Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 38 — page 1: what you’re looking at

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

a ris | “en 7 Complete Vol. LI. In One Number. The Velvet Hand; The Iron Grip of Injun’ Dick. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, AUTHOR OF ‘ OVERLAND KIT,”’ “‘ ROCKY MOUNTAIN ROB,” “ EENTUCK, THE SPORT,” “‘ INJUN DICK,’’ ETC. PROLOGUE. NOT DEAD BUT SLEEPING. DaRK and gloomy were the clouds that lowered around — Shasta’s snow-covered peak. The hour of midnight was near at hand, and the wes moon, struge in the embrace of the thick and envious c ook barely lighted up the night. On the north-western side of the where one of the edges of the old crater broken away, thus forming a small circular plateau about a hundred yards in diameter, a huge fire was brightly rey By the fire, and feeding the flames, stood a tall, dark form. \) WANS ‘ J \ Z = NOR Vv : ~~ \ \ \\\\\ S \ NO ht r YY | SAY} SSSas°:ann \\ SS ‘a8 | Si: \\ LAS 3/ \ ~~. Ks \ Ws WY i Yu MM SS No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. The copper-colored face, the massive features, as well as the forest-prairie b of deerskin which he wore ene told t the man was native to the soil. Far below in the valley twinkled the lights of the veyron of Cinnabar, and in the main street of that young metropolis of the Shasta valley, a group of miners were gathered, eagerly trying, with the aid of a powerful glass, to dis- cover the meaning of the unusual n blaz- ing so brightly on the side of giant Shasta’s “‘Some of the buck’s heathen ceremonies!” the word went around, as, , ee aid of the glass, the miners made out t the tail form standing by the burning pile was a savage chief. Little did the men of Cinnabar dream that the blazing beacon was to serve as a funeral for the mortal remains of the long-bearded erokee, the Injun Dick of ‘‘ Overland Kit,” the untiring pursuer of “Rocky Mountain Rob,” the Richard Talbot, superintendent of the Cinnabar Mine, of ‘“‘ Kentuck,” and the dreaded White Rider, the Death-Shot of Shasta, who made such fearful fight for the {iP y; ae h I) = = ~~ = - ’ SS — AALS “F . > a ' 7 ae i. We WT) uf . x . = ~ e"s%. \ 1.4 “4 . " AGU PI #, AKAN ot » “ “a Y . . / Z ~ Okt / “ « 20% GY reek V \ieSss . EARS y \ - . yaa ‘ Se \ WSS : 4 SIAN NX z iP y r } ‘yj ; The . 299 | en ios iit Tiny Beadle ¢ Adams, Publishers, ay} te . an —< ~~ ~~ - 4 WICKEL-PLATED REVOLVER GLISTENED IN VELVE T HAND’S WHITE FINGERS, AND NOT A MAN CARED TO STEIN Nl PYRIGHTED IN 1878,8vVY BEADLE & ADAMS. pnd yyy Yedipy, Price, Ten Cents. No. 38. ee Cinnabar lode, as detailed in the pages of ‘‘ In- jun Dick.” “Give my body to the flames on Shasta’s side,” the hero had muttered, after receiving the chance shot, his death-wound, seemingly. And O-wa-te (Mud-turtle), the Blackfoot chief, who had traveled far from the home of his tribe, seeking the friend of his early days in the golden California land, promised to respect the injunction. Then the stricken man had swooned away and the Indian, bending anxiously over the still form, believed that death’s dark angel had set his fatal signet upon the brow of lion-hearted Talbot. Motionless by the side of the body, with his head muffled in his blanket after the fashion of his people when mourning for the loved and lost, the chief had remained until the midnight hour was at hand; then, to the top of Shasta’s he bore the senseless form of the man who ad been to him like a brother. The funeral p was kindled, and as the flames roared an kled high in the air, the Indian knelt b e side of the form, now so cold and still, Be farewell to take. 4}; 4 ils j 4h Ty) iii WA GF Of ty Ch sisi J , f ‘ ’ . 2 di Ye tLS i, ij ‘ . 4} i WiffjR saan oi if ‘ dé * \) i! \ TEST HIS MARKSMANSHIP. EO 6)(6)(6) AMUCE