Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 389 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

withered and weazen specimen of his kind, look- ed as though he was thoroughly ashamed of the entire outfit. It would have been the opinion of an unpre- judiced observer that any road-agents who could e mean enough to hold up such a hearse as that must be very hard up indeed, Perhaps they were. The man who hailed the driver was tall and dark-featured, with a commanding tone of voice, and his hail was backed by the persuasive ap- pearance of a Winchester rifle that was leveled at the driver. It was not yet dusk, and he could clearly be seen as he stepped out from a group of pinyon trees near the side of the road. Just behind him stood another man, somewhat younger than the other and much lighter—the featherweight of the road-agent partnership. He also carried a rifle, but was not threaten- ing anybody, though he held it so that it could be instantly brought into action. Qn the features of each was a rather comical leck-of disgust as his eyes rested on the anti- quated contraption which passed for a stage. It was as if an eager fisherman, supposing himself to have hooked a fine bass, should pull up a toadfish. Yet there were rich pickings to be had occa- sionally by gentlemen in their line of business, even on the San Miguel road and in that un- promising conveyance. The driver of the vehicle pulled up his horses immediately. Both he and they seemed to have no objection to the interruption that had occurred. The horses were naturally glad enough to cease dragging the unwieldy contraption over that rough road, and the driver was doubtless ready to welcome any sort of a relief from the monot- ae of the trip. s for the passengers, they did not evince the least disposition to have the so-called hearse con- verted into a hearse in reality. Not one of them showed any anxiety to do anything that might cause him to be converted into a corpse. There were three of them—only three—and the highway robber who could expect to make a for- tune by fleecing that party must have been ver- dant indeed. One was a poverty-stricken Mexican, silent and ey unconcerned. Another was a drummer, spare of flesh, sandy- shaired and hungry-eyed, whose only capital . doubtless consisted in his cheek. The third was a middle-aged man, stout of frame, heavy of face, and largely bearded, who might possibly be a substantial ranchman, but whose appearance gave no indication of wealth. When the stage was halted, the drummer was the only one of the party who had enough cour- age or curiosity to even glance out of the open window. **Tt’s Colonel Double-edge and his partner,” said he. ‘This is the second time I’ve been caught in a stage that those chaps have struck.” ‘“That’s a queer name,” observed the big man who looked like aranchman. ‘Is Double-edge the man’s real name?” **T don’t suppose it’s the hame he was chris- tened by, if he ever had the luck to be christen- ed, and I don’t suppose he was ever any sort of a colonel anywhere. That is only one of the names he goes by, and I fudge it is a kind of fancy handle. Another of his names, as I have heard it, is Devil Dick, and that suits him so well that you don’t catch me speaking disre- spectfully of him where he can hear it.” The big man took from his pocket, a flat leather wallet—very flat, as if any value it might have contained had melted away before that point was reached. From the wallet he took a piece of note paper, on which he hastily sexibbled a few words. He then folded the paper in the form of a note, turned down a corner, addressed it. to *¢ Mol. Double-edge,” and placed it in the wallet, which he put away in his breast pocket. In this performance, though without appear- ing to do so, he kept his writing out of the reach of the curious glances of the drummer. In the mean time the two road-agents had. not been idle, though they seemed to be inno special hurry to get through with their part of the pro- gramme. ‘‘Throw down the express-box, my friend,” ordered the leader. : The driver leisurely gave that article a push with his foot, and it bounced off the stage and tumbled down into the road, — ‘*You won't find a fortune in that, I’m afeard, colonel,” he said with a contortion of his with- ered features that may have been meant fora smile. The box dropped so lightly and with such a hollow sound as to give point to this remark: ‘‘Keep that hearse covered, Ben,” was the direction of the leader to his companion: “If anybody moves or winks, pitch an ounce of lead into him.” The assistant road-agent proceeded to do the rifle act, while his principal picked up a heavy