Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 41 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

Lured from his shelter by a cunning trick, he had fallen, help- less, into the power of a most cruel foe. Not Billy Butman, for that crazy fool was but the tool used by the savage assassin. A tall, dark form, revolver in hand, the hammer drawn back and a nervous finger pressed on the trigger, had but waited for |, a sight of the plainsman’s head to send hoine the deadly ball. And then, when Dan was down, apparently sent direct to his long home by the loaded messenger of death, the soul of the assassin was not satisfied—his thirst for vengeance was not ‘ quenched. ‘‘Down—down to eternal flames!” the dark murderer cried, ‘ his voice shrill and discordant, more like, in sound, the yell of | the wild beast, frantic for his prey, than the tones of a human. And with the words, six more shots the assassin fired at the body of the prostrate man. The drunken Butman, knocked over flat on his back by the sudden rush forward of the concealed murderer, suddenly took it into his head that he was about to be killed also, and so set up a most dolorous yell. - “Ow, ow, lemme go, pard! help, murder!” he cried, at the top of his lungs. ‘< Be quiet, you fool!” cried the stranger, and then, to give due force to the caution, he flung the now useless seven-shooter straight at the head of the yelling drunkard, and so true the aim, that the heavy weapon took Butman full in the jaw, eliciting a most tremendous howl, but instead of quieting the unfortunate drunkard the blow only made him call out the louder, ‘‘ This fellow will bring the town about my ears!” the assassin cried, ‘‘but my workis done until we meet hereafter in the flames of hell!” And then turning upon his heel he fled. Twenty paces off, just around the corner of the nearest shanty, a horse was tied, a good-looking, gray animal, and one, too, that evidently could be depended upon to cover many milesin a day with ease and comfort to its rider. Straight to the steed the assassin ran, vaulted at a bound upon its back—no circus-rider in the world could have mounted more nimbly; with a single slash of the broad-bladed knife which he had drawn from his girdle as he ran, the stranger severed the rope-halter which confined the horse, and giving the steed the spur—these keen instruments of horse-torture were belted to each heel—away at headlong speed he went. A marvelous rider was this same dark stranger, for he never — even stopped to adjust his feet into the stirrups, but rode away without regarding them, sitting in the saddle as though in the instant he had grown to be a part of it. So might a brave of the Horse-Indians ride, the finest eques- trians in the known world, or some Mexican or Southarn Cali- fornian herdsman, used to the saddle from childhood’s days. In the,darkness of the distance the horseman vanished, his ‘ flight so speedy, his disappearance so abrupt, that it seemed almost specter-like. e Even the injured Butman forbore to yell, although he did rub his injured jaw woefully, as he watched the horseman’s rapid flight. Riraoce as it may appear, all this noise—the sharp cracks of the revolver-shots, the yells of the drunkard, and the onward rush of the horseman—excited no commotion in the town whatever. Not a soul came forward to the scene of action to ascertain the nature of the trouble, but when it is remembered that it is a common custom in the border camps for each man to discharge his fire-arms at night, in order to reload afresh, and it was not at all unusual for drunken men to make night hideous with their howls, or for horsemen to ride at headlong speed through the town, said riders generally Leing more or less excited by liquor, it is little wonder that the citizens of the town of Corinne rarely bothered their heads to look into the cause of such sounds as had attended the murderous attack upon Gold Dan. Butman slowly rose, and with unsteady steps staggered over to where the plainsman lay flat on his face. ‘‘ Blamed ef he ain’t killed the man!” the borderer exclaimed, in horror, ‘‘ and he sed that it were all a joke, too!” And then, kneeling by the side of the prostrate form, he turned the body over on its back. But the bold and hardy adventurer was not dead yet; the fortunate star which sat in his house of life and watched over his fortunes, had not yet paled its light. From the lips of the supposed dead man came a faint sigh, greatly to the astonishment of the drunken Mr. Butman. ‘‘Wa-al! may I be kicked to death by cripples ef he ain’t a-gwine to come to!” Butman ejaculated, with true drunken gravity. Hardly had the words been uttered, when the eyes of Gold Dan unclosed; he blinked for a moment like an owl brought sud- denly from the darkness into the light, and then recovering from the stupor produced by the shock, he sat bolt upright and looked arouad him with a puzzled air. Keen of wit and quick in instinct as was the plainsman, for a moment he was unable toclearly understand what had happened. Wonderful as it may appear, Gold Dan had escaped the terrible assault almost unhurt. The first shot, which had apparently slain him outright, had just grazed the head, bruising the skin and producing temporary insensibility, but doing no greater damage, and of the other six shots, fired in wanton bloodthirstiness at an apparently dead man, only two of the balls had touched the person of the p.ainsman at _all, and those two had merely inflicted