Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 379 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

30 Howling Jonathan. dong afore the sun comes up to show the rest — what a han’ful o’ airnest men kin do when they set out to spread themselves wide open! ** You'll take your men an’ hold the hotel. Don’t let a soul in nur a soul out, without he, ‘she or it kin show up a pass writ by me or Mark Davidson. You want to hold the doors, but not to make any more show o’ what you're cdcin’ then you hey to, Onderstand?” “fine With a painful, gasping moan, Colonel Joel Mallison opened his eyes, for the first time re- | turning to consciousness after falling in that death-like fit as Iceberg Dave flung those cruel words into his face. For a brief space his brain was a blank, his bloodshot eyes roving slowly and aimlessly around the low ceiling, then wandering down the wall at the foot of his bed until—what was that black, grim figure doing there? The benumbing spell was broken, and from that moment the sluggish brain of the specula- tor began to work, qaickening under that curi- | osity, with.which was mixed a trace of fear, that rapidly grew and grew until—with a low, shivering cry, Joel Mallison sought to spring from his bed. Only to make another discovery, His wrists were ironed! A cold, heavy hand closed over his lips Let cy and cut short the wild, hoarse yell of terror that rose in his throat as he made this discovery. Strong hands held him back on the bed until his mad, yet feeble, struggle ceased. The dark figure at the foot of his bed threw back the cloth that had hidden its features,. A lamp was turned up until the small room was flooded! with light, and even his terror-dimmed eyes could not mistake that face for other than ye the one belonging to the Terror from Head- waters! a ** Hollow, kunnel! woke up at last?” came in a cheery tone, and a broad smile lit up that red and homely face. ‘‘ Be durned ef I didn’t begin to think you'd cheated the rope an’ dodged over tf the dark river without waitin’ fer the proper passport! I did so/” “Mercy!” gasped the craven wretch, now that retribution seemed to have fairly overtaken him, . showing himself in his true colors. Nh ‘*Gobs an’ heaps of it, boss!” grinned the Vt red-haired detective, as he leaned over the foot- rail and fixed his eyes steadily upon the livid ! face lying so helplessly back @n the pillow. ‘‘ All Ob basta that’s wanted is to fu’st find out jest how much ‘a4 mercy it?ll take to wipe out the past an’ kiver up your devil-doin’s, To find that out fer a rio suppose you’n me go back a little an’ rake the dust off’m some © your dirty didoes? Ef I git off o’ the straight trail, don’t let your modesty oH prewent you from correctin’ me.. It’s. the dead- ith sure truth we want to git at jest now, boss!” That strong hand was clapped over his lips again as he sought to shout aloud in hopes of bringing aid to save him from that grinning de- ) mon whose eyes seemed to burn a hole through rt his skin wherever they rested for a moment. 5 A cold, snake-like rope was flung across his Dy throat; the two ends were drawn taut by hands ai the owners of which he could not see. The hand ‘was removed, and the Terror spoke on, his tones | as even and calm as though no interruption had it occurred, as though he was engaged in the mild- ia est, most agreeable of conversations. ry Ly “They was a time when Morris Grant was he *most as biga man in New Rush as Kunnel Joel Mallison was in Good Leather, up to to-night. 1 He had a half-interest into the big mine, The Plenty. He could sell out any day fer enough ducats to make a’pendent fortin fer any man that wasn’t a hog, but neither he nur his pardner, Franz Moskau, was willin’ to do that just then. They had a bonanza, so they thought. It would pay better fer to work it thar own selves. An’ bi say 15 the time they swore they would. | ‘* But then they come a change. Morris Grant, iy the more he thought it over, the more he felt that 471 Niet ‘what was a good thing fer two, would be jest double as good a thing fer one, An’ so, ferget- tin’ that ef it hedn’t bin fer Franz Moskau, who furnished the money to find the mine an’ devel- ‘P op it enough to make it wu’th so much, he would | still be a pore, no~count, broken down prospec- iat tor, too poor to pay fer a drink of whisky or to fF buy a single meal, this Morris Grant began to a8 plot an’ plan murder! 18 —— " ia 7 7 OO ‘¢ You kin winch an’ squarm, kunnel, but that’s jest what it was,” coldly added the Howler, as } he wretch on the bed shivered all over and aly shrunk back as heheard those words. ‘‘ You’ve i hed your dance, an’ now you've got to pay the ii 2,,/°--tfiiddiler. nhs te oe ‘Your pardner was too white himself to even Nie dream o’ sech black treachery as filled your ; base heart, an’ he tumbled into the trap you sot fer him without much trouble. An’ then, you sot to work to break him down, to tortur a8 the pore devil ontel he come to the tarms you : ; set afore him—even then lyin’ as only sech ie i whelps as you kin lie fer to gain tha’r bot ends! aoa ‘‘- You only tuck one man into your confidence, but you paid him so well fer his help that he was enough. That man was Ugly Dan Bennison, an’ mR i pe bein’ a nat’ral-born devil, without heart or con- -_, geience, lovin’ evil fer evil’s own sake, you he i couldn’t ‘a’ picked a better tool fer the work ef you hed raked the world over. .