Beadle's Dime Library No. 395 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

ee y Ww were a - Deadly Aim, the Duke of Derringers. ra = p | 27 lookout saw nothing of his head or motions, saw nothing save a ghastly-pale face, like that of a corpse. It was at this seeming corpse he stretched out his long arm and bony fingers as he hissingly vented those words, and it was the sight of Duke Barringer’s dark face so sudden- ly rising beside that white one, that wrested the oath from his startled lips. ‘‘ Take her—save her, if you be men!” panted the Duke of Derringers, not stopping to think how or why these men chanced to be so oppor- tunely nigh at that hour. ‘Ts it you, boss?” muttered the fellow, recov- ering ciently from his scare to grasp and adroitly lift Portia Wellspring into the skiff. ‘¢ We didn’t look fer you, too!” ‘Pull for shore—quick!” panted Barringer, catching hold of the bow and turning an anxious glance toward the steamer, where he could dis- ro at lights flitting to and fro on the lower deck. ‘‘ Never mind me! Save the lady! They mustn’t find—ha !” Ample excuse for that ejaculation! ‘* Blazes! “tain’t the boss! . It’s a stranger!” savagely grated the man in the bow of the skiff, as his mates at the muffled oars took their first stroke, He lifted a heavy, iron-tipped boat-hook from beside him, and aimed a vicious blow at the head of the swimmer the instant that he discov- ered his mistake. As the blow fell, Duke Bar- ringer turned his face, too late to even fling up a hand to ward off or break the force of that dastard stroke! A muffled cry that was hardly more than a groan, and then he sunk from sight below the agitated waters. ‘‘What’s up, Brack?” sharply demanded one of the men at ihe oars. ‘‘Stranger—durned ef I know who he was)” growled the bowman, with a short, evil chuckle, ‘‘Lay down to work, boys! He won't trouble us never no more, now J tell ye!” ‘¢ Somethin’s gone crooked, then!” snapped the third man, half dropping his oar as though to move forward. ‘ Ye durned fool! why fer didn’t ye feeeze to the critter, long enough to use your knife?’ . . ‘* An’ give him time fer to raise a yelp that mought open too many sharp eyes over yen’ way?” nodding toward the boat where prepara- tions were just beginning to lower the yawl. ‘*Pull, ye sinners! They’re gittin’ the crates ready! *Nothertwo minnits an’ the hull river’!l be bright as though the full sun was shinin’ onto it!” ‘*¢ Pull she am!” muttered the other, dropping back on his seat and dipping the muffled oars deep. ‘But, all the same, you didn’t ort to let the critter slip with a whole hide! What’ll the boss say?” ‘““*Tain’t you he’ll say it to, Gobble,” tartly re- torted the other, crouching low in the bow, one hand dropping on the face of the senseless maid- en, ready to close over her lips in case she should ‘recover sufficiently to utter a cry. Now headed straight for the shore, the light skiff shot ahead under the skillfully handled oars. Deep the broad blades sunk, powerfully they tore through the water, yet emerging again with scarcely a ripple to betray their presence to the scores of eager eyes on board the Superb, Decidedly these midnight rovers were not nov- ices on the water, They could see the kindling fire-crates at the stern of the steamboat, where Captain [es was directing the lowering of the yawl. They could note the steadily widening circle of light as the pitch-pine blazed up more vigorously, but they were still without that circle, and the shore was not a great distance away. ‘* Buckle down to it, lads!” hissed Brack, from the bow. ‘It’s got to be clean work, the boss said! Ram her nose up on shore if the fire gains too fast on us, even if ye put it clean outo’ j’int! Bend yer backbones—we've got to tote the ole shell up under kiver afore them cussed imps kin ketch a glimp’—” | The sentence was broken by the forcible col- lision of the boat with the land, almost hurling him end over end out of the skiff. He snatched the still unconscious maiden up in his arms and hastened with her under cover of the shrubbery, while his two mates lifted the light skiff bodily out of the water, and followed after their com- rade, And not a moment too soon, either, The stern of the Superb swung slightly around and the red light cast out by the fire-crates reached the shore they had just left. The fellow called Brack chuckled softly, an expression of contempt on his hard features as he muttered: “Ef we couldn’t han’le ourselves better an quicker then them roustabouts, we’d be spotted coons jest now. Eh, pards?” ‘It'd be all right, on’y fer that stranger crit- ter out yender,” grumbled Gobble, an uneasy, troubled look in his little eyes as he peered through the bushes over the fire-lighted waters. ‘Ef you’d on’y done the job up clean, while ye was *bout it)” ‘Didn't 1? Whar’s the differ’ atween a slit throat or a stuck gizzard an’ a smashed head?” ‘‘ Ef you did smash it.” ‘*Didn’t I