Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 4 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

- SS ——S- —_ tite - ee =a 28-68 8S Se ee a lc Ee! ————————— _— - = —— —_—— ~~ -—- - - - ———— - ew ee + ete oe ew oe ee _ - - - 7 ~ = 2 TT TT LO = eo . - 22 me OOS, OS SE The New York Libra A ee ee 1 ee oe ee a ee ee ee Cs ee Vol, I, | with great gulps, trenched upon the scanty | the air and the war-whoop dying away in a yell | welled from her wound attracted her attention. store of spirits which had been brought against the probable casualties of their hazardous ex- tent liquor fired his blood, un- gears The l it leaped to his brain in.a maddening wave. Then, a long-drawn breath, a fierce setting of the teeth, and .he clutched his left hand in her he murderous knife flashed in the sun. A swift pass—a horrified averting of the face—a desperate wrench—and he held a reek- hair. Again t ing scalp! ie i fe dared not look at his mutilated victim, but | forehead, bringing = pvry as if pursued by a legion of haunting ghouls! But soon this paroxysim passed, and he He had fled with the bloody knife in one hand, and the ghastly trophy regained self-possession. clutched in the other. He stopped suddenly, about as if fearful. of some spectator of his in- amy. ** This: will never do!” he muttered, gazin | cry—an Burly Ben sped away, only a pace be- | se crouching among the. bushes, and glancing | of mortal agony. But the cry was picked up by ready lungs ' until the woods rung again. Fierce eyes gleame beneath tufted crests, and lithe bodies crashed | their way through the undergrowth in hot quest of vengeance. One moment the scout—erect, defiant—faced _ the foe, his long rifle tossed into deadly position. A puff of smoke—a sharp report—a savage stum- b to the ground, with a bullet-hole in his death too swift for even a hind his eompanion. ‘‘Rendezvous at the same ** An’ now each man for himself. te; I’m off!” he men divided the pursuit by separating, each relying upon his own skill and endurance. On and on they sped, exchanging shots now and lace!” he cried. We're safest g then with the enemy, then loading as they cer with a shudder at the evidences of his crime. | until the sounds of the chase grew fainter an **T must dispose of this!’’—holding the scalp at arm’s length. ‘‘ Great God! it will haunt me to my. d ing day!” e hid it in aclump of bushes, covered it with earth, and strewed the earth with leaves. The knife he cleaned as before, and thrust it into his belt. No slight trace of blood about his person would betray him, since gory tokens of the last night’s struggle were yet undried. After that he took another draught at the canteen, and then proceeded slowly toward the place of rendezvous, trying to still the shudder- ing horror that shook him, and compose his man- ner to that degree of feeling which might be called up by the cruel death of a_ helpless stranger who had crossed his path for a moment. Ben had not yet returned. Hal rested a few moments, and then gave utterance to a shrill, yet plaintive bird It was a cry of distress; and Ben would recognize it as such, were he within earshot. the call, and again and again at intervals, until at last it was responded to at a distance. Presently, there was a stealthy step close at hand; and Burly Ben stood in the presence of the watcher. “What's awry, Hal, my boy?” he asked; and seeing that the young man was alone—‘“‘ has anything happened to the gal? You look likea ghost in a play!” ‘* She’s past all help of ours, poor thing !—and she so young and pretty! A million lives could not repay the devilish deeds these fiends com- mit! Come and see her, It will) give you strength to fight for Miss Blanche; for it might have been her, you know.” ‘*So they found her out?—the red devils!” ‘No. She seems to have left her hiding- place—I can’t guess why.” ‘* And they’ve killed her?” “Yes; and scalped her, r thing!” ‘* What possessed them, | wonder? If it had been a man, now—but a woman—one would ’a’ thought they’d kept her as a prisoner.” ‘hey may have been exasperated at her late rescue; or she may have shown’ such weakness that they preferred not to bother with her.” ‘*'That’s like!” muttered Ben. ‘‘The blood- peas x devils never put themselves to much trouble about a prisoner that’s the least way cumbersome. <A scalp suits ’em about as well as a white squaw, when they can git ’em as han- dy as they’re doin’ these days!” Having made the desired impression on Ben’s mind, fitting it to accept the appearance of i without too careful scrutiny, re- mained silent the rest of the way. ‘There she lies,” he said, presently, stopping where he could not see her, and averting his face so that Ben could not see its sudden pallor. Burly Ben took a step forward