Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 367 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

of the first rude building was placed in position; an agreeable break in the grassy waste even while in the hands of its original owner, who regarded it only as a means of putting money into his pocket to be spent over the bars and gaming-tables of ‘‘ civilization ;” a model ranch when ‘* Thoroughbred Wheeler ” rechristened it after the last hand in that game of ‘‘ draw,” to which reference is still occasionally made by the ‘‘ profession” as a rare example of nerve; but it remained for Dan Brown of Denver to rfect the scene until, on this beautiful fall ay, its equal could not be found in all the list of cattle ranches and stock farms, taking nat- ural and artificial beauties into consideration, Those who knew Dan Brown only as a detec- tive opened their eyes widely in surprise at this new move on his part. It was difficult to think of him as a man of business at all, and utterly impossible to picture h'm as a cattle grower, . “fa thousand miles from anywhere!” They ho it was only a passing whim on his part, and that he would soon grow tired of the life; but when a man married and had a young fam- ily growing up about him, such symptoms were disagreeably suspicious, and the Rocky Mount- ain Detective Association would soon have to look for a successor to their famous pet sleuth- hound. So predicted those who had followed the pro- fessional career of Dan Brown with the closest intetest, from the affair with ‘‘ Captain Moon- shine,” at Grenada, to his desperate fight for life and honor at Rocky Bar; and there was good foundation for their regrets. Though no whit the less in love with his peril- ous profession, Dan Brown began to realize more clearly the claims of his own family, and when he bought the Single Pot Ranch, it was with a half formed intention of doffing his harness for good and all; but it was not to be. For one year he kept his unspoken resolution, finding a rare delight in training his eldest child, a manly little lad, and in beautifying their sur- roundings, ably seconded in both by his wife, Rachel. The place was rechristened, but only the occupants called it ‘‘ Fairview.” To the more prosaic stockmen round about it remained Single Pot Ranch. At the end of that year of peace, quietude and happiness such as the detective had never known before, came a call which Dan Brown of Denver could not refuse, and once more he took the trail of sin and rascality ; a trail that began far away f from Fairview, only to twistand turn and writhe » like a wounded snake, until it flung a poisonous ? coil about the hapoy home in the vast range, bringing death and desolation in its wake. On this pleasant October afternoon, three horsemen drew rein on a slight rise which had until then hidden Fairview from their eyes, and during that brief pause the remarks which open our tale were uttered, The first speaker was a cross between an East- ern dude and a Western dandy, so far as out- ward peng go. He was barely up to the medium hight, and his figure was slenderly built, but his neatly fitting garments revealed a per- fection of symmetry such as few of the pets of fashion from the sunrise can boast. An experi- enced observer would have aa! y set him down as one of those ‘‘ devils boiled down,” who are more to be feared than his brethren of larger mold, just as the compact rattler is more vicious than the huge bull-snake. | Fine black broadcloth trowsers were met at |the knee by riding boots of morocco and patent- leather. belt of silk webbing encircled his round, trim waist, supporting a brace of apay§ handled revolvers and silver-hafted knife. A lawn tennis shirt of the finest merino, laced with a blue silk cord. A broad-brimmed hatof fawn- colored felt was pinned up in front with a gold and enameled pin, representing a large purple and yellow pansy, while another representation of the same flower, with a Eres leaf and spray, ‘was secured above his heart. is complexion was wonderfully clear and = of blended ‘‘ milk and roses,” more befit- | g a ball-room belle than a man of the border. _ His features were feminine in their regularity, and when in repose more nearly resembled those of an angel than fiend. His face bore no beard, nor signs of ever having any, but his long, curl- ing locks of hair, soft gold in color, falling about his shoulders, more than made amends, Such was the outward semblance of John Sand, or, as he was far more widely known from his favorite flower, ‘“‘ Johnny-jump-up.” The second speaker was a startling contrast to the man described, in almost every particu- lar. In bulk he would more than have made two of Johnny-jump-up, for he was nearly seven feet high, and though carrying little superfluous flesh, would pull down the scales at nearly two and one half hundred weight. Like most over- grown men, he was slow and sluggish in his movements, and his broad countenance wore a dull, heavy expression, like one