“* Nobody see’d Franz Moskau leave New Rush, but when you told ’em he hed tuck a trip back East to visit his ‘lations, you was thought so well of in town that nobody ever thought to ax any questions. An’ then when you come out an’ showed the papers that made over to you the mine fer value received, it was looked on as all right, an’ a lucky bit o’ business fer you. Nobody ever dreamed what horrible tortur’ hed bin brought into play to git the sig- nature of your old pardner. Why should they? Wasn't you a honest man? Hedn’t you bin open an’ frank as day? ‘* But way back thar in the hills was a dark, damp, gloomy hole in the rocks that mought ’a’ told a different tale, ef its wall could only speak human talk! An’ those black walls hev spoken, Morris Grant! They hev give up tha’r secrets at last, an’ sent me to tell you that the day o’ jedgment is come at last!” Jonathan paused abruptly, not because he was through, but with a frightful contortion of fea- tures, Colonel Joel Mallison seemed on the point of giving up the ghost. There were rapid movements and hurried whisperings in the room for a few moments. There was the smell of strong liquors, and there was the taste of brandy in his mouth as Joel Mallison once more opened his eyes, weak but living, growing stronger with the passage of each moment. Once more that snake-like pressure crossed his throat. Once more his accuser leaned on the foot-board, his glowing gaze holding that of the trembling, cowering wretch as with the fabled fascination of the rattlesnake. Once more those cold, measured tones, tearing the vail from the black and criminal past! If his sins had been great, so were his suffer- ings just now. He was broken down by the shock he had received that day in so unexpect- edly meeting Herman Moskau, by the scare which the Howler had given him, followed up so closely by the still greater shock dealt out to him by Iceberg Dave. Alone and uncared-for he had lain in that death-like stupor until awakened to this—to realize that all was indeed lost! That the black past had come to light, and vengeance had claimed him for its own! Truly, Joel Mallison was reaping his just re- ward! ‘‘ Ugly Dan told you that he’d bring the young feller to taw in a monstrous short time, once he got him out whar there wouldn’t be no curious critters to ax what so much row an’ rumpus meant, An’ he didn’t waste his time, nuther. It was a work o’ love to him, though this poor young feller hadn’t never done him no harm, A devil born, cruelty an’ Injun-work come nat’ral to his hand. But he found that it wasn’t so quick a job. He found that Franz Moskau hed a will like iron, a narve sech as not one man In a thousand kin boast of ’thout tellin’ a lie! ‘Her days an’ weeks he kep’ up his devilish work, afeard to crowd too much in one day, lest he beat your game by killin’ the lad instead o’ bendin’ him. An’ as he found how stiddy the lad held out, despite the tortur’ which was enough to drive any man crazy, he come to hate the poor boy like he had done him some turrible injury! An’ so, even when the work was done —when Franz Moskau, broken down in body an’ sperit, neues all the papers you hed prepared fer him, Ugly Dan lied to you when he swore he'd kill the poor boy as soon’s you got out o’ sight. He meant to kill him, but not at a single blow. That would not kill the devilish hatred which he now felt fer Franz Moskau. Only tortur’ could do that! ‘You went back to New Rush, an’ after the right ‘mount o’ talkin’ to pave the way, you showed your. papers as proof o’ your words, You said that your pardner hed come on a gal back home an’ fell in love with her so mighty bad that he would marry her off-hand, thoug she swore she would never hev him onless h2’d agree to settle down with her folks an’ let mines an’ minin’ alone. ‘“‘The only resk you run was in talkin’ too much, but you manidged to steer cl’ar o’ that, an’ sold The Plenty fera pile big enough to fitin well with your say-so that ee was goin’ back East to settle down an’ *joy life. ‘“‘ Better fer you ef you’d done it, kunnel! A man kin hide so much better in a crowded ken- try then he kin out here. You mought ’a’ bin foot-free an’ full o’ deyviltry even yit ef you'd bin content with what you’d stole; but you wanted still more. You wanted to be one 0’ the few mighty rich men in the world, an’ so turned up another trick that hes brought yer to the foot 0’ the gallows! : “You changed your name an’ come here, liv- in’ a lie in more senses than one. You brung a woman an’ sot her up in business as a widder, when she was your wife. Youthought it a high old joke on Good Leather, but that joke has turned onto you, now! ‘By your talks with the widow, the hull truth hes come