and stood be- side the lifeless form, gazing down upon it with compressed lips and knit brows. ‘Such deeds as this don’t go unpunished,” he said, ‘but I’m afeared they’ll keep on until the last red’s rubbed out an’ on his way to the Hap- Py Hunting-grounds. She’s young an’ pretty; ub there wa'n’t a very qnipper look on her face. That waitin’, hungry look in her great eyes didn’t all come in a day, jest because her folks was killed an’ she took pris’ner. This may have pes her out of a good deal o’ misery, after all. allow it’s a Christian duty to cover her up ely the wolres an’ BOAT, Sap mes spot asany. Su we an’ bury her - ** Not ae (nant now!” cried Hal, in great trepidation; for he shuddered at the thought of touching her. Then, noticing that Ben looked over his shoulder in some surprise, he controlled himself and sxplened ‘* The. danger is too great. We might be interrupted at any mo- ment. We can return, you know, when the savages are gone. Let us—” The ri yell caused him to start; and at tlie sight of a dusky face and tufted head he crouched suddenly, co fe : ‘Down, Ben! down ey are upon us!” With an alertness that had become i ct- ive, the scout ducked his head at the first word of alarm, comprehending the whole situation at once. The whiz of a bullet close above his h showed how opportune had been the movement. Then Hal’s rifle s peared above the in ushes, the arms tossed After a pause, Hal repeated | —————— ke, and a dusky form ap. | bosom, fainter, finally dying away in the distance, and the spot that witnessed Mary Edwards’ tragic death lay again in silence. Then two men emerged from the bushes; and while one leaned upon his rifle, the other knelt to examine the oer An hour later Hai dragged himself, nearly ex- hausted from the hard struggle for life, to the pears of rendezvous, and cast himself on the f at the roots of the oak with a weary sigh. ‘* Well, boy, air you nigh beat out?” asked a voice which sounded close to his ear, and made him start up and clutch his pistol; for he had lost his rifle in the race for life. ‘‘Ha! ha! ha! ha!” laughed the same voice guardedly; and Burly Ben appeared from the other side of the tree, showing signs of his re- cent struggle, yet y for another bout. “Oh, is it you, Ben?” said Hal, sinking back to his position of rest. ‘‘ A squaw could bag me now, | think. As it was, I only got away with the skin of my teeth.” Lying supine he tossed his arms above his h and closed his eyes, with a luxurious sense of rest and security. ‘Young muscles and young wind don’t stand the wear an’ tear that old ones does, ’specially if they’re shut up in the house too much. But it won’t do to lay there. Here’s a drop to set ou on your feet again; an’ then we'll make teacka with the toes p’intin’ fur the cave.” Ben offered his own canteen, seeing that Hal’s was gree ‘‘It caught in a bush, and I had to slip out of the strap and keep on for dear life,” ex- plained Hal. ‘* It was a mighty close shave, boy, I reckon. Here’s my own reminder. | exhibited his cap, hrough it, leaving a And the scout ere where a bullet had { hole in front and back. ‘“Don’t feel at all oneasy,” he pursued. ‘“You’re weak now because o’ having lost so much blood last night. But you ain't half so near dead as you look. We'll have you as chip- per as a spring chicken in a day or two.” Thus rudely encouraged, got upon his feet, and together they ponent the cave, exer- cising the greatest care to leave no trail. They had nearly reached their destination, when they were startled by the proximity of some one. Quickly they —_— cover; but a voice said: fh o, Burly Ben! No dodging in the bush between friends.” The ker stepped forth, closely followed by another man; and those who had stopped be~ side M Edwards after her abandonment by hes false husband, now stood before Burly Ben and Hal. CHAPTER XV. A WIFE’S LOYALTY. AND now will my patient reader recall the opening chapter of our story, where Walter eston was introduced in a cave passing in re- view the incidents of his saddened life, drawn thence by the hunter Bantam to follow the trail left by Blanche and her Indian pursuers, after her escape from William Swanton? We not w the reader by their adventures, which have no influence on the main current of events until their move- ments led them to Mary Edwards, after the treacherous assault of her husband, while Hal was showing her mutilated body to Burly Ben. Crouching low, Walter and Bantam escaped the notice of the savages. When the space was clear they approached the betrayed wife. To dead woman showed signs of life, and Walter kneeling at her side quickly poured a few drops of liquor between her lips. _ The woman moaned and moved uneasily, as if in Then her eyes opened and looked va- cantly at Walter. Slowly a look of wonder and reproach came into her face, and her fin- gers closed tightly over Walter’s. vs war, fs Husband!” she said, huskily. Then with a relieved expression she began their horror and astonishment the su again: ‘* Oh, it was terrible! I thought—” While s pms Rove pressed her hand to her © moisture of the blood which had & himself... | With a start she looked at her hand; then from her blood-stained palm to her ensanguined gar- ments; and lastly with a blank stare of horror into Walter’s face, exclaiming: “It was not a dream then! Oh! how’could Was 1 in your way? ou?