half asleep. Just now it was lighted up with a covetous glow as his sleepy black eyes roved over the prospect. He was roughly dressed in flannel shirt, can- vas trowsers, cowhide boots aud coarse felt hat. The weapons at his waist, however, were of the finest make and finish, clean and kept in perfect order, was Darius Throop, better known as This ** Johnny’s Infant.” The third member of the party, though evi- dently the leader and head one, was the least conspicuous of the lot, being of average hight, neither handsome nor ugly in face, plain of arb, his hair and beard close clipped. His ace was hard and expressionless, even as he spoke, though his dark eyes flashed with an evil light and his tones were expressive of intensest hatred. It was a face that had stood its owner in good stead many and many a time when stakes were large and betting ran high over the painted papers; the face of a practiced gambler, and one that told no tales, let him bet on a sure hand or bluff on a broken flush, A natural-born gamester was Asa Sand, or, as his name came to be transformed, in the parlance of his fellow gamblers, ‘‘ Aces-and.” ‘** Curse him it is, with all my heart!” lightly laughed Johnny-jump-up, in response to his elder brother. ‘*‘ But curses don’t go, or Dan Brown would have been sunk ten thousand fathoms deep in the lowest pit of the foul fiend’s domin- pe Jong before he crossed our line of play.’ ‘*So much the worse for him, for then there would have been only himself to ,suffer, while hnow— a **'We may be the ones to go broke, if we stop much longer to look over the board,” interposed Johnny-jump-up, yam his golden brows arching as he gazed steadily toward the line of corrals to the rear and left of the house, from the position they then occupied. ‘‘ There are busy eyes over yonder, and it wouldn’t be sro hae to awaken suspicion before we make our first lead.” A glance showed Aces-and the meaning con- cealed in this speech. At one of the corrals a footman was watching them, his curiosity no doubt awakened by the sight of the trio of horse- men. If friends, they would hardly be recon- noitering the ranch before approaching. ‘* Right enough, Johnny,” muttered Aces-and, putting his horse in forward motion as he ut- tered the words. ‘‘ Wemust get in our pretty work before any of the watchdogs can suspect mischief, or there'll be trouble. Dan Brown isn’t fool enough to leave his property in charge of cowards or skulkers.” ‘* And that reminds me,” smiled Johnny-jump- up, as he deftly removed the pansy from his hat and his breast, stowing them carefully away. ‘* Some of the rascals may have heard of Johnny- jump-up, and for a blind Ill Tore my name in my pocket. You pull out, and take care for nothing but the run of the cards. Baby and Ill bluff off any gray who tries to chip in before the game is flung open to all.” Aces-and seemed to be a man of action rather than words, for he rode steadily onward without comment or reply, heading direct for the now visible front door of the ranch. A moment later they one and all caught a glimpse of a wo- man’s figure indistinctly outlined against the darker background. ** Looking to see if it isn’t her sainted husband coming home for a hug and a kiss,” softly laugh- ed Johnny-jump-up. ‘Play ’em straight, old man, or the dainty critter’ll be too mad to even look at your hand. These grass-widows are mighty bad medicine, anyhow!” ‘Gray comin!” muttered Johnny’s Infant, warningly, as he caught sight of a cowboy com- ing around the corner of the house, evidently watching them closely if not suspiciously. ‘*Too late to hinder, but keep an eye on the fellow, Johnny,” said Aces-and in a lilke enarded tone,. ** You lnow the game. liay is straight, if possible. But we've got to win!” urther speech, even in such guarded tones would have been dangerous, and Johnny-jump- up, leaving his brother to ride direct for the door of the ranch, veered just a trifle to con- front the cowboy, saluting him with an easy, off-hand gesture, which courtesy was acknow- ledged by a short, dubious nod as those keen, wary eyes rapidly summed him him up from head to foot. ‘Single Pot Ranch, of course?” Johnny-jump- up uttered as he drew rein, brushing one hand across his brow as if to remove the perspira- tion born of long and hard riding. ‘Run by Dan Brown?’ The cowboy nodded assent to both pre si- tions, though there was a slightly troubled ex- pression on his honest face as though feeling far from certain that all was right. Johnny-jump- up saw and read this look aright, adding with a feigned breath of relief: ‘*That’s cheerful, anyhow! You do have the biggest bunch of emptiness between anywhere and some place that I ever saw! Seemed like the trail was made of india-rubber, with the Old Boy tugging at this end of it, all the harder the faster we pressed along it!” ‘*Whar mought ye come from, then?” asked the cowboy, rubbing the tip of his sunburned nose with a perplexed air, ‘‘Right from Dan Brown of Denver, with a message to your mistress, my good fellow,” was the easy response as Johnny-jump-up alighted, his example being promptly followed by the giant. ‘*And a hard ride it has been for both man and beast, If you will kindly walk our nor . them, Pll remember you in my will.’ It was so easily said, so’ deftly acted, that a wiser man than the rude cowboy might have nags back and forth for a bit, before watering fallen into the trap, and without further thought of evil, he took the two horses by the rein and moved with the rascals toward the door of the ranch, where Aces-and had likewise dismounted. Johnny-jump-up took the reins from the hand of his brother, turning the third animal over to the cowboy with: ‘‘Feed and water them, after cooling, will you? With the lady’s permission, of course,” and he smiled winningly as he glanced, with a low bow into the face of Mrs. Rachel Brown. A nod from her set the cowboy wholly at ease, and he moved off toward the nearest cor- ral with the three animals, little dreaming in what bad company he left the mistress whom, in common with al] the men employed at Fairview, he fairly adored. ‘*Be pleased to enter, gentlemen,” said Mrs. Brown, in a musical if slightly agitated voice. ** Any friend of my husband has a sacred claim on me and mine.” She drew back from the door, stooping to pick up a little girl whose feet were Mb far from cer- tain means of locomotion, while one of her hands was clasped by a gallant little lad, whose big blue eyes gravely and steadily regarded the strangers. She led the way into what might be called a parlor, if swch an anomaly could have been found in the heart of the cattle ranges, and mo- tioning the strangers to be seated, still holding the little girl in her arms, she said, her voice just a trifle shaken: **’You have a message for me? A letter, per. pg A ces-and coughed softly behind his hand, casting a half-reproachful glance toward the now grave and decorous face of Johnny-jump-up. Rachel Brown intercepted that glance, and her heart sunk lower than ever. From the very first she had felt a chill as of impending evil or danger, despite the smooth address of Asa Sand. Brave, strong-nerved, she had no thought of versonal danger. All her fears were for her busband, now so long absent from her and the children. ‘You have a message?” she persisted, steady- ing her voice by a powerful effort of will, trying to smile as she spoke. ‘* Pardon my impatience, please, but I caught the words this gentleman spoke to Munson, and—these are his children, and they are so anxious to hear from pape, you see,” with a forced laugh that showed how un- easy she was growing. ‘*T’m papa’s little soldier, and I know how to shoot a gun!” boldly uttered Willie Brown. ‘“‘Bang-bang!” exploded little Cherry, then hiding her rosy face in her mother’s bosom with infantile bashfulness. Rachel kissed the curly head, but her wistful eyes were fixed on the face of Asa Sand, longing yet fearing to have him speak. ‘* Well, I don’t know as there can be any mis- take,” slowly uttered the arch-plotter. his tones as grave as his well-trained face. ‘‘ This 1s the Single Pot ranch?” ‘* It was until we altered the title to Fairview.” ‘‘Owned by Dan Brown, of Denver?” **T am his wife, and these are his children, sir.” ‘Look at the youngster,” quietly interposed Johnny-jump-up. ‘* His face talks plain enough tome, There’s no mistake this time.” ‘**' Worse luck!” muttered the other, with a gloomy frown that still further chilled the blood of the wife and mother. “I could wish I'd never laid eyes on that face, or the one so like it!” Pale and composed, forcing her emotions under control, Rachel Brown removed the baby’s arms from her neck, placing the child on the floor in the further corner, bidding Willie amuse her; then she returned and confronted Aces-and, her voice hard and steady: ‘Sir, you have said too much not to say Do you re | me a message from my husband? Where is he, and when did you leave him? What was he doing? Man! if you have a single gleam of pity or mercy in your heart, do not keep mein this horrible suspense any longer !” rave and sober sounded the voice of the gambler as he rose to his feet and faced the poor woman. So unlike his usual self that Johnny's Infant turned his face aside to smother a grin of delighted amazemeént,. ‘Tf I have hesitated, madam, it has been for your own sake, and with a vague hope that, after all, despite all, I might have made a mis- take. I am not yet thoroughly convinced, though, as my mate mentioned, there is a truly remarkable resemblance between the face of that lad, and that of the man for whose sake we have taken this long trip.” ‘* Willie is the perfect picture of his father, so our friends say,” uttered Rachel Brown, one hand pressed tightly over her heart. ‘‘Tam sorry to hear it,” was the grave re- sponse. “Why so? What cause have you for being sorry? You said you came from my husband, bearing a message—why do you not deliver 1t? Do you want to drive me raving mad?” 0)(0\(0)