Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 385 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

—— ik hoe Ss ae . 7 5 - yt —_ -__ + Ow Se eee = = a? a i gai 2 “ - ——— v r the ore mee | ee » we! oo) jeer De ont ee SSR am — ¢ — i a | , | 2 (tw eae ‘could overtake them if he wished. 26 This letter he did not intend to trust out of his own hands until Legrand was free, so he put it in his pocket for the time being. Next, he went again to Bowie Ben. He found his ally ina gloomy mood, for which he could ; hardly account, and when he questioned him Ben did not at first give a direct answer. ** Come,” urged Dick, ‘‘ let me know all. You are doing all you can to help me to happiness. Will you not give me a chance to help you? Does 16 relate to Red Kit?” “To tell the truth, yes,” Ben admitted. ‘“* You see, the situation is very peculiar. I am going with you; I must go, for I don’t want to remain here and be lynched; and as it is not likely we | shall stop short of California, the question arises: | Where will Red Kit be when I get around to | look her up again?” | “T had not thought of that,” Dick gravely | confessed. ‘“‘It must be arranged somehow. | Why not let Kit go with us, Ben?” “No, no!” was the hasty reply. ‘* That would never do. Don’t think of it.” ‘*Then, why not appoint an address to which you can write at any time, and so keep informed concerning her?” But Bowie Ben shook his head. “Never mind, captain; I had rather let the stream run on. It'll come outright in the end, I | dare say. Considering that Kit don’t seem to take to me, I had rather let the matter rest for awhile;so say no more, captain—say no more. At what hour do you intend to rescue Le- grand?’ “Not until well toward morning. The ar- | rangements I have made for our flight are such that we don’t want to leave Legrand’s house un- tilsunrise. If Legrand gets there at daybreak, it will be soon enough.” For some time longer the two remained in conversation and then they separated for awhile. Dick Turpin, of Leadville, walked the streets for two hours, his mind the seat of strange and varied thoughts. Good luck had attended his daring deceit, and he bade fair to get away from the city successfully, but how much fur- ther he would get was a question. The future was shrouded in darkness, and he | must await developments. The night wore slowly on, andit seemed as though the hour of action would never come, but come it did at last. Dick and Ben met by | appointment, and then they turned their atten- | tion to rescuing Legrand. No elaborate work was necessary for this; | Dick had already secretly introduced a note to | the prisoner’s cell, which informed him that | friends would effect his rescue at a certain hour, and bade him be ready to go at a moment’s | notice. The rest was to be done by a very sim- ple trick. They went to the jail and Dick aroused the | guard, while Ben kept well back so as not to be | seen. Dick was admitted, and then he sent the | guard to another part of the jail on an errand | ‘which would occupy several minutes of his ae Of course he obeyed the “‘ sheriff” readi- | te was no sooner out of sight than Bowie Ben glided in, Legrand’s cell door was unlocked, | and, while Dick stood back behind the door, | Ben entered. . There stood Legrand, an eager look on his | ace | “Come!” said Ben, quickly. ‘*‘ Not one mo- ment is to be lost. Come!” Legrand warmly wrung his hand. ‘‘Heaven bless you!” he said, huskily; and — then they glided from the jail, with quick, light ste ick Turpin relocked the cell door, and, when the guard returned, was waiting in the corridor as though nothing had occurred, He finished the details of the bogus errand upon which he pretended he had come, and then left the jail. All had thus far worked finely, and he had little fear for the future. Ben and Legrand had gone on, but Brutus was near at hand and he | This, how- | ever, was not a part of the plan. Legrand was still unsuspicious of his identity, and as the ‘miner felt so bitter against Dick Turpin, the ex- | road-agent preferred to let Ben and Lois talk | with him first, and not see his prospective father-in-law until] morning. Consequently, when he had mounted Brutus, he ohly rode near enough to keep them in sight, and see that no harm came to them. In this way Leadville was passed. Dick fol- lowed them for another mile, and then, con-— vinced that all danger to them was past, he | halted and watched them out of sight. Gradu- no ally men and horses faded in the darkness, and | then he turned back. . | He had yet to leave the letter for the real — Sheriff Bradstreet. He reached the