Beadle's Dime Library No. 411: The White Crook — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

z — : # SS Oe ahh, em ~ : 7 main wire, and hastily descended. He tried a *‘ call,” just as if he had been in his own station, and got an answer. * Seize at San Rafael box of rifles and ammuni- tion addressed to Ezekiel Stebbins, a secret agent and spy of the Apaches. Hostiles all about here. They have killed Pat Byrne where we are. 1 am with Hark Sarpy and Mark Stepney, of Powell’s command, This is reliable and needs immediate attention.” Jack reported to his friends what he had done and the message he had sent. ‘That is right,” said the guide. ‘ Pick up your tools and come along. i’m thinking that we will have to look out for ourselves right sharp.” It was near sunset when they were mounted and ready to start, and the question then was what point they should ain at, and what direc- tion they should take to reach it. Jack Bunn naturally wanted to strike out straight for the settlements, and Stepney was willing to accompany him; but there were ob- jections to this course, which the guide pointed out. « af, “yt mene yf » ie , eis ‘*The chances are,” said he, “‘ that there are | hostile Apaches all about here, and we can’t tell where we may find them--or where they may find us, for that matter. But it is quite certain that it won’t do to trust ourselves to this road or any other road. We might not see them anywhere on it; but they would be likely to see us and shoot us down from behind the rocks or trees. Our safest plan will be to take to the hills, and we must be very careful there, as the Apaches are the best sneaks in the world.” t was agreed that they should risk riding down the road for a mile or so, and should then strike off into the hills through a pass which, if not absolutely safe, would lead them to a place of safety. ‘*T don’t exactly understand this business,” said Mark Stepney, as they rode on. ‘‘ From what you say, Mr. Sarpy, I am led to infer that the Apaches scatter. Do they never travel in droves or bands?” **Seldom, if ever, until they reach their ren- dezvous in the southern part of the Territory, where they are safe in the range of the Sierras and can defy the world to catch them. Those who break away from the reservation go singly or in bunches, and they have their own way of telegrapbing an intended uprising to their com- rades in the hills. It is astonishing how quick the news is carried among them. Then the loose Apaches make their way down to the rendez- vous, and they go by ones or twos, but always in small bodies, stopping on the way to murder any defenseless settlers they may meet, as they treated poor Pat Byrne.” “That account is settled, anyhow,” observed Jack Bunn, ‘“‘ As far as it can be. Those Apaches will never do any more killing. But I must confess that I am uneasy about your three friends who left you this morning. If they went straight down the road they have run a big risk.” They had gone straight down the road, and run a big risk. The guide’s serious misgivings unfortunately roved to be presentiments of the fate that had efallen the poor fellows. When the pasty of three reached the point where Hark Sarpy had determined to strike off into wae aoe they found there a sad and shock- ing sight. At the side of the road lay two white men, killed, sealped, and horribly mutilated. Their bodies had been so roughly treated that Jack Bunn had difficulty in recognizing them as those of two of his late companions, Beebe and Leavenworth. Nothing more was needed to awaken the two oung men to a sense of the dangers they had escaped and of those that still encompassed them. That the two fine lads who had been so joll with them the night before, and who had left them in good health and spirits that Levee nie | should have so soon met such a horrible death, was saddening in the extreme. : Their only consolation was found in tke thought that one of their friends must have es- ca the slaughter. hough darkness was rapidly coming on, Hark Sarpy made a careful examination of the scene, and drew his conclusions from the indi- cations he found there. ‘It’s just as I have been telling you,” said he. ‘‘No traveled road is safe in this region. The boys were riding along here, suspecting no danger, when they were fired on from the mouth of the pass here, by sneaking red-skins who bad been waiting for them. Two of them were knocked off their horses at once, and there is what is left of those two.” “ And why not the third?’ inquired Mark Stepney. ‘‘ How did he happen to get away?” “The signs speak of only two Indians, and the other man must have got out of range with the horses before they could fire another shot. I hope he has not escaped to fall into the hands of - another party.” “Perhaps he was pursued,” suggested Jack, ‘ Not a bit of it. You can see that they 4.) i-?, ek, ak el P re *s graph pole, connected his fine wire with the | stopped here to finish their bloody work. ; 7 ~ Fe \ ° nt © . ° - J « Ail De p* ‘3 nh . * v5 4 . . 