Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 367 — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

— EEE tke fae 2 aed, el — 7 ‘A Royal Flush. oi Shoulder to shoulder stood Dan Brown and Sol Scott, barring the way to the rock chamber where lay their dear ones, bound and helpless, shuddering with fear—not for themselves, but for the husbands whom they knew must con- quer or die in this desperate struggle. Shoulder to shoulder, with arms extended and streams of fire and lead issuing from two brace of the deadliest pistols in all the cattle country! Each shot aimed to kill. Not a trigger pulled wildly. Every stroke delivered as though on it alone depended the result of that final hand in the Big Game of Freeze-out opened by Aces-and. With lead whistling and humming around them, glancing, spattering from the rough rocks behind and at either hand, stinging them smart- ly as they rebounded, sufficient to drive less cool hands into a belief that they were attacked in the rear. With men more nearly resembling demons, pressing upon them, cursing, howling, gnashing their teeth in wildest rage, in most savage lust for revenge; still shoulder to shoul- der, and with nerves as cool and steady as though this was but a harmless mock-battle for the amusement of idle spectators before the scenes. And then, shouting each according to his own culiar humor, the remaining three of the oyal Flush burst through the narrow passage leading from the outer world. ‘‘A straight flush against the world!” cried Nor’ West Nick, as he struck right and left with his clubbed pistols, afraid to use lead until he could more perfectly make out the shapes of his comrades. ‘“’Tain’t wimmen nur yit little babes you critters is buckin’ ag’in’ this deal, durn ye!” snarled Enoch Dodge, as his left hand drove a long knife fairly through the body of the first foeman he could reach. Not a word uttered Turk Elder after that first wild roar. He seemed to forget that he had weapons other than those furnished him by nature, for as he plunged into the midst of the melee he struck out with his huge fists, knocking strong men endlong with as much seeming ease as though they were but bundles of straw. All this almost simultaneously. Barely a score of seconds had elapsed since the first shot fired by Dan Brown when the trio plunged into the smoke-Tlled chamber. Not more than as MANY moments more could pass before the end had come and the victory was won. Thirteen men at the outset. One minute of hat hot work, and not a single member of the baker’s dozen remained upon his feet. All down; some dead, others dying, not one left who could wield weapon to ye or invite death in preference to the impending rope! And then, scarce waiting to see that the vic- tory was insured, the ‘‘ Big Game” fairly won, Dan Brown and Sol Scott rushed back through the narrow passage to where their dear wives lay bound, praying for their victory, for their safety as well! And it was not until their keen knives cut those bonds, until their strong arms raised the rescued to their feet, until they stood bosom to bosom, the women sobbing, the men whispering glad tidings through their kisses and caresses, relieving their last maternal fears; not until then did either Dan Brown or Sol Scott know that they had failed to pass unscathed through that fiery ordeal. Nor even then, but for the love-sharpened eyes of their wives. ‘‘Tt is nothing, dear,” laughed Dan Brown, smothering the cry of apprehension which rose to the lips of Rachel as she saw the red blood flowing from his face, his breast. ‘‘ And you, brother— Ha!” —* He saw Sol Scott turning pale, and beginning to sway unsteadily as May Scott clung to bim seeking to lend him support. He saw ther tide bubbling from his broad chest, and leapin forward, he was just in time to save his frien from falling headlong. Satisfied that the two detectives would prefer to be alone with their rescued ones for a time, neither of the trio followed them, but gave the few moments to making sure that none of the outlaws had power sufficient to give them further trouble. Those who were only stunned or disabled, were disarmed and drawn aside from the dead. Then Enoch Dodge passed out to the entrance, to make sure none of the enemy were plotting mischief from that quarter. He had no more than passed his head and long neck through the leafy screen before that column of red balls caught his eye and drew a sharp ex- clamation from his lips, ‘‘What now, pard?” cried Nor’ West Nick, rushing to his side with weapons in readiness for further hot work, should such be before them. “Took thar!” muttered Enoch Dodge, point- ing to the red balls of light, the top ones begin- ning to sway to one side as they struck a cur- rent of air. ‘Our signals, sent up by some o’ the p’izen imps!” ct “Not from any who were inside,” quickly an- swered Nor’ West Nick, his huge mustaches curling and writhing with excitement, ‘‘Most likely the critter Tim Warden said ‘Was posted to send ’em up fer Johnny’s Infant,” i) ' muttered Enoch Dodge, a low, peculiar laugh parting his thin lips. ‘* The signal o’ deat pard! An’ ef the big critter cain’t see it, I reckon they’s “vs ou the lookout that