Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 436 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

% ——- ———— —- + ‘*T am glad she will live. vell me all about this strange affair. of curiosity.” And Blue-eyed Belle was ‘‘ dying ” to confide her secret to her friend. She was a woman, and women, we are told, cannot keep secrets. It is always—“ If you promise not to mention it, | ‘vill tell you something. Now go ahead and I am dying Eo ee ee ee a eee 9 | there would want to remove such a harmless old | pass = always prevented when the precaution | was taken. woman?” ‘*) do not know-—-I cannot even guess, but I am sure it was not Jared Kenneth. Heisa bold, bad man, and I do not like bim; but 1 do Mrs. A. told me tat . Mrs. B. told her in confidence that Mrs. C.”— | ete., etc., and away the secret goes until it soon becomes every body’s secret. **T suppose you know ove secret of mine al- ready,” Belie began. ‘* That you have promised to marry Charlie? | | course you would not, nor will [, even though | Indeed, yes! He told me all about it last night, and oh! I’m so glad, for I love you so. what 1 was trying to ‘eat you up’ for.” ‘‘ Yes, that is the secret I mean,” said Belle | thicker and darker than we think. sadly. ‘* Well, you are not going to cry about it, I hope. be his wife and my sister, are you?” ‘* No, Minnie, I am not peer y I promised, for | n I did not know then what I ow now; but I am sorry that my promise must be recalled.” ‘* Mystery of mysteries! what do you mean? Why must you recall your promise?” * Listen, and I will tell you. You have al- ways supposed my name to be Belle Rittens, and that daddy is my father, have you nes?” ** Why, certainly.” ‘* Tt is not so.” ‘+ Not so?” . ‘*No, itis not so, Daddy told me last night,” “Then who are you? What ts your name?” ‘* Alas! I do not know,” and the poor girl burst into tears. ‘*Oh! Belle, Belle!” cried Minnie, throwing her arms about her friend, her own eyes grow- ing dim in tears of sympathy, ‘‘do not weep. Tell me what you have learned. It may not be so bad as you think,” ‘* Tt could not well be worse. I am a nobody —a girl without a name—a waif. Daddy found me in Blue Stone Canyon, down on Canyon Trail, eighteen years ago.” ‘* Good heavens! can this be true?” ‘‘Thnere is no doubt about it—it iz only too true.” ‘* And was there no clew to your identity?’ ‘‘Yes, there was one clew, which has just come to light, but so many years have passed that I fear it is of no use now.” ‘What is it?” ‘Tt is this—a marriage-certificate,” and as she spoke, Belle drew the document from the bosom of her dress, banded it to her friend, and then told her story as it is known to the reader, ‘* But,” said Minnie, ‘it is nof so bad as it might be, for this. certificate proves that you are not a—a—” ‘A child of shame? No, it does not; for who can say that 1 am their child?” ‘‘True; but it is almost proof positive that ou are, and all that remains to done is to earn who Delwin Mourton and Sibyl Gernett were, and what became of them.” ‘** And how am I to set to work?” ‘** Well, I don’t know exactly, but I suppose a detective will have to be had to search out the mystery.” ‘ And where am I to find a detective?” ‘Say, Pll tell you what to do; come to our house this afternoon and show this paper to papa—Colonel Dallas. If any one can advise you what to do, he can.” ‘“* Do you think he would?” ‘‘Of course he will. Has he not always been kind to you?” ‘Yes, he has always appeared so, whenever I have visited you, but this will be troubling ‘him, and perhaps he will not like it.” ‘‘Oh! what nonsense! Papa likes you, for I have heard him say so, and I am sure he will be glad to assist you in this if he can, Now say you will come,” ‘*[ will ask daddy, Minnie, and if he is will- ing [ will come, I think, if I can get one of Peleg Green’s girls to come and stay with Aunt Dinah.” ‘Yes, you must come. But, you have not yet told me who it is whom daddy suspects of ‘shooting Aunt Dinah, nor why they think the shot was fired at you. This was true, and Belle explained the sus- picion Rube had against Jared Kenneth, and why. oO It can not have been he,” declared Minnie, “Why do you think so?” ‘‘ Because, when Charlie told me last night that you had promised to become his wife, he said he had told no one else, and would not un- til he had formally asked your father—Mr. Rittens’s consent. So, you see, Jared Kennetn knew nothing about it, and perhaps does not know it yet.” “That is so; I had not thought of it that way. But, if not Jared Kenneth, who then