Beadle's Dime Library No. 411: The White Crook — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

— . | Wea ees 1 ite Crook. _ 25 exl by thongs, and were stretched until the ten- | animals can, or an instinctive knowl- ** ‘Yes, Eva, you have saved my life.” sion was very painful. | There they left him, as there was not the | faintest possibility of his getting loose without hel to the painfulness of his his position was add- ed the torture of night insects, which promised . _ to make the brief remainder of his life a misery to him. Night came, and it happened to be a night of ™” intense darkness. The Apaches, after their supper and their smoke, stretched themselves out on the ground and slept, without the needless precaution of setting a watch, as the only point of possible : danger was well guarded. ; Jack Bunn was unable to sleep. __ The irritating insects fed upon him at their pleasure, and threatened to close his eyes and make his face something hideous to behold. His mind, moreover, was agitated by thoughts of Eva, who had seemed to take an interest in him, and to whom he wished to tell the story of her own people. She had promised that he should see her again; but when? “Would it be when he was brought out to die, and would she come to gloat over his death agonies, after the manner of the Apache squaws? The long hours of the night dragged on, and darkness of the deepest had settled down on the camp, and nothing was to be heard but the hum of the insects and the whirr of the night birds’ wings. At last he began to despair. CHAPTER XXXV. FOR LOVE’S SAKE. Eva had not forgotten her promise to the white prisoner. More than that, she had not forgotten her de- ‘sire to see him and ber intention of aiding him. When the sentiment of first love, or whatever it may have been, was once awakened in her, she had an object in life, and all her powers of mind and body were dirccted toward its attain- ment. Carroh had never inspired her with the faint- est spark of such a feeling, nor had Bob Dun- ning. Of course the d idea was that the white man must be saved, and to that end her first exertions had been made, securing for him a re- prieve until morning. ag As concerned this prisoner no suspicion of ¥ sympathy rested on her; she was free, and could go where she pleased and act as she pleased; darkness favored her plans. She laid down in her usual place, and pre- tended to sleep until she was sure that the Apaches were all wrapped in slumber. hen she arose as silently as a ghost, and glided around the camp in the darkness, with no more noise than the night birds made, to the place where the white prisoner was tethered to the ground. She found him as if by instinct, and the first : intimation he bad of her presence was when something soft settled down beside him and brushed away the annoying insects. ‘* Hush-sh!” she whispered, as he uttered a ‘faint exclamation. ‘*‘ You must not speak or try tospeak. Llied to the chief, and told him that you would give him some good words in the morning, so that he would save your life un- til then.” : : ** And you said that I should see you again,” whispered Jack, ‘‘and you have come tome, and | I want to tell you—” , ‘‘ Hush-sh! You must tell me pear Speak not at all, or they will hear you, and find us both, and you will die inthe morning. Dowhat | I tell you to do, and say nothing. | She cut with a sharp knife the thongs that confined his feet and hands, and assisted him to se. ® After letting him stand there a few minutes to on mma gg rest his strained limbs, she took him by the hand and led him away. It was so dark that Jack could scarcely see his hand before him; but he could feel the hand that led him, and he submitted himself implicit- ly to Eva’s guidance, involuntarily imitating ae eres, and stepping almost as softly as e did. | by Why she had taken such an interest in him as to run the risk to set him free, was the question that mainly oh yee the young man. Had she quickly tired of the Apaches after her * return to them, or had she by some chance dis- a that her father was alive and seeking er She was surely putting herself in great peril, and it seemed to Jack that a favorable inone of the undertaking was quite unlikely. He longed to aoe her and beg her to en- lighten him on these points; but she had as yet given him no permission to talk, and he prudent- y held his peace. Eva as if she knew what she was about, ursuing a direct course which she had doubt- > em marked out at the start, and turning neither = to the right nor to the left, except to avoid trees *\ Soe other obstructions. — oh 5 nghe either could see in the darkness as wild Pitas) 4 ah a ' Ay oe, «sf p . . - , rv * Br i«* rs : ‘ P " > - » .