Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 40 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

The Long Haired ‘Pards.’ Comstock seemed in an unusually loquacious mood, but a few adroit questions soon extracted the pith of his adventures. He and Ben Wat- son, tightly locked in each other’s arms, were swept through the tunnel at frightful = and drawn into the same eddy from which Baby Tom ad drawn Kate Markham, some days before. Though bruised and breathless, Comstock man- aged to crawl ashore, still ge oy Prey prey; but when he recovered a little, to his dismay he found that Ben Watson was dead—his skull horribly crushed where it had come into con- tact with a sunken rock. Believing that some of the Sioux had seen him strike down the In- dian in Black Hollow, he dared not attempt to rejoin them, and feeling too crippled to scale the hill again to rejoin his friend, he sought re- fuge among the grape-vines, to wait for dark- ness to cover his movements. In return Happy Jack informed Comstock of all that had occurred since their parting, and pictured the peril that threatened Kate, in vivid colors. Drawing close together, the trio earn- estly discussed the situation and sought to devise some Pen for rescuing the maiden. ‘‘If there was only more time—if we could only have this night to work in!” muttered Happy Jack. ‘It is a slim chance, but if all else fails, [ will try to carry her off by a dash, on Simoom!” “That would be certain death,” interposed Kunora, ‘‘If she only knew that we were try- ing to aid her—but she will be watched closely. I could not get to speak—” **Could you give her a note—a word of writing?” *‘Perhaps—I willtry. It must be small—just aword. Scratch it upon a leaf. Tell her to make believe faint—to be very ill. If she can play a part, [ think I can manage the rest. Let me think—!” mused Eunora. Smothering his anxiety, as best he could, Happy Jack scratched the words indicated upon a small, smooth leaf, and waited. In a few mo- ments the Indian girl lifted her head and spoke: ‘** You must watch me closely, but be prudent. If I can manage, as I hope, there will little danger. When I make a motion—so, you must lead your horse down to drink. ou will be watched, it is likely. Let him drink, then lead him back, slowly, as close to me as possible. When I give you the sign, place her upon your horse mid flee for life.”’ “Ef "twas me, I know mighty well which critter I'd run away with!” muttered Com- stock, with what sounded very like a sigh, as Eunora, bearing the talking-leaf, turned and glided away from the natural arbor. ‘She is a noble girl—God bless her!” said AP Jack, earnestly. ‘‘But you, Bill—I’'m afrai hey have to lay low until dark. If I succeed in carrying off my sister, this will be like a hornets’ nest, sure!” ; ‘Nor they won’t be no Injun gals fool enough to try to git me out o’ trouble, nuther,” laugh Bill, but with an evident effort. The bright eyes of Eunora had touched his heart deeply. ‘** You never mind me; you'll hey your han’s full with her. Ef you do git her cl’ar, what next? You cain’t sca’cely take her to the fort—” Happy Jack made no reply, for an Indian was seen approaching, and Comstock quickly crawl- ed “up into his former hiding-placa, while ‘his friend passed through and then rounded the clump as though just coming from the river. Putting on a mask of moody unconcern, the scout slowly returned to the broken und where the Indians kept guard over the intrench- ed soldiers, though the truce was rigidly ob- served, otherwise. Taking a position where he could overlook the bowlder, beneath which, bound hand and foot, Kate sat, he awaited the denouement of Eunora’s plans. ; She was conversing earnestly with the White Sioux, and then finally passed before the ca tive. Eunora seemed scrutinizing her closely and curiously, then, with a little laugh, she turned away. As she did so, the leaf dropped, face up, upon Kate’s lap, and the si cant words met her astonished eyes. For an instant she.seemed puzzled—then Eunora cast back a swift, meaning glance, and Kate knew that there was some seherne afoot for her relief. | A few moments later she fell upon her side, with a gasping, gurgling cry, and when Eunora and her father Sehmed back, the captive lay rigid, her face distorted, blood tinging her lips like one in a fit. So well did Kate Sed her part that for a few moments even unora was deceived. ; ‘“Help me carry her overyonder. There is no danger, She has only fainted from terror and fatigue,” explained the Indian girl. : Covertly Harpy Jack watched for the signal. He led his horse to the river, as directed, and saw, to his joy, that he was not followed, though evidently watched. - After a few minutes he began to retrace his steps, pausing every few yards to allow Simoom a mouthful or two of grass, and gradually edg- ing toward Eunora. Now that the crisis was sO near, his brain was clear, his nerves