Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 385 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

- - ae 10 know who and what you are as soon as I can reach -agents can’t rule Leadville. * Affectionately yours, ** ToBin.” Turpin tore the paper into fragments. “Just as I thanght,” he psa ae “* He has gone to the mayor, the only proper person to whom he could appeal.” “Then the quicker we get out of Leadville, the better.” **Not so,” coolly replied the captain. ‘I happen to know more about the mayor than this man does. He supposes that official to be at home; but when he gets there, he will find that he is two miles out of town, at a party given by Colonel Casper. We will go direct to Casper’s and head him off. [I remember meeting a car- riage as | was coming here, and from appear- ances, [ll wager something that Tobin was in it. Arm yourself well, Ben; there is all you need in the drawer of the desk: and we will get away at once. Wemust have a carriage, and give the fellow style for style.” The Lion’s voice was clear and ringing, and Bowie Ben gave the unquestioning obedience he had always shown. In a short time they were ready for the road. Leaving the office, a carriage was readily found, and “a would have hired that par- ticular one if it had cost fifty dollars. He recog- nized the driver as a man he knew he could depend upon, and when he placed three times the amount of money asked in Jehu’s hand, a knew they would have a bold and faithful No time was lost on the way and, ignoring the mayor’s house entirely, they left the city end took the road to Colonel Casper’s. For halfa mile after leaving the city they went briskly, and then reached the junction of roads where Tobin’s carriage would be most likely to strike their track if, finding the mayor away, he should hasten to Casper’s. tees question now became, had he passed that int P This did not seem at all likely, but Dick Tur- in sprung out with the lantern he had brought for that purpose and examined the ground. What he saw did not please him. A carriage had recently passed over the branch ied. and turned toward the colonel’s re- sidence. There was a possibility that this was not the one thev sought, but the chances were against them. By furious driving the fellow might have aco the junction ahead of them, and Dick could well believe there would be furious driving. Tobin had boldly announced his pur- , and it would not do to let any time go s waste. The road-agent sprung back to his own carriage. ‘** Five do extra, if you overtake that out- fit before we reach Casper’s,” he tersely said, to his driver. “Tl do it, or bu’st my cylinder-head a-try- ing,” was the pennipe vig oh There was a crack of his whip, and the horses shot away as though it was a race against time. ‘‘T'm afraid it’s a tough chance,” said Bowie n. 7 “‘Tt’s none too promising, but there are some things in our favor. The other party has done ‘some mighty hard driving, and their horses must be an but fresh, while ours are in the best of condition. That is an important point; and I see that we have good horse-flesh with us.” ‘* Suppose Tobin does get there first?” ‘‘Pve thought of all that,” coolly replied Tur- pin. “If that occurs, we must h all on the cast of adie. I have said that I think Tobin is one of B t?s minor men. If so, and he is known to the mayor, our ig is, indeed, up; but the chances are that he will prove astranger to the mayor.” “Tn that case, what?” ‘‘In that case,” evenly replied the Lion of Leadville, ‘‘ you are a gentleman from Kansas; an officer of an.insane asylum; and Tobin is an escaped prisoner. You have followed him here, and, as he is a very dangerous fellow, you have secured my help tocatch him. Do you see?” ‘By Jove! I do,” Ben replied, ‘‘ and there is lots of ‘meat’ in the scheme. You and I know that bold schemes are what succeed.” The driver was sagan his duty well. He had horses, and knew how to handle them, and hey were sweeping aiong the road at a rate of speed which made the carriage dance like a thing of life. The wheels spun around dizzily, and when they struck an occasional stone by the Wild Dick Turp OE te eg Pe A in, the Lion of Leadville. close rub. Lay on the whip, driver, or all this labor is lost.” The whip was “‘laid on,” and they thundered forward at a mad pace, Objects by the wayside seemed like ghosts flitting along on silent wings. Almost at every revolution the wheels struck fire, and the horses’ feet sung an accompaniment to the racket, They were gaining, but not half fast enough for safety. The other carriage was at full speed, and the lights of Casper’s house shone not far ahead. If Tobin reached there first, there was no knowing what mischief he might do! Five minutes passed. They were still gaining, but the advantage was all with the pursued. ‘** The game is up!” said Dick Turpin, between his teeth. ‘* Nothing but death can prevent him from beating us now!’’ CHAPTER XII. THE DEATH-SHOT IN THE DARK. THIS assertion was beyond dispute. The lead- ing carriage, dimly seen in the starlight, seemed certain to reach the colonel’s house at least two minutes ahead of them, and a man with as much on his mind as Tobin had can say a good deal in two minutes. In this case it might be enough to hang one of the pursuers. Bold Dick Turpin never faltered, however. Many a time he had won victory where defeat seemed certain, simply by the use of that bold audacity which was a natural part of his nature. Unless luck had wholly deserted him, it might be so now. The Casper house was ablaze with lights, and all went to show that gayety reigned there su- reme, as the leading carriage drew up at the oor. A man sprung out and ran up the steps. Dick Turpin rose and stood erect as his own vehicle thundered along the intervening space. His jaws were set, and his whole expression told of determination which no obstacle could daunt. His future, and that of Lois, might depend on the next few minutes, but no cause ever had a better champion. The house was reached, and the driver reined in his panting horses; but, before they had stopped, Dick sprung out and ran the steps. e had expected to find Tobin already in the house, but, to his great relief, the fellow had not succeeded in ing the door. He stood there facing white-haired Colonel C r and several servants, excitedly swinging his ds. ‘* But I tell you the mayor is not here,” Cas- per exclaimed, as the Lion of Leadville ran up ps **Tt’s a lie!” shouted Tobin. ‘‘I know he is here, and I must see him at once. A minute more, and it may be too late.” A gleam of satisfaction shot into Dick Tur- pin’s eyes, These few words were enough to show him that the man had not succeeded in tel- lirig his story to the mayor, whatever he might have done to others, and he was ready for a bold move. His hand fell on Tobin’s shoulder. ‘ It’s too late now, = man!” he grimly said. Your is up, and—” Tobin had wheeled at the touch. His pursuer had arrived sooner than he expected, taking him somewhat by surprise, but, as he saw him, he suddenly jerked out a revolver and tried to use it. Dick, however, struck his arm, sending the weapon flyin away. ‘* No, you don’t! Now, be quiet, or it’ll be the worse for you.” : The warning was not heeded. Tobin was ex- cited past all bounds of reason, and he began a furious struggle. It was short, however, for Bowie Ben came to his leader’s aid and the irons ar had brought were soon on the man’s wrists. m | the steps. ck lifted his hat to the amazed old gentle- an. ‘“‘T congratulate you on your escape, Colonel Casper. This man is one of the most dangerous lunatics I ever saw, or heard of.” ‘* And I thank you, Sheriff Bradstreet, for helping me recapture him,” put in Bowie Ben, libly. en fle is not Sheriff Bradstreet!” almost howled Tobin. ‘‘Is there no one here who will listen to the truth? This man is Dick Turpin, the road-agent!” The counterfeit sheriff broke into a light laugh, and then suddenly became grave. Poor fellow!” he said, “it is strange what fancies a madman will get. I hope he has not troubled you, colonel.” ‘Not to any great extent, sheriff; thank you. He came and demanded to see the mayor—who went away an hour ago—but his manner was so turb my guests, and spoil their evening. I trust you will not let him escape again.” ** Rest assured, we shall not. Mr. Hammond, here, who belongs to the asylum, will take him away at once. Have no further fear, colonel.” This polite talk nearly drove Tobin as insane as he was alleged to be, and he mgt te desperate- ly against being removed, but Dick and Ben lifted him bodily and carried him to their car- riage. He was thrust inside, a few words said at parting, and then the driver turned his horses and they moved away. ‘* So far, so good,” observed Dick. ‘By George! it was very good. You never carried out a job with more nerve. If you had been Governor of the State you could not have carried a bolder hand.” “Timidity never wins. By the way, Mr. Tobin, you are suddenly silent. Have you noth- ing to say?” 2 ‘ No,” sullenly answered the prisoner. ‘‘ You may talk now, if you wish.” ‘* T don’t, but you must bear one thing in mind, Dick Turpin. It’s a long road that has no turn- ing, and I will live to bring you to grief. I swear it!” ‘‘ Pardon me, but how do you know you are destined to live at all? What is to hinder our leaving you in a