Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 385 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

, Turpin’s life. ‘* Well, now, sheriff, one word about the Le- grand girl. Did you notace her?” ‘“* Not particularly.” ‘‘ She’s a good one. Now, Brad, I’ve got an Wild Dick Turpin, the Lion of Leadville. eye for female loveliness, and sweet Lois just | fills my eye. I propose to step into Dick Tur- pin’s vacant shoes, and scoop in all that concen- trated beauty myself.” Jude Peterson would not have chuckled so loudly had he known who rode by his side. The wretch would have fled in terror had he known how near he was then to violent death. Dick Turpin’s blood boiled. The idea of this wretch daring to couple Lois’s name with his own seem- ed positive sacrilege, and it was only by a pow- erful effort that the Lion curbed his impulse to strike the spy to his feet. Luckily, it occurred to him that he still a4 the means of protecting his promised pride, His voice was wonderfully calm as he re- | hension, and that alone. plied: | ' 5 | ‘‘ We have no time to think of such matters | now, ” ‘Tm afraid he will die without recovering his senses. I hope not; I want to see him hung,” ‘‘ Probably there is no love lost, Jude.” At this point the trail narrowed and Dick managéd to free himself from the spy’s immedi- ate company. They went on and, in due time, reached Leadville. | ; They found the city a scene of rejoicing. The second party, to which Jude had referred, had been as successful as the first, The road-agents’ cave had been invaded; the occupants were taken by surprise; and in the fight which followed they made so poor a show that, though they fought | just what he had exposed himself to when he desperately, they were practically annihilated. ot a prisoner had been taken, however. A part of the band had escaped, but nearly all had been shot down, when they refused to sur- render, and, to use the words of the leader of the victorious party, ‘‘the cave ran red with blood.” Dick Turpin grew sick at heart as he heard the recital. These men had been rougher ruder, more criminal than he, but they had been his companions for many a day, and had served him faithfully; more than that, he knew that, as a leader, they had loved him. And now they had been butchered like so many sheep. . One person, and one only, was responsible for it all—Red Kit, the Wasp! Dick Turpin shivered and asked after the girl, but no-one had seen her at the cave, Probably she had time to make a successful re- treat. Leadville was intoxicated with triumph, and, for hours, a general jollification was kept up. The road-agents were annihilated, and the Lion a prisoner. Truly, they had cause to rejoice, and all over the place could be heard cheers for Sheriff Bradstreet. Little did they suspect that the miserable man whom they cheered at sight, even as he was cheered when out of sight, was the most wretch- ed man in the whole city. Little did they sus- pect, when he forced himself to smilingly answer their congratulations, that he was wishing that he might again place himself at the head of his gallant, though outlawed, band, and sweep Leadville from the face of the earth. It was, in truth, the darkest night of Dick Day was breaking, and four persons hovered in a recess among the rocks, high on the moun- tain-side. Two of them were men! the third, Mrs, Hallock; the fourth, Red Kit, the Wasp. The cold, gray dawn showed a circle of anx- ious faces, but Red Kit’swas ghastly. Every vestige of color was gone, and she looked older than her mother, While the others talked she stared straight ahead at vacancy, saying noth- ing. In her eyes was a horror not born of the events of the past; in her heart an awful dread which only the future could settle for weal or woe. Slow, heavy footsteps sounded, and then Duke Hallock appeared, his face pale and troubled. He dropped on the ground in silence, ‘We Le cried one of the other men, ‘‘ what news?” ‘The worst!” was the hoarse reply. ‘Dick Turpin is a prisoner in Leadville~-and dying!” There was a smothered cry, like the wail of a broken heart, and Red Kit fell forward on the ground, as unconscious &s the grim, pitiless rocks around her. CHAPTER VIII. JUDE PAYS A VISIT. MORNING. ‘ Wild Dick Turpin had not closed his eyes in slumber, but he had had a chance to consider the situation and Bie out his course. If it had not been for the perilous situation of Raoul Le- grand, he would have hastened to Lois, explained all, and tried to induce her to flee to a distant place; but this would not do while her father was in trouble. He felt sure that Legrand was not responsible Mi ? OE Ee Oe EEE Eee Eee Wait till we get our city