slight flesh-wounds, just breaking the skin and drawing the blood, but nothing more. The blind fury of the assassin had proved the salvation of the burderer. a 20 | Beadle’s Dime Library. —EE = a —_ wee Bless ‘¢You ain’t dead, by hookey!” Butman cried. The words—the voice, instantly recalled all that had transpired to the plainsman; his brain became cleared in an instant, as it were, and he was prompt to act. His revolver was out in a hurry and leveled full at the breast of Butman. ‘‘ Now it’s my turn!” he cried, grimly. A howl came instantly from the lips of the drunken fellow. ‘‘Hol’ on! don’t put a bole through a chap ’fore he ’kin ex- plain!” Butman cried, in terror. ‘* Blest ef I knew w’at he was arter! He sed it was a joke, an’ he bet me ten dollars that I didn’t dar’ to heave rocks at the door thar, an’ in course I wasn’t a-gwine to be dared by no two-legged man in Corinne, ef this hyer court knows herself, an’ she thinks she does!” ‘‘He!” Gold Dan cried; he was quick to comprehend that this man was but a tool in another’s hands. “Yes, the fellow that sed he war an ole side-partner of yourn, an’ he sed, too, that arter I got you out we’d all go an’ take a drink together.” The plainsman understood the scheme now as well as though he bad planned it himself. ‘¢ \nd the moment I did eome out the fellow clapped a revol- ver to my head and fired, eh?” ‘You bet!” cried Butman, impressively, ‘‘an’ then when you tumbled over—I thought your goose was cooked for sure— he jest let you have all the rest of the barrels of his shooting-iron, an’ he yelled out that he'd meet you in blazes, some day!” ‘Where is he? Which way did he go?’ asked Dan, springing to his feet, entirely recovered from the effects of the shock. ‘South, on a big gray horse, an’ as fast as he could put in the licks!” . ‘¢ A thousand dollars to a cent that it was one of the Danites!’ Dan cried, under his breath, ‘‘but I'll hunt him down if the chase leads me clear into Salt-Lake City, and I have to drag him from the altar of the Mormon temple!” And then, without paying any more attention to the drunken fellow, who was considerably amazed at the strange events of the night, Dan locked the door of his shanty and hurried to the corral of the hotel where his horse was kept. CHAPTER XXVI. THE PURSUIT. WITHIN fifteen minutes of the time when the shot had been fired by the masked assassin, which had so nearly ended the career of the bold plainsman, Dan was in the saddle and rode out fos Corinne, hot on the trail. “Tf it was a Danite—and who else would seek my life—the chances are ten to one that he will head directly for Salt-Lake City,” he mused as he rode along. ‘‘He has only about fifteen minutes start of me, and the probabilities are that he will not push his animal to its best, for of course he has but little tear of pursuit. He believes that I am done for and will not fear a close chase, It is a good thirty-six miles from here to the Mormon * town, and in that distance fifteen minutes, more or less, don’t amount to much; besides, it’s big odds that he is not so well mounted as Iam; few horses from here to the Missouri can out- foot this mare.” And the plaiusman spoke with truth, for the horse he ‘bestrode was indeed far superior to the average horse of the frontier, being a long-legged, rangey built mare, formed both for speed and endurance, Straight southward Dan rode, following the trail leading directly to the Salt-Lake Valley. Nobly the gallant mare responded to its master’s hand and heel and galloped on at race-horse speed. The rays of the moon lighted up the darkness of the night, so that the narrow trail was easily discerned. Fully armed was Dan, and amply prepared for the struggle which was sure to follow the overtaking of the stranger who had attempted such a cowardly assassination. . ‘*It will be his life or mine!” Dan muttered, as he rode along, urging his horse toits topmost speed, ‘‘and I reckon that the thing will be a heap more even than when he plugged me without warn- ing. That was as narrowa shave as I ever had, but I reckon I’m not fated to die yet awhile.” Ten or twelve miles the plainsman had ridden, pushing ‘his horse forward at its best speed, and for the last few minutes he had listened eagerly to see if he could not catch the sound of flying hoofs, The country was rolling and uneven, so that the trail was rarely visible more than half a mile in advance. The watch was fruitless; the silence of the night reigned supreme, only broken by the sharp hoof-thumps of the plains- man’s mare, The brow of the borderer clouded with vexation. m “He has either taken another road or else his horse is good enough to win a four-mile race from the best in the country !” he cried aloud. A hundred yards further on and he came to a level stretch ate whence a view of the road could be had for a couple of miles. Dan rose eagerly in his stirrups the better to scan the road, but he was doomed to disappointment, for not a living thing was in sight. : = “I fear that I am on the wrong track,” the plainsman ex- claimed, reining in his horse, half inclined to give up the chase as fruitless. ‘Perhaps the scent is a false one, after all?’ And then, suddenly, to the mind of Dan came the mysterious warning which had been so strangely conveyed to him. And now whenhe reflected upon the matter the mystery in part was solved. At the back of the shanty, which was not over six feét from the ground, the chimney of the house was placed, and ‘as the back ooye) (E (0)