Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 41 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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24. ‘‘ Because his spirit will haunt me as long as I stay in the town,” he replied, mysteriously. The heart of the listener sunk; if this was not all a delusion, the plainsman was dead, but he did not believe that it was so. It was plain that the mind of the Texan was slightly affected; sane he might be upon some points, but evidently he was not capable of reasoning, clearly upon this one. ‘How can the spirit of a man who is not dead haunt you?’ the other asked, calmly. “But he ought to be dead,” he said, gravely. ‘‘I saw him bleed from twenty wounds.” ** To-night?’ ‘¢ To-night?” he repeated, doubtfully; “‘ yes, I think that it was to-night.” And then a moody fit seemed to suddenly seize upon him; he looked around him, vacantly, for a moment, then went and sat down by the table, his eyes glassy, his hands trembling with nervous excitement. It was evident beyond a doubt that the Texan labored under a disordered brain. ‘* Drink,” he muttered, “‘ give me something to drink.” The other brought a bottle of whisky from the store and a glass, and placed them before the speaker. Glass after glass of the fiery liquor the man swallowed, tossing off the potent fluid as if it were only so much water. The bottle was emptied at last, and then for a while he sat, staring vacantly across the room; finally the strong compound overpowered his senses; his head fell upon his breast; his eyes closed, and his breathing became heavy. The other watched him with anxious eyes until his head sunk down upon the table and sleep claimed him wholly. Then, with nervous hands, the lad examined the weapons that the Texan wore belted to his side. Both of the revolvers were empty, and that they had been only recently discharged was plain, for the marks of the smoke were still fresh upon them. ‘¢ And have all my efforts been in vain?” the lad cried, wildly. ‘“‘To save him from possible danger, I have left happiness and hope behind and journeyed through the world with misery for a companion. I cannot believe that it can be true, but if it is, then have I toiled in vain.” Sad picture, that lonely vigil! CHAPTER XXXI. THE MEXICAN SIREN, PRETTY well tired out was Gold Dan when he reached his shanty, just as the morning light was growing strong in the east. A night of adventure indeed had he passed through, and a pretty unprofitable one; no only had he narrowly escaped death by about as close a shave as it was possible for a map to go through and yet live to tell of it, but he had lost his horse, and such a beast as his was not to be picked up every day on the frontier. He had lost the mare in saving himself, for, taken utterly by surprise as he had been by the second ferocious attack, not given a chance to draw a weapon, he had only saved himself by adopt- ing the old Indian device of sheltering himself behind the neck of his horse. It had cost the mare her life, though, and bitterly the plains- man regretted the loss. ‘‘The chances are ten to one, too, that I may never be able to get square with this fellow,” he muttered, as he got into his bunk, glad of a chance to rest his tired limbs. ‘‘The odds are great that he’s safe in Salt Lake City by this time, or maybe on the road to Southern Utah; that’s where all these Danites fetch up when the upper country gets too hot to hold them. Of course it is a Danite, although John Clark denied it, but I know better. No one else in this country has got a grudge against me; but this terrible Gold Dan has been interfering so much with the family affairs of the Utah Saints that the very mention of his name is quite sufficient to stir them up like a nest of hornets when a long pole is shoved into their home. I reckon that Gold Dan would have kept out of Corinne if he had had any idea of how well he was known and of the peculiar reputation he had gained—that is, he would if I had had any say in the matter.” And with these muttered reflections, the speaker went to sleep. The sun was high in the heavens when he awoke; little wonder that sleep had claimed him for a good,six hours, when the toils and fatigue of the night are considered. But with the sleep all weariness had vanished, and Gold Dan arose as fresh as a daisy. ‘‘Nine o’clock, by Jove!” the plainsman exclaimed, as he looked at his watch. ‘I had an idea that it was about twelve. Now then, to proceed on my original programme. I don’t believe that it will be of much use to try and hunt up this gentleman who evinced such an interest in my welfare last nigit, although his person did seem strangely familiar to me, bat then ’'ve met with so many chaps of his kidney, since my sojourn in the West, that it isn’t wonderful that 1 should detect afamily resemblance. The parties I am in search of are in this town somewhere, I think. They were heading straight in this direction when I lost track of them, but since I’ve been here I've had my hands so full to attend to the little matters that Gold Dan stirred up when he was last in Corinne, that I’ve