Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 379 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

=> result, which he felt could be but one thing: death or crippled limbs at the best. Then—the stage lifted upon the right side, ‘spinning along on two wheels, trembling, creak- ing, groaning as though in affright at the utter destruction which seemed inevitable, One moment thus, then—Frank Spartan sunk back with a gasping breath, his eyes closing, his heart beating once more. Steel-nerved as he was called, he would never forget those few ’ brief seconds. Wilder, with a triumphant ring through its recklessness, rose the hideous howling from the box seat as the stage ran easily along the level, which led up to the town of Good Leather. Shrill, piercing, then falling to a lugubrious base, that howl aroused all Good Leather, bring- ing forth old and young alike to solve the mys- tery; for little human was there in the hideous sounds. And drawing himself erect in his seat, squar- ing hisarms after the true professional style, Howling Jonathan urged his foam-covered team along ae level, into town, through the broad street, his keen eyes singling out the main build- ing in sight, the front of which bore the quaint sign oMY HOUSE.” With his team now well in hand, he drew up before the hotel with a flourish, grinning broad- ly at the many curious faces turned toward him, © was in his element, now. The center of ob- -servation, the “ biggest toad in the puddle!” __ ** Hough-ough-ugh-h-oof !” came from his swelling lungs with a suddenness and power that caused more than one to clap hands to ears to deaden' the hideous screech. ‘‘ I’m Howling Jonathan Hebrew, the Terror from Headwaters! ‘Three in one! Shadrach, Meshach and To-bed-we- go, the Hebrew children right out 0’ the glowin’ furnace o’ red hot fire—them’s we-us-an’-comp’- ny! Jest drapped in to see you fera bit. To wake ye up from your slumbers. To rub the cobwebs out o’ youreyes. To show ye howa live man looks when he’s chuck-full o’ fun. To chaw up your old chiefs, an’ sot up a new god fer ye te kneel down an’ worship. Howlin’ Jonathan ’s his name, an’ he’s the Terror from Headwaters!” CHAPTER ITI. TRE WANDERING MINSTREL, ‘Ts that all?” ; ‘*A donkey go-cart, a ole man, an’ a petti- cut—ugh !” In different tones, but each betraying strong contempt mingled with disgust and disappoint: mont, came these muttered ejaculations from a «lense fringe of bushes which overlooked the little noonday camp on the level beside the tiny ‘spring that bubbled up from beneath the moss: covered rock, to form a shallow pool and then ‘creep away silently until hidden among the -grass-sprinkled stones and bowlders. They were rough, shaggy-bearded fellows, ecarrying weapons at their waists, and looking cs though they were both able and willing to make use of the tools, and that without too close a scrutiny into the merits of a cause. And after the one eager glance down at the camp, their gaze turned toward the man who had in- terrupted their social game of cards to lead them all this way to inspect a treasure, A peculiar smile curled his thin lips, and one long forefinger tapped them lightly. A moment later be muttered in guarded tones: “Listen! What is it you hear, stupid ras- cals?” With puzzled looks the two men hent their heads; th on one of them growled, in a surly un- «lertone: } ‘‘ Bf that ole cuss would only hold his hush a aminnit!” ee ‘* Tt’s a cat—ketched by the tail in a steel-trap —an’a powerful sick ole cat, too, I reckon!” &rinned the other fellow. * That’s what I brought you here to see and hear,” added the tall member of the party, showing his teeth in a half-mocking smile. 18 fellows scowled back at him angrily, but “only for a moment, nor did they dare utter a word of what they really felt while those inky- black eyes were fixed upon them, with that smile ‘before their eyes, If Ugly Dan Bennison in- ‘tended this for a joke, a joke it must be. That prefix seemed hardly appropriate as Daniel Bennison stood smiling, his white, even ‘teeth just showing their tips behind his jetty mustache, the ripe red of his lips forming a ‘pleasant contrast. Indeed, few who saw him for the Grst time would have hesitated for a sec- ond look before pronouncing him a remarkably handsome man. : Tall, athletic, perfectly proportioned in limb -and body, his face was a fitting match, his fea- tures being clear-cut and regular, his complex- ion, though tinged with tan. a remarkably pure and clear for a man who had led the life common report assigned to Ugly Dan—the life .of a fire-eater, gambler and hard drinker. Of all the “bad men” who had ever paid ‘Good Leather the compliment of a prolonged visit, Dan Bennison, with Poesy a single ex- ception, was generally set down as the best man to let alone when in his cups. A past master in the arts of handling either pistol