- th. : 4 - ' 7 * op Re 7 ia f . ws, oa ee se on 4 e ? . ash s . J su > 4a fe OAT Ww A. + a 2 ‘ . e . at there was no guard at the camp, and the deep. — - — of the proper course and the best way to eep if. Silently and surely she led the young man on, until a thicker chunk of blackness that rose be- fore them informed him that they had reached a portion of the hights that surrounded the basin. ‘““They can’t hear us now,” she said, softly, and Jack took this as an intimation that he might speak to her. ‘** Where are you going to?” he asked. ‘‘ What do you mean to do?” ‘‘[ am going to take you back to your own people,” she lightly answered, asif the task were one of no difficulty. ** But how can we get out of this place? It is impossible to go through the pass where I was captured.” ‘I know another way. It is a way that I found out when I was here before, and [ do not believe that the Apaches know it. Itisso dark now that I can find it without any trouble.” She spoke as if she could find it more easily in the darkness than in the daylight; but to J — seemed impossible that she should find it at all, “Tt was dark when I first came here,” she suggested, by way of explanation. va started right ahead into the chunk of blackness, and began to c.imb the hight, Jack following her. as well as he could. This was no easy matter for him, as he had not her thetd of sight or her knowledge of the ascent; but he climbed his best, assisting him- self by grasping small trees and points of rock, and every now and then directed and encourag- ed by a soft voice ahead of him, which helped him on mightily. How the girl managed to find any sort of a route by which she could climb that rugged and precipitous hight in the utter darkness was amaz- ing to Jack Bunn; but he could not give much thought to the problem, as all his exertions were needed to follow her, On and up she clambered, pausing now and then, not for her own sake, but to warn her companion against dangerous places, and to bid him rest, which he was glad enough to do, as his strained limbs were in poor condition for any kind of travel. Still higher they went, until it seemed to Jack that they must be far above the camp of the Apaches, and then he heard Eva calling him as usual, but did not know what had be- come of her. She reached out her hand and led him into a cleft in the rock, where she bade him sit down and rest. He could not see her, but knew that she had seated herself near him, and the knowledge de- lighted him. ‘‘'We are safe here,” said Eva, ‘*They can’t find us now. They won’t think of following us this way—at least, not before morning.” “And now,” responded Jack, ‘‘ I can tell you what you ought to know. You said that you were going to take me back to my people. You are also going to your own people—you are ing to meet your father.” ‘“What father? Is it the man who took me away from the Apaches?” “No. It is your own father, who lost you ‘when you were a little child, and who has followed you down here. His name is Hark Sarpy.” ‘*Do you mean Hark the Hater?” she fiercely demanded. : ‘*Some men give him that name.” ‘He is a bad and bloody man. He has pur- sued my people like wolves, and has killed many -| of them. ‘** The Apaches are not your people, Eva, and why should he not kill them? They murdered your mother and your baby brother, end car- ried you away, and he has been seeking you ever since.” ‘*T don’t know him,” was her short answer. ‘It was his home that the Apaches attacked when they left you below and went up on the hill to fight. ‘Your sister is there.” | Eva appeared to take no interest at all in what he was telling her. ‘“‘I don’t know them,” she said. ‘I am not going to them. Iam going with you.” This evident distinction and frank admission eer the young man to question her fur- ner, , ‘‘T supposed,” he said, “ that you might have heard of your father and OO a and that it was because of them that you were willing to leave the Apaches ” — 1. No,” she plainly replied. ‘‘It was because of you. Boldly as she said this, there was that in her tone which suggested a blush, and Jack was de lighted again. | ‘Were you not tired of the Apaches?” he asked, ** Yes, I was sorry that I went back to them. They were not the same. They would never let me have my own way any more. They a white man when I begged them to be good to him, and they meant to kill you. They would | morning. have killed you if I bad not taken you away _ from them.” Sas ‘ | e * 7 J +> . A 3 * e * { - om ~ ; a 3 . j P ." 