Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 367 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

in those blood- of yieldin on the point of of pleading or si they seem shot eyes, thoug | starting from their sockets as the horrible tor- ture grew older. Enoch Dodge was no longer smiling. wore a gray, deadly look, his eyes were riveted |! Enoch Dodge, “ up. His jaws were | to hear most, you've hed all the fun you'll ever on those of Johnny-jum tightly clinched and his hands closed until the tough skin almost opened across the knuckles. He had risked all on this device. If it should fail in producing the desired effect? If the grit of the little desperado should, after all, prove all he had boasted? If he should sink and still refuse to utter the words that might carry life and liberty to those dear ones? The same doubts and fears haunted Brown and Scott as they stood a little apart, awaiting the result. Though purely mental, yet their torture was almost as intense as that undergone by Johnny-jump-up. At a sign from Enoch Dodge, Top Dancer ceased his work. ‘*Once more, Johnny, I ax you to squeal. Ef ou won’t, then we'll git down to solid work, thout any more foolin’ ’round the edges!” Nota word, not a motion; only that savage glare in the bloodshot eyes. And Enoch Dodge said no more, for he knew that that wild spirit was not yet shaken, much less broken! So he thought, as he motioned for Top Dancer to resume. But as the nettles touched that swollen body again, a_hoarse, horrible screech came from the lips of Johnny-jump-up, and _ his eyes closed in as death! Dan Brown leaped forward and took one look, then gasped faintly: ‘‘He’s dead! Dead, and taken the secret with him! God pity them ” CHAPTER XV. THE GAMBLER’S LAST BLUFF. ‘“DEAD be blamed, an’ yit he ain’t!” cried Enoch Dodge in a voice that formed a startling contrast to that of the Denver detective. The pizen critter is jist comin’ back to life an’ his sober senses ag’in, I tell ye!” Unceremoniously he pushed Dan Brown to one side and stared fixedly into that livid, blotch- ed countenance, as though seeking confirmation of his impetuous speech. But it was not for that reason. To do him simple justice, Enoch Dodge had never seriously doubted the efficacy of his plan, though, for single second a J samy 8 ps AS » yielded with that frightful groan, his blood chilled and his heart seemed to cease its work. A single glance showed him that Johnny- jump-up was still living, though he kad lost his consciousness under the terrible strain and still more terrible ‘orments. And asa low, gratified laugh parted his thin lips, Enoch Dodge began untying one of the tightly-drawn ropes, a sig- nificant nod setting Nick and Turk at work upon the others, “’Tain’t dead, pards,” chuckled the grim master of ceremonies, with a_ self-conscious glance toward the pale-faced detectives, ‘It’s a case o’ too much silence. Ef the critter hedn’t bin so durned contrary, he could ’a’ held out longer. But he wouldn’t nyther squeal in the tune we axed, nur yitin hisown way. He bot- tled up his cusses an’ blackguardin’ ontel he was chuck full to the nozzle, an’ when the pressure still kep’ packin’ it in tighter, somethin’ hed to give way.” , Dan Brown and Sol Scott interchanged glances of wondering doubt and renewing hope, mingled together. They had perfect confidence in the keen wit and cool judgment of their old friend, as a general thing, but with so much at stake, they could not be so sanguine, The secret they were running so much risk to learn was still locked in behind the blood-tinged teeth of the little des- rado. If not dead, would he ever speak? ould he give them the key by means of which they might even yet save their loved ones? Or would he pass down to the grave hugging his re- venge tight to his tortured Sonorat Enoch Dodge lowered Johnny-jump-up to the ground, though the ropes still remained within the irons, ready to repeat the spread-eagling ata second’s warning. ‘It’s mainly fer show, though,” grimly chuckled the old detective. ‘* I reckon the pizen critter hes got all he kin chaw, this fu’st trip. mi be afraid to bet a cookie onto it, any- ow. ‘Tf not, there’s still virtue left in these glori- ous darlings!” uttered Top Dancer, in his ecstas of delight actually touching his lips to the Seach of nettles which he still held. ‘‘ ’ve cursed them up hill and down more than once in the past, but Ill never see another without blessing it clear down to the bottom of my heart!” ‘‘He won’t want any more, Dancer,” was the calmer reply, as the veteran keenly watched his victim. ‘‘ He held on ontel natur’ was clean done up an’ he couldn’t hold in anylonger. The poor idjit never once thunk how the stings an’ smart- in’ an’ burnin’ an’ hell-fire would grow wuss an’ wuss with each minnit fer many a long hour to come! He never thunk o’ all this, or mebbe