1 — ‘ . a ¢* wk, 4 4 e ¢ -< r tiie * - a — —- UABY ‘ot 7 rr € A » Ye 4 ene Sats , he White Crook. hero : 4 ~~ « —~ a oy pg hae : . >. . *e. sides, they had no horses.” ‘** No horses?” ‘“They mostly travel on foot until they reach the rendezvous, where they can find plenty of horses if they want them. That is what makes them so dangerous. Mounted men can no more yursue them than they can hunt rattlesnakes. hey can go wherever the wildcat or the wolf can go, and are as silent and secret as the wild- cat or the wolf. But we have no time to waste in talk, my friends. We must try to put these poor fellows under the ground.” ‘‘If you will give me a little time,” suggested Jack Bunn, ‘‘I think I can get a message off to tell the people below what has happened here,” This was assented to, and the guide and Mark roughly buried the remains of the unfortunate telegraphers, while Jack climbed an adjoining pole and adjusted his ‘‘ thief.” He found the line intact, and had no difficulty in sending his news. It seemed above all things strange to the young men that right at the side of such an evi- dence of civilization as a telegraph line such savage atrocities could occur, and yet the line remained in good working order, The sad task of sepulture was hardly finished, when the trampling of horses was heard down the road, ‘Can those be Apaches?’ demanded Jack Bunn, as he seized bis rifle. ‘* No, indeed,” answered the guide. ‘If they were Apaches you wouldn’t hear them. Those men are mounted on shod horses, and they are coming this way. Therefore they are white men.” The mounted party rapidly drew nearer, and from the amount and regularity of the sound the guide drew another inference, “They are blue-coats,” he said—‘‘some of Uncle Sam’s soldiers—tiring their horses out for no good.” As soon as they came in sight in the darkness he stepped out and hailed them. It was clearly an American hail, and was promptly answered. The next moment the party rode up to where Sarpy and his friends were standing, They were twenty cavalrymen, with two ck-horses—evidently an expeditionary force hat did not expect to return to their quarters very soon. ** Is that you, Hark Sarpy?’ demanded the of- ficer at their head. ‘Just me, Captain Lang, with two young friends of mine that I picked up above here.” **T am very pied to meet you, as you can give me some straight news if anybody can. There are so many queer and contradictory me mi, flying around that I don’t know what to believe. ve any hostiles been seen about here?” an They have been both seen and felt, Captain ng. ‘The deuce you say! Glad that I am getting on the trailof them at last. Where and in what force were they?” ‘* Pretty much all about, as well as I can judge and they don’t stay to be counted. We ave just buried here two young men—-telegraph boys—who were killed by them to-day.” ‘Mercy onus! That is not the kind of evi- dence that I am glad to get hold of.” “There were three in the party who were waylaid here, and oneof them gotaway. Should think you might have met him down the road.” ‘¢ We would not have been likely to if he kept straight on, as we crossed the range from the San Carlos, and struck this road not far below here. We are going on as far north as Benham’s and then we are to flank the range and go down the valley.” ‘“*T am afraid, Cap,” observed Sarpy, “ that you will only succeed in getting to the rear of the hostiles. If you will allow me to offer a bit of advice, I should say that you had better go down to the forks of the river and try to head them off there.” **Can’t do it,old man, I have my orders, and must obey them. I suppose that matter will be attended to below. I must goon to Benham’s, anyhow,” “You will find more Apache sign about a mile up the road, Captain Lang. At Pat Byrne’s place you will find i dead and scalped. You will find three dead Apaches there, too.” ‘This business i¢ getting more serious. I think I can guess who is me for making a finish of those Apaches. Tell me more, Hark. Give me all the news you’ve got, and be as quick about it as you can.” Nobody could pee more news into a small compass and tell it more quickly than Hark Sarpy. He. briefly covere’l all the facts of which he had absolute knowledge by relating what had happened since he met his two young friends that day, not neglecting to detail his suspicions of Zeke Stebbins, and the manner in which news had been sent down the line by Jack Bunn, To this he had nothing to add with the excep- tion of his ent belief that bostiles were pcoiteted rather miscellaneously through the Ss. er . 