4] etn ate a 3° pe ‘ J ) J he “jee + , 4 ¥ «ig wy \ , ; 2 . f > J ' ‘ Leet, Ss & ." vr = were) ‘ ~ mya “Not yet; but Iam trying to saveit. You know my name—what is yours?” **My name is Jack.” ‘*Come, Jack: we must try to get further away from the Apaches. I have gone as far as : ae and we must feel our way until day- ight.’ va was well enough acquainted with the route to know that the cleft in the rock which rad had entered would take them through the hights which they had partly climbed; but that was all she knew about it, except that every wie would take them further from the Apaches. he walked forward wearily, feeling the sides of the crevice with her hands, and bidding Jack keep close to her, a command which he most willingly obeyed. It was necessary to use caution, as the un- known path might suddenly break away, and a careless step might precipitate them into a fissure or over a cliff; but no step could be lighter or truer than Eva’s, and they reached the end of the split without accident. They knew when they had emerged from the — mouth of the pemage by a fresh breeze that met _ them, seeming as if it drew through avalley. They also knew it by the discovery of a steep’ descent directly before them, over which even the sharp-sighted girl nearly slipped. es. As they did not know whither it led, and could not judgein the darkness what course was most likely to take them to the white men’s camp, it was deemed be:t not to adventure the descent, but to wait there for daylight. % ve : The wait was not a long one, as it was late at es night when ni a : 7 ns eae eet f progress in climbing the hill and passing t “ee the cleft had been very slow. . S04 at By the gray light of dawn they perceived that — they were on the side of one hill and facing an-— other, the opening between them tending toward the south. '- oe The descent was not difficult when they had daylight for it, and the route between the two — hills was easy enough. you~ When day fairly broke, and the point where the sun rose was visible, their course was yet _ 3 plainer and easier. een “Tt’s all right, now,” said Jack. “Iknow © which way to go to find our friends, andassoon _ as we come to a break that leads off toward the — east, we will follow it.” Lae In the course of time they found the break they wanted, and went forward cheerfully and hopefully, most of the time hand in hand. Br. he day proved to be clear and bright, \ 4 °°. fe 3 i Ro) ’ : er 4 4 ~ d t 4 the morning sunshine, Jack Bunn saw sew’ Gia ee ties in the radiant face of Eva, who had not pee periled herself to save his life, but had y semanas that she had done so for his sake — alone. | ee Much to the young man’s amazement, the 1 ir which they were then following broughtthem directly to the heap of stones that vailed the en- trance to the place in which he had been cap- ~ . , "1 &, pA “ * . >) ret Se oa tured. + ee ‘“‘I know where we are now!” he joyfully © — cried. 7 ‘“‘ And so do I,” said Eva. \, 9 ** All we have to do is to go right ahead, and | a: we will soon reach the camp of our friends. _ Come on, Eva!” Hardly bad he spoken when an Apache ap peared before them. * They were helpless, as Jack was entirely un- aon, armed, and Eva had only the knife with which __ she had cut his thongs, while the savage carried _ all his weapons. . js Xe ‘ Ne Fs - 3« Fae oe * £ + fe. 3 x. ~ had oF, He chuckled as he planted himself in the path AR before them, ee CHAPTER XXXVL. ~ A HATER NO MORE. so Hark Sarpy returned to the junction of the two routes which he and his friend had taken, © — having soon discovered that his own course led _ him to nothing. fea He did not find Jack there, and waited for him, annoyed and perplexed, until the hour agreed upon had ; Can ie Then he was forced to the conclusion that the young man had started to return to the poe without waiting for him, and, as night wascom- _ ing on, he took the same direction. a3 hen he reached the camp, he learned that — all the members of the scouting ney. hadcome in except Jack, of whom en been seen. It was apparent to him that his young friend ~ must have lost his way, or had me with an ac- | cident, or might even have fallen into the hands of the Apaches. ee He blamed himself severely for not having _ gone in search of Jack wen he missed him at the _ place of meeting; but it was then too late, con- _ ie eee er cba humas Pu night, to go back into the movntains, and he was compelled to, — wait for morning. OO ) f “ He had taken a great fancy to Jack, whom o we regarded as a bright young man, true and _ brave, and ready of resource, and his anx ety about bis favori a made him restless during tk i night, and aroused him at an early hour 3 rs iy * Joe ‘< - . & > “ats * Pefore there were any signs of day he set out _ with Shawnee Jim acne fog ts — - eomicbooks.cc iF , od TL S, ’ ¥ - YS 7 , . 4 i” . | . eo” 4 7 ~" am # bay %