#—and I loved you so! ad you come to hate me so bitterly? Charley! Oh! oh! oh!” piteously. Charley! She fell back, moanin / ‘‘Hush! hush!” said Walter, bewildered by the woman’s words, and at a loss what to do for her; only feeling that she ought not to gtve such violent expression to her grief. ing her eyes again, she continued: “Tt was a cruel stab; but the wound to my soul was greater than that to my body. I could have borne it from any other hand; but from yours—the hand that I have held to my heart in love!— What had I done to deserve—” Suddenly the color waved up into her face; and starting up until she was se ag = by her elbow, and clutching Walter by the sleeve, she demanded, almost fiercely: ‘* Do you love her—you, my husband? Was it for that, then? Oh God! Convulsed by a of physical as well as > ae , She would have fallen back heav- ily, but that Walter eased her gently to the ground. ‘‘Poor critter!” said Bantam, ‘she’s clean gone out of her head—that’s sartain. She thinks you’re her husband, an’ that you’ve rubbed her out for some other woman.” ‘‘ My dear lady,” said Walter, gently, ‘‘ have es been foully dealt with by one who should your protector? If so, you have found friends who will avenge you, no matter who or what the perpetrator of this deed may be.” At the sound of his voice the woman locked at him with a startled gaze, into which, how- ever, the look of reason had come. : Oh, sir!” she exclaimed, ‘‘ you are a stranger to me!’ ‘We were strangers,” said Walter, gravely. ‘‘ We are now friends who are ready to avenge you, if nec x ‘“‘Avenge me? For what? What did I say to a ave I been talking? I was not my- se The woman spoke disjointedly, in a fright- ened sort of way. ‘You were bewildered by the shock. You took me for your husband,” replied Walter. ‘* My husband? Yes, I was bewildered. Ftt only my husband ?—did I call you by name?” ‘* You called me ees ‘Charley? Wasthat all? No other name?’ ‘‘Only Charley,” said Walter, puzzled. “Yes, 1 was not myself. You hiew that, did you not? For of course I never saw you before; and had I been myself, I would not have thought Fa were my husband. But did I talk much? What did I say to you? There is no dependence to be placed upon it, of course. I did not know what Ss n was saying; and I do not ow now. Should he shock her again by any wt: She seemed unconscious of her wounds. hile he hesitated she urged him piteously: ‘* You will not refuse to tell me? I was not myself. I do not know what I said.” he would not be denied, and he told her: } “‘T gathered from your words that you had been most foully dealt with by your sworn pro- tector—that your husband’s hand had done this fiendish work.” ‘‘My husband? No! no! he loved’me, He: would not harm me. It was all untrue. You saw that I was not accountable, did you not? No, my husband left mé here, and an Indian— That is to say, he left me at home, and—” She paused in confusion, flushed” ener and then went on rapidly, not loo in Walter’s eyes: ‘*T was Sakon from my home by these terrible savages. Last night I was rescued by a gentle- man who had lost his daughter. ere were’ two others with him, They left me in hiding® while they went to look for her; but the In- dians found me n; and you: ree— Am I going to die? That is the way it happened. [| was not myself when I told ftom ifferently. You said yourself, gp know, that | was bewil- dered by the shock. And my head was so numb. did not know what I was ing. But it was an Indian that did it with a murder- ous Her eagerness to impress him with her Jast-re- lated story was pitiable, and might, by its ve excess, have betrayed her, had not Walter's sa ceptions been dulled by a chill fore which made him heedless of her manner. | ng over all but that which most nearly touched his heart, he asked: ‘And this gentleman—did he tell you his name “Yes. It was—Murdock. No; it begins with a B—Burton, I think, or something like that. I don’t remember. There is such a numb feeling in my head.” ‘‘ His daughter—did he of her by name?” Walter’s voice was husky. was pale to the lips, and trembled violently. “Tt ins’ with a B,” he kept re to” EOMICDOOKS*GC 0} @ -——