Pulp Fiction, 1878 · page 3 of 32
Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 41 — page 3: what you’re looking at
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—<$——$— Se - at “Dead! Well, that settles the wildest Gentile devil in Utab; but it must be proved!” “Oh, no mistake! killed in an Injun fight on the Montana trail, [I heard one of the pilgrims who escaped tell the story. Gold Dan was the first man down, shot plum through the fore- head with a rifle-ball,” “Our information is incorrect, then, for we were told that he bad returned to Corinne.” “His ghost may be waltzing round, but the chap himself passed in his checks a month ago.” ‘‘ Well, that settles it, then; and now another bit of business,” the Mormon continued. ‘‘Somebody is prospecting for gold or silver in the rough lands north-east of Corinne; it must be put a stop to; we don’t want any more miners in Utah; there’s enough here already. Keep a watch, and drive the party off.” “All right; Pll attend to it,” Clark promised. ‘That is all, then, at present. Good-by, boys; keep your eyes about you, and don’t allow these Gentiles to crow too loudly in Corinne. This railroad ain’t going to burst up our church; the Prophet says it must be a cursed poor religion that can’t stand one railroad,” The ruffians chuckled, and the elder strode away toward his boat, which was pullel up on the shores of a little cove in the north east part of the island. He was followed by the Danite ief, orrhe Mormon shoved his boat into the water, and then, with his foot upon the prow to retain it in position, turned to address the outlaw, ‘““By the way, John, I’ve got a little bit ot private business which I wish you to fix for me,” “All right; what is it?’ “ve had a revelation,” and the canting scoundrel rolled his eyes upward, piously, “‘and that revelation commands me to take to wife that little Polly Pickles, who lives on Bear river , just below the town of Corinne—the female doctor, you know?” A peculiar look passed over the dark face of the outlaw, but as his features were in the shadow the Mormon elder did not observe ‘“Why, elder, you’ve got five wives already!” “Tt is not good for man to be alone, John; besides this little fhing is young and innocent: pert and pretty—just suits me, in t.?? mt She’s only a child, elder—a mere girl.” “Sixteen, John; quite old enough, You must manage the affair for me; I don’t think that the little thing will take kindly to the idea; a little gentle force may have to be used, Think the matter over; there’s no hurry, you know,” ‘Yes, I’ll attend to it; but one last word, elder,” he said, as the Mormon got into the skiff and took up the oars. ‘‘ Who gave the information about me?” ‘“Oh, I can’t tell you that, John; but look out for yourself, that’s all, Don’t be too rash, for we’ve got long arms, and it ain’t safe even for the Duke of Corinne to brave us!” And then the boat shot out into the moonlit lake, while the outlaw, with folded arms, watched the villainous elder—a pecu- liar smile upon his dark face. CHAPTER III. THE FUGITIVES. ‘Tae elder is well served,” the Danite mutterea, ‘tat huw m 4 e did it get out?’ pore sca tyes while the outlaw pondered upon the question he had asked, watching the while the rapidly-receding skiff, “JT give it up!” he exclaimed at last. ‘It’s too much for me, but I must cover up the trail at once. Curse the meddling spy, whoever he is! If I run across him, there’ll be one rogue the less world!” oer with this observation the leader turned moodily away and rejoined the men grouped around the camp-fire. by “Nothing more to-night, boys,” he said, as he joined the cir- cle; ‘‘so you can turn in as soon as you like. I want six or eight of you to-morrow night in Corinne. 4 ust stroll _ carelessly wn and keep your eyes on me. ares te tt Gold Dan vor aithar” asked one of the gang, whose ‘sweet ” brogue plainly betrayed that the south of Ireland claimed him for a ana pel ie sé ” i : er re - seg noe ianck Cap’!” the red-headed outlaw exclaimed. “The pilgrim told a good square story; the furst man down was Dan, with a bullet plum through the forehead.” op: Sa “In that case, then, he won’t trouble us much,” the Dan grimly concluded. “ Well, so-long, boys; I’m off. Pormonrnr night in Corinne, remember. Don’t excite remark ae g together, but just scatter about the town and at the gn o hand.” A. neg of “ all rights” answered the leader’s speech; and then the Danite departed. é ; ry light skiff upon the shore gave him passage to the main, aan then, drawing the boat from the water, he carefully concealed i in the underbrush, although there was very little danger ws ad one troubling it, for it was rare that human footsteps pressed the i the saline lake. ar lneaindaien the Danite struck off to the north-east, following a little trail which wound over the rough surface of tg Ae Soir re defined that it would have puzzled the eyes of an Indian tracker to have followed it, and yet the dark- oe —Saeee 7 ome ‘Gold! Dan. co 3 faced outlaw pushed on, never hesitating in the least; thus plainly indicating that the way was familiar to him. A good half-hour’s