and sisted of a square board which swung downward, | he went to the door and looked out. and was arranged in such a manner that any object falling upon it would bo hurled into the dark depths eee It was a terrible trap, and Keen Kennard pushed the swinging board downward until he could look into the darkness of the abyss. A cold, damp smell came up; he could see nothing. ‘** If Gilbert is down there, rescue is not to be thought of,” he said. ‘* The gold secret has per- ished with the boy.” He was about to fling his flickering light into the pit when a rope caught his eye. It led into the pit itself at one corner of the trap-door, and following it up, the Shasta Sleuth saw it fasten- ed to a heavy iron staple in the log near the floor. The rope was stretched tight as if something heavy dangled from the end hanging down the opening, ‘Keen Kennard crawled over to it and tried to draw it up, but could not move it with- out a great effort. ; ‘‘Hang me! if ’m not goin’ to see what's at the end of this cord!” exclaimed the detective. ‘* Maybe [ve struck the treasure-box of Red Eye ped $ Heavens! what if I find the lost Ophir ere? As the floor up to the very edge of the trap was solid, Kennard ventured forward and worked without fear. Heswung the trap-door back and struck some more matches. Then he tore some lining from his jacket and set it on fire. **T'll send a searcher down the shaft,” he said, leaning over the pit with the fabric blazing in his hand, and the next moment he dropped it down, Like a fiery ball the mass fell over and over in its descent, revealing to the Shasta Sleuth a nar- row and almost circular shaft, about eight feet across. He kept his eyes fixed on the tightened rope, which was shown by the fire-ball, and looked eagerly for the end. ‘* Merciful God!” suddenly exclaimed the man ‘** As [ live, there is a human being at the end of the cord. Is it Gilbert?” He saw this startling object butfor a moment, for the light had passed it and was flying down the chasm, ‘*T feel like shooting my way out of this devil’s den!” the detective went on, as he rose and found himself in darkness again. ‘ This is the revenge of Red Eye. They first corner Gil- bert and tantalize him until in his rage he kills one of their number, when, at the command of Dropshot Bluff, no doubt, he is hanged in this terrible pit. I don’t regret having thrown Cali- fornia Charley down here. J wish I could send the balance after him.” Keen Kennard was notabsolutely certain that the person suspended in the pit was Gilbert; but the story of the killing told by California Char- ley led him to believe that it was. He stood a few moments longer in the dark- nee of the cabin, and then stooped and grasped the rope. 3 By the eternal! if it is Gilbert, I will know it,” he cried. ‘‘If the rope encircles his neck, he is dead, of course; then I will make the men of Red Eve face their victim before I leave.” Keen Kennard was a Hercules in strength, and bracing himself as firmly as he could, he pulled away with all his might hand over hand, and soon found that he was raising the rope inch by inch. mh | get to him finally,” panted the persever- ing gold detective, as he tugged away without a moment’s rest. ‘‘ This is the first hanged man I ever pulled up; I’ve cut ’em down before.” Slowly through the darkness rose the person at the end of the rope. The man from Shasta did not relax his efforts until he lifted the object clear of the trap and laid it upon the solid floor near the edge. ** At last!” he exclaimed, ecu ‘““T sel- dem fail to accomplish what I undertake, and having pulled Red Eye’s victim out of his (tomb, Pll take a look at him.” The mountain detective stooped and struck another match; then holding it over the pinion- ed body he had drawn out of the pit, he gazed down into the face. ‘Heavens! Gilbert—as I expected!” part- ed his lips in accents of undisguised horror, while his eyes suddenly flashed. ‘‘ For this in- fernal work somebody will have to suffer before merning. I didn’t promise Queen Moro that I wouldn’t kill anybody when I left Sacramento at her bidding. My oath was to find Gilbert and the lost Ophir. I’ve found the boy; the mine will come after awhile.” Keen Kennard’s lips compressed while he looked at the youth lying on the board before him. The detective was thinking vengeance. All at onee he observed that the rope did not encircle Gilbert’s neck, but that it passed around his body and was drawn up under his arms. ‘‘Maybe the boy ain’t dead!” he suddenly eried, and his hand flew to the youth’s pulse. ** Life, by Jupiter!” he cried. ‘‘I will yet hear the secret of Ophir from your lips, Gilbert, did