feel the bones give way when the hookem-fast hit it? Didn’t the critter sink | He lifted the poor girl toa sitting position fand like so much lead? Hes he come up an’ hollered | before she could realize what was intended, he out what’s goin’ on? Ef he hes, then I hain’t | bound the dirty handkerchief tightly over her hearn him. An’ I’ve got jes’ as many ears as | mouth, stifling the cry of terror that rose in her ou hev, hain’t I? Say?” | throat. Still Gobble was not satisfied, though he could | ‘Tie the two keels of her, Link, will you?” not find words to refute these triumphant asser- | grinned the ruffian, as he flung some stout cords tions, rather than queries, to his mates. Using others himself, he twisted ‘Stick to the knife, I say! That’s my mot-| Portia’s hands behind her back, binding them ter! Stick to the knife. Stick with the knife. | with cruel force. Send it home, an’ draw it out with a twist o’ | Helpless, almost swooning from combined the wrist. Then you know what you’re doin’. | weakness and terror, the r girl-woman was Then you know that your work is done clean. | suffered to drop back on the ground, bound be- Ain’t no botchin’ thar. That’s my motter!” ond all possibility of escape. Brack motioned ‘“‘It’s a motter as’ll twist a rope fer that his fellows to accompany him a little apart with- skinny thrapple o’ yours, Gobble, ef you keep | out earshot of their captive, but still so they on livin’ up to it,” loftily retorted Brack. ‘*Tt’s | could keep an eye on her all the time. a motter that tells mighty ugly tales, sometimes. ‘You want to know why I wouldn't let ye use It says they was somebody else nigh about when | the knife, Gobble?” that critter croaked. It says whar is that crit- “Ef she’s to croak, she cain’t croak no surer ter now? It asks whar’s the steel that made | way, I reckon!” that sanguin worthy mut- this hole with a twist as it come out? Whar’s | tered, fingering his precious blade as his wolfish the han’ that done the twistin’?” eyes wandered over the bound and helpless form ‘“*A croaker cain’t answer, ef it does ax,” | beyond. doggedly muttered Gobble, not yet defeated. ‘*Ef croakin’ was all, that mought sarve as “In with a will. Out with a twist. No comin’ | well as any other, I grant ye,” retorted Brack, back ag’in then. Stick to the knife, an’ you’re | who was evidently inclined to feel his impor- all right!” tance on this particular occasion. ** He hain’t come back, hes he?” sniffed Brack, “Ef they’s any more, I reckon it’s time we growing warm. ‘‘No, he hain’t! He hain’t | was knowin’ to it,” Link coldly interjected. hollered out who hit him, I reckon? Waal, I | ‘‘ The boss chose you as lead man, but ef he hein’t hearn a holler o’ that sort, not yit. Nur | didn’t ‘low we-uns was to do part o’ the work, he won't do no talkin’ ef he is ketched up a | I don’t reckon he’d’a’ tuck the trouble to pick floater. Nur his head won’t do no talkin to | us out.” hurt. Ef it says anythin’, it'll tell of hitting a ‘*That’s jes’ what I wanted of you out here,” snag. Ef them on board knows him an’ sees | confidentially replied Brack, settling himse!f as what the catfish’ll leave when he’s ketched, | though for a lengthy talk. ‘‘ Mebbe you tuck they'll look at his blessed head an’ say he must | notice o’ the gal’s face? Mebbe you sce that, ef ’a’ hit on the guards or az’in’ the yaw] or some- | it atn’t, it mought well be the mist’ess, down thin’ else. But they won’t never think o’ the | yen’ way?” hook-’em-fast, the way J used it,” ! ‘‘Durn the face—it’s the money I want!” ‘* A motter is a motter, an’ I stick by mine,” | growled Gobble. doggedly persisted Gobble. ‘* They ain’t nothin’ ‘* The money you'll hev jes’ as soon’s the jobis ekil to the knife, used the right way.” clean done with, oleman, It hain’t much more’n ‘‘Drap it, both o’ ye!” sharply hissed the | begun, as yit!” third man, more reticent than either of his ‘‘T kin finish it in.a twinkle, ef ye say so, companions. ‘Right or wrong, it’s done, an’ | Brack,” with another fond fumble at his ugly we cain’t ondo it with idle chatter. Them in | weapon. the yawl’s comin’ most nasty nigh to the shore! ‘It cain’t be did that way nohow, boys. If they should ketch sight 0’ your usly mugs | When she croaks, it’s got to be so’s to look lke s ickin’ out in the light, mebbe you'll both hear | natur’ done the work,” was the hasty reply. some uglier talkin’! ‘* She’s got to go to the plantation, an’ be found. Quieted if not convinced, the others screened | thar when tho right time comes. She’s got to their faces a little more with the leaves, peer- | be another gal with the same face when our ing out upon the reddened water, where the | job’s dohe with. She’s got to be buried by the yaw] was moving irregularly to and fro, in obe- | neighbors as knowed her for years. An’ the dience to the hurried directions of Captain Ics. | name that’s to be cut on her head-stone is got to Now and again he fancied