Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 383 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

Pl f J “a _—_ 1 ~ ees ‘ * +! ‘*) . a s + ’ ‘ ‘he U Nie ‘ ; ys; id PX re -~ . Nuk “tek of oe ry’ i] io ~ ' vt fi oH al ’ - ! ao J > “yg STA va fa eee Al «* > ‘ - A ni ste a meee = . in doing nothing, and had my trouble for my ins.” : Se carefully avoided any reference to Andrew Birkett’s attempt upon his life, as that would only needlessly distress the girl. ‘*T hope that my guess about your news is right,” he said. ‘What is your guess, Sam?” ** That it is from your father.” “That is just whatitis. I have got such a long and lovely letter from him, and it is full of such amazing good news. He is part owner of a mine, and it is a new mine and a very rich one, though it has just been opened, He could sell out, he says, at a big figure, but will get a great deal more money by holding on and work- athe mine,” “That is what he meant when he told you that he had struck it rich,” suggested Slevin. ““Of course it is. I can’t guess how it hap- pened. It is simply wonderful. But he said when he went away that perhaps the notice to quit Butte was the best thing that could happen to him,.and it seems that it has been. Now he says that he wants me to go right down there and join him, and the best of it is, Sam, that he wants you to take me.” “‘ Bhat suits me, Kate. Where is the mine?” *In the Bannack region, at a place called Whitewood Canyon.” W Allright. Get ready as soon as you please, and I will attend to everything else.” _ Before leaving Butte Sam Slevin attended to a little matter of business. -‘He had formed the opinion that Andrew ‘Birkett would not have wantonly and causeless- ly have made that second attempt upon his life. The prominent citizen must have had some- thing to gain by his dastardly deed, and the something must be connected with Slevin’s abor- tive expedition. There must be some mystery connected with ‘the cabin out yonder which the man from Cen- tral City had failed to fathom. As it was not likely that at the present time he would himself be able to accomplish anything in that quarter, he decided that it might be a good plan to put Muggs of Muggsville on the scent and let him try his band. Therefore he explained the circumstances to his satellite, and gave him such instructions as seemed fitting, but left the matter mainly to his discretion. CHAPTER XX, WHITEWOOD MINE. A STRANGE and wonderful region is the Great Divide, where streams on one side of the im- mense mountain range feed the rivers that empty * into the Pacific, and on the other side the waters start on the long journey that finally brings them to the distant Atlantic, Drops of rain that fall but a few yards ape have Rentinations that are separated by thou- sands of miles. In the heart of that wild and wonderful region was Whitewood Canyon. Tt was not a true canyon, because it was in no sense a pass, and did not lead through or to : an n . it recat as a canyon, starting from a level as a narrow gorge with precipitous side, through which ran a stream that was part of the head- waters of the Yellowstone. _ But its character changed soon after it had fairly been entered, and ‘‘ No Thoroughfare” was written plainly on all its features. - Then the sides became less precipitous, and the rocky incline acquired a steeper ascent, un- til finally it spread out into the hills that climb- ed and towered upward until they joined the snow-topped mountains which formed that part of the backbone of the continent. - To reach Whitewood Canyon it was necessary - to traverse a mountainous district, and then descend into a well-wooded and watered plain or valley, much like the Parks of Colorado. ’ On the western side of the level was the can- on, so called, and at the head of the canyon— hat is to say, where it ceased to be a canyon— was the mine which was the Angus Dameron and Richard Herries. It was not_yet in full operation, but had been fairly opened, and the yield and the prospect -were-highly encouraging to all concerned, from ‘the»proprietors down to the humblest laborer he “with pick and drill. Already its renown had gone abroad, and its romise was so good that quite a settlement been established near the mouth of the can- On, ‘The mine had been styled the Whitewood mine, and the settlement had received the name of Whitewood. On the northern bank of the creek was a gen- eral supply store of some pretensions, and near it, scattered about the plain, were two saloons and a number of shanties, mostly built of logs, which were plentiful there. At that time Whitewood, of course, had a new and temporary appearance, as if the camp had been hastily thrown together and might be swept