kin!” Nor’ West Nick started with something sus- piciously like an oath. ‘** You don’t mean—” ‘* Ef I don’t ['m a liar!” chuckled Dodge, his gray eyes snapping. ‘‘Johnny-jump-up’ll git cured o’ his nettlin’ in a heap bigger hurry then ever I hed any idee! He will, sure’s you’re a foot high!” ‘The old boy be good to him!” devoutly ejaculated Nor’ West Nick as he partially turn- ed his head and added: ‘‘ Turk, you dwarf! Why don’t you say something? hy don’t— A faint sound came to his ears, and wheeling, he rushed back into the cavern to see the ex- pugilist leaning against the rock wall, one hand pressed tightly to his side, his tace ghastly white, but with a smile on his honest lips. ‘* Got it, pard! Got it—right whar—TI live!” An hour later Enoch Dodge was mounted and riding at breakneck speed toward the distant ranch of Sol Scott, to meet the men who he knew were even then hastening toward the spot from whence those red balls had ascended. He met them little more than half-way. He sent two of the cowboys off in quest of medical aid, then more leisurely retraced his steps with the remainder of the party. Rapidly their tongues wagged, though Enoch Dodge had to do by far the most of the talking. For the others, a few sentences disposed of all that would interest the patient reader who has followed us this far. Though he could not have suspected such would Fe the case, Aces-and sealed the death- warrant of his only brother when he gave his man orders to send up those glowing balls of smoke. That, it may be remembered, was the signal agreed upon by the Royal Flush before taking the trail, that the information given them by Johnny-jump-up was false. And as soon as the many keen eyes on the lookout caught sight of the rising globes, that groaning, moaning, half-crazed wretch was dragged to the tree before the ruined Single Pot Ranch and hanged. As for the story Enoch Dodge had to repeat, much that he said has already been spread be- fore the reader. Of the rest, a brief glance will be sufficient. Sol Scott and Turk Elder were severel wounded, It might be even mortally, thoug | tough old Enoch would not admit as much. They’ll pull through,” he said, doggedly. ‘** They’re too clean white to go under at the say-so of any sech dirty whelps as them !” And in the end he was justified, though for many long weeks Sol Scott hovered on the very verge of the grave, only kept from filling one by the tender care and Sonn aaey love shown by his wife and the wife of his brother detective. And—who knows?—perhaps the love of the re- mainder of “THE ROYAL FLUSH” helped him to foil grim death. As for Turk Elder, he was afoot long before his loved partner and master, as he would per- sist in calling Sol Scott. Perhaps, too, he might have fared worse only for his dog-like love. He | thought only of Sol Scott, and wanted to be up and doing for him. Tim Warden was set at liberty, as promised, but with a stern warning that he had better seek out healthier quarters. He lost no time in acting on that advice, and was never more seen or hea:d of by the detectives. Fred Ducrow, with the kidnappers who sur- vived that brief, hurricane fight in the cavern stood trial ona score of charges, either one of which was quite sufficient to insure him a speedy passage ‘‘ over the range” had sentence been carried out according to law. Tt was not, but the substitute furnished by a crowd of men with turned coats and blackened faces proved quite as effective. ‘Committed suicide by hanging!” was the grim verdict rendered by the only jury that viewed them—composed for the most part of men whose general build, voices, manners, all might have found a counterpart in the mob that broke open the prison doors and dragged the evil wretches to their doom! And THE ROYAL FLUSH? It still exists, though not as such, unless events should occur to render such a reunion necessary. Nor’ West Nick returned to Rocky Bar, to look after his ‘‘ Jealous Girl.” Turk Elder resigned his position as detective, and settled down as overseer for Sol Scott, who still runs his ranch. Enoch Dodge, restless, roving soul! could not remain long absent from his pet town, Grenada. But before he shook hands with his mates in that desperate game for heavy stakes, he said: ‘* When you’ve got any more fun sech as these on han’s, you don’t want to leave out the ole man! He ain’t quite so spry nur so soople as he use to was, but they ain’t a young colt in the hull range as kin ‘joy the fun any better’n he kin, now that’s so !” LL LE SSS Sse: Dan Brown quickly rebuilt his ranch, and set- tled down to enjoy a much needed rest. He had nobly earned it, and that at the cost of almost breaking down his magnificent constitution. But he quickly recuperated, and what with teasing Rachel with her elopement, teaching Willie to shoot straighter, learning Cherry to ride and throw a miniature lasso, and—but why continue? Dan Brown was out of harness for the time being. He was at home, with wife and chil- dren, loving and loved. His brother pard was within easy reach. He had plenty—all the heart could wish for. a who shall say he did not fairly deserve it all? THE END. 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