Beadle's Dime Library No. 387 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

na ~ oar oe 4 ee . Mi — . 4 a ray J ie _ a Passing behind this leafy screen, Dark Durg revealed a low, irregular opening, into which he entered, closely followed by Rex Stuart and his companions. ‘Stand still for a moment, while I strike a light,” softly uttered the outlaw, but low though his tones were, they attracted attention, ‘Is that you, old friend,” came a low, weak voice from some little distance beyond. ‘Yes, Dick,” was the quick response, as the * faint glow of a match dimly revealed the tall fizure of the outlaw. ‘I have brought you a visitor from town, who can tell you of the lady who treated you so kindly that night, Be pa- tient one moment, old fellow!” There was a low, eager cry, but though the cave was now dimly visible by the rays of a can- dle, nothing could be seen of the author. Dark Durg lit a second taper, leaving the first standing on a rude table of hewn timber, holding the other in his hand as he spoke: ‘‘] will show you to Dick, Mr. Stuart. Your friends can bear us company to the turn, if ad choose, provided they are willing to come back with me when their curiosity is fully satisfied.” ‘‘They will, of course,” muttered Rex, not a little agitated now that he knew a few minutes would in all probability settle forever the ques- tion of the Gold Phantom, Louis Knapp was using his eyes to the best advantage, looking keenly for any suspicious object or movement; but wholly without suc- Cess. The chamber in which they stood was low, irregular, anything but romantic or comforta- ble. A few skins and hides lay on the rough, uneven floor, others hung on the walls, together with a few Indian weapons. The rude tableand two rough stools comprised all the furniture, ex- cept a small, rusty sheet-iron stove, evidently a relic of prospecting days. Dark Durg led the Way around a sharp turn, through a narrow passage which ran along for several rods, then enlarged into a chamber of nearly the same size as the outer ene. There was even less of comfort in this den, except that the pallet on which a crooked, twisted figure lay, was composed of finer, softer skins, Very much like a ghost Humpy Dick looked by the feeble light of the candle. His face was so thin, the yellow skin clinging tightly to the bones, his eyes so wild, looking larger than ever from his extreme emaciation. “This is Mr, Stuart, Dick,” gently uttered Dark Durg, as he placed the candle on a rocky ledge above the splat. ‘** He will tell you about the good young Cas who helped him gave you from your enemies that night in Denvé@f. nd you will answer his questions the best you can, I hope. If you feel famt—if you want anything that I can get or do for you, shake the can and T’ll come.” j He turned away, gazing inquiringly into the faceof Louis Knapp. That gentleman answered the mute question by turning on his heel and striding back to the.first chamber, followed b the others, leaving Rex Stuart alone wit Humpy Dick. “The lady? Is she well?” eagerly muttered the deformed, Rex Stuart squatted beside the pallet, talking low and earnestly. He was strangely moved b the deep interest which this hapless being evi- dently felt in his loved one, and hoping to the more surely gain his ends, he dwelt on her gen- tleness, her true heart, her sympathy for Humpy Dick. And then, by degrees, he passed on to her sore trials, telling how mercilessly Damon Wingfold was persecuting her through her father, and how nothing but the speedy posses- sion of a large sum ot money could save her from lifelong misery. Little by little his own heart rose and grew lighter as he saw how intensely Humpy Dick was interested, only to fall by degrees as the de- formed spoke eagerly of his buried treasure, tell- ing him to lose no time in unearthing it, to place in her hands as part thanks for her great kind- ness to a hunted, miserable wretch! For the spot he described was the same which had proved worse than barren—the treasure he gave so generously was worse than dross! In his disappointment, Rex Stuart said as much, and even in his own strong agitation, he felt a thrill of pity for Sas ‘ Dick, who seemed fairly stupefied by the sudden revelation. He panted and moaned faintly, repeating over and over again the words he had spoken before. He could not believe—or was it but a pare of the cunning game begun by Dark Durg? Was this but a continuation of that devilish scheme to draw the Wingfolds into a snare? He sqnatted there beside the deformed, hear- ing naught of his idle maunderings, trying to clear his own brain, now so sadly confused by the utter destruction of his last faint hope. Steadily bis anger toward the Ishmaelite of the Hills grew stronger, until it broke forth in a deep, grating curse. ‘Dark Durg must know! I'll tear the secret from his lips, if I have to tear his