Beadle's Dime Library No. 407 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

is ial iy i, . ~— — f Sore +’ + ? a” af i ae be * r rs vt oy « v . < *. . ~* ‘wih f a i ee rst, *, = - smile. tered. Bens _ placed his hand on Dolph’s shoulder. claimed. ‘give his head almost mine.” . a ae , 2 4& —————— ee ee He d out upon the porch, but stopped suddenly before he had taken three steps. A man and a stranger was bending over the dead man. He was holding one of the cold hands while he gazed into the marble face upon which the soft moonlight fell. fan Diego Dolph was thunderstruck. ‘* In God’s name! who is this?’ he murmured, and then, despite his amazement, he leaned for- ward and glared at the unknown, All at once the new-comer arose, and the next moment he and San Diego Dolph stood face to face. ‘‘ Whose work is that?’ asked the stranger, inting toward the dead. ‘‘ That young man cre been murdered!” ““That’s a holy fact,” answered Dolph, not ceasing to stare at the speaker, who was built like bimself and had a handsome countenance. *‘ He came in awhile ago, in the fix he’s in now, and fm his hand was a paper which accused me of killing him.” | ‘© You+—who are you?” ‘* San Diego Dolph. And you?” ‘** Call me Gilded George, but that is not my name,” was the answer, accompanied by a faint ‘* Will you let me see the paper the dead man brought to San Tonquin?” San Diego Dolph ran his hand into one of his pockets and produced the accusation, ‘We don’t want to talk here,” remarked Gilded George. ‘‘ Let us walk away.” The two men thus strangely met went down the street together. Dolph could not help looking at the man at his elbow. ‘‘ Another fellow never seen before,” he mut- ‘*T wonder if the secret of the Padre’s Palace fetched him here?’ The twain did not stop until the last cabin of the town had been reached. Then Gilded George struck a match and held it over the paper which had accused Dolph of murder. ‘Well, what 8 you say?” asked Dolph as the match was thrown away. “The dead man back there didn’t write this.” “T know that—at least, I was ready to swear he didn’t. Do you know who did write it?” - §$San Diego Dolph thought he saw the eyes be- ——E ee a —— fore him glisten suddenly. “What would you do if I should tell you?” _ suddenly asked Gilded George. “‘T would show him, maybe, that he can’t ac- cuse San Diego Dolph of murder and escape vengeance!” grated the sport. ‘*Oh, you would?” smiled the stranger. “cc Try me !”” “Come, my fine fellow, don’t show your claws for a trifle like this,” and Gilded George | “Tf I told you who wrote this accusation you might change _ your mind, for the writer is no boy.” ~ You won’t tell me, then?’ cried Dolph. ‘‘ Maybe the accuser is a friend of youre ? ugh. Gilded George broke into a light ‘““My friend, did you say, Dolph?’ he ex- ’ Why, bless ou, this fellow would or a fair ehance at ‘“Then we are in the same boat. He hates us both.” | ? of _ ‘A little while before they told me about the ( + ’ 4 ‘3 Ld § - J - ’ “e. p> - ‘ bed iG vy tell -Selmo. Se’ ie wy - ‘¢ Doubtless. When did you come to town?” man’s arrival.” _— * ¥ou did not see him come?” , ‘ ws. 3 + 7 66 poe Dolph checked himself, It would not do to s man that he bad visited the Padre 10. He did not know who Gilded George was, nor what had brought him to San Ton- in. “Ah! I understand,” observed Gilded George <4 with a smile. ‘‘ You were in San eee when the dead man came, but not at a public place.” ~ San Diego Dolph did not speak. To open his Rgeceth would be to utter a lie in which he might be i nstantly caught. ~~ 4 Weren’t you at one Father Selmo’s?” asked ’ . et td Ve. i TT < oe we ars Gilded George. , ight exclamation of surprise. *¥ou’re no court!” he cried. ter! I won't!” **Come, Dolph! don’t try to the wool over my eyes.” | ~ §San Diego Dolph broke from the hand thint r don his dealict and started back with a “Dm not obliged to teli you where I’ve been. By Jupi- One step carried Gilded George toward the astonished sport. His eyes did not glisten now; they flashed, but his voice was peculiarly calm. “Dont go into a flash,” he said, even smilin be oa ‘see nothing to prevent. The bonanza you want while he spoke. ‘‘We may become friends, nd is big enough for two.” thrill went like a cold lance to Dolph’s - , heart. The secret was out, and Gilded George’s : _ mission was the lost Spanish mine! Vou understand me, San Diego,” he went on; ‘*vou know exactly what I mean when I Pd i \ oi ss ee tp fi ‘re ' 1 ry *» & 4, \ cust te, in . eA that the bonanza is big enough fortwo. I Ido. Ain’t you the man who met the vultures on the Texan plain?” teeth. ‘‘ Do you