was it? Who else could have even the slightest cause to want me dead? I am sure I have never done wrong to any one in all my life.” “Tt isa mystery, Belle, and gone I am un- able to explain. Pe Annt Dinah, after all.” ‘Yes, it must have been; and yet, who is driver to come on. Thus a “block” in the ¢ That is | | | rhaps the shot was fired at | not believe he would commit murder. It is barely possible that the shot was fired by acci- dent.” ‘* Yes, that is true.” ‘* But, Belle, you surely do not mean to break with Charlic, as you say, do you?” ‘What else can [ do! What would you do? Would you consent. to marry a man you love, if you had such a shadow hanving over you? Of Charlie would have me, as I frar the worst is yet to be learned. The cloud may be even cannot be—it shall not be |” ‘* Your refusal will break Charlie’s heart, for You are not sorry you have promised to | he was so happy when he told me he had won your promise.” ‘* And itis breaking mine. You cannot com- prehend how terrible my position is. When your brother asked me yesterday to become his wife, he asked me as the daugbter of an honest man—Rube Rittens, and as such I promised; but to-day I am—who? Can I still say that I am the daughter of an honest man? What name could I give at the altar? No! a thousand times no! never will I marry until this mystery is cleared |” Both girls were now in tears, and for some minutes no more was said, Minnie was the first to speak. When will you tell Charlie?” she asked. ** As soon as I see him,” Belle answered. he at home?” ‘* No, he. has gone to Denver, and will not be home until late this afternoon, He went over to the railroad on horseback, and will return the same way from the afternoon train.” ‘* Well, if you see him before | do, please tell him not to speak to daddy until I see him, and to mention our engagement to no one. Will you do this?’ ‘Yes, willingly.” Just then Aunt Din&ih awoke and called for Belle, and the two girls stepped into her room, The old woman was doing well, but seemed to be greatly excited: ‘** Who ’m dar?” she inquired. ‘*T and Minnie,” Belle answered. ‘*Oh! I’s glad hit war only a dream. I done dreamed you was carried off, Missy Blue-eyes, Please give old Dine a drink ob water.” ‘* No fear of any one carrying me off, I guess,” declared Belle, as she poured a glass of water. 4c Is ‘*T guess your dream came from thinking of the secrets you revealed last night.” This was undoubtedly true, for it had been Aunt Dinah’s haunting fear that if she told what she knew, Belle would be taken from her. Half an hour longer Minnie Denson remained, and then returned home, after once more mak- ing Blue-eyed Belle promise to call on her in the afternoon, CHAPTER X. A FRIENDLY TURN. KENTUCKY JEAN, after his visit to the news- paper offices, spent the remainder of the fore- noon in loitering about the town and makin himself familiar with its highways and byways. After dinner at the hotel he lighted a cigar and strolled out again, this time crossing the bridge over Blue Stone Canyon and making his way northward through the woods on the road to the railroad station, Those who saw him leave town supposed he was merely going for a walk, so leisurely did he proceed, but had they known that he kept on and on, until he had laid some five or six miles behind him, they would have believed he had some objective point in view. And so he After crossing Blue Stone Canyon, the road led through a thick woods for a distance of two miles. ‘Then came a rugged trail over an uneven country for two or three miles more, and then the trail — mto a canyon between towering hills. his canyon was about two miles in length, and from the canyon on to the railroad the road was tolerably good. When Kentucky Jean entered this canyon. still walking slowly as when he started, he paused for a moment and glanced at his watch. **Plenty of time,” he mused. ‘I’ve a good hovr yet, according to the plans I overheard. Ha, ha, ha! there will be a surprise for some- body, if I can only find the right place.” Replacing his watch he strolled on into the canyon. Presently he came to a point where the canyon narrowed to a mere pass, barely wide enough for the daily stages to get through, and where the skill of the drivers was taxed to the utmost. _ This place was about a quarter of a mile in length, and before any stage or wagon entered it, a man was always sent ahead on foot to pre- vent any wagon or other conveyance from entering in the opposite direction. Finding all clear, the advance guard would shout to the + ’ On one side of this pass the wall was as smooth as the walls of a palace almost, while | other extreme. 