Beadle's Dime Library No. 387 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

~~ SE > vy . i? * ture that needed no interpretation. ‘‘I kin work the racket my own self, But don’t come sneakin’ round me fer—” ; ‘‘1Tain’t that, Mose,” quickly interposed one of the party, though still keeping? at a respectful distance from that dreaded fist. ‘ We're willin’ to do all you say, but we didn’t want you to go into a job with both eyes shet. Humpy Dick is— ‘“More wu’th then you think, mebbe,” and Tose nodded decisively. ‘‘I knowed him afore I did you, heap time ago. I know he’s got what'll be wuth money to us all, an’ that some- thin’ Pm goin’ to hev if I hev to punch his ticket fer over the divide!” ‘** Tf you say so, boss,” ** Shell we give him the nipper?” added another, crooking his arm meaningly as they silently stole along the deserted street. ' ‘‘Notcf I kin git at the goody easier,” was the brief reply. ‘* You jest keep an eye open, an’ come up only ef I give the word.” ! During this bit of by-play, Humpy Dick had passed by two saloons without even glancing in at their open doors as he passed along. His steps were quickened, and there was something in his manner that spoke of a well-defined purpose, Lop-eared Mose recalled his mention of an ex- ected friend, and fearing to lose further time, he strode on and soon A are his intended vic- i ‘ith a cheerful laugh: a Tounte to give your old pard the dirty shake, did ye, Humpy? Was that right white, think? Was it the way you'd like to treat a critter who's in astrange place, with never another pard to help him git away with a few bottles o’ pure bug-juice sech as you don’t run acrost twice in a lifetime? An’ I’ve got that very same, Humpy, lad! Got it in a snug little room whar we kin drink until we’re stone blind, an’ then go to bed with our boots on, ef we like! How's that, pard?” : Contrary to his expectation, Humpy Dick re- sisted his grasp. “‘Not_now—thoe timo’s come for me to go back. He'll be looking and agp why I stay so long. He'll begin to frown and his face wili grow darker, his eyes will glitter with the terrible light, and he'll think something has hap- pened—think the evil demons have done harm to Humpy—and he’ll come here to punish them. They'll see him—the bloodhounds’ll see him and try to drag him away to the rope! They couldn’t do it, but he might get hurt while chok- ing the life out of them. I must go, I tell you! He’s looking for me now!” . ‘““They’s room fer him too, pard,” lightly jaughed Moses, though he cast a swift, appre- hensive glance around them as though expecting ‘to catch a glimpse of this mysterious friend. | He saw only his own allies, skulking along in the dense shadows cast by a line of dingy, light- less houses. . : Humpy Dick shook his head, pressing on in the direction of the open country beyond the limits of the city. ‘‘Time’s come—he'll be looking for me,” he muttered, evidently with but that one thought in his poor brain just then. ‘‘ He'll look for me, and they’ll hang him like a dog!” ‘We won't let’em do it, pard. Dm a chief, myself, an’ they ain’t nobody in this burg as ‘ll look crooked af your frind. I know him like a book, an’ come to think of it, I do reckon he’s back thar at my room waitin’ fer us both! I jest knows he is! Le’s goseecf—" But Humpy Dick shook his head positively. ‘You don't now him, and I'll not tell you. He has no friends but poor me—poor? It’sa lie!” with a pitiful fierceness, as he crew his crooked figure more nearly erect. “I'm rich— rich enough to buy a dozen towns cach one double the size of Denver! I know where there is gold enough to fill a train of freight cars, and it’s all mine—all mine, now!” ae “Ef you don’t fergit whar you've hid it, ard,” ventured Mose, his eyes keenly alert. ‘I A idonce. Madea big cache, an’ trusted to mem’ry fer findin’ it when I wanted. Durned fool me fer not puttin’ of it down on paper in good black ink! Don’t you be no sech fool, pard!” Humpy Dick laughed softly, one hand steal- ing up to his breust, to fumble and fondle as though caressing a treasure. ed Mose - caught his breath quickly, his httle eyes glow- ing redly. He believed that his first suspicions were correct. That Humpy’ Dick really held the clew to a long lost eache, and that he carried the clew about with him—that it was hidden in his bosom at that very instant. If the idiot would only listen to reason! If that powerful thirst for liquor would only re- turn again! : ut osanéetly it was dead. Humpy Dick positively declincd to yield to the adroit pictures of ken bliss as drawn by Moses, all the time pressing on toward the level sandy waste encircling the Pearl of the Desert. And then, with more frequent glances about him, the des- perado resolved to gain his ends at all risks, oS , ef you won't, you won't, an’ that settles it, Humpy,” he said in a tone of off-hand good-humor. “It’s a durned shame, all the same, to make a pore critter git drunk all by his ‘ lonesome self! Think better of