purified— | face, the singeing of his long hair and mustache, which wen’t be until Dick Turpin is disposed | and the bandages now wound around his head, ey @ dark way. His lips parted and revealed his teeth, and there remained as though frozen, Meg made an impatient gesture, but no reply. for Abe Knowlton’s death, but it was not so easy to convince others. They would have it that he was the murderer, and only that he was | in jail, with several men to guard him, the | Finally Jude added: lynchers would have taken matters into their | “ Dick Turpin lies in bed with a broken head. own hands, He may live, or may not; but if he does, it is The counterfeit sheriff had done wisely when possible that we may make a dollar off of him. he put him under arrest, thus foiling the lynch- obody pays better to a friend near the throne ers, but he might now find it hard work to baffle than criminals; I’ve found that out while faith- the regular engine of law. Sully serving Rob Bradstreet. Turpin must be The first report of the morning was in regard | rich, and if I should find him able to travel, by to him whom men persisted in calling Dick | and by, I'll see what he'll pay for liberty.” Turpin. The unfortunate man had recovered ‘* All these minor schemes mean nothing.” bodily activity, but his mind was a blank, and **They mean money!” drily replied Peterson. the doctors said he would either die from con- ** What is money compared to revenge?” fierce- cussion of the brain or pass through a siege of | ly cried the woman, her thin hands working rain fever. nervously. His burns were painful and disfiguring, but ‘We will have both. Do you hate Bradstreet they were not likely to do any lasting damage, | more than I? No; but I bide my time. Have I he blow on the head was what caused appre- ; not done well to mask my real feelings, and worm my way into his confidence as lve done? an rest assured that he shall squirm in the end! Again the wolfish smile; again the dull sparkle in his evil eyes. Not much longer did Jude remain there. He wanted to see how everything was working around the city, and he went at once to the sher- iff’s office. The counterfeit Bradstreet received him cordially, and Jude condoled with him for | the burn bebind the bandage, and the loss of his No one suspected that the injured man was really Robert Bradstreet. The burning of his . combined to make a disguise, Dick Turpin perceived that he was for the time safe in his assumed role, so far as personal appearance went, Probably his remarkable like- ness to Bradstreet would have saved him any- way; but, as one side of his heavy mustache was _ fine mustache. burned away, he saw fit to have it shaved en- | tirely off, and wore a cloth over one cheek, which He observed that this changed the “ sheriff's ” | 1 ge ag considerably, but, like every one was slightly blistered. His one great danger now was that he would | else, the spy was Hoon hat of the truth, betray his unfamiliarity with police and social Dick Turpin carried himself boldly in his false affairs in the city. He needed to be constantly | character. He had the “nerve” to carry him through, if that was all that was needed, and on his guard, . All this he realized, but not yet did he suspect | trying to rapidly master the details of affairs about him. During the day he sent a messenger to the Le- grand cottage, and received word that Lois was confined to her bed by the effects of the terrible night. He longed to send her word that he was alive and well, but dared not. Now that she knew his real character, would she not despise him? Again, if he revealed bis present pcsition to her, could he convince her that he had acted. for the best in placing her father under arrest? D ply as he loved her, he could not blind him- self to the fact that logic generally falls on deaf ears when addressed to a woman. No, he must keep his secret, and try to work out the tangled web alone; so he contented him- self with sending four men to the house with or- ders to protect the women from possible encmies at peril of their lives. te in the afternoon Dick sat alone in the sheriff’s ofiice, engaged in reading the papers which Bradstreet had carefully arranged in his desk. These gave much necessary information about official affairs, Suddenly there was a rustling of female gar- ments, and he raised hishead, Before him stood a woman, with two children by her side. They were strangers to him, ard he waited to see by the woman’s actions whether he ought to recognize them. The doubt seemed about settled when the woman rushed forward, and, before Dick comprehended her intention, flung her arms about his neck. “Oh! Rob; my dear, dear Rob!” she