he caught sight of a white face or a floating figure, only to be unde- ceived as the waves changed forms. As we have already seen, Captain Les per- formed his work faithfully, even if success failed to reward his efforts, and only ceased to search the waters when fears became a settled conviction that the supposed assassin had either met his fate in the river, or else had escaped them by rapid and skillful swimming. Reluctantly he gave his crew word to pull back to the steamer, which had drifted a few rods below the spot where the three men were lying under cover, with the still unconscious maiden beside them, looking so deathlike. In silence the trio watched the process of securing the yawl and the getting of the steamer under way again. They saw the fire-crates emptied into the river, making the darkness seem doubly intense for a few minutes. They saw the Superb slowly gather headway and go puffing past their ambush. They watched her gleaming lights until the many became blended into the few, before they ventured tomake a de- cided move. Even then they seemed stirred into life and motion more by a low, gasping sound that came from the lips of the poor girl-woman, lying on the damp ground. , ‘‘T was hopin’ she’d croaker fer good!” dis- gustedly muttered the as yet unnamed one of the trio, but whom we may as well introduce as * Link.” ‘* Stick to the knife, an’—” “Git out, you!” grated Brack, throwing Gobble aside as that sanguinary advocate of cold steel actually drew a long, vicious-looking blade arg his person and moved toward the poor rl. “She’s got to be a croaker, hain’t she? Then why not the surest way? Stick to the knife, an’ itll stick to you, I say!” ** Chuck him in the drink ef he don’t *have him- self, Link!” grated Brack, bending over the young woman, whose great brown eyes were gazing bewilderedly into his hard features. ‘Comin’ to, ain’t ye, sorter, mum?” he added, with a leer that was evidently intended to repre- sent benevolent sympathy. ‘Save me! Those frightful men!” gasped fet Portia, hiding her eyes with her trembling ands. “Sart’in we will, mum!” chuckled Brack, at the same time drawing a great rag of a handker- chief from his pocket and twisting it into thigk folds. ‘‘Save ye so ye'll keep as long as the law ‘ll “low, we will. Take ye safe home ag’in, from which ye run off when ye was clean gone crazy. Hol’up your head, honey—so /”. as she looks like her own nat’ral self!” ‘* Then the real mist’ess ain’t comin’ back no mo’?” slowly asked Link, his face grave and an eager light filling his dark eyes. ‘* Ef she comes back, it’ll be as another woman. Ef she does, it'll be as a woman me an’ you Ef she ever comes back to the plantation, boys it'll be as that same gal as is layin’ over ye > way!” chuckled Brack, in huge glee. ’ ‘* Don’t make no odds to me ef she don’t never come back, jes’ so I gits my money,” muttered. Gobble. ‘‘On’y I ain’t goin’ to stay ‘round yere to wait fer her comin’ back. It ain’t so sure it'll all go off the way it’s planned. I don’t take no k in sech mixed-up tricks! Gi’ me the straight work. Stick to the knife; that’s my motter!” % ‘“Now you critters an’ light waggin,” added Brack, com- ing down to earth again. ‘‘ To tote the gal back in a way that nobody cain’t tell the sort o” freight we’re kerryin’ home. Gobble ’*nd me/’lL do that part, while you, Link, kin make quick time with the current down-river to leave the skiff whar it b’longs.” ‘*Time enough fer that, ef we waste a full thing through my pate yit. Mebbe you'll make it read a bit straighter, Brack?” slowly uttered the other, ‘““ What is it ye don’t see right cl’ar, Link?” ‘Who the gal is. What we’re to do with her. The hull lay-out!” CHAPTER XVII. A GALLANT KNIGHT AND HIS LADY FAIR, Ir he was not given time to ward off or parry that vicious blow, Duke Barringer had time to see brutal murder in the eyes and face of the of the water. Here was another instance of good fortune help himself. The first stroke of Gobble and Link at the oars, made at the same time that he aimed his vicious blow, helped to deceive Brack. Instead of the iron-tipped ‘ hook-’em-fast” striking the stranger fair and square on the top of his head, the blow was partially glancing, though still heavy enough to send Duke Bar- - «4 sin that his full purpose was attained. ys flight to Only for the necessity of a rrr rere EE EEE EEE LLL ND SS ES | . too soon for our friend in difficulties, Or, if EOmMmicbooks. - ~ * - : : - a ’ + be that of the woman she looks like jes’ as much& i both’ll know is dead an’ kivered over with dirt. — know why I fetched ‘long the | hour yit, an’I hain’t jes’ sure I’ve gotthe hull fellow who had dragged Portia Wellspring out _ sticking to a man, even after he was unable to ringer under the surface and convince the assas- fay shore, this error must have been discovered, all - (a . wen “eat + P ® "fee t a » 4 7 - . 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