it, pard. Come an’ jest take one smell o’ the honey-dew, an’ ———$—$K rr aaa es 4 . - aad Dark Durg, the Ishmael of the Fills. | then ef you don’t like the flavor, I'll say never a word aginst your goin’ on home this very night.” ‘* It’s time—hell be looking for me,” was the old tune, as the deformed cast a swift, almost apprehensive glance about him. ‘‘ He’s already looking! I can feel his; presence, and I must—” Lop-eared Mose was also glancing about them, and seeing nothing, he resolved to waste no more time, but made a quick grasp at the bosom of the cripple, crying excitedly: Look out, pard! Thar’s a centipede crawlin’ in—” He tore open the rags that covered the sunken chest, but before he could do or say more, Humpy Dick gave a shrill yell of angry fright, OES aside with a force sufficient to tear uimself from that grasp. “Hands off! you shall not tear my treasure away! It has cost blood enough—don’t make me—- Robbery! murder!” With a savage curse Lop-eared Mose: leaped after his intended victim, murder in his redly- glowing eyes. As nimbly Humpy Dick avoided his first rush, his right hand lifting to his bosom and then shooting out with a bared blade glim- mering in the moonlight. The same light was shining on the face of the desperado, and it was whet he saw imprinted on those rugged features that led Humpy Dick to send forth those thrilling cries on the night air. ‘** Dry up, cuss ye fer a howlin’ ae grated Lop-eared Mose as lre leaped upon the cripple, his sinewy fingers itching to grasp his throat and stifle those yells, even though murder should fol- low, ‘‘ I don’t mean ye no harm, butef— Satan burn ye alive! DPve got it, hard!” Viciously Humpy Dick thrust out his long arm, and the keen steel made itself felt as Lop- eared Mose sought to twist his body out of line. And believing himself death-stricken, he reeled back, dizzily. Yet he saw Humpy Dick, apparently forget- ting his fears in a sudden lust for blood, crouch- ing as though fora fiual leap and attack. He fought off that sickening sensavion, and cried out savagely: **Down him, lads! Shut off his wind, ef you cain’t—” This was a waste of breath, as it proved. The three roughs, though evidently convinced their chief was for once “ seeking wool in a hog-pen,” were still too true to him to hang back when the moment came for prompt action. At the first move made by Lop-eared Mose, they left their cover and ran forward to play their part in the game, and before Humpy Dick could follow up his attack, they pounced upon him, crushing him to the earth despite his furious struggles. Twice he struck out savagely with his armed hand, feeling the steel enter flesh, only to have the blade torn from his grasp and hard, sicken- ing blows come thick and fast upon his head and body. Fainter grew his struggles, and less dis- tinct his cries of murder, until— ‘** Let up, you infernal scoundrels! Would you murder the poor devil?’ came a clear, ringing shout, as a man leaped toward the scene, CHAPTER II. BREAKERS ALL AROUND, *‘It can do no good. It will only make it harder for us both to bear, Rex. It must be— there is no other way.” With a desperate calmness the words were ut- tered, but even then the girl dust not, could not lift her eyes to meet the burning gaze which she felt was fixed upon her pale face. ‘* Harder, for me—but 10u, precious?” Even as the words passed his lips Rex Stuart would. have recalled them, for he felt rather than saw the bitter pain they gave, or rather the tone in which they were uttered. Precious Wingfold sunk back in the buggy seat, covering her face with her little gloved hands for a mo- ment. Then, with a sound that was almost a sob, she turned toward her hot-blooded lover. ‘‘Harder than death fer me, Rex, though there is a sneer in your voice as you ask the uestion! Oh, Rex! surely it is bitter enough or me, Without your scorn and angry sus- icion?” ‘* Tt was an almost deserted suburb of the city through which they were slowly piding, and the full moon was just then passing beneath a fleecy cloud. Rex Stuart begged forgiveness, as only a lover knows how, Indeed it was hard, as they both knew, and little wonder that Rex Stuart, young, hot-blood- ed, strong and passionate by nature, almost fiercely rebelled against submission. Two years ago he first met_Precious Wing- fold, only child of Maurice Wingfold, at that date a somewhat noted character in the finan- cial circles of Denver. Not that he was so very wealthy, though many gave him credit for a snug fortune, still more snugly invested where it was safe enough from any wave of specula- tion; rather from the very audacity of his operations, plunging blindly in where much heavier balla speculators dared not tread, even on tiptoe. And not alone for that, if the whole truth is to be told. Some said there was ‘‘a screw loose” in his mental machinery. Some that he had never fairly recovered from the bite of the ‘gold 3 snake” of the time that gave birth to Denver when the ‘‘Cherry