ex- claimed. The bold outlaw looked alarmed, for once, There are times when man likes to be wooed by woman, and times when he does not, The pres- ent case was of the second kind, Turpin was still in doubt as to just what he ought to do when the woman added: ‘*My dear, dear husband! am I once more with you?” That settled it. Dick hed never heard that the sheriff had a wife, but, if he had a dozen of them, he did rot oop to so far usurp his place as to be burdened with families whose very names were unknown to him. . yt ogee but firmly, removed her arms. - **My good woman,” he said gravely, ‘ there assumed Sheriff Bradstreet’s identity. He was early at his new office, and resolved to coolly grapple with all difficulties; but it was considerably later when Jude Peterson appeared. When Dick cautioned the real sheriff in regard to Jude, in Rattlesnake Gulch, he had known very well what he was talking about, and had libeled the police spy in no way. Now, however, be found himself obliged to show some courtesy to the villain. The real Bradstreet had trusted and even liked Jude— though how he could was a mystery—and if the false Bradstreet showed his aversion, it might cause troubie. No; until he could safely abandon the posi- | tion he had assumed through the force of cir- | cumstances, he must show proper civility in dealing with Jude. Why Jude did not erpese as early as usual may be briefly stated. After breakfast he went to a certain house, and was admitted by a cer- tain Woman, as on a previous occasion to which reference has been made. Between this woman and Jude a likeness existed, though she was by far the more alana She was no longer young, but once she must have been moderately hand- some, Now, she reminded one of a person whose frame has been fed upon, and nearly worn out by unsatisfied love, hatred and ambition—a dangerous trio when they work together. ‘** ve come as I promised, Meg,” said the spy, “but I can’t stop. This isa great time in Lead- ville, and I must be at work.” She made a fierce gesture of disdain, ‘*T thought the city had gone mad, last night.” ** You know the cause, don’t you?” ‘** Bah!—yes, Ido. More fools they; how they howl and cry ata passing breath. Shakespeare knew what he was about when he pictured his typical mobs—the people. But enough of that. hat of our own affdirs?” Jude shook his head. “We must wait awhile.” The women uttered a curse, ‘* Wait!” she repeated, ‘It is always ‘ wait’ with you! Are we never to move? Must Robert ! Bradstreet forever tread these streets, unhum- bled, unstricken?” ** Be calm, Meg, for T assure you I am not to blame. I have done all that I could, and should no longer say ‘ wait,’ were it not that the time is not ripe for action. Just now Bradstreet is the lion of Leadville—more so than Turpin ever was—and if I began work on him, and he gave a tip to the people, it would be just like them to string me up.” * Bah! you're afraid!” ** Afraid or not, ’m no fool,” Jude calmly re- lied. Pe You are all ice; that’s what’s the matter = is some mistake here, I don’t know you.” “i ! | ‘**T am Sheriff Bradstreet,” he stiffly amended, ** ‘Your name is Rob Edwards, and you are my husband,” she persisted, evidently wavering be- tween anger and sorrow, 4 wang My name is not Edwards.” Rob, how can proachful Digs * forgive all, if, indeed, you are to blame—w I never believed. Wi children?” She pushed them forward—one a stout boy of with you.” Aga | five, the other a pretty girl somewhat younger— ** And you're all fire, which is worse.” | but he shook his head obstinately. Perhaps to ‘* [ have the will to take revengeon Bradstreet decline this woman would be to endanger bis’ for that old-time wrong, at any rate, and you | own position, but accept her he would not. He haven't.” : | saw the need of learning who she was, bowever. Tl show him before I’m through with him,” | ‘Madam, there isachair. Will you sit down ou say that?’ was the re- have come to you, ready to ch you reject me—and the darkly peplied the SPY. ‘*My rule is, slow and | and explain? sure. I have come here, got a ¢ position She 5 into the seat. under Bradstreet, won his confidence, and done | ‘I don’t know why you act so strangely,” she something toward feathering my own nest. If Tam slow about g, rest assured that he will squirm all the more when I put the screws | said Pe mired atl ‘* We will try to explain,” grimly replied Dick. “You say that my nameis Edwards. Well, sup- you tell what else you know about me.” _ Her face grew sad and troubled. on. : For once, Jude’s strange smile expressed some- thing; it wasa wolfish craving for revenge ina J “ est . ‘Is this a jest, Rob?” EGomichboo <S (eo) & - . : Poa,