Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 438 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

—— = oe o’ the rain a bit, cain’t ye? Standin’ thar gawp- in’ like—stiddy, man!” almost angrily, as Henry Hornkohl! stoo to assist him. ‘‘1t’s a man o’ flesh an’ bl ou’re handlin’, not a stuffed ‘tomaton! Stiddy—stiddy!” By this time the soldiers had recovered from their amazement, and were ready to lenda hand. As for the scouts, they had already vanished in the darkness, instinctively guarding against any further surprise. The wounded man was carried back to the shelving rock where the force of the rain was broken, and placed on a couple of blankets. Boomer Balt gave Henry Hornkobl a hastily improvised torch to hold, and by its light made a more thorough examination, giving a long breath of relief as he traced the course taken by the bullet. ‘It’s an ugly hurt,” uttered the detective. ‘*The poor fellow must be as strong as he is big to go wandering about on a night like this witt such a hole clean through him!” ‘Ugly to look at, but heap prettier to think of then what I fu’st tuck it to be. Give ye my word I thought they was a shaft sunk right slam-bang through the lad’s blood-pumper!” ‘‘You know him, it appears?’ ventured the detective, ‘‘T know that he’s in a monstrous bad wey evasively replied the boomer guide, shaking his head as he pursued his investigations. ‘* One arm broken clean off! Ribs bu’sted wide open! An’ more sore places scattered around thep would kiver a acre o’ ground ef they was spread out flat! How it come gits me! ks like he mought ’a’ bin run through a thrasher, or some- thin’ o’ that sort!” The scouts came in and reported their inability to find any one else prowling about, while the darkness and the heavily falling rain put it out of their power to solve the mystery by tracking the young giant back to where he had come from. Dick McBride, the scout in command, volun- teered to set the broken arm, which offer was ladly accepted by Boomer Balt. The guide ane his aid, and as the young giant still lay ina strange sort of stupor, there was no particular difficulty in making a fair job of the opera- tion. By this time all of the party knew that this injured man was one of the party for whom they ‘were poopy and naturally their curiosity ran high as they speculated on the outcome: What had happened? How came he so badly in- iured? Who had shot him? Where the rest of the family? Close at hand, or miles away? ‘“That’s what I'd give a heap to know for dead sure!” gravely uttered Boomer Balt, wip- ing his brow, thovgh the evening was cold and in his present position the guide was sheltered in a de from the rain, so the unusual moisture could hardly have been attributed to the last. ‘*That’s what wear ot to find out jest as quick as the good Lord Il let us. He fall to work with whisky-flask in hand, and ere many more minutes passed by he was re- warded by seeing the great eyes of the youn giant open heavily; by bearing a fairt sig come from his bruised breast. But there was no reason in the dull, vacant stare with which Perry Wright answered his hurried questions, And though there gradually came a change as Boomer Balt repea ——— ted the names of his sister and parents, it was anything but satisfactory. A wilder light came into the blue eyes, and a hectic flush to his bruised face. A convulsive shudder ran through bis frame, and broken, hardly articulate words fell from bis lips, Breatblessly Boomer Balt listened, trying to catch the all-important clew. He could distinguish several names—those of *Telie, and his paren‘s, that of Oklaboma Nick; and his eyes glittered vividly as he saw that this last name was never uttered save with shivering and evident dislike—almost fear and hatred. There was something about a neglected warning which he could not understand, and a starting half up, Perry Wright cried, hus- ily: “°Telie—true! Ha! you demon—would you murder? Merciful Father! we're falling —fall- ing—” ' With a choking groan the poor fellow’s head dropped back, and he lay once more insensible. Boomer Balt shivered like a leaf as he rose to his feet, and just the ghost of a smile flitted across bis pale face as he caught the keen eyes of the Espoo fixed upon bim with that old, uzzled look. ayy Never you borrer trouble, pard,” he mut- tered, with a poor assumption of bis wonted careless lightness. ‘‘A critter that wouldn't show feelin’ over secha sight ain’t no right to be called a man at all.” ‘And vou know him so well, too?’ muttered Hornkohl. ‘7 know that he’s goin’ to bea mighty sick nian afore he gits to beany weller. Iknow that he’s bin shaver dirt the wu’st sort by some p’izen critter; an’ I’m bettin’ my ducats that I kin shout out that critter’s name fu’st off.” ‘ You mean Oklaboma Nick?’ “ T do, fer a solid fact!” was the positive re- sponse. ‘I know jest as well as though I'd Jooked on at the huil game, that Nick Van Bib- a ee tl LLL aie < =" . — ee ber hes bin gittin’ in his dirty work. I know that ef this pore lad cain’t hev better shelter an’ tention then he kin git here, he'll] never live to tell jest how Nick Van Bibber come the turn over him.” ‘* What can we do?” ‘Git right down to solid work—an’ this is the programme: We ain’t more’n a mile from a snug little hole in the ground whar a sick man mought easily ’magine himself in a palace so fur’s ginuine comfort is consarned, an—” ‘Yet you never mentioned as much, though you saw the storm coming and knew that we 1ad no sort of shelter,” half-angrily muttered Henry Hornkoh), with a half-shiver as he moved nearer the fire. ‘*T hed my reasons, which don’t matter to anybody jest now,” a little sharply retorted the guide, frowning at the interruption. ‘* Mebbe I wanted to keep my own secrets which meas was payin’ me fer. Mebbe I clean fergot all about it. Mebbe I was too lazy an’ sore to want to travel so fur out o’ our way. Mebbe it don’t make no difference, anyway. ‘* Pards,” turning to the interested soldiers and the four scouts, ‘‘ you’re white. You don’t ax extra pay fer doin’ a good job, but you’ve got to takeit. I don’t lcok like astray Nash’nal bank, but I’ve got solid rocks enough to pay big fer the sarvice Lax of ye now, as man to man! Help me rig up a litter strong enough to tote this pore young feller to a palace whar he’ll stand some show fer his life. It'll be hard work, but [m ready to pay big wages, an—” ‘“Say what you want done, old man, and cheese the money part,” interrupted Dick Mc- Bride, with a half-frown. ‘*Durn the wages—but you kin make a pres- ent fer to git drunk on when we take a turn off duty,” grinned another of the scouts. ‘* Ef I don’t you kin shoot me!” Busily, deftly, they fell to work, making a lit- ter out of blankets and poles, and half an hour later the injured youth was being carried through the night. , The rain was still falling, but greatly moder- ated in its force. The breeze which had accom- ied its advent, bad died away, and Hen ornkohl had little difficulty in keeping bis torch alight as he led the way, directed when and where to turn by Boomer Balt, who was sturdily bearing one end of the litter. He had spoken no more than the simple truth when he said they would find it hard work, for the route was rough and difficult enough for men who had no weight to carry, and more than once the bearers were obliged to pause for breath, though as only four men could support the litter at a time, there was a ready relay at brief intervals. But the old guide so manfully layed his part, doing more than any two men in the party, that not a complaint was uttered. They left the plain behind them, pushing in- to the hills, following for the most part a nar- row, winding valley that might almost be called a canyon, its width was so little, its sides so pre- cipitous. Then up a steep, winding trail where progress was made only with the greatest diffi- culty; where the rain rendered their footing still more precarious: so narrow that the red glare of the torch was of silent utility tothe men who brought up the rear. And at length, with a long sigh of relief Boomer Balt pronounced the journey et an end. The torch-light showed them an opening in the rock wall, sufficiently high and wide for them to enter without shifting positions at the litter. And a few paces further on, this widen- ed and raised until a really spacious cavern opened before their curious gaze. The litter was gently lowered to the ground, the bearers dropping to the sanded floor, panting heavily. Boomer Balt bustled about, and ina very few minutes the ruddy glow of a fire began to fill the cave. ‘*Hope we're not intruding, old fellow!” grunted Henry Hornkohl as he glanced curious- ly around him, noting the rude but comfortable evidence of former occupation. There were a few skins hanging on the rock wall, with several army blankets, There was a pile of dry leaves and fine grass, showing traces of having been used more than once as a bed, There wasa pile of dry wood, and a smoke- stained fireplace where the draught led up through a chimney-like aperture. Til pay the rent, never you fret, pard,” laughed the boomer guide as he bustled about, piling skins and blankets on the rude couch, then assisting in placing poor Perry Wright up- on them. This done, and after a look to see that the jolting journey bad not loosened the bandages too much, Boomer Balt turned to his mates, speaking earnestly, rapidly: ‘“You know who we’re lookin’ fer, pards. You know that this lad is one o’ that fambly. You see how bad hurt be is, though I’m hopin’ he’ll pull through all right with the sort o’ help Tt kin fetch him. You see this—but who kin say what’s come to the rest o’ that fambly? ‘*'The most o vou hev heard o’ the man that is hest knowed as Oklahoma Nick. from his rangin’ fer years in these parts. So fur they ain’t nothin very black painted ag’inst bim on the open record, but 