Creek” fever was at its hight. Some would wink and nod and whisper vaguely of a dark and tragic episode of cho early days, the ghosts of which were driving Maurice Wingfold on and on to bis utter ruin, and still more vague hints floated around of a mysterious treasure, of a lost cache, of an encr- mous fortune which Maurice Wingfold hed sworn should be his though he spent every dol- lar and every day of his life in gaining it. All this Rex Stuart heard, more or less dis- tinctly, in those first days of love—for his was me of those not fabulous cases of “love at first sight. He had returned to Denver from an extended orospecting trip in the distant mountains. He had made barely sufficient to refit and pass a few days in idleness, and it had been his inten- tion to at once procure his necessaries and turn again to the rugged hills where he felt a fortune was awaiting his efforts, He saw her first cn the night he attended the play at the Music Hall—this was before the Governor of the State gave to his pet city the magnificent Opera House that now bears his name—to kill an evening and smile at the ambitious efforts of a native bard who sought popular favor by painting in gorgeous colors the career of a *‘ poor but honest” prespector, Fate placed Rex Stuart directly behind the seat occupied by Precious Winefold and a Jady fmend, and it wos her subdued Lut burn- ing speeches that. changed the prospector into a clerk. Only one who had suffered bitterly through the mad, peculiar, yet ever-bright delusions of the prospector, could have uttered those comments. And when the fair maiden, all unconscious how breathlessly the tall, ath- letic, handsome stranger was drinking in her words, affirmed that-no woman who was made of more earthy quelities than a saint cr a martyr, should ever link her life and fortunes with those of a gold-hunter, Rex Stuart finally: relinguished his long-cherished dreams of ‘‘a rich strike.” Within a week he had learned the name and situation .in life of his fate. She was unmarried, heart-free for all the world. could cay. She was an only child, and with her father lived alone in a modest, yet commodious house a little removed from the business portion of the city. He also Icarned of a cousin to Maurice Wing- fold, also a widower with a single child, son some years older than Precious. Ard at tke same time he learned that apparently there was little love lost Letween the two families, If not actual enemies, the mcn were certainly not - friends. Through a friend who had known his family in the deys before Cherry Creek set the world afire, Rex ftuart not only secured a comfert- able situation in one of the banks, but was introduced to Maurice Wingfold and his daugh- ter. Though the tall, thin, nervous acting speculator never gave him much encouragement Rex was by far too deeply in love to be abashed by silent hints, even though they came frcm the parent of his idol, and then— Maurice Wingfold growled and frowned snd snapped his disapprclation when the lovers went to him and told their happy agreemert, which only lacked his approval. Ungrecicusl though it came, this was given them in the end, for Maurice Wingfold loved Precious far mere than he loved all the world besides—after his own hard, selfish nature. . She was too ycung to marry, he said, end they must wait. Rex found that waiting very hard, but Precious shyly laughed him into good humor again, and then—then— It was the old sweet story. Their love was as fenuine and pure asitwas earnest, and they were content with seeing each other every even- ing, content to wait until the time should come as set by the father. But then, clouds began to make their appearance, Rex Stuart had heard of the periodical vanish- ments of the speculator, and knew that he bed remained in town much longer than usual this time. He could guess the reason, Matters were foing rough with Maurice Wingfold, and he was lcsing rather than raking money. It was just at this juncture that Rex Stvart was sent on iImportant-business to Chicago, con- nected with the bank. <A successful mission promised him promotion and an increase of salary, and it was with a light heart that he bid Precious gecd-by. He did succeed, ard he lest very few moments after his return before ke sought out his loved one. Only to be refused admittance! To have the door closed in his face, after being told that Miss Wingfold could see no one, After he recovered frcm his surprise, he re- turned and forced his way into the house, de- manding an interview with Precicus Wirefold. She came, eobhing, pale, worn, but little Letter than the ghost of her usual sclf. Withbcr came Maurice Wingfold, even morealtered in cutward appearance, and seeming Jike a man just risen from his grave. And though he lay back in his chair through all that stormy interview, shiver- ing, starting at every sound from without, Maurice Wingfold would permit no promise « a future meeting, woukl only say that all was at comirebooks