Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 385 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

: SPN PS. OL. Ms - = SS Fas eee a ee are < _sensible, and I trust = wr) ae = su Sk —~- Wild ‘Dick i u a er ee —-— -—— eee —_—— “pin, the Lion of Leadville. ‘*T regard it as anything else, but am waiting | but a shiver ran over her, and she felt as though | want to care for him, see that he wants for no- to hear from you. Tell me about Rob Edwards —and yourself. Whoare you? Where are you from? When did you know Rob Edwards?” ‘* Why need I tell all this?” she plaintively asked. ‘* Believe me, it is necessary. Goon!” She sighed deeply, and then began. The boy realized that his mother was in trouble, and that the ‘ sheriff” was the cause of her sorrow, so he doubled his tiny fists and looked at him most belligerently. ‘*? met you at Batesville, Arkansas, seven years ago,” the woman explained. ‘I was then Nibylla Marcy, the daughter of a poor but honest farmer. You came with plenty of money and seemed to be a gentleman of leisure. We met loved and were married;and after that we lived together three years. These are the children born to us during that time. ‘‘Then you disappeared as completely as though the ground hud swallowed you up, leav- ing no word forme. Imourned for you as dead until a few weeks ago, when a wandering neigh- bor told me he had seen you here, where you lived as Sheriff Bradstreet. I could not believe that you had willingly deserted me, and, strong in the faith that there was a mystery which could be explained to our mutual satisfaction, I came to join you. Rob, I know that you will not say I am unwelcome!” CHAPTER IX. RED KIT REAPPEARS, THE woman’s voice was pathetic in the ex- treme, and, whatever were the facts of the case, he was of the opinion that she was sin- cere; that she believed she had found the lost ~ Rob Edwards. Dick Turpin was now in a quandary. He knew almost as much about Sheriff Brad- street's life as that gentleman himself did, but there was a period of some years, exactly coin- ciding with what Sibylla had said, when he had lost all trace of him. Had he then been in Arkansas, and there met and inarried SibyHa, or was it only another case of resemblance, and Rob Edwards a man with whom he had nothing to do? If Sibylla’s face and manners had been against her, Dick would then and there have avowed that he never saw her, and, ordering her from the office, forbade her under penalty of arrest to molest him further; but her ap- pearance was in her favor, and he had no de- sire to deal harshly with a worthy woman. But what was he to do? He could not, even indirectly, acknowledge that she was his wife. For several seconds he sat in silence, debat- ing this perplexing question, while the little woman watched him without speaking. Finally he answered. ‘This is something which needs time and careful attention, and I must ask you to go to a hotel and remain for a few days. Just now I am too busy to look into the matter,” *** Look into it!’ Do you need to investi- gate to know whether you are willing to re- ceive your wife?” she reproachfully asked. ** You don’t understand,” said Dick, desper- ately. ‘‘ I am—a—that is—peculiarly situated, and, just now, I can’t acknowledge anybody as my wife.” So said the Lion of Leadville, but, the next instant, he felt like kicking himself across the room for a blockhead. It was an awkward speech at the best, and Sibylla’s eyes dilated with sudden fear. ‘* Rob, have you another wife?’ she faintly asked. ‘7 ‘“No; great heavens! nol What put that idea into your head? Rest easy on that score. But, you see, the life of a public man is a peculiar one, and that is why [ asx for time in this case. My dear madam, you look er will prove so. Now, will you go toa hotel, register as Mrs. Sibylla Marcy, and remain perfectly silent to all until J can—a—settle this case?” ‘*] don’t see why I need to?” *¢ You shall know later.” ** But I have only a little money.” ' “J will give you all—double what you need.” She was still reluctant, but, as he persisted, she finally yielded, giving as a reason that her love for him would lead her to obey where her judgment protested. She then tried to exact an admission of the truth of her statements, and to have him notice the children, but Turpin had to craw the line somewhere, and he would not go as for as that. Sibvlla sadly agreed to go to the hotel, and, ratil he gave her leave to speak, to remain s*'ont on all these po and Dick had just breathed a sigh of relief when Jude Peterson en- tered. Tho y glanced from the woman to his sup- posed chiet and back again, Women were not unusual visitors in the office, but Dick saw a shade of suspicion on the fellow’s face. He determined to rush matters. ““Mr. Peterson, will you take