tongue out with it! Pu—” He was risin fell upon his floor. Dead] to his feet when a heavy weight ck, crushing him to the rock hands closed about his throat, ! flitted across his fading vision, until that hoarse, vicious snarling died away, and— When sight and senses returned, Rex Stuart found himself being dragged into the outer chamber. He tried to cry aloud for help, but a cold, merciless laugh answered him, and a shiver crept over his frame as he saw Louis Knapp and his mates lying on the floor, motionless! ‘*Dead! murdered!” he gasped, faintly, his brain reeling. ** Ay! dead enough!” harshly laughed Dark Durg, kneeling on his chest. ‘* Hold yourself lucky if your end comes as sudden and painless!” CHAPTER XVI. A REMARKABLE COINCIDENCE. “SATAN grill that fellow for supper! why don’t he show himself?” For the hundredth time since the sun crossed the meridian and marked the change of day, Damon i erm gave an angry snar! as he cast a fruitless glance around in quest of Lop-eared Ose. Though the Droop-eared Daisy had sung his little song under compulsion, es had stuck re- markably close to the truth, and there is little peopel y to be added to that explanation as to how and why the party under command of Damon Wingfold came to be there, so near the valley in which the Golden Phantom—a phan- tom, indeed !—was buried. ** Time enough, gov’nor,” lazily drawled Ear], a cigar between his teeth. ‘*The Daisy is all right. He’s working for wayes, but he’ll do his level best to earn them.” ** He'd sell us out for an extra dollar!” snarled the old man, ** But who’s to offer it? Not the other party. They don’t like Lop-eared Mose, for reasons. And that’s just why I feel so confident that the honest rascal will do his best for us,” laughed the son, with a provoking carelessness, With a surly growl, the elder villain turned away. He dared not quarrel with his son, whom he found foolishly inclined to take the reins of management into his own hands. He could not endure having his gnawing anxiety made a mocking jest of. There was so much at stake! He had risked all on this venture! Failure for him, success for Rex Stuart, one or either meant the escape of his hated half-brother from the toils he had so cunningly cast around him. Left by himself, Earl Wingfold grew serious enough, He, too, was wondering why Lop-ear- ed Mose delayed his report so long. He was also mentally discussing the chances for or against treachery on the part of the ex-convict, and though reason told him the Droop-eared Daisy had every incentive to remain faithful to their cause, certain doubts and fears troubled him far more keenly than he chose to betray to his parent. t was growing dusk, and still no signs of Mose Sawyer. Damon Wingfold snarled and growled and cursed. Ear] laughed and mocked and yawned. Both were uneasy, though one succeeded in hiding every trace from all save himself. And he was the one who first reached his feet with a cry of mingled relief and anger as one of the men eaclainae: ** Somebody comin’ over yender! Foot-back— reckon it’s Mose!” But he was mistaken in his reckoning, as a moment later showed. It was not Lop-eared Tose, but another of the party, one so unob- trusive, so insignificant in appearance and man- ner, so modest and retiring, that his temporary absence had passed unheeded. ‘‘ Have you seen anything of Sawyer?” sharp- ly demanded Earl Wingfold, as he met the fellow, who jerked off his hat, half-bowing, half-cower- ing before the young blood, ** Sorry I hain’t, boss,” was the meek nse, those gray, shifty eyes ‘en snatching a Slates glance into the face of his employer. ‘‘ Where the deuce have you been? What do you mean by sewing about in the open, when orders are to keep close and make little sign un- til Lop-eared Mose brings in a report?” More humbly than ever the little man drooped his head, and his voice was hardly audible as he ventured to mutter: 7 ‘* I see’d somethin’ over yender like a smoke, boss, an’ so, I didn’t think it’d be sech a mighty resk ef I was keerful, while mebbe I might dis- kiver summat wu’th ‘the while. An’ so, boss, ef I ain’t takin’ too much onto my own self, which the land knows I don’t want, why—” ‘*‘ Drop that infernal whining, and speak out white!” sharply interposed Earl, one hand fall- ing heavily on the fellow’s shoulder. ‘t You saw asmoke? You went to trace itup? What did you discover?” ‘*Was fooled in the smoke, boss, sence it turned out to be a sort o’ streak cloud, like—” A curse parted Earl’s lips, and the little man cowered still more, lifting one elbow just as a boy does when he anticipates a cuff from one whom he dare not openly resist. And much in the same fashion, too, came his hasty excuse for a reprieve: ‘* No fire—but camp, over thar!” None too soon. Earl Wingfold held his hand, and the httle man appeared to breathe more freely, though his tongue still seemed more