2 < 3 : A rf a 7 ‘ fi« é ms ' 1 - ‘ 1 e* 4 » P . , » e a ~~ r A - al _ whl > aA ‘ f — * Mf er ed .? ee a + , .4 ~ 5 USE FT, - tn! - 7 ‘ | . e4 . ie :" T > # ~ ee J ee Be- cm” Ame ei an ‘ 4 “ ‘* This is all useful information,” said Captain Lang, ‘‘ and you three have done some valuable work to-day. I wish I could believe that I might do as well, but am afraid that I shall not succeed in picking upanytbing besides informa- tion. Would the young gentlemen like to go with me?’ ‘Would you?” inquired Hark, as he turned to his friends. .. See A wistful look and tone in this query might ie have told them that he would prefer their com- ) many, and they were by no means inclined to ; eave him. ‘*T would rather go with you,” quickly an- swered Mark. . i) ‘* And so would I,” added Jack. ws ‘“‘Good-by, then, and good luck to you!” was the parting salutation of Captain Lang as he ; rode off at the head of his detachment. CHAPTER IX. ie PERILS OF THE PASS. re ‘“‘ THERE they go on a wild goose chase,” said Hark Sarpy, as the cavalrymen passed out of . sight; “‘yet I don’t know, boys, but it might have been better for you if you had gone with apes them.” on ‘* They are going far away from the point west want to reach,” remarked Jack Bunn, ‘‘and I’ | don’t care to take the back track. Ithink we ~~ will be apt to get there sconer if we follow you, = * and I fee} quite as safe with you as I would ~ with them.’ am Mark Stepney assented to this opinion. i: ‘“*T ain’t so sure about the safety of it,"am=- = swered the guide; ‘‘but Ive kinder taken a@ ~~ fancy to you chaps, and am glad to have you —s_ with me. So you may be sure thatI willdothe best Ican. Come on, then!” ag. The two young men mounted and followed their leader into the pass. hes It was a narrow and rugged defile, but nob what might be called a canyon, the sides bei mountain hights instead of cliffs, broken = irregular, with many queerescarpmentsandun- couth formations, the whole covered in patches | with the nut pine and other mountain growths, ‘“‘Tt was, indeed, a break in the original for- mation of the wild and intricate ‘Mogolion “teams range, and presented to the travelers a sure b ee difficult pass, in which those who were unac- quainted with it might easily lose themselves, Occasionally smaller gullies led from the left — or the right into the main defile, which broad- ened in spots so that it might almost deserve to be called a valley. oe It was quite dark when they entered the pass, © ~ and the darkness grew denser as they got fur- i — ther in. . oe As the route w travel, even in d j af tary” 7) . ' {( *, ' , ‘ is > % . > vue me 4 . a > «., * 4 ‘+ anything but an easy one to light, the youngmen didnot — attempt to guide their horses, but gave them the rein, and the rng cae steadily but cau- va 2 in the wake of the guide, whose sure- footed mare went on as if she knewevery inch of the way. eee Thus they traversed the defile for about two hours, until they came to one of the valley-like openings that have been mentioned. tae > It seemed to tempt them to stop, and they did stop. | : i Hark Sarpy dismounted, and his companions —_ gladly followed his example. pay ‘“*It looks as if it ought to be safe to a here,” said he, “though it’s hard telling. ae will try the scheme for a while, anyhow, and see how it works.” . AE ‘“ All right!” joyfully responded Jack Bunn as he tethered his horses. “Ill havea fire star- __ ted in a jiffy, and I reckon we've got victuals enough among us for a gocd supper.” See “Stop right there!” ordered the — ‘*-You will have to eat —— victuals cold, aswe won’t start a sign of a fire this night.” cee ‘* Why so?” Cahir ‘‘ Because we don’t want to lose our me that’s why. Because the Apaches are a8 3 likely to be near as anywhere else, and the sight — or smell of a fire would draw them like fliestoa sugar-pot.” pg i Al right, again. Better luck sonie other ime, aa ede eas. “That's not the only point that’s got to be looked after,” observed the guide. “We must — get rid of our horses,” se ‘Get rid of our horses?’ exclaimed Marky sar more astonished than Jack had been. “What does that mean?” fea ‘“* Tt means that we can get along as well with- out them as with them in these hills, if not a lit- — tle better. It means that the least snort or stamp or whinny might bring some lurking red- _ skins down on us, and they creep as quickly as the rattlesnake, and strike without stopping to — rattle. It means that we can’t afford. to be bothered with horses here, any more than the Apaches can. If we mean to beat them, we _ ork Lames their own game.” a ee Sc ‘Very well, Mr. Sarpy. Youmustdoas you v , ay -" + —- eu ; 4 * 3 ./ a ra * i? . >< hpi a - “ think best. We believe in you implicitly, and we rely upon ycu to pull us through.” eee ** IT will do the best I can for you, boys—tha x is all I can say.” et aK a ‘But how will we get rid of the horses?” cee | “I will turn them loose“and send them away.” ° Sand | | ~ ‘comicbook a ge 4 * * mw.» = ao) eh or A , te to #. =