Beadle's Dime Library No. 395 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

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Crippled, with his ri ~ jess! ‘hand closed upon his throat. 7 k i | vost a ohnny! 10 audacious plottings, he would even then try to accomplish his foul ends, by turning the fright- ened animals from the clear road into the tim- —— ber, taking his chances of escaping with whole | ear and unfractured neck by a Jeap from the x? ** Let him go,” muttered the Duke of Derrin- | gers, checking his first impulse to rush to his | hidden horse and give speedy chase. ‘ Dll know | where to look for him, and there’s time enough.” | Possibly this decision was hastened by a sound | that just then broke from a short distance to his | rear: a groan of pain, accompanied by a curse, and followed by a husky sentence: ‘** Don’t skin out an’ leave me, pard!” Without a sound to betray himself, the Duke of Derringers sunk low down amid the shadows that shrouded even the road, then crept to the edge of the shrubbery out of which the bogus footpads had leaped to play their part in that pec iar drama. He crouched there, one hand ying with a derringer, a tigerish smile playing about his lips, a red glow eo his big eyes. ‘‘That was Tom Kearney bleating,” he men- tally decided. ‘‘It may have been me he caught sight of, and if so, he'll be pretty ape to make another call or a personal break. Dither way, he’s my mutton!” How accurately the gambler reasoned, the next few moments showed, A hollow groan came from the spot where the red-headed ruffian had fallen at the first shot, Again he ore this time with more clearness, as though rising anger was lending him strength. “Play white, mate! I've got it, bad, but you won't turn tail an’ jump the pit without— Curse it, Johnny! Show up!” Still there came no answer in words, but as he oom listened, the Duke of Derringers felt positive that pathetic appeal had reached the ears for which it was intended. Only a slow, faint rustling in the shrubbery almost directly beside him. A sound that might haye been caused by a broken branch swaying in the wind, scraping its tip across a bunch of leaves and small twigs; only there was no breeze afloat just then. “Johnny thinks it’s a mighty unhealthy e he’s caught, I reckon, and wants to draw out without taking the trouble of passing up his chips for what’s left of hisstake,” grimly chuck- led the gambler, reading that faint rustling ht. e Plattening himself close to the ground, the Duke of Derringers began crawling forwartl, not a sound betraying his progress, not the slightest rustle going ahead to warn the wretch- ed Shoe-String Johnny of his impending cap- ght arm dragging help-~ at his side, with the loss of blood weaken- th his body and: his will, the petty gam- bler thought only of press. ang ed into the wood, lest Tom Kearney should try to seek him out, and thus the more surely bring that terri- ble man gee him. For by the flash of the pistol that sent him staggering into the bushes, Shoe- string Johnny had recognized the man whom he above all others in the world! The shock of the heavy ball striking and shat- tering the bones of his arm, just below the Secauider. quickly benumbed his senses and let his carcass drop in the cover almost like that of adead man. All that followed, he had missed. He could not even guess how long a time had elapsed since his being wounded. “He knew not that, unconsciously to himself, Duke Barringer had sought cover very close to the spot where his second victim had reeled to drop. He only ing - knew that Tom Kearney was calling on him for help, and that the rising anger in his voice would lead him to move that way, almost surely acting as a guide to their dreadful enemy. And in his blind terror Shoe-string Johnny saw nothing of the dark form that suddenly shot through the gloom and alighted close be- side him, until it was too late to draw a weapon or make a move in self-defense. One steel-like Another thrust the cold muzzle of a wide-moutbed derringer against his temple. And a low, stern voice mut- tered in his ear: “Give a single yelp, and off goes the roof of reckon you know I mean usiness when I call. the turn.” , a convulsive shiver, but nothing that pees the keenest ears two yards away. And like one fascinated, John Mack lay staring up into those fiercely-blazing orbs. ‘“‘T spared your life a bit ago,” added the Duke of Derringers, in a goers voice, the words coming rapidly. ‘I could have sent my lead through your brain with less trouble, but it struck me that you might have a little informa- tion worth salting down. [ve got you. I want mate, Tom Kearney. I want him alive and able to wag his tongue. I want to see which one of you is smart yg to save his neck by telling he most truth in the shortest length of time “ TI] tell—I won't