than growing tighter and tighter until a million stars ‘ he could manage with ease or expertness, ‘ : = ‘ Dark Durg, the Ishmael of the Hills. ZO Still, by dint of questions and sifting a few kernels from a vast amount of useless chaff, the following facts were agreed upon. There was another partyin the neighborhood. That party, like themselves, had gone into an early camp. Like them, too, there was little straying away from the camp, little to betoken a band of hun- ters or fishers. Indeed, to a suspicious mind, it was not difficult.to imagine them rather anxious to avoid observation. One thing more—and this assertion brought sharp ejaculations from the lips of both father and son, while the same wild suspicion was read one by the other as their glowing eyes met —there was a young woman traveling with the arty ! Pee What did she look like? What was the color of her eyes, her hair? Describe her as closely as you can, my fine fellow!” hurriedly uttered Earl, his face flushed and his dark eyes aglow with an evil light. ** Waal, boss, I wouldn’t like to say fer sure, bein’ as I never was no great han’ at takin’ stock o’ the wimmen,” drawled the little man, dubi- ously scratching the tip of his nose. é ‘* Was she tall or short, young or middle- aged, a lady, or a common woman? You can tell that much, can’t you?” snapped Damon Winegfold, not a whit less excited t was his hopeinl offspring. **She was what I'd call a right smart chunk of a gal,” was the deliberate response, each word being weighed before utterance. ‘‘She wasn’t so tall as some, nur yit she wasn’t quite as stumpy as others I’ve see’d, while I don’t reckon she was so overly old, though mebbe—” Damon Wingfold gave vent to a snarlin curse of utter dioceses and fled. Earl frown checking that lazy flow of words that committed the author to nothing positive. ** You can guide me Within sight of this camp, if necessary? Fe A don’t reckon but what I mought, e — ‘Go get yourself something to eat, and hold yourself ready to act as guide if I decide to pay our neighbors a visit. And, by the way, you needn't try to tell everybody in camp just what you have seen. Time is short, and men are mor- tal. Get out, will you?” ‘* Waal, ef you say so, boss, an’ I ain’t—” Earl Wingfold paused not to hear the re- mainder, but hastened to look up his worthy sire finding him in the one small tent which they ha broucht along for their especial benefit. ‘What did you find out, sonny?’ the old man eagerly asked, as Earl yt 2 the oa. behind him and sunk down on the bundle of dry grass which was to serve as seat a day and mattress by night. ‘I couldn’t stand it any longer. It was all I could do to keep from taking the whin- ing scoundrel by the throat and shaking his in- formation out in a lump!” ** That there is a camp near us, with a girl or a woman along: nothing more definite than that. But, daddy, what if it should be?” Damon Wingfold shook his head, with a short, hard laugh. What would bring her out “Ts it likely? here?” ‘* What brought us out? Interest im that infer- nal Rex Stuart! Perhaps she heard of our fol- lowing him. Perhaps she has—bah!” with an impatient flinging out of one hand. ‘ Why sur- mise, when the truth is so easy to get at? Pll rn the facts before the night is many hours older! “Tf itshould be! If the devil has thrown such a glorious opportunity in our way, Earl,” mut- tered the old sinner with glowing eyes, ‘‘ it would mg worse than a sin if. we didn’t make the most of it! The younger rascal laughed shortly. Vague though the meaning seemed on the surface, right well he knew what Damon Wingfold was think- ing of. And then, drawing closer together talking in low, guarded tones, they discussed the matter until the shuffling footsteps of the man bringing them their supper, warned them to cease for the time being. . ass after this meal was finished, Earl Wingfoldsought out the little man, Giles ai, gi by name, and drawing him aside, talked in whispers for some few minutes, ending by slip- ping out of camp without attracting attention rom any of the men. They rode along through the shadows of night for some rods at a slow rate, until satisfied that they were out of car-shot, then touched up their animals, dashing along merrily, Gregery a few paces in advance. ‘Keep straight on until as near as it is pru- dent to go with our horses,” Earl Wingfold said. However clumsy he might be with his tongue, Gregory was apparently at home as a guide, — keeping on at a steady rate, turning now to the left, now to the right whenever occasion de- manded, without the slightest hesitation or ap- pearance of doubt. It was plain enough he had made a careful study of the intervening ground during his scout. ‘** T don’t reckon mebbe we'd best go so mighty much closter, boss,” he muttered, drawing rein near a point. of rocks and scattered bowlders. ANCE (E(0) 200 S | : | }