he’d ’a’ showed more sense!” ‘¢Poor devil!” muttered Top Dancer with a Hisface | back to itchy-land, old man, eed dc Srna es’ sickly smile. ‘‘If I could only be appointed his nurse! I think it would cure me all up if lL could sit beside him and soothe his torments!” ‘* It depends on what he says when he comes > quietly observed f he sings the tune we want git out o’ his hide while I’m runnin’ things. Ef not—ef he’s durn idjit enough fer to stick it out —waal, we'll see when the time comes,” He broke off abruptly, for he noted signs of returning consciousness in tho naked desperado, and bent over him, eager to catch his first signs, to extort the longed-for confession before John- ny-jump-up had time to collect his shaken wits and old hatred. But he had his pains for reward. As the frightfully-rolling eyeballs came to a pause and the light of returning reason filled them, resting upon the thin, wrinkled face bending over him, a torrent of fiercest curses and threats burst from the pee lips. Enoch Dodge drew himself erect, but keeping his keen gray eyes fixed on those of the despera- do. His face was hard set and resolute, and all traces of pity or regrct had vanished with the first oath that came hissing through the teeth of the frantic prisoner. Not a word or motion until Johnny-jump-up ceased for lack of breath and the necessity of clinching his jaws savagelv to resist the excru- ciating torture of the nettles. Then Enoch Dodge spoke: ‘* Air you ready to sing the little song I axed of ye, Johnny?” ‘* ll die a million deaths first, you cowardly hell-hound!” gasped the desperado, the moment his clinched jaws relaxed, his body quivering and writhing back and forth on the ground in the vain effort to deaden that infernal itching. “Tl die—but not until ’ve murderec you by inches for this devil’s work!” Paler than ever turned the faces of Dan Brown and Sol Scott, for to them it seemed that all was lost; but not a change came over the weather-beaten countenance of the gaunt member of the Royal Flush. One would have taken oath that he had looked for no other an- swer. ‘That’s all a, ge Johnny. I knowed you wouldn’t be tuned up jes’ to the top-notch, yit, but we hed to let go long enough to spit onto our han’s fer a fresh spurt. Ketch holt, lads, an’ spread the little runt out fer the final sea- sonin’, aime f an’ all together—so!” Cheerfully Nor’ West Nick and Turk Elder caught up the ropes assigned them. Silently Dan Brown took the other, though there was little of animation in his face or motions. Luckily his strength was not put severely to the test, for the instant Johnny-jump-up began to feel the strain on his members—as soon as the inflamed skin began to strain and to stretch, re- doubling that intolerable itching—as soon as he realized that his enemies meant to renew the frightful ordeal, worse a thousandfold than that of fire—his shaken nerves gave way entire- ly, and with a choking shriek he begged for mercy! A swift gesture from Enoch Dodge held his mates stationary, with the ropes drawing John- ny-jump-up just clear of the ground. Sharp and pitiless came his voice: ‘* That’s the fu’st note in the song we want to hear, Johnny, but ef it’s the on’y one you've Varnt as yit, so much the wuss fer you! Back you go, fer a lifetime, ef it takes every nettle this side o’ the moon!” ‘“Mercy!” hoarsely gasped the writhing wretch, his words barely articulate so intense was his agony, so swollen his lips and parched his tongue. ‘‘Spare me, devils! Ill confess all you ask!” ‘* They’s a false note a’ready, Johnny,” warn- ingly uttered Enoch Dodge, his gray eyes glit- tering wickedly. ‘‘I don’t reckon your ’ligion hes got more’n skin deep as yit. Reckon we'd better run ye up fer a hour or so—hadn’t we?” ** Pll tell—I yield!” Faint and husky the words, and fearing lest death was coming to rob them of the precious secret, Dan Brown lowered his end, with a com- manding fostaire that caused both Turk Elder and Nor’ West Nick to follow his example. ‘* We'll take your word fer it, Johnny,” said Dodge, making the best of the situation, castin off his rope and permitting the tortured wereion to drop at full length on the cool ground. ‘“ But ef you ain’t letter parfect in your lesson, it won't take long fer to hyste ye up to monkey- heaven ag’in—no it won't, now!” A moan of delicious relief came from the lips of the agonized desperado, as the cool earth touched his inflamed skin. For a moment the exquisite torture ceased, but Enoch Dodge knew that this could not last long, and he sharply motioned his mates to fall back, They obeyed, even Dan Brown retreating un- til ths gaunt member of the Royal Flush was left alone with his victim, ‘‘It’s plain business now, Johnny,” he said, squatting beside the prisoner, his keen gray eyes riveted on those of the other, for he knew that it would be hard to hold him to the