away at any moment; but a town site had been Jaid ont and platted, and a land office had been established, and the present inhabi- Ppa property of ee Silver Sam, Detective. eo ee tants indulged in the great expectations common to nearly all such settlements. On the other side of the creek, near the head of the slope, and close to the mountain-side, was a roomy and comfortable log cabin, Near it, and occupying a very eligible loca- tion, was a shanty building which was doubtless intended to pass for a cottage, nearly completed and already partly furnished. Seated in an arm-chair at the door of the cabin, propped up with blankets and pillows, was a tall man, pale and emaciated, whose long hair and heavy beard contrasted strangely with his feeble physical appearance. This invalid was Angus Dameron, who had experienced a return of the illness that had pros- trated him before Jim Boggs attempted to put him out of the world, and had been confined to the cabin since the opening of the mine. Near him stood Dick Herries, a tall and stal- wart man, his black hair and beard streaked with gray, but looking a picture of health and vigorous manhood. He was conversing with Dameron, but his gaze was frequently turned toward the road that crossed the open country and was lost in the rocky region at the eastward. **So the ore is proving richer than we ex- ee remarked jag ‘**'We can bear to 9e disappointed that way. I only wish that I could be strong enough to get about and attend to business. But it isa consolation to know that I can depend on you for that.” ‘*T believe you can, partner, and I have some reliable men to help me. Young Dave Boreman makes a capital foreman, and his father is very useful. Everything is going on well. We could not wish for a better prospect or a better performance.” ** We are in luck, Dick, but our prosperity is largely owing to you. We would have been in a bad fix but for your profitable visit to Butte. The ten thousand aollara you brought down straightened us up nicely.” ‘**'Yes, it helped us to open out the mine and get a good start without a dollar of debt; and now if we needed to use our credit we would find it first-class.” ‘There is only one thing that worries me, Dick, besides my health. I am sorry that we did not bury Jim Boggs before we left the cabin under the snow.” ‘*Tt would have been the decent thing to do, no doubt; but it was impossible just then. It was as much as we could do to get ourselves away, and there would have been another dead man in the snow if you had stayed there any longer.” ‘*Tt is a pity. But we ought to look after that matter, now that spring has fairly opened.” “*T will attend to it, partner, I will send Stephen Boreman, if I can’t find time to go there myself.” ‘ Where are your thoughts wandering to now, Dick? What are you looking off yonder for?” **T am looking for my daughter. Don’t you know that? I expected her two days ago, and now I am looking for her all the time. The stage ought to be in before night. If it does not bring her, I shall.be afraid that some misfortune has occurred.” ** What could happen?” ** Much might happen. ILamafraid of Andrew Birkett, the man from whom I wen that ten thousand dollars. Ihad supposed him to be my friend, but have since learned that he was my worst enemy. I settled one account by that turn at poker; but there is more behind, and I am afraid for the girl when she is anywhere near him.” ‘But that young man of whom you have been speaking to me, Dick—that Sam Slevin— he can be relied on to take care of her.” ‘*T believe so; but I shall feel uneasy until she comes.” ‘* When she does get here, Dick, what a joy she will be to us!” ‘Yes, she will light up Whitewood—you may bet high on that. And you will be nicely taken care of then, partner, and I may hope to see you around soon. Hello! I believe that’s the stage at last!” ; Out from the timber on the plain came a dark and dingy vehicle, drawn by four tired horses, which was easily recognized as the conveyance which periodically connected Whitewood with the outer world. As it approached the settlement, Dick Herries declared that he saw the flutter of calico about the contraption. He waved his handkerchief, and there was an answering wave from the vehicle. j ‘That must be Kate!” he joyfully exclaimed, and he ran down the slope and crossed the creek to meet her. It was indeed Kate Herries, who had been the star of the stage route during her brief engage- ment as a passenger, and was the cynosure of all eyes when she escaped from the contraption of Whitewood, But all admirers were obliged to give way to her father, who her in his arms, as if she had safely issued from a great peril, and carried her off in triumph, Then