as steady asiron. With a careless glance he selected the best course to take, and saw with satisfaction that a dozen of Simoom’s bounds would carry them around the rise, where no bullet could touck them. dy'| battle. But while his Eunora made the agreed upon signal, then turned her back. Happy Jack led Simoom on —then sprung to Kate’s side, and lifting her in his arms, leaped into the saddle and cheered Si- moom on, bending low down and shielding Kate with his own body, as angry yells and whistling bullets told that his bold attempt at rescue was discovered. CHAPTER XXXVI. THROUGH NIGHT TO LIGHT. **COLONEL,” said Dr. Hurlbutt, gently touch- ing the commander upon the shoulder as he sat buried in deep, troubled thought, ‘‘ Private Obermeyer is sinking fast—dying, in fact. But he says there is something weighing upon his mind that he must get rid of—he asked me to beg you would just step over to him for a mo- ment. From what he let drop, I fancy it con- cerns the murder of Captain Stone—” Colonel Markham visibly winced at these words. Though he had stubbornly strove to hide his real emotions, the knowledge that he had condemned his own son to die a shameful death was bitter, indeed. Arising he followed the surgeon to where the dying so dier lay. ‘‘The colonel is here, Walt,” said Hurlbutt, and the man’s eyes opened with a wild, half- dazed stare. ‘‘Tell him what you have to say. Put it short and clear, for your name will soon be called, and you'll be off duty forever!” ‘You needn't go, Doc,” gasped Obermeyer, painfully. ‘‘I can tell you easier than him, though I didn’t know, until too late, how hard I was hitting him. Let me confess to you—but let him listen. It’s about that black day—Hap- Ry J vo was innocent—I shot Captain Lawrence tone Though his first words had in a measure pre- pared them for this, Obermeyer’s confession ex- torted sharp, indignant exclamations from both Markham and Hurlbutt. But the dying man attempted no apology. In feeble, broken sen- tences, he made a full confession, clearing up every doubtful point, leaving not the shadow of a doubt remaining in the minds of his hearers— for now the other soldiers had drawn around him—as to the utter innocence of Happy Jack. The substance of his story may be condensed into a few lines. Several years before, Ober- meyer had been a private in Captain Stone’s company, and by some means had fallen into the fil grates of the petty tyrant, who managed to make the soldier’s life a perfect hell on earth, until he finally deserted, and enlisted in another regiment, knowing that, if discovered, this re- enlistment would render his punishment lighter. But then Captain Stone himself was transferred to that very regiment, and though he did not appear to recognize Obermeyer, the soldier knew that this could only be a matter of time. He was right. Discovery came on that after- noon when he, in company with Stone, was searching for the lost trail. Yet even then he had no idea of committing murder to save him- self. He fell tothe rear—then the temptation came. Captain Stone discovered Ben Watson, and called upon him to surrender, but the out- law raised his pistol to shoot. At that moment Obermeyer was gr Bene a huge mass of rock—unconscious that appy Jack was direct- ly opposite, with only the bowlder in aga em. He saw. Captain Stone about to fire, an believing he could throw the burden i ee upon the shoulders of the outlaw, he his pistol and discharged the fatal shot. At the very same instant Happy Jack fired at Watson, but his bullet missed, as the outlaw fell, wound- ed by the captain’s ball. Obermeyer saw the scout leap forward, and hastily retreated, only coming up when he saw the others draw near. His agency was never suspected, and through love of life he suffered events to take their course, and another man to undergo the punish- ment he alone deserv There was a dead silence after Obermeyer concluded his confession, for allsaw that he was fast dying. Only for that, he would have fared ill at the ds of the soldiers; not because he had killed Lawrence Stone, but for the death— as they believed—of Happy Jack. Colonel Markham looked like a man who had just listened to his own death sentence—crushed and broken down. The surgeon, relenting, was about to make Ais confession, when a wild tu- mult arose among the Sioux. Though the be- sieged little suspected it, this was caused by the bold rescue of Kate Markham by Ha Py, Jack. ‘‘Lie close, boys!” shouted Hurlbutt, and right well it was that the men promptly ies be for with a rattling volley, the savages, led by the White Sioux, broke cover and impetuously charged upon the breastwork. Stern and deadly work ensued. Rapidly the rifles and pistols of the soldiers vomited forth their contents, but steadily the Indians charged, though leaving some of their number at every step. Right up to the breastwork they charged —and then came the hot work hand to