walk from the shores of the lake, and the Danite crossed the main road southward leading to Ogden; thence to Salt Lake,and then, a short half-mile east of the main trail, up amid the spurs of the Wahsatch mountains, in a lonely glen, from whence a fine view of the surrounding country for miles around could be had. The outlaw halted in front of a small log nut, stoutly framed, with loopholes for musketry in the walls, aud placed directly against the almost perpendicular side of the mountain. This was the home of the desperate Danite leader, the outlaw’s retreat. Alone, a single man might hold it against a hundred while his ammunition held out and he was well provisionad. Thirst+he need not fear, for a living spring gushed forth from the foot of the rock just inside the cabin, and then, flowing under the wall, found its way down the hillside to the Weber river. And so cunningly had this desperate man, who expected to meet a foe in every living creature, pitched his camp, that even if the door of the cabin was carried by direct assault —the only possible way to gain an entrance to the fortress, for the wooden roof was covered with clay, carefully packed on the logs so as to be completely fireproof—successful resistance could still be offered, for within the hut an arched tunnel had been skillfully run into the side of the mountain, the entrance guarded by stout logs, with just room enough in the center for a single man to It was plain that the foe who attempted to take the Destroyer in his den might far better hope to conquer the African lion free in his native woods. The outlaw unlocked the heavy padlock, which, in eonnection with a massive chain, fastened the door, and entered the cabin, All was dark, except that from the cavern in the side of the mountain a ray of light streamed forth, stealing through the log piling and the tattered blanket which marked the narrow door- way. Passing through the aperture, Clark found himself within the cavern’s center. Five or six feet wide only at the doorway, the cavity widened out into a room ten or twelve feet square, and then again con- tracted into a narrow, tunnel-like passage winding into the bosom of the mountain. This passage was plunged in utter darkness, turning as it did abruptly to the right, so that its length could not be ascertained without an examination. A single candle stuck in a hollow of the wall dimly illuminated this strange apartment. Two occupants had this secure retreat when the outlaw entered it. Crouched upon arock, just under the candle, was a man amok- ing—a stoutly-built fellow dressed in shabby garments, and with a face as dark as an Indian’s; his hair, too,was arranged savage fashion, clipped short across the front as though severed by the sharp edge of a bowie-khife, and flowing down long upon his shoulders behind: No Indian, though, was the man, for a short, ‘black beard covered the chin. The other occupant of the room was a boy some fifteen or sixteen years of age—a fragile, delicate-looking lad, dressed ‘poorly like the other, very dark in face and with his jet-black hair cut tight to his head. He wea sound asleep on a buffalo- robe spread upon the floor. N¢t long for this world was the lad, to judge from the face and the fragile form. “* Asleep?” asked the Danite, glancing at the boy as he entered the room. «“ Yes.” So" much the better; for ’'ve something important to say to you. The man removed the cigar from his mouth and looked anxi- ously at the Danite. 6 ‘You must get out; your presence here has either been dis- covered or else it is shrewdly suspected. One of the Mormon elders accused me to-night of sheltering a survivor of the Mountain Meadows massacre.” | ‘The Mountain Meadows massacre!” the man exclaimed. — “Yes; no need for you to say a word about it,” the outlaw continued, quickly. ‘I ask you no questions, and you need not volunteer any information. Suffice it that you have a claim “upon me which I respect; my home, my money, my influence are yours as long as you demand them, but for the present, since it is known that you are here, it is better that you should get out. I am pretty sure that no one has recognized you, so that in Corinne no one will be able to pick you out as the man who enjoyed John Clark’s hospitality. Strangers are pouring into the town every day. You had better open a little store, cigars and notions, or something of that kind; no one will be apt to ‘suspect you. If you need money, mine is at your service. At any rate you must not remain here. Iam liable to be visited by the Mormon elder at any time, and you know what the Mor- mons are,” and as the Danite finished he nodded toward the boy. ‘You have discovered, then?” the man said, slowly. **T’m not blind.” “Well, ’ll go, although I would prefer to hide away from all the world. I fear that, in spite of my precautions the man I dread will find me out.” ° ~ “Who and what is he?’ | **A man who lives by his wits—Richard Velvet he calls himself, though they say he has another name, but he is generally known as Velvet Hand,” * An odd name,” + peentt peetmae ! <= () = & *~ ‘- | | - comicbooks.co