1 tell you a wuss critter -— oe 25 then that same Nick never drawed the breath life! An’ when you know that he’s actin’ as guide to this fambly, you kin give a guess that he don’t mean ’em noue too much good. ‘* What I want togitatis this: Tom O’Donnell sent you with us to fird «n’ turn back these folks. That’s your duty, en’] know ycu’'ll do it the best you know how, keepin’ inside the line o’ duty. But I ax ye to do more’n this—heap more! “It ain’t the nicest night fer to ke out, but ef you knowed they was wimmen in trouble, you wouldn’t stop to think o’ the weather nur yit o’ the time o’ day. You would feel like kickin’ me fer offerin’ you pay fer sech work, but when I put it as a favor, I know you'll let me say what sech a sarvice is wu’th. I ain’t wrong, pards?”’ ‘*Give us the rest, and we'll let you know,” dryly uttered McBride. os l went you to go out an’ bunt fer the camp o’ this pore lad’s fambly. I want ycu to Go it jest as ef you was each one workin’ to save his own wimmen folks. I don’t want the dark nur ther rain nur anythin’ else to hold ye back ircm doin’ your level best. An’ whether ye hit or whether ye miss, I'll bind myself to pay you twice over what you think is right fer the extry work. Thar itis; what say ye?’ | ‘* You think there is evil work then?” Boomer Balt turned and pointed to the uncon- scious giant, ‘* Don’t that look like it? How come he so? Who shot him? Who kivered him all over with cuts an’ bruises, like he’d bin chucked overa stone wall or down a kenyon? Oklahoma Nick! I b’lieve that as truly as I b’lieve they is a just God in the heavens over us this night!” His manner, even more than his words, won over the men, and after a brief consultation to- gether, the scouts and the soldiers announced their readiness to do what they could without further aa - Dark as the night was, they might be able discover the family by the light of their camp-fire. Strangely agitated, Boomer Balt shook hands with each man in succession, bidding them god- speed as they turned to leave the cavern and re- turn to where their animals had been left when they set out with the litter. Then Boomer Balt turned toward Henry Hornkobl, who alone re- mained in the cave with him. ‘‘And my part?” asked the detective, slowly. ‘*To stop here an’ look after the lad. You ain’t afeard to do it?” . The detective shrugged his shoulders by way of reply. Boomer Balt understood his meaning, and hurriedly added: — ‘‘I’m goin’ tofetch a nuss fer the boy, an’ I won’t be gone longer then I kin help. He wants better keer then either you or me kin give him ef he’s to pull through this sickness—an’ pull through he must! He’s too likely a lad to go under at the say-so of Nick Van Bibber!” ‘‘ What proof have you that Van Bibber did this evil work?” ‘*T feel it in the bones 0’ me,” was the quieter response. ‘* That sounds like a fool was talkin’, but it’s the nighest I kin come to the way I feel jest now. But to come back; I don’t reckon © relad. Even — you'll hev any trouble with the ef he does wake up flighty, he’ll be too weuk to make much of a figbt.” ‘* Don’t borrow trouble on my account, Uncle Balt,” was the quiet response. ‘‘ Ive handled crazy men before this, ard it takes a sound man to get away with me when I’ve got my eyes open. And I don’t feel much like sleeping— that’s a fact!” ‘‘Then Dll go, to git back all the sooner. Ef the lad wakes up an’ kin talk at all, urv to git at the bottom facts, pard.” ‘““You can trust me, Uncle Balt. Pull out, now!” 4 With a last lingering look at the young giant who seemed so dear to bis heart, the guide turn- ed and left the cavern. Henry Hornkohl went 4 es far as the entrance, bending hi- head in list-— ening until he heard Boomer Belt pass safely down the perilous path, Then he turned and went back to the side of the unconscious youth. It was a long, but not a weary vigil that Henry Hornkohl kept that night. ty of food for thought, and now that there ex- isted no reason for keeping a guard over his ex- He bad plen-— wo ’ ** » > ~<¢ | : sa? : ° : : . - . $ { od J pressive features, the red glow of tke fire fell — a countenance that registered many a c meee ae bis brain worked busily and persist- ently. Balt, and he strove to decide whether or no he was more than be seemed outwardly. He re- called their conversations, and went over the half-admissions dropped by the old man, nearly all of which pointed toa startling fraud—to a pretended dead man! ‘*} could almost helieve him Onesipborus © ae i Wright!” came mutteringly from the lips of the watcher. | He started at the sound of his own voice, and had led him. It was prenosterous! Old Wri was dead and in his grave. long since! forced a laugh as he realized whither bis Woks ~ Then he turned to thinking of the family for As | whom he was searching, and wondering what = fate had overtaken them—for he, too, seemed to ~comicbooks . Part of his thoughts turned upon Boomer — , se ~~ . af — a, - .: -