or knife, he ‘seemed constantly on the lookout for a chance to Howling Jonathan. —_— — bring one or the other into active use. The slightest excuse was sufficient, and if that shadowy pretense was lacking when be felt par- ticularly ‘*rampageous,” Bennison could carve or perforate the unlucky object of his wrath or malice with just as great gusto. Time and again he had proven his utter reck- lessness and contempt of personal danger, but fully as often he had been known to strike his enemies from behind and without the slightest warning. He might meet a man with a cordial smile, with one hand clasping his in a hearty grip, with words of warmest friendship on his lips, only to drive the steel to his heart or send a bullet through his brain the next moment. It was this utter recklessness, this diabo!ism, that gave him the name of Ugly Dan and ren- dered him such a dreaded character in Good Leather and its neighboring camps. Ugly Dan showed his white teeth as he saw those black looks turn to fawning smiles. Hoe knew his power, and no man could enjoy it more. But just now he had a still more im- portant object in view. ‘* Bah! ye blind-eyed moles!” he laughed, soft- ly, his glittering orbs fixed on the scene below. “That is music fit for the heavenly choir—and yonder is one of the angels!” A touch of exaggeration, but not wholly without foundation in truth, Near the little spring stood a two-wheeled cart, covered with a dingy, weather-worn can- vas tilt. To one side, greedily plucking: up the grass that grew quite rankly along the edges of the tiny stream, was a long-eared, long-haired nn eth evidently the motive power which had brought the cart to this spot. Leaning against one wheel of the cart, was an aged man, his bare head covered with milk- white hair, long and silken, curling slightly as it fell over his shoulders and blended with the patriarchal beard that rippled over his bosom and even touched his lap as he sat playing on a dingy, worn violin. His lids were closed, his head bowed, his thin fingers moving slowly, and there were tears moistening his sunken cheeks as he drew long, wailing sounds from his instrument. No regular tune. More as though the old man was trying to express his inner feelings. And yet, as Ugly Dan muttered, it was music almost fit for the spheres, A little to one side, bending over a small fire made from dead limbs which had fallen from the old, lightning-scarred tree over her head, was a trim, graceful figure, charming despite the plain, coarse garb and humble occupation. A girl, a young woman, rather, who was evidently a daughter or granddaughter to the minstrel. Despite the difference in age, there was a strong resemblance between them, though one was bent and bowed by care and sorrow and years, while the other was lithe and erect, showing health and strength and vitality in every move and action. In the shade of the tree, and warmed by her work, she had cast off the broad-brimmed hat of straw as superfluous, leaving her head un- covered, her rosy face fully exposed to view though she little suspected the proximity of spies. Her hair, thick and luxuriant, done up in twin braids that reached below her waist, after the quaint fashion more often seen in past years than at present, was too light to be called gold- en, too bright and soft and silken for even an enemy to brand itas tow. Her cheeks, plump and smooth, were rosy, their natural color be- ing a little hightened by the heat cast out by the crackling sticks over which she bent, cook- ing dinner for herself and hor father. Her large eyes were bright and eloquent, blue as the sky overhead. Her lips, temptingly arched, were red and moist, parted just sufficient to af- ford a glimpse of the small, even teeth, white as milk, er neck was encircled by a white ’ker- chief, crossed over the bosom and the ends tuck- ed beneath her girdle; but this did not disguise the neatly rounded contour of her shoulders and bosom, Her arms were bare to the elbow, white and rounded, her hands small and shapely, though tanned by exposure to the hot sun. Her dress, of stout woolen, was short enough to display a pair of neatly turned ankles, ending in small feet hidden in stout shoes. ‘* 1t’s fhem you mean, then?’ suddenly uttered one of the men, with a look of surprise toward Ugly Dan. “ Crazy Dutch an’ his gal?” ‘What else?” sharply retorted the fire-eater. ‘** What do you know of them, anyway?” The lesser ruffian shrugged his shoulders slightly. ** Nothin’ much, boss; only that they go traip- sin’ round the kentry huntin’ fer somethin’ they cain’t seem to never find. They must make a pritty good thing of it, too. Ive see’d em play an’ sing ina crowd, when nigh a hatful of dust an’ ducats would pay ’em fer the show.” **They’d ought to be pay enough fer cleanin’ up, down thar, then!” muttered the other fel- low, a covetous light coming