out, Ef you want to know how, ' thank that cunnin’ passage you hed built from this room to the one she uses. An’ not the least part to this tough-lookin’ little spy!” As he spoke, the boy of all work popped up be- a _————— —— —————_—_w—— ees eS fore the colonel’s eyes, grinned significantly, then dodged out of sight again, ‘* Through that kid we larnt all the secrets o’ Cap’n Clean-up an’ his gang. Thanks to him we tuck Perry Blair, alias Cap’n Clean-up. We hev pinned every man o’ the gang, an’ then we come here to give you a fu’st-class benefit. ‘‘ But Franz Moskau? Was it a ghost_that killed Ugly Dan? Isthem the questions I kin see bubblin’ up in the pretty two eyes of ye, kunnel?” grinned the Howler, evidently hugely enjoying his part in this general unmasking. ‘Listen, kunnel, an’ [ll give you still another look into the pinny-poppy-show !” His gleaming eyes raised and glanced past the head of the bed. And Joel Mallison shivered anew as he could detect a _ stealthy trampling to and fro beyond hisken. He scarcely knew what it was he dreaded, for his brain was all ina whirl, but he felt that afresh and still more terrible shock awaited him. Slowly two dark figures moved within his limited range of vision, pausing near the foot of the bed, where Jonathan was still standing. In one of the forms he recognized Frank Spar- tan, his face pale and hard-set, his dark eyes glittering with stern vengeance, But the other? Its head was covered with a dark cloth that fell over its shoulders, conceal- ing allfrom his view. Under that vail? What was coming? Was it the ghost he had seen so often of late? ‘‘Look straight this way, kunnel,” said the Terror, as his hand touched the black cloth, ‘Tow me to interduce to yea old-time fri’nd an’ pardner, Franz Moskau!” He snatched the cloth off, revealing a pale, thin, deeply lined face—a face that might have belonged to a corpse, only for the wild fire that glowed and gleamed in those deep-sunken eyes, The face of the madman whose steel had cleft the heart of Ugly Dan. But the knife and shears had been at work, clipping and shaving until a ghost of the past indeed stood revealed to the horror-stricken eyes of the criminal, ‘*Franz Moskau!” he gasped, shrinking back, shivering from head to foot with abject terror. CHAPTER XX. “MUSIC HATH CHARMS.” THAT was a night never to be forgotten in the annals of Good Leather. Surprise followed surprise with a rapidity that caused the coolest arn steadiest brain to whirl and become con- fused in the attempt to keep the run of mat- ters in general. Even the cool sport, Iceberg Dave, was taken aback by the cunning job put up on a, sae on ing party by si ay ina Jonathan Hebrew, and for a little space he fairly lost his head. He was playing for the heaviest stake of all his life. He was still unnerved by the fierce strug- gle he had had to keep his mad passions in check while in the presence of widow Merc Watkins. He was constantly hearing the words she uttered, ever rb those glowing looks the intoxicating truth which he believed he had read in the depths of her brown eyes. And thus it came about that he lost control of the mob in losing control of himself, After the first blind rush after the vanished prey, the compact bodies broke op and swept through the town, without a head, since Ice- berg Dave had vanished, looking for Frank Spartan. And as the demoralized mob carried more than one bar by storm, pouring in liquor until their wits oozed out, it came that one after another man was arrested and ironed by the cool-head- ed, iron-nerved detectives under the lead of Mark Davidson. All this was done so quietly and adroitly that not a. soul savethose more immediately concern- ed even suspected what was going on under cover of night, until it was too late to effect either rescue or turn upon the bloodhounds of the law. One by one, until all of the band of Captain Clean-up, save Colonel Joel Mallison and Ice- berg Dave, were taken into custody, placed in the stone-walled cellar beneath My House, where a few of the friends and allies of Frank Spartan guarded them vigilantly. Even widow Mercy Watkins was taken in charge as she attempted escape by way of the secret passage. But somehow she managed to effect an escape, soon after Frank Spartan whispered a few guarded words to the man i whose care she was placed by Howling Jona- than. It was not until nearly day dawn that Ice- berg Dave was discovered by the officers of the law, returning on horseback from his vain search around Good Leather for the man whom he had sworn to slay as the price of the fair widow’s love, ‘ He dismounted at The Mint and entered its doors, only to have the enemy close in behind him, covering him with their pistols and ordcr- ing him to surrender in the name of the law! He leaped back and his hands filled with re- volvers, cocked and in readiness to begin their deadly work. He saw that escape was well-nigh impossible, but his white, stern face showed the detective that it would be no easy task to er, him alive. And cold, stern, Davidson said: \ nicboo (GS *