really had no time to attend to the other affair at all. But now I'll take the trail in earnest.” And having come to this resolution, the plainsman started out to get his ‘breakfast. Upon entering the restaurant attached to that noted establish- ment, he found that it was bare of customers; the only person present, besides the usual attendant, was the ‘dashing Mexican Beadle’ s Dime Library. beauty, who, seated at one of the tables, was enjoying a cup of chocolate and a roll. The face of the girl brightened as her eyes fell upon the plainsman, and she beckoned for him to approach, ‘“‘Haven’t you had any breakfast yet?’ she exclaimed, ‘““Naughty boy to stay out all night and then sleep all the morning!” “Well, I was up about all night,” Dan admitted, seating himself at the table opposite to the Mexican girl as he spoke. “‘ Trying to win a fortune at cards?” “Oh, no,” Dan replied, laughing, ‘‘I gave up that idea a long time ago.—Bring me some breakfast; I don’t care what it is; any thing you have handy.” This was addressed to the waiter who had come to take his order. ‘“‘Some Mormon lady claimed your attention, then?’ the senora queried, a spice of jealousy apparent in the speech. “Oh, no; whatever Gold Dan may have done in that line in the ‘past, he won’t trouble the Mormon Saints to look after their helpmates in the future.” ‘¢ Where were you, then?” the girl asked abruptly. ‘‘ You see that Iam anxious, like all my sex, and I use a woman’s privi- lege to ask questions—impudent ones, perhaps?” ‘“‘Not in this case,” Dan answered. ‘‘ I’ve not the least objection to telling you. I was in the saddle about all night long in chase of a gentleman who took such an interest in the town of Corinne that he tried to favor the inhabitants with a first-class funeral.” ‘‘Some one attempted your life!” the girl cried, quickly, the deep interest she took being plainly apparent both in her voice and manner. “ec Yes. ” “The Danites?” ‘‘ That is more than I can tell.” ‘“You did not recognize the parties, then?’ ‘There was only one, and though his person seemed familiar to me, yet for the life of me I can’t place him.” ‘¢ And he escaped you?” cc Yes. ”? Just at this point of the conversation the waiter brought the breakfast, and the plainsman proceeded at once to dispatch it. The girl watched him for a few minutes in silence, a peculiar expression upon her face. ‘““Why do you come here to Corinne and call yourself Gold Dan?’ she exclaimed, abruptly. The plainsman laughed, between the swallows of coffee he was taking, and seemed to regard the question as a, joke. ‘““Why do I call myself Gold Dan?” he answered; what else should I call myself?” ‘‘ Any thing but that, for it is not your name,” “Oh, isn’t it?” $ You know that it isn’t!” ‘‘ Well, we’re not particular as to names in this region, you know,” Dan replied, helping himself to a bit of the steak as he spoke, which was fearfully and wonderfully fried. ‘‘ Ah, yes; but why do you take another man’s name?” ‘¢ Another man’s name?” ‘‘ Yes; and so, too, take up another man’s quarrels?” “Oh, but I don’t, do I?” $ Certainly you do. Did you not fave Googer, the Mormon, and what had you to do with his wife?’ “That is exactly what I tried to tell him, but he wouldn’t listen to it. He talked about his Mary Jane, and I never even saw the woman!” ‘‘That was because he believed that you were Gold oe ‘Oh, yes; I understand that.” ‘* But you are not Gold Dan.” ‘* Well, who am I, then?” «“ Ah! that is more than I can tell,” the girl replied, witha shake of the head; ‘‘I, too, was a fool like the rest. You do look a great deal like the man who used to be here in Corinne, and who was called Gold Dan; you have on his clothes; I walt swear to them.” ‘Now listen to me,” said the plainsman,. balancing ¢ a piece of meat reflectively on the end of his fork. ‘‘ The first house I, entered in Corinne was this one; the moment I crossed the threshold there was a general cry of ‘Gold Dan!’ Every one recognized me—every one knew me. How could I deny my identity? I will own frankly, though, to you, that if I had had the remotest idea that the old Gold Dan had been such a deuce of a fellow, and had got into so many scrapes in the old time in Corinne, I should have tried very hard to have convinced the town of Corinne that I was not Gold Dan.” | ‘“You have some purpose in coming here in disguise,” the girl said, abruptly. **T am too polite to contradict a lady,” he replied, laughing. » ‘“‘And to carry out that purpose you wished to disguise your identity.” ** A man might do such a thing. ‘Tha report of the death of ea Dan by the hands of the red- skins, was true. You came along immediately afterward; you noticed the resemblance that existed between the dead man and yourself, and resolved to profit by it. You dressed yourself in his clothes, and then came on to Corinne, but you had no idea that you were going to strike a era where —_ Dan was so well known.” ‘You're a regular fortune-teller. i ng CHAPTER XXXII. AN ADVANCE IN FORCE, THE clatter of horses’ hoofs, without in the street, interrupted the conversation just at this point, ‘well, comicbooks co