Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 4 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

ee ig EN. te a @ ’ + " * : —~ te . - sent ad nial of being hurt was mercly to guard ust disheartening Bianche. His- too, - OL ded iT eiAliv *) - *_* che. divide, some going in pursuit of Blanche, while others urged their horses hotly on his track, CHAPTER III. BARKING UP THE WRONG TREE. NIGHT, in the enemy’s camp. In a little glade a conflict, characterized b the brief, yet savage energy of the whirlwind. The reports of firearms—the interchange of heavy blows, that fall with sickening thud—the clash of steel on steel—the gride of knife and tomahawk, slashing the quivering flesh to the bone—the yell.of defiance—the death-rattle—the muffled fall on the turf! Then the glazed eye— the stiffening limbs—the lotting of crimson ooze, that dyes the green sward! With a yell of terror, a single savage leaped away into the darkness, and two men held pos- session of the field. ye Blanche! my darling !” burst from the lipf of one. With a bound, he was at the side of a pros- trate, motionless form. One slash of his bloody knife severed the ligature which bound her to the wrist. of the dead savage at her side. Shud- dering, he snatched her hand away from con- tact with that of her vanquished captor. Then, with all the father in a gaze of aqonmad inquiry he passed a hand under her head, and raised it until the fitful light from the scattered embers fell upon her face. One moment he looked at the bloodless cheek and closed eyes, and then his nerveless hand refused its support;, the head fell back limp and lifeless to the ground, and an in- articulate ery issued from his lips. The remaining survivor of the fight. knelt be- side the motionless form,,of Harry Bearsley. With deft fingers, he examined a wound on the side of the head. He had Pg finished bandag- ing it; when the voice of Mr, Burbank, sounding strange and constrained, called him : ‘¢ Ben, for God’s sake, come here!” the call, and passed to Mr. Burbank’s side. lespairing face of his com ’ , pd e* _ = 4 > ; 3 “% % a @-3 ° ‘ * a> * —— . | ” . 7 Fe : 4 > - reas PX , " te . 7*S - i. “ 4 = * > >. : - y 2 ee om . 4 | | moth several vm -and rearing on et, cat eral Deel and darted off - wringing her hands and rocking to and fro, her Uirection Opposite to that taken by , eyes wild with the awful horror of that ruthless | Blan _Burly Ben had only time to see several mount- | the earth and left to welter in her blood at the | ed Indians appear from the-undergrowth and | feet of her child. Coverin | | | led them to follow her, supposing.her to be | | | i } _ Ben recognized as the one Blanche had worn in her hat. To. gain this trophy the scout ran the — | —_————- a | reader in.a very few words. ~ =. Great Shanghaiot'the Northwest. _—$ ~ ee + a eS | enough, and they—and they— Oh, mother! ‘‘I beg your pardon, Ben,” said Mr. Burbank. er!” _“T see that I was unjust. You did all that man could do under the circumstances. I have much _to thank you for—” ‘Let up, squire,” said the now mollified Ben. ‘“None o’ that if you please. I’d go anywhere, or do anything for Miss Blanche.” ‘* But; how could she have got off her horse, Ben, going at full speed? She was pursued by the savages.” ‘*She might have pulled up an’ jumped off an’ then sent. the hoss on.. But, as Sel m coulc run them leetle Injin ponies clean out o’ their hides, I don’t see what fur she should do it.” “What are we todo now?” asked the father She broke forth into heart-rending wails, butchery, where a mother had been stricken to her eyes with her hands, to.shut out the horrible vision, she bowed her head. to her lap in utter abandonment of ene ‘Mr. Burbank gazed upon the _heart- roken girl with the yearning pity of a father, whose own daughter had been torn from his arms, and was now exposed to he knew not what dangers. Tenderly he raised her up, drawing her head upon shoulder, and sup- ina dejected tone. ‘“‘If we go back, where can porting her with his arm, She clung to him we find her? A week! What may not have with the unquestioning trust of a child—she was | hapt ened to her in that time!” scarcely more—while sobs and shudders, shook | vercome with the reflection, he covered his her slight frime, face with his hands, while his frame shook with When he had somewhat allayed the passion of emotion. Mary Edwards clasped his arm with her grief, Mr. Burbank told her the story of his her hands, and laying her cheek against it, whis- daughter’s loss and. of the mistake which had , pered, with a woman’s.quick sympathy: ‘Do not despair, dear sir, You may yet find her. God watches,.over us all!” The last. words were spoken in a tone.of so- lemnity that made them an invocation. Mr. Burbank looked up and placed his hand. on her head. ‘‘God bless you, my child!” he