into his dull eyes. Ugly Dan laughed softly, but his bright eyes ba fixed on the trim figure bending over the e. ‘It will pay, if you want to make the riffle. Oe eee Those wandering minstrels are usually well fix- ed, no matter how miserably they dress and how eloquently they plead for aid to keep them from starving.” ** We'll bounce them ef you say so, boss!” greedily added the ruffian. His mate was less impulsive, rising higher and peering keenly around as though searching for something more. Ugly Dan noticed this, and muttered sharply: ‘‘What is it, Blister?” ‘* Waal, [ didn’t know,” hesitated the fellow, rubbing his bristling chin. ‘“‘When you see them critters, you gin’ally see ’nother not fur off. They do say Frank Spartan is dead gone on the little gal.’ Dae vicious light leaped into the eyes of Ugly an, “Is that it? High-toned Frank, eh?” Blister nodded assent. ‘** That settles it, then, lucre You two can have the and I'll take the girl for my share of the plunder. High-toned Frank? I wish he was there now—I’d buss the beauty before his very eyes!” Me Ruther you then me, boss!” grinned Blister. Ugly Dan flung out one hand with a careless gesture, but there was something in his voice as he spoke that belied his words. He hated the dashing sport, but he could not scorn him as much as he wished. ‘** He’s nobody’s grandfather, and I’ve got it in for the cuss if we ever meet, Dll make him | yelp like a cur—mind that!” “That settles him, then,” nodded Blister, though there was a peculiar light in his averted eyes that might have brought down on his head a speedy punishment had it been seen by Usly Dan. ‘‘Now fer them critters down yender boss. Is it a real clean-up, or jest fer fun?’ ‘‘ Use your own pleasure about that,” was the prompt nat ‘Tm satisfied to have some fun with the girl, and care nothing for their hoards, supposing they have any. Take or leave, as you choose,” He said no more, but broke cover and strode down the cat leading to the little encamp- ment, ap is hat and smiling brightly as the girl, startled by the sound of a loosened stone, glanced up from the simple meal she was just taking from the fire. ‘Why, Miss Brown! what a delightful sur— excuse me, please,” and Ugly Dan checked him- self with an air of vexed confusion, like one just | discovering his mistake. ‘ Really, I thought I had chanced upon old and tried friends!” At the sound of his voice, the old man ceased playing, and rose to his feet, Though his face was turned toward the speaker, though his full blue Oh were wide open, there was something in both that told he could see nothing, that he was blind. ‘What is it, child? Who comes? He knows you, Amelia?” No, father, a stranger,” was the low, quick response as the girl moved back until the out- stretched hand touched her shoulder. There was a faint accent Bape! tag in both tones that spoke of a land beyond the seas, though e. long residence in America had nearly | obliterated this. ‘‘A stranger, but a friend, my dear sir,” add- | ed Ugly Dan in his softest tones, his bandsome face lit up by a bright, frank-seeming smile that was meant for the daughter alone. ‘I caught a glimpse of your charming daughter, I did not wait to make sure, but—if I am intruding, I will go.” ‘“Itis free country here, my friend: free for you as free for us,” replied the wandering min- strel with a grave dignity that well become his snowy locks end patriarchal appearance, ‘ Be welcome, sir, to what we can give. Amelia, child, the meal is ready to eat—not?” ‘Thanks, but we have already eaten,” quick- ly uttered Ugly Dan, as he caught a shade of doubt flitting over the rosy face, ‘‘ So heartily, too; I am sorry. It is not often one in these wilds has an opportunity to taste meat dressed by such fair hands,” He bowed to Amelia, hoping he had made a point, but her downcast eyes refused to appro- priate the compliment, and the old man’s voice i he a little harder and more cold as he spoke in reply: K It is compliments you speak, sir. That is not good for poor girls. You will excuse if I say, keep them by yourself? It is not angry that I am, at all, only that is the law I makes when we grow poor and leave our old home far behind, looking for—for our poor bey!” Ugly Dan was more taken aback than he would have been by angriest speech, and a puz- zled look came into his dark eyes es he saw the old man falter, saw the girl draw his thin hand caressingly to her bosom, then gently wipe away the sudden tears that came into bis sightless eyes. He made no reply, for he knew not what to say. If it hadn’t been for an uneasy, im- re movementon the part of his companions, 1e might even have given over the unholy thoughts which had brought him to this little camp. He turned toward Blister, with a dark frown, making an imperious gesture, both of which were hidden from the girl. eGo AMIGELOCC) | (E(0) (E <S (E(@)