2 A No, no, it | _ place he desired. on the other it was rough and jagged to the Great masses of rock hung here and there overhead, seemingly ready to fall at any moment, while bere and there were great cracks, some of which were large enough to conceal a horse and rider. One of the latter was particularly large, amounting in fact to a natural grotto. When he reached, this point, Kentucky Jean stopped again. ‘*This must be the place,” he mused, ‘‘ and now to find a niche where I can stow myself away without fear of discovery,” Looking all around, the sport soon found the Just to the right of the large cave was a smaller one, above which was a _ large overhanging rock, and to the right of that again was a crevice that seemed to be about large enough to hold a man comfortably. To clamber to the top of the rock mentioned was but the work of a moment for the agile youth, and from the rock into the niche was but a step. ‘*Just the place,” he decided, ‘‘if this is the right point, and I have every reason to believe itis. Anyhow, if I see nothing of the rascals I can warn Charlie Denson when he comes along, provided they don’t go for him further up the road. If they come along first, and don’t stop here, then I'll scramble down and mosey right on after them. I’m bound to have a hand in this game somewhere.” Rolling a stone into the place he had selected, he sat down upon it, and then examined his re- volvers. ‘** All in order,” he muttered, ‘‘ and now let the curtain rise.” sight, coming from the direction of Bended Bow. They were on foot, and when they came to the cave they stopped. ‘*This is th’ place ye mean, hain’t it?” one in- uire‘, ‘* Yes,” the other answered, ‘‘ this is th’ place. Git right in thar now, an’ out o’ sight, fer we don’t want ter be seen when th’ stage comes erlong.” ‘*No, ye’re right we don’t. Come on,” and the pair disappeared into the cave. A short time later a stage came along and passed, with the usual precaution, and then the two men could be heard talking, but the sport could not make out what they said. Another half hour passed, and then the hoof- strokes of a horse were heard, coming from the northward, and soon after a horseman came in sight, riding at an easy canter. This was Charles Denson, returning from his morning trip to Denver. He was sitting in the saddle with an easy, un- conscious grace, and evidently wholly unsus- Pa of danger, seeming to enjoying a appy day-dream as he rode along. When he neared the point where the two masked men whom we have seen were in wait- ing, there his dream was yap broken. Springing suddenly out in front of the horse, the rascals cried out: ** Whoop, Sally Ann! Hold yer hoss, mister, au’ hold up yer hands, er else ye'll go ter glory mighty quicker!” ‘**'Whoa!” cried the young nan, drawing instantly, taken completely by surprise, ‘ does this mean?” ‘*Tt means hands up, that’s what,” one of the men returned, ‘tan’ ye want ter be soon about it, too. Hol’ on! don’t ye go fer ter reach fer no pops, young feller, fer if ye dodown ye drops. Hands up !” There was no help for it, for each of the men held a cocked revolver in hand, so Charles Den- son was obliged to obey, and raised his hands as ordered. ‘* What do you want?’ he demanded in anger. ‘“We wants yer wealth,” was the reply. ‘‘We knows ye’ve been ter Denver ter square yer month’s account with th’ U.S. Branch Mint, an’ we wants ther ducats.” ‘*Why, you fools! you don’t su I have the cash with me, do you? Notmuch! It issafe in one of the Denver banks; so, you have had your trouble for nothing.” This evidently took the would-be Dick Turpins a little aback. ‘No matter "bout that,” the spokesman soon blurted out, ‘‘ we'll go through ye all th’ same an’ see what ye have got. We’l]) take yer word after we knows fer ourselves. Keep him coy- ered, pard, an’ I'll feel through his clothes.” ‘All right, pard, T’ll bore him if he moves. Ye want ter hurry, though, fer somebody will be comin’ erlong.” “Yes, Tll hurry. Come, mister, git right down offen that ar’ hoss now. Jest toss yer leg over an’ drop, but don’t let yer hands come down aninch. Yer life pends on yer holdin’ ’em up, an’ keepin’ ’em up, too.” ‘*Gentlemen, I—” ) As quick as a flash the highwaymen both turned and looked up, and taking advantage of the moment, Charles Denson dropped his hands and drew a revolver. | G (ECON AMUCS| OOOH GS) ae a. : . a7, a rein what 6 Ooo Half an hour later two masked men came in | co a*