Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 38 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

Velvet Hand. ...- ¢ in the district. He had a cold, proud way with him, and as plainly-spoken denizens were wont to express it, he went around ‘‘a-kinder a-holdin’ up his nose as if he reckoned he was better nor common folks;” and yet, neither by word nor deed had the superintendent ever given the people of Cinnabar reason to think so; it was his generai bearing, that was all. And with the white-faced, iron-willed, resolute Bertrand sat the fat and greasy bummer, Joe Bowers. The superintendent sat idly tilted back in a chair, puffing a long cigar, while the old and unsavory vagabond, stretched out upon a sort of lounge, which had been cleverly extemporized by spreading a buffalo-robe over some candle-boxes, was busily engaged in endeavoring to keep a short, black pipe in operation. If the inhabitants of the lively town, the Queen City of the Shasta valley, could have peeped in at the window and witnessed this scene of contentment, they would have been much surprised at the evidence of intimacy thus plainly evinced, between the shrewd and rather domineering superintendent of the Cinnabar property and the veteran bummer, the irrepressible Joe Bowers, for there was nothing in common between the two, and in fact, few in the town knew that they were even acquainted. The Cinnabar ‘‘ boss” was none of your common fellows; he didn’t mix with the crowd, and Bowers would have been the last man in the world to have been indicated as an intimate friend of the cool, determined Mr. Redan—Bert Redan, as he was generally termed. Bowers had been absent from the “city” for about a month, and had only returned on the previous evening; he had spent the night at the Break o’ Day House, having fallen in with the gay and festive Yuba Bill immediately after alighting from the stage in which he had journeyed from Yreka, and Yuba had con- fided to the veteran his idea for making a raise out of the Chinese washee-washee, which, as the reader knows, had resulted so dis- astrously to the proud Caucasians, and had nearly proved th death of the almond-eyed son of the flowery land. : ‘Well, how goes it, rocks?’ Mr. Bowers observed, th evidently opening a conversation, | ‘Oh, as well as can be expected,” Redan answered in his care- less, easy way. ‘‘The mine is a hummer, isn’t she? Oh, me most noble and potential dook! ‘the rich east holds not her peer!’ From the south to the east, north and north-westerly, the cry comes up; she knocks the socks outen any of ’em, you bet!” Time had not withered the original Joe Bowers—that was clearly evident; nor staled his infinite variety. ‘* It’s a rich lode,” ‘‘ And didn’t I say it, an’ can’t you tie to me every time? an’ the man who seys that | ain’t worth my weight in gold-dust, when it comes to the clear white article, is a villain an’ a goat- thief |” ‘¢ Your information in regard to this mine was perfectly cor- rect; you certainly put me ia for a good thing.” ‘“‘T couldn’t handle it myself, you know. I ain’t the kind of hair-pin to cut a superintendent of a mine outen on; but I knew that you could make the trick every time, and it’s a heap sight better than hangin’ ’round Fr’isco, jes’ makin’ your grub, an’ that’s all.” ‘“Del Colma is going to the devil, though, as fast as he can,” Redan observed. “Wot do you care?’ Bowers asked; * when he plays out mebbe you'll be ready to play in.” “Yes, that is my idea, exactly.” “But have you got the money, my lord dook? Talk is cheap, you know, but it takes the rocks to buy land,” and the original Joe Bowers looked sagely. “Yes, I guess I can raise enough to manage the matter,” ‘‘ But wot is the trouble with his noble nibs? Is he a-handlin’ the ‘papers,’ or takin’ a ‘bowl’ with the boys from Oshkosh too lively?” * Oh, his drinking will never ruin him, although he’s as good a customer as the Occidental knows; but, lately he’s taken to play- ing cards with a new map that has recently come to town. It’s all night work, too: they get at it about nine at night and keep it up until morning, and from a few little things that I have heard Del Colma say, I think that he has been losing pretty heavily.” ‘‘A new man, eh?” and a sly twinkle appeared in Bower’s fish- like eyes; ‘‘ an’ has he got the ducats?” ‘‘ He always seems to have plenty of money,” Bertrand replied, ‘“‘T must caJl on him. I play poker myself, once in a while,” and Bowers smiled, p , ‘Why, you have already made his acquaintance; it’s Velvet Hand, the sharp that prevented you and the Break o’ Day crowd from hanging the Chinaman last night.” ‘Oh that’s all right, then,” the bummer replied, evidently rather astonished at the information. ‘‘None of him in mine! He’s too big for me to tackle. Ole Joe Bowers is no fool, no, sir-ee! I know the size of the animal I want.” ‘¢] know that Del Colma has lost very heavily, indeed, and there’s a heavy mortgage on the mine which must be met shortly. I don’t think that he can possibly raise money to meet it, and then comes my chance.” “Ye gentle auctioneer sails in, eh? an’ you reckon to buy the property at sheriff’s sale?” ““Oh, no!” Redan answered; “I’m playing a deeper game than shat. I want money; but I want something else more.” Bowers winked his little eyes mysteriously. “Oh! ye