hand. The White Sioux raged like a very fiend of eavy saber dealt death on every side, his shrill voice was heard above the frightful din, warning his braves to spare the life of Colonel Markham, though they slew all others. The soldiers were terribly outnumbered, and 29 though they fought as only men can who know that they must conquer or die, there could scarcely be a doubt as to the ultimate ending of that unequal conflict. One by one were they falling, dead or dying. The bloodthirsty Sioux were pressing them hardly, hemming them in until there was scant room to swing a saber. All seemed lost, when— A ringing cheer rent the air, and two-score horsemen, led by Happy Jack upon his gallant Simoom, thundered around the curve and ee into the melee. With a hoarse yell of urys the White Sioux leaped upon Markham and plunged his knife to the hilt in his bosom— the next moment being fairly spitted upon the sword of Lieutenant Blake. ‘* Alive? then bring him here,” faintly uttered Colonel Markham, as Hurlbutt answered his question concerning the White Sioux. Fast emery yet with mind clear, the white chief was lai beside his mortal enemy, who was prepenne to enter upon the same dark trail. rkham feebly raised himself upon one elbow, and after gazing earnestly, sadly, upon the wreck before him, spoke earnestly: ‘I have sinned heavily against you, Lero A and now, in the presence of death, humbly beg your forgiveness. I have been a hard, cruel man, and yet—I have cared for your oe an FOr ay own—more!” 10 ite Sioux strove to speak, but the hot blood filled his throat. There was a wild, eager en Es his eyes that Markham readily inter- preted. ‘‘Hear me out. I am dying, and you shall hear nothing but the truth. The sto you heard about your wife was not all true—though she did die in giving birth to a child. She was or and had no near friends. It was easy work orme. Ihad her buried. I hired the ple to tell you that both she and her child had died. But it lived. I carried it away, and had it raised and educated as my own daughter. In its face I could trace the likeness of her—my God! how I loved her!” daughter? not that “She lives—your—m one,” the White Sioux, but the exertion cost him dear, The black blood burst from his lips and his head fell back a lifeless weight. ‘““He is dead—God rest his soul!” solemnly pronounced Dr. Hurlbutt, arising. ‘* Be kind to her, John,” faintly whispered the oo soldier. ‘‘ She has been the li eyes ma life. and cruel asI have been, i might have been even worse only for her gentle influence.” Happy Jack and te Temple—brother and sister no longer—knelt beside the blood-stained pallet, their ds ¢ in his. Feebly, un- certainly Colonel Markham drew their ds together, pressing them down upon his fast- ag heart. And thus they were when the daylight faded; when the stars grew brighter in the great vault overhead; when the round moon arose and cast its silvery sheen over the scene. And the white fingers clasped above theirs w colder and whiter, and then they knew that they were orphans, indeed. A few more words, and rest is yours, reader. the scout must be thaiiked for bring- ing up the reinforcement in time to change de- feat into victory. While out scouting, he espied the war-party of the White Sioux, and stealing close, had heard the words of the chief. Knowing that Colonel Markham intended 1id- ing to Black Hollow, he hastened to the fort with his w , but spraining his ankle he aug a mre + late at pight, No ore time was lost, and mounting, the soldiers rode hard, guided by Martin. J ast before reach- ing the spot they met Happy Jack. Placing ate in a place of safety, he led the charge, with the result already recorded. , Happy Jack had but one more interview with Eunora, the Indian girl. He urged her to make her future home with him and her half-sister, but Eunora firmly refused. She knew that he could only give her a brother’s love, and frank- ly told him the sight of another's filling the lace she had hoped to fill, would be worse than eath to her. Resisting all persuasions, she re- turned to her mother’s people, with enekuk, her brother—who, embittered by his father’s death, is now fighting under Sitting Bull. In due time Happy Jack and. Kate were united, and are now living a quiet life upon a Colorado ranch, which the money left by Colo- nel Markham amply stocked. But, happy as the scout is, there often comes a cloud over his spirits as he thinks of his true-hearted “ pard,” ill Comstock, whose presence is alone wanted to complete the measure of his happiness. Bill Comstock—heart-of-gold! Fe died in harness, carrying tches where no other man dared venture. By whose hand he fell no Sap sl se ae guar dared him know n y was discove ' dead for any ave red he had been oug grave is unmarked and few men have a nobler or richer Ra eae ae ~ em oe scout. Look into the : nose who ever knew him— you will find his monument. = THE END. 0 DOOKSAGO