point when those infernal pangs returned in full force. ‘‘ You hain’t airnt your freedom as yit, nur ye won’t git it ontel you’ve EEE Ss SSS esses sees o 21 madea clean breast of the hull game. Fu’st, whar is Aces-anc hidin’?” ‘Water! I can’t talk!” gasped the wretch. Enoch Dodge frowned blackly, but held a canteen to the swollen lips, permitting Johnny- “sry ays to drink as much as he chose, ‘‘It tastes mighty good, don’t it? But it works both ways, Johnny. Ef you cut up rusty, it'll lend you stren’th fer to stan’ a hour or two more nettlin’. Which shell it/be? Open *fession, or some more music?” | “Tl tell—tell all ycu want to know,” sullenly | muttered the desperado, his body beginning to twist and writhe artially because he could not help it, but for the momentary relief it gave those parts of his body which came in contact with the ground. ‘‘That sounds hearty, but you don’t want to make any mistake, my fine feller,” wainingly replied Enoch. ‘‘ We hain’t got the time tolcse in the fu’st place, an’ still less patience to waste. Talk straight, «r you'll git another nettle bath, sure!’ ‘“ What do you want to find out?’ muttered Johnny-jump-up, stifling a groan of intense ag- ony. “You know. Whar is Aces-and hiding fer you to come back?” ‘*In the Devil's Hoof Range.” ‘* Lots o’ room fer the answer to kiver, ain’t it, Johnny?” Johnny-jump-up shivered anew. There was worse than threats in that cold, measured tone and be knew that Dodge would not be trifled with. A brief spasm, then he added: ‘* You know where the Winans brothers had their big fight with the Apaches? Where they stood ’em off until—” ’ ‘*I know what you mean,” was the quick in- terposition, asa map of the wild region indicat- ed flashed across the brain of the detective. ‘You will find him there—curse you!” The final words slipped out before Johnny- es te | could check them, but Enoch Dodge aug softly instead of growing hot. The vi- ciousness of the curse satisfied him that thus far the prisoner bad spoken the truth. ‘“Cusses is like chickens, they say, Johnny, an’ the less you hev to do with them in this at- mosphere, the longer you'll be like to live. So, thar is whar Aces-and waits fer his dainty lit- tle brother?” “‘T said so. What more do you want?” ‘‘A heap,” was the cool response. ‘‘ Fu’st, I want to know jes’ what sort o’ signals you crit- ters hes agreed upon fer this game. Ef a out- sider wanted to make Aces-and a call, what sort o’ music must he sing?” ‘‘There is no change. You know the old code.” A dark frown swept across the weather-beat- en face of the veteran at this reply, but his tones were softer than ever as he spoke: ‘* Mebbe you wasn’t payin’ ‘tention to what I said "bout the nettles, Johnny. Mebbe you fer- ot that you ain’t free as yit. Mebbe you'd ale scratch your brains up a little an’ give a straighter answer then them last ones. Don’t you think so, honey?” ‘* I’ve spoken the truth, curse you!” was the sullen response. ‘*‘ Why should we have made any changes? We never once dreamed of any- thing like this! And it wouldn’t have hap- pened if I hadn’t been a fool!” ‘*The Old Boy hes kinder gone back onto ye, ain’t he?” softly laughed Dodge, rubbing hi rough a together in silent satisfaction. ‘‘ He is blushin’ fer shame at the mighty mistake he made, I do reckon! Dut this ain’t business, Johnny, an’ business is our motto jest now. “You've told us whar to find Aces-and, an’ of course you wouldn’t lie, with the smell o’ them nettles still into your nostrils, strong! you say the old signs an’ passwords is left on- changed. Of course Aces-and will hev out men watchin’ for snakes?” ‘Of course. The game is too heavy for him to throw away a chance. He'll play the cards for all they’re worth, and I hope he’ll beat you yet, you bloodhounds!” savagely snarled the prisoner. ‘‘ Nur they ain’t nuthin’ more you kin tell us to help beat the gang out o’ thar prey, is they?” “Tve told you all I can, Now keep your promise!” | ‘* Reckon I will,” and as he uttered the words, Enoch Dodge passed the ee through the chain again. ‘Lively, boys! Johnny-with-the-nose- gay is gittin’ in a hurry fer another taste o’ net- tle soup!” A savage yell broke from the lips of the ras- cal as he felt the ropes begin to draw, and he hoarsely screamed: ‘* Devils! you lied to me! You mean to—” ‘Fetch the truth out o’ your mouth ef it takes a year, Johnny,” sharply interposed the veteran. ‘*T’ve told you all that I—” ‘** An’ the hull on it a passel o’ lies as black as the heart they come from, you treacherous cur !” thundered Dodge, his eyes fairly sending forth flames as he tugged at the rope again. ‘I teld ye what would come of it. I give you frank warnin’. But you wouldn’t hev it so. You tuck me fer a mole-eyed idjit who'd swaller all the guff you could pour out afore me, You > thought to git off easy, an’ yit hev your re- | aa. ¢s) <Gomicnoee