kin cut it as fat as any man that I know of, ye kin!” «Yes, I rather flatter myself that I am up to a thing or two,” returned the superintendent, complacently. ‘Del Colma is no match for sich a sharp as you are, me royal magnifico!” “No, 1 think not. He will soon get beyond his depth; next - week will probably bring matters toa focus. He'll need about ten thousand dollars, and I know a man who will lend it to him.” Bowers looked incredulous. ‘“‘That man is myself!” And now the bummer looked astonished. “Tm playing a bold game and a deep one. I have been fool enough to fall in love with Blanche del Colma, Ferdinand’s sister, and so far, in spite of all my efforts, I haven’t succeeded in making the slightest impression upon her. She’s a deuced strange girl; I never saw a woman like her before; she doesn’t seem to care for a fellow at all; she’s fond enough of her horse, but she scarcely looks ata man. Well, now, just because she is that kind of a girl, I’ve made up my mind to have her. If I lend Fernando the money to save the mine, I shall have a claim upon her gener- osity; I know her peculiar, high-spirited nature; the feeling of debt will weigh her down, and she will be glad to quit the account by giving herself.” “‘Tt’s a bully plan!” cried Bowers, warmly. ‘‘ Thar’s only one chance to upset it; s’pose she falls in love with some other galoot?” “‘Bah! where is she to find a man to suit her fancy in this region?’ Bertrand exclaimed, CHAPTER VIIL A BOLD STROKE. Wrrn a calm face the helpless man watched the road-agents depart, In one hour they would return, and then—but, one hour’s respite was a great deal of time to give to such a man as Velvet Hand. Within a single hour the tide of great battles has been turned, and a nation lost and won. Scarcely had the figures of the masked men disappeared from sight when through the active mind of the prisoner plans of escape began to pass. He was bound hand and foot—bound so securely that the road- agents left him to solitude with easy minds; they did not for a single instant dream that he would be able to free himself. And Velvet Hand, supple and strong as a mountain lion, found it impossible to loosen the cord which confined his wrists. “When the lion’s skin falls short, eke it out with the fox’s,” wrote the ancient Greek, and the captive acted upon this advice, With all his wondrous strength he could not loosen the tightly- fastened cord; trick then must serve when force failed. Availing himself of the rough surface of the wall, near which he was placed, grasping the jagged points with his hands, he pulled himself to his feet. The fastenings around his ankles allowed him to stand, although locomotion was impossible. Stuck upon a projecting point of the rocky wall, within easy reach of his hands, was one of the candles whereby the cavern was lighted. Into the blaze of this candle the prisoner thrust the ends of the cord hanging from the knot which all his strength had been unable to break. The device succeeded. The consuming flame speedily charred the strands of the rope, eating its way into the knot until it gave way’ beneath the straining muscles. | The wrists of the man suffered, but Velvet Hand never flinched, for what was a trifling burn compared to the loss of a limb or life? The cord parted; the prisoner’s hands were free. An easy matter then for Velvet Hand to whip out his knife and sever the lariat of hide which bound his ankles. ‘“‘Now, my gentleman road-agent!” cried the Cinnabar man, as he drew forth his revolvers and examined the caps, “‘we will meet on more equal terms! I might as well take the bull by the horns as to wait for the scoundrels to come. Ive an appointment in the defile above the McCloud canyon, and I'd like to get a few winks of sleep before that.” At the end of the cavern the mouth of a vaulted passage through which the road agents bad departed. Cau- Velvet Hand stole forward, entered the dark passage, a cocked revolver in each hand, expecting to encounter the outlaws at any moment. Twenty—thirty steps he took; then, turning abruptly around a sharp corner, found himself in another cavern, larger in its dimen- sions than the inner one. A single candle only illuminated the darkness, and close by the candle, which was placed on the top of a large bowlder, sat the three road-agents in busy consultation. _ So noiseless had been Velvet Hand’s advance that the outlaws had not discovered his presence, and, concealed as he was in the gloom which hung around the mouth of the dark passage, it would have taken a sharper pair of eyes than ordinary humans are gifted with to have discovered his figure. Just beyond the collection of bowlders occupied by the des- peradoes, was a passage-way through which shone a faint light —not an artificial illuntination, but the clear, glorious light of the day-god. This was evidently the portal to the outer world, but how to gain it? that was the question. Velvet Hand reflected for a moment. Ambushed as he was, all the advantages on his side, he could easily have slain two of the outlaws before they could have raised a finger to have pre- vented it, but he shrunk from shedding blood; he did not wish to have even the deaths of these desperadoes upon his soul, and then there was a certain something in his nature that revolted at Eomickooks