grave, herein the mountains?” ‘* Perhaps it would be just as well,” sulkily re- plied the prisoner. ‘‘T am more than half-inclined to believe you, but Iam no assassin, and, if you are sensible you may yet live to be a patriarch. Understand me, though—I am not going to have any more nonsense from you. I am ne for too high stakes to be blocked by you. If “de get in my way again—if you do, I say—Ill be as merciless as he have shown yourself. Bear this in mind and—beware!” The return to Leadville was made without fur- ther adventure. Just outside Ben and the pris- oner were dropped, and then Dick went on to get three saddle-horses. One which he took was his own noble black, which he had ridden when *‘ on the road.” It seemed quite natural that the victor should appropriate the a ome and no one wondered when the supposed sheriff announced that he should keep the road-agent’s horse. With Brutus and the other horses, Dick turned back and rejoined Bowie Ben. Then all rode away from the vicinity. According to previous arrangement, Ben was to take the prisoner to Pony Fork, and lodge him with Old Man Hicks, but Dick thought it prudent to see him well on his way. They rode together for three miles, and then a brief good-by was said and the captain turned back. He rode homeward in a thoughtful mood. Tobin had, by rare — luck, been safely dis- posed of, but it would be a miracle if other com- plications did notarise. He had placed himself in a situation where nearly all the chances seem- ed inst him; on one side were his resemblance to Bradstreet, and his nerve and fertility of resource, but on the other trooped a legion of reasons why his position might be called pre- carious. Thinking of all this, and studying the situation, he rode back in a condition which permitted him to notice but little by the way. Something oc- curred to arouse him, however, before Leadville was reached, — He was moving quietly through a dark gulch, with Brutus choosing his own pace, when the darkness just ahead of him was suddenly, but transiently, broken by a vivid flash of light; the well-known whistle of a bullet sounded near his head; and the report of a revolver followed as a fitting climax. : Instantly, Dick Turpin was the Lion of Lead- ville again. Some one had tried to shoot him down without bie and the cowardly act fired his Llood to a belligerent pitch. With a sharp cry to Brutus, he dashed toward the unknown. Crack ! Again the revolver sounded, but the shot was wider sped than the Hes Then he saw a sr figure speeding away, and a grim smile cro nia face as he saw how the black horse was cov- ering ground in pursuit. He had drawn a re- volver, himself, but neither made a motion to use it nor call to the fugitive. The latter ran a few yards and then looked over his shoulder. He seemed to realize the folly of flight, and then prepared for another shot. He cocked his revolver, but, as he tried to ae his foot caught on a stone and he fell in a heap. Then came a third report, a sharp cry and a A al may left the ground and whirled in the air. wild that the servants would not admit him. I t groan. Dick Turpin had with difficulty avoided run- ita brought the old road days vividly back to | had just come to see if I could quell the disturb- | _ I ! _ Dick Turpin, but he was no longer working with | ance when you so luckily arrived.” ning upon the fallen man, and as he reined in i Ly i an object of which he need be ashamed. His Tobin saw that everything was going inst | his horse he knew that the unknown had shot i usurpation of Rob Bradstreet’s identity, and all | him, and, unluckily for him, he was unable to | himself, or was laying a trap into which he | the accompanying circumstances, was but so | urge his point ly. His appearance was cer- | might walk. 5) isregarding the latter possibility, he sprung uch done to win Lois, free her father, and win fo 1 to the ground and approached the spot. The , iy tainly excited enough for one deranged, as he i for himself a chance to live an honest life, cried: ed: “* Are you blind? Look at that man! He is ‘ri ‘‘ T see them!” suddenly announced the driver. unknown moaned feebly. Pp ae 2 haart ie Mt xs no more Sheriff Bradstreet than I am. Heis “What's the trouble?’ Dick asked, watching Dick Turpin, the outlaw, and I can prove it “Sheriff, you had better take him away at once,” interrupted the colonel. ‘‘ He will dis- him warily. ‘¢ Dm a dead man!”’ ** Not so bad as that, I reckon. Let me see.” ‘‘ Let me alone!” was the faint reply. ‘* The mieGbooks - “odo I,” Dick added. ‘ Yes, the carriage is in sight, and the question now arises—can we overtake it before Casper’s is reached! It’s a oo ; 7 . ] 4 . i" ° - 4