these people to the Occidental Hotel?” he briskly asked, Jude turned toward Sibylla, but, as she caught his eye, she saw there something which made her shrink back; why, she could not have told, —— —— = . i menaced by a rattlesnake. ‘* Never mind!” she said, hurriedly. find my way alone. I will not trouble any one. I will go now.” She gathered her children closer to her, with ‘*T can hing, and—to be with him!” Her manner was humble, and her speech broken, but, with man’s stupidity in such cases, the hearer did not yet fully understand. ‘This is all Greek to me,” he admitted. ‘Is the instinct common to all living creatures when | it Dick Turpin ycu are talking about? Why do danger is near, and moved toward the door. ou want to nurse the fellow? Possibly,” here Jude’s lips parted in his nameless smile, which | his voice grew hard and severe, ‘not content was now almost a sneer, but he fell back and bowed politely. The woman and her children ponved out of the office, and then the spy turned is gaze on Turpin. ‘“ Who are they?’ he bluntly asked. ‘‘ A lady I knew some years ago,” carelessly replied the Lion. ‘‘She will stop awhile in the city, and be under my charge. Any news, Jude?” Jude knew of none, and, the conversation thus turned, Dick managed to keep it away from Sibylla until he could send the spy on an errand, Oncemore alone, he devoted some time to considering the new complication. It seemed that, in assuming Bradstreet’s iden- tity, he had assumed more than he knew. As modest and gentle as Sibylla appeared, she might yet be the means of getting him into serious difficulty, and he wished that she had de- layed her appearance. Whether she was the legal wife of the sheriff, he did not know, and, in any case, he did not want the settling of the matter. If Bradstreet and Edwards were one, it looked as though he must have a motive for deserting her, and it might yet appear that she was not as meek as she seemed. Dick Turpin felt troubled. The outlook was not favorable. He had done all that was possi- ble during the day to turn public sentiment in Legrand’s favor, but, despite this, it had grown stronger against him. Rejecting all other theo- ries, the people would have it that the miner had deliberately shot Knowlton. Even Dick was puzzled to account for the man’s taking off. e had heard no revolver- shot except his own, but, in the confusion, this was not so very strange. His theory was that, when Bradstreet fell, his revolver had fallen, discharged itself, and killed Knowlton. This weapon, however, had myste- riously disappeared. It could not be found to operate for, or against, Legrand, though Turpin knew that the sheriff was holding it in his hand when he fell. The road-agent would have liberated Legrand, but there were tworeasons why he shoulda not. First, Lois was sick, unable to leave her room, and he feared that if the people of Leadville knew all, they would, in their fierce wrath, for- get that she was a woman and visit others’ sins upon her. Secondly, Turpin had himself placed Legrand under arrest, and stationed a strong guard over him, and he had no means of overcoming this spar, The dashing band which had followed im no longer existed. The Lion of Leadville now had only his own efforts to rely upon. He was thinking of all this when, once more there wus a rustling at the door and he looked up. When he did so his blood began to bound fiercely through his veins, and he had never been more the * Lion” of Leadville than then. Red Kit, the Wasp, stood before him! Yes, there she was, but very different from the old Kit. Her brick-red hair was in wild disorder; her picturesque dress soiled and t rn; her face pale and old of SEPOTANES; and her eyes burning as though with fever. : This—this was the person to whom Dick Tur- in owed all his troubles; the massacre of his and, the illness of Lois and the destruction of his dearest hopes; and it was only with a mighty effort that he kept his bands away from her. Fierce was his desire for vengeance, and he grasped the edge of the desk as though he would rend the hard wood into splinters, Yet he remembered his*fictitious character, and felt that he had never needed greater self- control than then. With a great endeavor he calmed his face and met her gaze steadily. She was looking at him doubtfully, and she now spoke slowly: ‘* You don’t seem glad to see me.” ‘* Have you more news?” ‘No, sir.” ‘¢ Well, what do you want then?’ His voice was brusque; almost harsh; and her fingers worked nervously on the gaudy shawl whose respectability had forever vanish- ed. She might have been a tramp, so far as ap- pearances went, and a most wretched, haggard one at that. ‘T_T have come to ask a favor.” ‘*Tndeed! What is it?” ; Wonderingly, Dick looked at the girl. He was now wholly himself, and took care that his voice should not awaken old recollections in her mind, even while he wondered what meant her trembling lips and desolate appearance, Her gaze foll to the floor. **T want to—to take care of Dick Turpin!” ‘* What 2” The road-agent had never been more astonish- “T hear that he is sick,” she explained, shrink- ingly, “‘and in danger of death. I want—I : ‘ with betraying him, you want to be where you can administer a dose of poison.” Red Kit burst into tears, and then fell on her knees at the supposed sheriff's feet. ‘Pity me! pity me!” she moaned. ‘I did be- tray him, but I love him!—ZJ love him!” Dick Turpin started back. Passionate, vehe- ment and piteous was this declaration, cnd he was wholly unprepared for it. That Red Kit had loved him once he did not doubt, but, after what she had done, it seemed as though only the bitterest hatred could remein in her heart, ‘You are mad!” he muttered. ‘“‘T was mad,” she sobbed. ‘Mad and as wicked as perdition itself. I loved him, and I betrayed him to death!” Still kneeling, she rocked hersélf back and forth, sobbing and moaning with a grief which almost approached frenzy. ‘* Well, you ought to have thought of that be- fore,” harshly replied Turpin. ‘*T was mad, mad!” ‘“‘ Better go to an asylum. We have no use for you here, Let you nurse the sick man? Not much! I would just assoon trust a grizzly there, Ishall be obliged to decline your offer. You are no longer useful to us, and, as even police officers despise traitors, the sooner you get away from here the better. Don’t expect us to be your friends; we don’t admire your sort!” Tis words were not harsher than his manner, nor was his heart tenderer than either. As he remembered the misery the girl had brought upon him all his olden liking for her vanished, and he regretted that she was not a man, upon whom he might wreak his vengeance. True, she suffered now, but every moan was music to his r. She did not suffer more than Lois. ‘Oh! sir,” she implored, ‘‘ have mercy on me. I am a miserable, wicked woman! I betrayed the man I loved, and he is now sick, perhaps dying. Let me goto him! Let me make amends, as far as I can, for my sin! Oh! sir, I love him better than my own life—don’t refuse me; don’t!” Deep was her sorrow, but to Dick Turpin’s mind came a picture of his slaughtered band; of Lois and his shattered hopes; and he coldly, harshly replied: ‘““There is the door, woman, and there lies your way! Go, and never let me see your face again. Go!” ‘No, no; not that!” she cried. ‘‘ Kill me, if ou will, but don’t send me aver, without seein im. Take me to his side, and then—then I wil thank you to kill me!” ‘Tf you want to die, look up some survivor of Dick Turpin’s slaughtered band. Iam told that, though seven men died in thecave, a few escaped. Go to one of those survivors and tell him that your hands are red with his comrades’ blood, and, I think, it will be in his heart to kill you. I, however, am not a butcher of women. T only ask you to go. Once more—there is the door, and your way lies over the threshold. I will not tolerate your presence any longer, for the blood of murdered men is on your hands. There 1s the door! Go!” CHAPTER X. THE SPY UNDER THE WINDOW. Dick TURPIN’s voice was inexorable. With a beavy sigh Red Kit arose. Her tears no longer fell, and she had grown calmer, for the quiet of despair had fallen upon her, She knew, at last, that further words were hopeless. Secretly, she resolved to come again, hoping to find the supposed sheriff in a kinder mood, but, just then, she must accept his verdict. ‘*T want to say one thing more before I go,” she observed. never looking at him. ‘* Beware how you admit strangers to see Dick Turpin!” ‘Why so?” ao A ‘« Because his lieutenant, Duke Hallock, is one of those who still live, and he will have it that Dick betrayed the band; that it was he who gave you information.” ‘* Indeed!” ‘“‘T have told him the truth, but he won't be- lieve me. He thinks I am trying to sbield Dick, and that the captain’s injuries were the result of accident, not what you did to him willingly.” ** Hallock is a fool!” taxidy exclaimed Turpin. ‘‘ He is like a madman because the band is destroyed, and very bitter toward Dick. Ho swears that if the captain recovers, he will find and kill him. I fear he will force his way to where Dick is, and murder him.” ; “Never fear; I'll take care of that. And the rest of the survivors of the band—are they of Hallock’s mind?” ath. : ‘““No: he is alone in his way of thinking. Lasso Lije, Revolver Rube and Bowie Ben all believe in Dick, especially Ben. He has quar- reled with father on the subject and left us, Father—Duke Hallock—is the only one you need to fear. He is bold and cunning, and , is a i it m ( S.C (E(6) .00! 5 . Soi ms