the stage-driver became the hero of the occasion, and everybody was anxious to buy his f { > ,* * . * s . Ld * ia i Set -” TAP? iss nS ee Vg Ons | | liquor for him, and to ply himn with questions concerning his fair passenger. Sam Slevin, who came with her, was also warmly greeted by Dick Herries, and was taken across the creek to the new house on the hill. CHAPTER XXII, DICK HERRIES’S GREAT TROUBLE. THE arrival of Kate Herries and Sam Slevim made changes at Whitewood; but they were all pleasant and happy changes. The new house was finished and furnished as rapidly as possible, and Angus Dameron was in- stalled in its most comfortable room, with Kate as his nurse and cheerful companion. He was highly delighted with this arrange- ment; but, in spite of all that could be done for him, his physical condition did not visibly im- prove. Sam Slevin had an * understanding” with Dick Herries, which was quite satisfactory ta both, and the result of it was that Sam was ac- cepted as Kate’s suitor, if not yet as her future husband. On other points they had a pretty plain and definite understanding, which covered not only the relations which had formerly subsisted be- tween Dick Herries and Andrew Birkett, but the disappearance of the latter’s wife. On this point Herries was evidently unwilling to dwell. ‘*T thought that heard about it from Kate,” he said. ‘““Only the fact of Mrs. Herries’s disappear- ance,” answered Sam. ‘It seemed to be a sore subject with her, and I did not care to questiom her closely. But itis different with you. Hard as it may be to speak of it, itis best to face up the truth. I hope you will believe that I don’t ask any questions out of mere curiosity, but be- cause a full knowledge of the facts may help me Z be more useful to you than I otherwise could ‘*T believe you, Sam, and I am sure that I cam trust you. After all, there is not so much to tell. It is about the same story that has beem so often told of other people—the old story of a false friend and a faithless wife. ‘*But I would never have believed it possible that my wife could turn out in that way. She was not strong physically, and was never given to any flighty ways, but always seemed to be eg to her home and especially to her child. ‘*But there is no telling what may happen, or who is likely to go astray. ‘*There came to Butte a man I had known in Cheyenne and elsewhere, and with whom I had been quite intimate, His name was Matt Grace.” '** Matt Grace!” exclaimed Slevin, opening his: eyes wey: * ‘Yes, suppose you have met him. He was a well-known man, and a handsome fel- low, with airy and dashy ways, who was sure to be noticed wherever he went. He was a gambler, you know—one of our high-toned card sharps—with a big reputation for brilliant play. * He took to me, of course, ard I took to. him, and we were such friends that I invited him to my house, and he spent a good part of his time there. ‘*He was so fond of being there that I got: the idea that he was struck on my Kate.” ‘‘ Why, he was a married man,” interrupted m. ‘*Was he? I didn’t know that. It makes the case worse. Anyhow,I will never allow Kate: to marry a gambler if I can help it, and I told her as much. But she declared that she had no idea of doing anything of the kind, and said in a joking way that she thought it was: her mother to whom Mr. Grace was paying attention. ‘““Of course I laughed at that, and then L thought nothing more of the matter until An- drew Birkett began to make insinuating re- marks tome about Mett Grace being so much: in the company of my wife. ‘“T was mad enough at first to take the top of” his head off,but he assured me that he was speak~ ing tome asa friend, and I became eonvinced! that he had observed some incidents which had. escaped my atterition. ** After that, though I watched pretty closely,. I saw nothing that I could really eall suspicious ;, but you know how jealousy grows on a man, and Andrew Birkett kept feeding the fire by Pounie me of little things which he had seen or- heard. ‘*T was obliged to go up to Helena to attend. to some matters of business, and when I pot: home I found Kate in a terrible state of trouble, ‘Her mother was missing—had simply disap- se verhaps you would have peared without giving any hint of her intentions: or leaving the least clew by Which she could be traced. | ‘Kate only knew that her mother had gone- out in the evening, saying that she would return: shortly, and had not returned at all. ‘‘ Nobody knew what had become of ler, and’ nobody had even noticed her after she left the house. ‘‘T made searches and inquiries, but succeeded! only in discovering the fact: that Matt Grace- had left town the day of ber disappearance, andi ~ Eom (C