stone and smashed in the top of the box. . ‘‘T reckon you would prefer to carry this - thing in with you,” he said to the driver, ‘‘ and Colonel Double-edge. so I will give it back to you after I get what I want out of it.” The driver only grinned. An inspection of the box soon satisfied Colonel named, that disgust was mainly what he would get out of it. There were no bars of silver or gold—not the least bit of bullion of any sort. Besides some articles that were of no value to the road-agent, the box contained three small money packages and a few watches, which had been sent to be repaired. Col. Double-edge stuffed the money and the watches into one of the capacious pockets of the rough coat he wore, and ordered the mail-bag to be thrown down to him. The driver complied willingly enough with this request, picking up the small leather. pouch dag one finger and slinging it down into the road, This was quite unpromising, and the result proved that the mail-bag was of even less ac- count than the express-box. A sharp knife speedily slit the leather, and the scanty contents were unceremoniously hustled out upon the ground. There they were as unceremoniously examined by Col. Double-edge, while his partner kept the stage and its passengers passive with his level- ed rifle. It was with a look of intense disgust that he inspected the few papers and letters that were spread before him. There was not a registered letter in the file, and there were only three or four that looked or felt as if they might possibly contain a little money in bills. He stuffed those into his pocket with the watches and express packages, and gave the pou a contemptuous kick as he rose to his eet. ** lve got my opinion,” said he, ‘‘ of any peo- ple who would send a stage over this route, and of any company that would run an express on it. It’s the most sneaking, measly, poverty-stricken business that any white men could engage in,” ‘** What’s your opinion, colonel, of a man who would hold ap a stage on this route?” demanded the driver, who was bold enough when he had — to believe that he was not going to get urt. ‘It’s my opinion that he ought to be hung, and the sooner he’s caught and strung up, the better. But you may just bet your sweet life that I won’t be caught doing it again. You may run the wheels off of your durned old rattletraps before I interfere with them,” ‘** All the same to me, colonel. I don’t keer if ie smash the old hearse and make a bonfire of it. . ‘Look here, young chap, you're a bit too fresh, ois Age jaw is inclined torun away with itself. Take that a8 a warning to keep your tongue between your teeth and tos only when you are spoken to. Trot out your passen- ae now. I will have to go through them, hough I don’t like to do that sort of thing.” The driver leaned over the side of the stage and addressed himself to the three men inside. “Say, gentlemen, Col. Double-edge wants to know if you'll be so kind as to step out thar for a minute or two,” This invitation had been expected, and the passengers were prepared to comply with tho polite request. ‘*That means us,” observed the drummer. ‘I won’t kick, as it’s precious little I’ve got to lose.” ‘**Tm fixed for this sort of thing,” remarked the big man. The Mexican said nothing, but quietly and stolidly followed his fellow passengers as they got out of the stage. The leader of the road-agents had drawn a handsome revolver, which he held in one hand or the other during the remainder of the perfor- any and his partner had followed his exam- ple. Quite naturally, and as if they were accus- tomed to that sort of thing, the three victims ranged themselves ina line and held up their hands, while Col. Double-edge passed before them ant ae them of all the weapons they had in sight, : hen he proceeded to search them. He began with the Mexican, and the begin- ning was both unprofitable and disgusting, pan- ning out nothing better.than a few greasy silver coins and a strong odor’of garlic. , Almost equally unprofitable, though less dis- gusting, was the drummer, who indicated with alacrity where his small store of money was to be found. ‘* Sorry that I can’t do more for you, colonel,” said he; ‘‘but the fact is that my firm don’t allow me to collect any bills, and they give me scarcely enough cash for expenses.” ‘* The less you have to say about it the better,” observed the bandit. ‘‘ This thing is bad enough without any talk.” When he came to the big ranchman, that in- dividual had a word tosay. — ** You will find a wallet in my left breast ket,” said he. ‘It contains all the money I ve with me,” | **Oh, we will find openings, never fear. Men —— | Col. Double-edge took