know me?” I don’t know that we ever met before A little girl saw you in a dream, in bd oO. a ‘ ght. nse r, “ re” « about the Padre’s Palace when I speak as. “I’m the very man!” confessed Dolnh through | \ A oe ie és pers) 7 qty ew aan aa a pam | - all 4 : rs - ; ¢ (mae to ete rT ' ¥ * ey H 4 - F | ’ New York; she saw the vultures swoopdown| ‘‘ Not now; some other time,” answered Cold- upon you.” ‘* And the rescue?” queried Dolph. ‘“No. The horror of the attack unnerved her. But I am not here to talk about these things. You have been to ’Selmo’s?” sé es.” The word was spoken without the least effort on the speaker’s part. ‘Did you getany information?” ‘* Not a bit.” “It is my turn to try,” announced Gilded George, smiling. ‘* Show me where this padre lives. Remember! the bonanza is big enough for two.” “Tll doit!” ejaculated Dolph. ‘* But let me tell you two things: the padre knows, and he is as stout as Hercules.” The two men went back into the town, and Dolph guided the strange sport to the door of *Selmo’s hut. Gilded George rapped, but there was no an- swer; then he lifted the latch and opened the door. The lamp was still burning above the little table, and its light illumined every portion of the room. Here and there things were in confusion, ‘Too late!” cried San Diego. ‘* The crucifix on the wall is gone!” ‘* Yes, too late! The sole guardian of the big secret has run away!” CHAPTER IV. A MAN-HUNTER AT FAULT. ‘‘Tr I had not been called away to face that charge of murder, this would not have ha pened,” grated San Diego, glaring at the dis- laced articles which confirmed the little padre’s ight. Gilded George said nothing for a minute; then he turned slowly upon the speaker and spoke with a smile. ‘* Do you think ’Selmo has a grip on the Span- ish secret?” ‘*There’s no doubt of it. He gave the whole thing away when he saw the paper I produced, and then he told me,” ‘*'We must find the padre,” decided Gilded George firmly. ‘** We will do notaing else. Here’s my hand on it!” The two men grasped hands in the light of the little cary but the next moment Dolph with- drew his fingers. ‘* Jehu! is your hand always that cold?’ he exclaimed. ‘** Tt is,” smiled the other. ‘Tf there’s a colder grip in the world than yours, I'd like to know who owns it. You ougbt to have a name for that bloodless hand.” **Thave. Iam called Captain Coldgrip!” ‘‘That’s appropriate! But this isn’t findin’ Father ’Selmo.” ‘It is losing time where nothing is to be gained,” was the reply. ‘‘I am convinced now that the little padre is the guardian of the secret which has been a secret for two hundred years. It is singular that.we should come to San Ton- > on the same night, and the same errand. t is strange, too, that I should find the man who was dreamed about by a little girl in New York—the man lashed to a horse and sent out among the vultures of the Texas plains. Who served you that trick, San Diego?” ‘‘The coolest and most merciless red devil that ever lived!” hissed Dolph. ‘‘ He is on the gold trail now, and a dozen blooded hounds, some white, others red, are at his heels. They caught me unawares, and when they searched me and found on my person evidences of my bonanza hunt, Injun Nick had me tied to the horse. Then they choked me till I fainted, and when I came to I was on a burned plain, alone, with nothing in sight. Asa matter of course, I suffered a thousand deaths, and the vultures came. Their beaks and claws began on me at once, and in the despair of the moment I broke my bonds and fought them back. If an Apache had not come up at the right moment the wing ed demons would have won the battle for all. You don’t think I like this Injun Nick, do you? Stand him before me anywhere, and at any tirne, and let me show you how I adore the ceppery-faced tiger!” ‘The time will come if we stick together, Dolph,” said Gilded George, now known as our old acquaintance, Captain Coldgrip, the New York detective. ‘‘I have a slight acquaintance with Injun Nick, and it will give me pleasure to renew itat any time. But the padre first, if we can find him right away. Do you know San Tonquirr well?” ‘‘ Never ‘was here till to-night. It has two padres; I know that.” “Yes. Cortez,a young man, is the other.” ‘‘Do you think Father Selmo went to him?” ‘““No. They are not on the best terms. Cor- tez is ‘one of the boys,’ when it is not a fast-day, *Selmo was his opposite. Let me play a single- handed game here fora while Go back to the Red Lizard, as the hotel is called, and see that the het eee lying dead on the porch gets a decent | Dope rew back reluctant! ‘** Who is that yeung fellow ’ i. 1 py he asked. | ° ia . i + a a rah eee ; ta By, A 8 © Oe 2 eee ~~ “ < “fir & = ‘Zn ta om ee ee -- + a OEE}! Na... Ll mm Captain Coldgrip’s Nerve. ee ee —_— -——- =~ —— ———— eee grip, significantly. ‘* Let me conduct the search alone for the little priest. If we should meet in the presence of any one in San Torquin, re- member that you have never seen me—we are strangers!” ‘You can bet your life on San Diego Dolph’s play, captain,” said the sport. ‘Do you want to be left here?’ ‘‘ If you please.” In a moment Captain Coldgrip was alone in the padre’s hut. ‘‘Tcan read men pretty well, I think,” he ° murmured. ‘‘l have made no mistake to- night. Estelle would be surprised to know that I have found tbe man she saw in a dream, and very sorry to hear who lies dead at the Red Lizard. San Diego Dolph played a fast handon Padre ’Selmo—a little too fast, but a man will do something basty for a bonanza as rich as the Padre Palace Mine. I don’t like this running away. The old padre may have a hiding-place which cannot be found by the keenest sleuths. What did 1 promise Colonel Cantwell the night I left his office on Broadway ?—that I would find the lost bonanza! And I made the child, Estelle, a promise, too. Alas! I can never keep it. Now, Father ’Selmo, Captain Coldgrip turns to you!” e do not intend to follow the detective in his thorough search of the padre’shut. Nothing escaped him. He climbed into the dark little garret, and searched every inch of its lightless space. He searched the flcor for a trap-door, but found none. The padre did not have any use fcr traps and things of like import. “The mummy of San Tonquin is not in his tomb—that is certain,” concluded the detective, giving up the hunt in the hut. ‘ There is an- ps sa place to be searched; after that, still an- other. He left the hut and went to the front of the little church. The door, always unlocked, seemed to invite entrance, for it stood slightly ajar. . Captain Coldgrip went in. The Church of San Tonquin was not the coun- terpart of the cathedrals of Santa Fe. It was small and dark, and the detective’s footsteps seemed to awaken a score of weird echoes, Match in hand, he moved everywhere with the stealth of the cat; he scrutinized the little altar and tried to find a trap-door leading to some mysteries beneath. ‘The third and last place,” muttered Cold- grip. “Hive minutes later a fine-looking young girl, with deep black eyes and a faultless figure, opened the front door of one of the houses of San Tonquin, and started back from the persom who confronted her. ** What is it, sir!” she asked, gazing into her visitor’s face, z. want to see you for a moment,” was the reply. ‘Come in.” The girl led the man into a small room illu- mined by a lamp, and turned upon him with a question in her brilliant eyes. ‘Tam looking for Father ’Selmo,” announced the visitor, taking a step forward as he spoke. “Why do you come here?’ ‘‘ It is the third and last place.” ‘** Then you have leoked in—” The young woman sengne herself and sroupees ‘Yes, I have looked into the hut and the church. He is not there. Now I have ccme to his ward—to the Flower of San Tonquin.” The figure of the girl seemed to increase in stature. Her eyes suddenly took on a new bril- hance, “You have come to the wrong place,” she said calmly. ‘‘ Father ‘Selmo is not bere.” Captain Coldgrip saw that truth was in every word as it was spoken by the beautiful creature before him. ; ‘Tf it is my turn to question, I would like to know who you are?” the Flower of San Ton- quin continued. ‘‘ You seem ng scree with my identity; you_call me the flower of this place, also Padre ‘Selmo’s ward, The priest bas no claim on me. My religion is not his; yet, for all this, you come here to find him. Who. are you?” ‘Gilded George for the present,” the captain replied. ‘* You have two names, I see,” ‘‘Ts that unusual here?” “No, Fifty men of San Tonquin have two and even three names. So you are Gilded anene when it does not suit you to be some one else The detective could not suppress a smile. ‘You are Gilded George and you want the Mummy of San Tonquin,” the girl continued. ‘*T would ost wager my life that you are hunting for the Padre’s Palace.” Captain Coldgrip started, and uttered an ex- clamation of astonishment, “Ah! I would have won!” cried the girl with a laugh. ‘Ey now and then some- body comes here for that purpose, as if San Tonquin was the door to the lost bonanza. Some people imagine that the Mummy holds the secret because of his great age,” : “= = =COmMmiIcboo tA ° a | : i 7. a es 2 ps = y \ ES t (. ( | rm > ww A - {| X ) ¥ . id a 3 ie, ee Se ee \ !