choke me in the trail. But you were mad —mmt lt, me‘ It seemed almost incredible that his adventure should be carried so far without discovery yet such appeared to be the case for the stars were shining over quiet Red Eye and his keen eyes did not see a single figure. The fourth cabin with the limited space be- tween trap and wall was no place to bring about the restoration of Gilbert. That had to be ac- complished elsewhere. Keen Kennard went back and lifted the youth , from the floor. ‘*T'll bring him back to life among the moun- tains,” he said, ‘‘ and there we will debate what todo. lam pretty sure that Red Eye will hear from us for this infernal suspension in the shaft. Maybe [ll give Gilbert a revolver and tell him to come back here and use it.” The man lying limp and inanimate in the arms of the mountain detective was no mean burden, but Kennard reached the dark shadows of the cabins in safety. Step by step with every sense on the alert he moved toward the mountain saying to himself with a smile: ‘“*T can’t run with this load. If discovered, I've got to drop it and shoot my way clear to my horse!” hese words were uttered with that cool de- termination characteristic of the Shasta sport and his look gave them stern emphasis. He passed the first cabin without accident, but the fates seemed at war with the cool head, ‘Halt and drop yer load!” suddenly rung out: a voice, and the next instant the door of the second shanty was flung wide and three men leaped out. he Shasta Sleuth complied with a part of the command. He lowered Gilbert to the ground, but deliberately took position over him and whipped out two revolvers in the twinkling of an eye, “We need no introduction,” he said to the trio who had recoiled at his sudden action. ‘*The man who lifts a hand or advances a step will pass the portals of eternity !” ‘* By Jove! he’s got ther boy!” said one, and then he raised his voice in a wild yell which he supplemented with the cry of, ‘‘ Red Eye ter ther rescue!” The shout penetrating the camp in every di- rection, produced the effect intended. Men came forward singly and in pairs until, in the light of several lamps, the man from Shasta stood at bay over the body of Gilbert Golden, the keeper of the gold secret. If California Charley had recognized him, he seemed to fare better with the men who now confronted him. They leaned forward with in- tense curiosity traceable on their faces and stared at Keen Kennard asif he were a citizen of the lower regions. Erect, and directly over Gilbert, stood this: cool hunter, with a revolver clutched in each hand, and with his eyes fastened on the crowd, “We don’t know yer, but thet makes no dif- ference,” said one. ‘* You hev entered Red Eye an’ stolen ther poung galoot who shot Lightnin” - Lige. Thet’s enou Tam Dropshot Bluff. L am ther alcalde of Red Eye Bar,” Kennard had already seen the boss of the mountain camp, and the eyes of the two mem met when the big alcalde finished. ‘*Ther boy at yer feet Sere. ter ther aven- ers ov Rec hy Dropshot Bluff went on. ‘Our law isa life fora life. It ismountain law, as yer know. Stand back an’ let us retake ther young shooter, or—” ‘Or what, gentlemen?” asked the detective, with a faint smile. ‘You ought ter know, with ther lay-out be- fore yer!” cried the alcalde, ‘ Ye’r’ no fresh from ther cities. Stan’ back an’ give us our own!” ‘* Not to-night; some other eve,” was the cool answer, and then the detective resumed with biting sternness: ‘‘Gentlemen, where I am best known I am called Keen Kennard, and the man who lifts a hand will drop dead in his tracks. Business is business. I don’t intend to toss this boy back into your tiger claws!” CHAPTER XXII. “ON THER MEND.” Ir would be needless to state that the effect of the gold detective’s words were electrical. This man with the black beard, Keen Ken- nard, of Shasta? The pards of Red Eye showed their astonish. ment in their looks, and Dropshot Bluff was no less amazed than his companions. The revolvers of the cool man from the North grinned in their faces, and the bronze fingers at the triggers were ready to carry out his sternly- spoken threat. **T don’t want blood, gentlemen,” went on Kennard, with a cutting emphasis on the last word. ‘' Don’t force me to shed it. I want this man, though,” and he threw a swift glance to the body at his feet. ‘* Yes, I lifted him from the depths of cabin number four. it.” ‘He shot Lightnin’ Lige,” growled half a dozen men in chorus. ‘* Not until he had been provoked to shed It was the | and we will be pards after all even though you _ work of devils that lowered him into the = = _. >= / ad wor >. . Comigbooks: ee ee a a