office, left Brutus at the door | and entered. Lighting the lamp, he put the let- | ter away where it was not likely to be found | until the sheriff overhauled his papers. _ *T hope Rob won't think hard of me when he | has read it, and seen Sibylla. True, he will not | suspect the most important secret of all, but he will see that I have tried to uphold the honor of his official position.” | ' > ee ee oe Wild Dick Turpin, the L | coolness all gone. He was .thinking thus when a footfall caused him to wheel about, There stood Jude Peterson, the police spy. The new-comer did not look as meek friendly as usual. = his dark face, and he spoke in an offensive one: ** You work late, sheriff.” ‘* Rather,” Dick replied, looking at him keenly. ** One would think you had important business on hand,” ‘* Don’t I always have?” ‘Yes, but seldom so important as on this night.” Significant was Jude’s manner, and his evil smile somehow reminded Dick of a snake with erected head, ‘* What do you mean?” ** Simply that your game is up, Dick Turpin!” There was a sudden change in the police spy's manner, his voice had become sharp and stern, and he drew a revolver with a jerk. It did not rise to a level. With a great bound Dick Turpin reached his side, and, in a moment more, the weapon was wrenched away. The ad- venturer was, indeed, the Lion of Leadville then. Knowing the danger, all his wrath turned against the mocking rascal, and he practically lost his head. His eyes were flaming, and his @ remembered only that Jude had the power to ruin all, if given a chance, and he turned the revolver and brought it down on his head with telling force. The police spy dropped like a lump of lead to the floor. There was a pause, during which the Lion of Leadville did not stir any more than the man who lay so still at his feet, He had struck in the heat of passion, but when he saw bis enemy ya ate at his feet he grew calm again and began to fear that his blow had proved fatal—fear it, because, Villain that Jude was, the ex-road-agent did not wish to close his career at Leadville with manslaughter on his hands, He knelt beside the fallen man and examined him. Nothing definite could be told, but he did not believe Jude was more than stunned. The revolver had made a slight bruise, but no blood flowed, and the spy’s condition did not seem alarming. Turpin breathed freer, and ther, after some thought, he proceeded to bind and gag his enemy. This done, he stowed him away in the closet where Sam Tobin had once been confined. There was no danger but he would be found soon, and this would prevent his giving untimely alarm. This done, he extinguished the light, locked the office and rode away toward Le- grand’s. Leadville was soon passed, and, when outside the town, he stopped Brutus and looked back, thinking: ‘** Farewell, city of the mountains! The most important scenes of my later life have occurred in, and near, your limits, but I hope never to see ou again. My name will not soon be forgotten ere, but, in a new and peaceful life, I shall for- get you as far as possible!” And then he rode on—rode to join Lois! CHAPTER XXXIII. A THUNDERBOLT, AT the same time that Dick Turpin was res- ontng Legrand from peasy an important scene was being enacted by the bedside of Sheriff Bradstreet. The doctor who had had charge of him did not leave the room that night. Heread the fact that the crisis of the fever was at hand, and, though he supposed his patient to be only Dick Turpin, of dville, he was sufficiently devoted to his profession to eagerly desire to save him. Moreover, the night-nurse, the supposed col- ored man, had not come around, and the doctor was resolved that the sick man should have every attention, He watched him constantly through the pass- ing hours, doing what he could professionally, and waiting for the turn of the fever. The night was well spent when he noticed a perceptible difference in his patient’s breathing, and the hot, fevered cuticle began to assume more favorable conditions. The physician’s hopes rose high, ‘* He will live!” he thought, exultantly. Still the minutes rolled on until— Sheriff Bradstreet opened his eyes. The light of reason and was in them, but he looked at the doctor in a puzzled way. “Tt’s all right, ‘said the latter. “Don’t worry yourself in the least. You're all right Ww. ** Have I been hurt?” The sheriff's voice was weak, but nowhere near as much so as was to be expected. **- Yes, and you've been sick, but all has turned well. Have no more fear, Mr. Turpin.” — “Turpin! Why do you call me that?’ de- manded the sick man, with surprising vigor. _ “Oh! never mind. Here is