buck against—” The Duke of Derringers tightened his grip | until the faint gasping ceased tor lack of room to escape, ” Tm talking, Johnny,” in that same low, but é¢ ry terribly distinct tone. Tom is calling to you and getting red-hot. I’m going to let up with my patent squeezers, so you can answer the ras- cal. Say what you like in reply, but if you don’t play him right into ay hand, you’re frozen out of this game for good and all, You ' understand, Johnny?” Mack said yes with his eyes, and the Duke of Derringers added: ‘* The game’s made, Johnny, and you can run off the papers. But don’t forget that ('m hold- ing the cue-box and marking up on the strict square. Slip a double, and bu’st goes your bank forever!” Seeing how frightened the petty gambler was, Duke Berringer couched his warning in the terms which he felt would make the deepest impression on the wounded wretch; nor was he mistaken. s With a faint catching of breath, a little mois- a of his lips, Shoe-string Johnny muttered aintiy: Deadly Aim, the Duke of Derringers. Bi 4 =". “he F in yee re . a 7’ : ee ee ee the smallest of favors. What do you think, my fine fellow?” turning abruptly tow:id Tom Kearney, scanning his bloated face as keenly as the uncertain light would permit. He saw enough to satisfy himself that he had thrown Kearney off the track, and to banish his first hot suspicions. With a surly growl, the ruffian muttered: ‘*]t’s your lead; boss. But ef Johnny hed a grain of sand left, we could make half-way de- cent terms with you, or I’m mightily out in my reckoning. Curse a cocktail, J say!” A sound from Shoe-string Johnny, half a oan, half an angry snarl, warned rringer hat after all he might overreach himself in thus beating about the bush. It was true, he knew considerable, thanks to his lucky eaves- dropping of that forenoon, but there was much hidden behind a vail which even his keenness could not penetrate unassisted. Perhaps he would have acted more wisely in contenting himself with capturing Shoe-string Johnny, and ‘‘- You want me to tole him here? I'll do all | trusting to his confession alone, you ask, sir.” ** Yes, to kill him if he suspected what wasup. Id rather see him hung.” Shoe-string Johnny shivered anew at those cold words, but turning his head toward the road, from whence Kearney had called, he ut- tered ina guarded but clear tone: ‘Ts that you, mate?” ‘*Ts it me?’ snarled the red-haired ruffian, with a hollow groan, mingling with sundry savage oaths of angry pain. ‘“ you mighty long to find your voice! Help me, can’t you?” “Te IT only eould!” groaned Johnny, in an agonized tone that’ not the heartiest wish to please could have counterfeited. ‘‘My arm’s gone! I’m bleeding to death—and I can’t even help myself!” A snarling curse from Kearney then: ‘“You’ve got it too,eh? Whowasit? That infernal Cramp?” Shoe-string Johnny glanced up at the face of his master. A sharp nod gave him the required clew, and he groaned out feebly: ‘* Yes—RufusCramp! A put-up job, [ reckon, me aay going! h, help—help me, ard! Far better than the Duke of Derringers coyld expect, Shoe-string Johnny was playing his part, and such eloquent agony did he put into his ap- peal, that for the moment Tom Kearney seemed to forget his own injuries, Barringer heard his exclamation, and knew that the red-headed ruffian was coming to his mate in misfortune. He crept hastily forward a few paces, and prepared for work, True to his pledge, Shoe-string Johnny gave a hollow groan as an additional guide, and thus decoyed his fellow criminal directly into the snare, Suddenly leaping up and forward, Barringer appled with the astounded ruffian, throwing im heavily to the ground, pinning his one sound arm with his knee, pressing a derringer against his temple as he sternly menaced: ‘*Cave, Tommy, or awa poe your last stake! The cards are put up, an can make you win or lose, just as I please. Which shall it be?” There was no reply, for ample reasons. In falling Kearney had struck his head against a solid snag, depriving him of his senses for a, brief space. And ana gery this fact, Duke Barringer deftly secured his hands behind him with a strong silk handkerchief, completing the job just as the rascal recovered consciousness sufficiently to begin a feeble struggle. ‘‘Tt’s no use, my gentle lamb,” laughed the Duke of Derringers, as Kearney ceased with a groan of agony, the effort wrenching his injured arm. ‘'l’ve got youf.sul, and so I mean to keep you until—’” ‘¢ Johnny Mack! he sold me out!” panted the prisoner, with deadly hatred filling his tones, ‘¢ And himself in the same lot,” laughed Bar- ringer, instantly resolved what course to fol- low. ‘‘The price he got will never make him too rich for sound sleeping. Your turn now, Johnny!” He sprung to the side of the gambler, grasp- ing him with seeming roughness, turning him over and proceeding to bind his hands behind his back, but under cover of this contriving to softly breathe: ‘Don’t give eyes with sand!’ _If Johnny understood his meaning, he gave no sign beyond a faint groan of agony. The Duke of Derringers laughed shortly, hardly. ** Bah! you howl as though the whole roof of Net d house was blown ng Better for you th if you had ground your teeth and smothered yourself with your ns, That would only ave been death; now, you’ve got me to deal with!” ‘““Spare me—spare us!” moaned Jobnny, no longer counterfeiting, his old dread returning with redoubled force. “Tl blow the gaff—Pll tell you the whole story, if you'll only agree to—” A short, chilling laugh cut his trembling speech short. ‘T believe I’m the one to mention conditions, Johnny, and you two precious scoundrels the ones to accept what I offer, thankful for even yourself away, and Il fill his | | | | — ee It was too late to think of that, now, and He’s an ugly brute, and I might have prt sg his half-bantering tone, he spoke ste ‘‘TIt is my lead, and the more carefully you both follow it, the better for you when all’s done. Get up, and take a little walk!” As he spoke, Barringer stooped and lifted John Mack to his feet. Tom Kearney managed to assume a perpendicular unassisted, ‘ Rollow your noses, and keep going until I call a halt,” added Barringer, indicating a di- rection at right angles with the road, Unable to resist, the two crippled wretches complied, spe through the undergrowth as best they could in their weakened condition, and only halting when they reached a little opening, safely beyond ear-shot of the highway. ‘*I’m going to treat you as white as you'll permit me, boys,” said the Duke of Derringers, separating them a few paces, and deftly reliev- ing them one after the other of their weapons, tossing the tools far away in the darkness which surrounded them. “First, [Il tie up those hurts of yours, to keep you from cheating the hangman by wee | to death; but I do it only on conditions, which you'll please weigh in your minds while ’m siasiiter surgeon. Tell me all [ want to know, and you can take your chances of getting safe to town and in hiding until this ugly little scrape blows over.” ‘lf was onlya bit of a spree, anyhow,” muttered Johnny. ‘‘We was drunk, or we wouldn’t—” “This, if rom talk straight,” coldly interposed the Duke of Derringers. ‘If you tip me any lies—as you tried to do, just now, gentle Johnny!—Ill tear off your dages and let you shift for yourselves, until I can gallop to town and put the hounds on your scent, The lay-out is before you, lads; study it over and place your bets according to your own judg- ment. | With steady, practiced hands, the Duke of Derringers set to work. He cut the shirt from John Mack’s back, and tore it into bandages. He cut splinters to hold Johnny’s shattered arm firmly, bandaging it snugly. He gave Tom Kearney equal attention. and having placed the injured arms in comfortable slings, he got down to sober business. ‘‘ Now, Johnny, your tongue is the limberest. What were you two rascals trying to work over yonder, anyhow?” ‘¢- You won’t believe us if we do tell the plain truth,” was the sullen response. ‘“Try me with a little of it, and see,” was the quiet retort. Johnny hesitated. He had been thinking steadily while Barringer was at work upon their wounds, The gentleman sport had shown him so much greater consideration than he had ex- Seeg that he could not help thinking he might eep his real object secret, and yet escape easily. If he made a clean breast of it, farewell to all his bright dreams of a long succession of ‘stakes * from Rufus Cramp. _ It was risky, he admitted to himself, but was it not worth trying for? After all, if detected in a lie, The Duke might not be so hard on him, a crippled wretch. ‘*'We were flat broke, and not a show fora stake. We'd been drinking, too, a little too much for level heads, and so it looked like a good joke to try the road for a flyer. It was all bluff, though, I'll swear! We didn’t mean to hurt anybody, and we was just sheering off when you let drive atus. Ask Tomif Lain’t giving it to you straight, now!” nT. ‘*T don’t want to make Tom soil his soul with perjury, Johnny,” the Duke of Derringers said, ith a cold smile that was more gerous than the blackest of frowns. ‘*When did you first think of this old way to pay recent debts, Johnny?” ‘‘Last night—this morning,” faltered Mack. shrinking from that handsome face with his old shiver of dread. ‘* This forenoon, about ten o’clock? Not so far wrong, Johnny. Of course, you were not drunk enough to do your talking in a saloon! You had sense sufficient to know you would be safer ina room—at your own room, for instance. But too drunk to lower your voices enough to keep the <€om “S (E ofoKo) “7 * ~~ a , a @ i | 2 > 7 / @) ¥ a