out ‘the wallet and sneered as he looked at it. | Evidently its appearance did not please him, \ L as he proceeded to search the man, but found Double-edge, or whatever he might choose to be | nothing more of va!ue. is,” remarked the ranchman. ‘There is some- thing in it that you may like to see.” ‘Seems to me that I’ll have to get a micro- scope to find it,” sneeringly replied the bandit. e stuffed the wallet into his pocket, and ordered the passengers back to the stage. ‘‘Get away from here!” he shouted. ‘ Pick up your measly box and bag, and start your broken-down team as soon as you can! I hate the sight of such a poverty-stricken gang.” CHAPTER ITI. AN EYE-OPENER. THE driver of the San Miguel stage crawled down from his seat, picked up the broken ex- press-box, and put it back in its place, Then he stuffed into the pouch the mail that remained on the ground, slung that up, and saw that his valuable cargo of passengers was safely stowed away. He seemed to be really disappointed because his outfit had got off so easily, and was inclined to dally with the situation and protract his start, until a sharp and peremptory order from Col. Double-edge made him jump up to his seat and hurry forward his wretched steeds at a “ni that threatened to dislocate the old ve- icle. The two bandits stood there with their weap- ons in their hands, and watched the outfit until it disappeared from view. Again a look of profound disgust came over the bronzed and strong features of the leader. **This is by all odds the roughest deal we've had yet,” he remarked, ‘‘and that’s saying enough for it, Satan knows.” “It is enough to make a man turn virtuous and shuck pinyons for a living,” answered the other. ‘If our luck don’t change pretty soon, we had better hang ourselves and save some sheriff the trouble.” “I don’t know what we will make out to do, Ben, as this sort of business pans out so badly. I reckon I will have to take to preaching, and you—perhaps you might sing in the choir. ** W here’s the choir? I'd pity the church where you got hold of the contribution-boxes. But there’s no joke an this, Dick. It is my opinion now, as it has been for some time, that we had better quit this flea-begotten, sand-ridden Ter- pi “ All right, Ben. Shall we go back to Texas?” “No, thank yo . No Texan in mine, if you please. One te of the convict-gang down there is enough to last me a lifetime. I don’t fancy being chased by dogs, either,” “Well, let’s get away from this road. The sight of it makes me sick.” They walked back into a little hollow in the hills where they had left their horses—two fleet and powerful animals, well caparisoned, and furnished with saddle-bags that were as yet fairly provided with the necessaries of life. When they had thrown their legs over the backs of the animals, one of them at least felt much better and inclined to take a brighter view of affairs. ** After all, Ben,” remarked Col. Double-edge, ‘*a man’s not so bad off anywhere, when he has a real good horse under him, and is as well sup- plied with first-class weapons of war as we are now. “'There’s something in that,” answered the other. ‘*‘ We haven't made them pay very well so far; but it’s a comfort to know that we've got them.” ‘“Yes. and we know how touse them, That being the case, there’s sure to be plenty of chances for us, somewhere or somewhere else.” ‘ Something better, I hope, than skinning Greasers and catching fleas.” SSS eens = — of our caliber are needed in more ways than one in such a country as this. Spur up, Ben! night is coming on, and we must find a pleasant place to camp. When we get outside of some decent grub and a little good whisky, and settle down to a comfortable smoke, our cares will fly away, and we will see things in a better light.” An hour’s ride brought them to a pleasant lit- tle glen, where they found running water an grass, on , What more could men in their positiom de- sire? Nothing, just then, except the “decent grub” of which the leader had spoken, and for which they were both longing. : After caring for their horses, they built a fire, produced their saddle-bags, and proceeded to cook the ‘* decent grub.” . : It was not much to brag of, and their cooking might have been improved upon in some quar- ters; but they had excellent appetites, and not only made a hearty meal, but enjoyed it as well as if their consciences had been spotless. This repast was preceded and followed by draughts of a strong and seductive fluid from flasks of a dark color with which their pockets were provided. After their pipes were lighted they found **T wish you would keep the wallet just as it . ’ a yo mee ee A neti: { COME m 900 <Sii