said. ‘“‘ We must indeed rely upon Him, . Will you,pray to Blanche, which story we. can convey .to the After escaping the Indians himself, Burly Ben © returned in search of Blanche. He found where Selim had fallen to the earth, but there werg no signs of his mistress being thrown in the road. Reading the signs, Ben learned that the horse > then left the road and went some distance into Him for our lost one?” the woods, where he had been captured by the Instead. of replying, the girl bent forward savages. But a puzzling thing was that the with a look first of fright, then of .wonder and savages had ridden abdur in concentric circles, incredulity, then a blending of emotions which as if searching for the trail of the rider, neither of the men could. analyze, though the Without settling this point, Ben followed the eyes of both were on her face, revealed By the trail until he came to anencampment, where he clear light of the moon. . With a suppressed cry, saw. a woman lying in the shadow whom he | she half-started. to her feet, and then sunk back took tobe Blanche. Selim, scenting the hunter, | again, trembling like a leaf, but never moving neighed in recognition, disturbing the Indians. her eyes from the direction in which they were The savage who.came to see what might bethe | at-_first bent. . matter with the horses wore.a plume, which | Mr. Burbank and Burly Ben turned to see Hal sitting erect,.and on-his pale and blood-stained face. an expression which was a refiection. of that. which had startled them in Mary Edwards. They did not ask themselves, but we may ask: Was there any connection between these two? if so, what? And, missing Blanche, had they rescued a woman who was destined to be instru- mental in saving her from a peril even greater risk of capture, but escaped after.a brisk chase. — Thus misled, the father, lover and, scout had | followed the wrong trail for a week, Having told these incidents, Mr. : Burbank quertionert the girl on. the.events of her captiv- ity, to learn. if she had seen anything. which Burly Ben immediately arose, in response to | might. aid them in their future course. than Indian captivity? Is she dead?” he asked dd h ae ee Pag his ee Te cori ntl | ‘Ts she dead?” he asked. in sudden awe, as he | replies, scratching hi in perplexity, unti r zed on the motionless figure, and then on the | he suddenly burst forth: CHAPTER “IV. / nion. | Squire, them Injins never clapped hands on INSNARED. Look for yourself,” replied | Miss Blanche. .-When they found the hoss they | . SkLmm was limping. In riding down a savage “T don't know. | the father in a choking voice. nie | aon knelt and reverently. lifted the | why ? head of the girl, so as to turn the still face to the firelight. en # sudden exclamation escaped his lips, and he looked closer, ‘“ Why, ’squire, ’tain’t-her!” Without removing his. face from his hands, Mr Burbank replied: ‘¢ No; it is not.she.” Burly Ben gazed upon the face of the stranger, for stranger she was, and scratched his head in a puzzled way A “Squire,” he said, presently, ‘‘1 don’t jist enieenand the signs, but it pears to me that we've been. barkin’..up the wrong tree, an’ cotched a beaver—that’s sartin.”’ ‘We have got off the trail in some way,” as- sented Mr. Burbank; ‘‘ but look after this poor child, Ben; I have not the heart. This. is a bit- ter disappointment.” ) ‘‘Never mind, ’squire. Don’t lose heart. They’ve Grappen us to-day, but we'll come ag’in. It’s an unlucky dog that don’t get a bone one day in the week.” Lifting the unconscious girl carefully in his strong arms, Burly Ben. bore her nearer the fire; and then laying her on the turf, damp and stip: pery in places with the blood of the combatan now still in death, he began to apply the simple restoratives at his command. She had escaped injury, and was merely in a swoon. Presently. she revived, gazed about her wildly, and then shut her eyes, shuddering and cowering. “Don’t be afearedj marm,”-said Burly Ben in reassuring tones; ‘‘ you're among friends. We ve reskied ye from the Injins, an’ won’t see no harm come te ye.” The girl opened her eyes and earn v he senting up, sho clutched his arm an haunt to his side, glancing nervously arountl in the darkness. ‘‘ Oh, sir!’ she exclaimed, ‘‘ you have beaten them—the cruel Indians? They took me from my home... You will helyine to get back? Oh, mother! mother!—they killed her! I havesno home now.” ler She dropped her face into her, hands; and gave way to a passion © tears, “My poor ehild,” said Mr, Bur ‘* wo shouldbe thankful to heaven that,we have been | what she wore in her hat. the means of releasing you from the terrible | mamy men.as’ud captivity which awaited you, though we came in search of another, -Whatis,your name,and | that. the Injins had whero-is vour home?’ ‘‘Tam Mary Edwards, sir,” replied the girl, in | uso 0’ a sweet voice, yet tremulous with grief. ‘I lived at the Aberdeen settlement. Oh, sir, these cruel savages burned our house; and poor, poor mother was sick and could not walk fast | gazed at him | to a. man’s mistakes,” went trampin’, around the ‘bush. ’Cause he had made a misstep and sprained his knee, ' Why, because Miss Blanche wa’n’t | Miles lay between Blanche Burbank and safety; there!” ) | | and she asked herself how long her steed, gal- ‘* But. where was she?” lant as she knew him to be, would maintain his “ That's jist what the Injins wanted to know. | pace. An’ I'll bet ye that. leetle question stumped.’em, | . On! on! ne she could no longer hear the- They gin it up. - I told yer that: the hoss come | clang of the pursuing hoof; yet she knew that it down kerwhop.” | was following, with the abatement. of not one “ Well?” _ | whit of its fell purpose. The, Indians had de- _‘*But there wa’n’t no signs o’ the rider's get- tected the animal’s, mishap, and had tin’ throwed.” | down to a long race. oy a now the pace of. her ** Yes,” horse became more and more labored. Sweat “Cause, why, again? Why, because there | trickled from his and foam flew from wa’n’t no rider on.’ | bit,, ing his broad chest, - ‘of In tracing up his line of argument, Burly Ben. | ingly Blanche gazed down the road in was in a glow of animation... His exciternent | advance, though she knew that, deliverance was was contagious; and Mr. Burbank awaited the, | yet far distant; but there she was confronted development of his idea with growing anxiety. y a new terror. Around a bend a cloud of ‘“ xplain yourself, Ben,” he said. | dust. announced the approach of other ‘Squire Burbank,” said Burly Ben, impres- | men. Jn dismay she drew rein, glancing right sively, ‘‘ your darter left that hoss’ back before _and left for an avenue of escape; but while she he fell in the road, before he went into the bush pauned: the riders swept into, view. ith her before. the Injins ketched him an’ couldn’t find eart in her mouth she gazed at them to deter- her,” mine their character, and discovered—two white ‘Then you think that she was not taken, af- | men! all?” , Avery of relief rippled from her lips as she *‘T think they didn’t ketch her that time.” urged her horse toward them, ‘**Burly Ben, it seems to me pretty late in the | | ‘Qh, sivs, turn back! turn back!” she cried, day to think of all this, after you é' ave led us | waiving her hand. over a hundred miles into the wilderness, and | Both drew rein and waited for her to come wasted a week’s time.” , | up. As she approached the elder of the men ut- Mr. Burbank’s li took a stern set; and his tered a smothered ejaculation of recognition. nostrils dilated wi A moment later he wheeled hishorse an indignation, not unmixed | By Heaven! it is she!” We : | ‘*Hold on, ‘gers. replied Ben. . “ You're a | rode at her side. F | straight up an’ down man, an’ not given to bein’ Blanche stated the situation rapidly. unfair. .I’m. only a man, you: know, an’ liable The man looked over his shoulder at the ap- ye en a | proaching cloud of. pate then glanced at his ‘“ But you say tha re were no signs of her | co ion meaningly. having been dhtown when the horse fell, and _ “Hal hal” he mused, ‘‘ the devil is playing that tho: Indians, evidently looked for her after | into my bape Well, he ought to; for I serve they took the horse. _Why did you not see the | him we Were you alone, madame?” he asked significance of these things before?” | aloud. ‘ | ‘I. told ye before we set out that them things |‘ Yo, I was with Ben Burleigh. Do youknow stumped me, ‘Cause why? Why, because I him? | | thought. they had the leetle gal, jestlikea pound | ‘Ah! Burly Ben? By my soul! we're old in yer og t. Remember, L seen the hoss; I | chums. Many’s the hunt we’ve had together. seen the —an’ gals is all alike, when ye don’t | But he’s not captured, surely?’ seo their faces; more’n all that, i got the plume | ‘No, I think he escaped. His horse carried I allow, there. ain't | him the other way.” calkalato-on one gal bein’ sper- ‘Your horse is lame. . But he does not seem ited off, an’ another put in her place. Thinkin in’ to’be wounded—there is no blood, Has he had ad, a-holt o’ the gal; an’ was | a fall?” | | £3 makin’ off. with, her, I allow there wa’n’t. much | ‘‘No. ‘Ido not know how he was hurt. ‘It ulaverin’ about how she got off her hoss | was either during the attack or immediately af- —whether she tumbled off, or was handed down | terward. I fear that he will not be able tocar by a gay young cove in high-heeled boots.” ry me to a place of safety.” There was just a little heat in Ben’s manner, Madame, I beg that you will look upon my tod son and me as your protectors. If worst comes as was indicated by his choice of expression, <SiiGO = ed comicboo ae