medicine; drink if, and you will be all right.” ** Wait! Why did you call me Turpin?” It was an irritable question. caused wholly by Bradstreet’s aversion to the Lion of Leadville. ‘isn’t that your name?” ¢) . ‘ ‘ Wh belle See There was a sneering smile | ion of Leadville. | a i ‘“My name! Certainly not. I am Sheriff Bradstreet!” ‘* Well, never mind. Drink this, please.” ‘* Not yet! Am I, or am I not, Sheriff Brad- street?” ‘* Well, there is another man who is filling the office, but you may be the genuine article,” the doctor replied, little suspecting how near he had come to the truth. ‘* Another man filling the office?” echoed the patient, his eyes unnaturally large. ‘Yes, but never mind that, Here is your medicine.” ‘* But where is Dick Turpin? You called me Turpin. Do you mean—” ‘Sir, lam your B rds and I must insist: upon obedience. Your life. depends upon it. Drink this!” **One moment, and one only, Doctor Orme. Did you, or did you not, dress a wound in Rokert Bradstreet’s left arm, near the ‘ muscle,” a year ago?” “I did.” ‘* Would you recognize that wound now by the scar?” ‘** Certainly.” ‘Then I must ask you to look atmyarm. If you then say that I am Dick Turpin, I will ad- mit that I don’t know wholam. In any case, I will then drink what you offer.” Never before had Doctor Orme seen a mans with so much strength under such circum- stances, and the whole affair bad grown myste~ rious, the more so because he bad actually noticed, despite his patient’s burns, that there was a resemblance between him and the sup- posed sheriff, Impressed with a sudden idea, he looked at the arm. ' There was a scar, and he could almost have sworn there was not another like it in the world:. and that scar was the result of a wound he bad dressed a year before on Sheriff Bradstreet’s: arm. ** Well?’ questioned the patient, coolly. ‘* By my life, you are Bradstreet! But who. is—is—” ‘if any one is acting as Sheriff Bradstreet: here, he is an impostor. Again I ask, where is: Dick Turpin?” ** Shoot me if I don’t believe he is masquerad- ing in your shoes! Yow have been here as Dick Turpin, and somebody else has been acting as Sheriff Bradstreet.” ‘‘Rest assured it is the daring outlaw, and you must head bim off; he must be arrested at once, Icandonothing. What you say about my condition is correct; I must be quiet. eee rom- pose yonder draught is to put me asleep, ise me solemnly that me will at once give the alarm, and I will drink.” “T do promise—nay, I swear it!” ‘*Give me the draught.” Doctor Orme obeyed, and the sick man closed! his eyes. 4 i leave all to you,” he said. His coolness was wonderful, and the doctor’ erimly thought that he cught to take a drug fully as much as his patient, for he was nervous and angry, but never before bad he been so: amazed. How to account for it he did not know, but he determined to keep his promise at once, Sittine down, he hastily wrote a note, and. then called an attendant. ‘Take this to the mayor at once,” he directed. “‘ Lose no time by the way; here i: money—get a horse, and gallop like Tam O'Shanter. The devil is let loose, and your head depends on your speed. No questions; go—go!” He pushed the man from the place, and then wept back to Bradstreet. The latter had al-. ready fallen asleep. : “He will live,” thought Orme. “Live! He must do so, to help solve this mystery. By my life, I think Leadville will ring before nicht with the strangest story ever told within its limits!” Dick Turpin, of Leadville, galloped rapidly’ away through the gray dawn of the morning, but Brutus had never before seemed soslow. He: was going like a bird, in reality, but the Lion longed to reach his destination and once more: oa Lois in his arms. ; is heart beat high with hope, and his face was almost as gentle asa woman’s. At lJast!— at last!—he was leaving plot and double-dealing: and crime behind; he;was going to an honest: life; to peace and happiness; to Lois! ‘On, Brutus, on! Go as you never went he- fore, boy, for when our journey ends I shall be the happiest man in the wide, wide world!” They rattled through the last pass, emerged to a level, and the Legrand house lay hefcre: him. It looked somewhat dreary, for no smoke. was rising from the chimney, but this was not. to be wondered at. Legrand had had but. two: hours at the place since his return, and the- whole family, including Ben, had probably been: very son é Dick glanced at the mountain-tops, noting the ition of the sun. : ‘Itis within fifteen minutes of the time I set for our departure,” he thought, and then clat- ' tered up to the door. ‘comicbook: ‘ is ; ‘ pA. - at Soe BE SOM ~ a wT. &