Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 453 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

: stay!” ejaculated humor at the old fellow, and ch oe The once sport of Silver Deck shook his head, but there was a smile on his face. ‘‘On her shoulder wasa mark like the scar left by a branding-iron,” continued Donald. ‘‘The man who saw it that night said it looked like a coiled serpent with a dagger between its jaws. Over the scar were two letters which he could not make out.” ; “Did they whip Belle Faro?’ exclaimed Cyclone, sending the words out through his teeth. ‘* She told them to strike at the brand with their whips, She begged them to cut the scar out, and not to let_up until the work was well done. But Porto Banco threw the whip down, and the woman was untied. He said that she had suffered enough from the brand, and when he asked her about it, she exclaimed that it was -going to cost somebody his beauty, if not his and since then until to- ife. They let her go been in San Pedro after night, she bas not -dark.” ‘‘She never told me a word about this,” mut- tered Cyclone. ‘‘ Then she can keep a secret,” laughed Donald. ‘But the scar on her person? What do you know about it?” ‘‘More than I intend to teil you, Captain Donald,” was the response, as the eyes of the two sports met. ‘‘She was a criminal once, and in a foreign -country, for they don’t burn people in America, Maybe she has been to the French prisons.” ‘“She never saw one.” ‘¢ Well, the brand is there, and there it will Donald, ‘*‘ As I[ have said, ou may find Belle Faro at Sancho’s house. Seinsbo and his boy, the brat Juan, are her San Pedro allies. Then Donald proceeded to tell Cyclone how to reach the place where he expected to find Coral, and almost before the last word had left his lips, the Silver Deck sport was off. ‘¢ Don’t I know that a link of some kind con- mects him with that woman?’ cried Donald the Dark, when he found himself alone in the cele- brated private room which had witnessed more than one thrilling scene. ‘‘ She never liked me because I was Major Mystery’s friend. There is hatred and jealousy at the bottom of her game against the Russian. If I knew where the girl edora is, I'd see that Belle Faro never finds her.” Meantime, Cyclone was on his way to! Sancho’s house. He had come to San Pedro a little too late to find Colonel Redpath, but he would not be too late to keep Coral froin the trail. He found the house without difficulty, and the next moment his knuckles were at the door. Sancho opened it in person, and his eyes grew large when they took in the figure of Cyclone, ‘*T have a message for Belle Faro,” the sport said, stepping into the house, ‘ rac gave him a cautious and searching ook, ** Let me have it,” he went on, extending his hand. | re ge drew back and laughed. ‘* Do they deliver messages of importance to outside parties in San Pedro?” ejaculated Cy- clone. ** Belle Faro cannot receive yours,” * Why not?” ‘* Because she is gone,” : **Too late again!” exclaimed the Colorado sport. ‘‘ This has been my luck through life.” Then he took a quick step toward Sancho whom he touched significantly as he looked into his eyes. ‘* Belle Faro was pace | for me, Sancho,” he said. ‘‘Tbe event which took place in San Pedro awhile ago was hurried up by the man who took Major Mystery off. Iwas to be here to help Belle Faro. I must find her. That is my message. Now, where is she, Captain Sancho?” The old San Pedroan was not to be taken in by any chaff of this kind. He seemed to see that Coral would fare better if the man was not near, She had left no word for him, therefore she was not Jooking for him in San Pedro, Sancho held his tongue and gave Cyclone looks which maddened him. “You don’t want me to assist Belle Faro,” cried Cyclone. ‘Tt is not that,” was the answer. ‘I don’t know where she is.” ‘*‘ Liar!” roared the Silver Deck sport, out of agrined over the time he was losing. ‘‘ You ought to be shaken out of your boots!” ‘‘ Mebbe the captain wants to it?’ cried pence. and a moment later he jerked loose rom Cyclone, and laughed derisively till his parchment-colored face looked like an imp’s. ‘‘No! I wouldn’t soil my hands with you!” And Cyclone strode to the door. ‘‘You and ed can keep all the little secrets you ®) Sancho was still showing his teeth when Cy- clone rushed out, and turned in a rage toward the plaza. ‘* Curse this town and its people!” he exclaim- ed, unable to keep back his anger. ‘‘I don't care what becomes of Colonel Redpath and 4 f~, ~ . # 7; A an “x per. _~ Captain Coldgrip’s Long Trail. 25 Coral, Let them fight it out. accomplish her revenge because the count has drop into the hands of Captain Coldgrip, and he has too much at stake Pi let her get at the Palace Scorpion. For a dollar, I'd go to Frisco and begin anew.” ‘‘ What has crossed you, Cyclone?” asked a voice, as a man who had been watching the Colorado sport stepped forward and peered into his face. Cyclone looked once, and with a slight start held out his hand. ‘* Will you chake with me, Mark Million?” he asked. ‘I haven’t seen you since you sent Natty Nick to his long account on the jumping- grounds of Yellow Jacket. What is on the pro- gramme now?” The man whom Cyclone addressed was the late boss of Silver Deck, seen last by the reader when he left Broncho Buck, alias Natty Nick, dead in the jumping-park, He took the extended hand, and leoked for a moment into its owner’s eyes. ‘*Tt is time for you to cut loose from Colonel Redpath, the Russian sleuth and assassin,” he said. ‘‘ Captain Coldgrip will assuredly turn on you for the shot in the suburbs of Silver Deck, if you persist in helping this rascal. Stand in with me, and all will be well. I have just come to San Pedro, but I have not been idle. Colonel Redpath had more friends here than Donald of the Paradisoranch. He made fifty enemies when he marched the Russian through the saloon and carried him off. In a certain house in this town, within the past few minutes, a number of men, des oes all, have sworn to follow Captain Claude, and to rescue his prisoner at all hazard. You can’t forget, Cyclone, that the woman he marked for life with a hot iron was once your wife. You ought to help throw Colonel path into her hands, or to let New York justice receive him from the clutches of Claude Coldgrip.” oC weey let slip an oath, “T am with you, Captain Mark!” he cried. > ae foreign ferret has lost an ally and gained a foe!’ CHAPTER XXXII. THE FOE IN THE REAR. ‘* It has been a long trail, captain.” ‘** And a busy one.” ‘*The end is not yet. ing.” ** Thank you, colonel.” The two men who exchanged words like these were riding across the valley that held San Pedro. The California town with its mixed popula- tion was at their backs, and its lights had al- ready faded out. Need it be said here that the horsemen were eo Coldgrip and his prisoner? e time was a little while after the success- ful catch we have already witnessed. The men were riding ina southwesterly di- rection, and the trail was well defined and easily distinguished in the night. The two horses kept close together, and the black cord that extended from Colonel Red path’s body to his captor’s saddle was not taut. ‘The girl, Medora, is still an unwilling pris- oner, is she not, colonel?” suddenly continued the detective. ‘** The girl you are yet to find!” was the quick reply, and then the Russian laughed. ‘ They tell me, Captain Claude, that you promised Grant Thurston to find her?” ‘*I did, and I will!” declared the sleuth. “The a is not at an end, colonel. If you think Medora’s mountain prison is unknown to every one in San Pedro, you are greatly mis- taken,” Colonel Redpath gave Coldgrip a look of amazement. ‘* You have been tracked from San Pedro to the girl by a person who offered to lead me to the spot,” continued Captain Claude, as the Russian’s astonishment increased. ‘But just then I was after larger game. The mountain cage will yet give up its bird ” Not for you, captain! Not for the Ameri- can sleuth-hound who has followed me across the New World!” ‘** We shall see.” On, on across the valley rode the two men, hunter and hunted, under the myriad stars that glittered in the vault of heaven. All at once both caught the sound of an ap- proeing horse. The neigh was between them and San Pedro. A score of thoughts chased one another through the Russian’s brain, Who was behind them?—Donald, the Dark, or was it a band of California toughs bent on depriving Captain Coldgrip of the fruits of his victory? The detective had heard the sound, as Colonel Redpath could see by his countenance, but the horses kept on as if no Slap was in the rear. The Scorpion of the Palace kept on the alert. The horse behind them was certainly on the trail. The neigh was not repeated, and neither of the steeds in advance bad answered it. Here and there through the valley grew clumps of trees and cacti. About these were I give you fair warn- 4 4 tea 4 te > i —~ Th Pie igus A ee — Peas — is FS . - es 2 4 She will never | dark shadows that extended some distance, and in them one could not be seen. At length, when the New York sleuth and his risoner reached one of these clumps, the two ses came toa halt. Captain Coldgrip turned in the saddle and looked back. e was watching for the trailer in hisrear. The unknown quantity was engag- ing his attention, for with the Russian ** ele- phant” on his hands, he could not afford to be followed by asecret foe. For some minutes the two men saw nothing, but in the end a dark object evolved itself from the starlight and halted some distance from the cacti clump. Captain Coldgrip leaned forward and watched it intently for some moments. He saw that he had been followed by a single steed, whose rider was discernible, but of course he could make out nothing but the outlines. Colonel Redpath observed the statue on the trail with a curiosity equal to the Atlantic sleuth’s. There was a gleam of hope in his eyes, and his breath went in gasps of suppressed excitement, Now and then he looked toward Captain Claude, who never took his eyes from the stran- ger. He saw a cocked revolver in the detective’s hand, and then he would try to calculate the distance between them and the trailer. It was plain to Captain Coldgrip that the in- dividual whom he watched believed that the shadows of the cacti concealed the people he had been following. If not, why did he not approach? All at once the revolver of the detective went up, and was pushed forward over the head of his _“*He is going to try his hand!” mentally ex- claimed Colonel path. ‘‘Captain Claude believes that the trailer is within pistol-shot.” ‘*What do you say, colonel?’ whispered the New York sleuth, turning tohis prisoner, *‘ Can I hit the fellow out yonder?” ‘* This distance is deceptive,” was the reply. ‘‘ Besides, Captain Claude, you don’t know whom you are firing at.” The revolver was lowered, and a smile parted the American detective’s lips. ‘‘T might unseat a friend of yours, eh, colo- nel?” he laughed. ‘Tm not afraid of that, for I think I rode © friendless from San Pedro.” ‘*Let the fellow go,” and Captain Coldgrip foe up the lines again. ‘‘ We will try him a ittle further, count, The following moment the two horses had left the cacti, and moved over the valley trail as it was defined beyond. ‘* He has left his place,” cried the American, ‘*He rides while we ride, and rests his horse when we draw rein. I like an accommodating fellow like that.” For some time no particular notice was taken of the solitary rider; but occasional glances backward showed that he was still on the trail, ‘*Let him have his way,” thought Captain Coldgrip. ‘‘ The time will come for him toshow his band if he intends to play one for the colo- nel, and that is undoubtedly his mission.” Colonel Redpath saw the valley lengthening behind them, and the mountains rising before seemed to suggest escape from the buman sleuth- hound who had won the last play. But the rope which he could not break, and the thongs that secured his limbs to bis steed’s sides were the irons that galled him. In the mountains the cacti clumps disappear- ed, and the trees in some places hid the gleams of the stars. ‘* Are we near Medora?” asked the New York detective, leaning toward the Russian at a cer- a Fare rt ths guck repo : a fool?’ was the quic , ; am Coldgrip replied with a light augh. ‘You are not clever at all, colonel,” he said. ‘*T presume you would not locate Medora’s — whereabouts for a knife at your ropes.” “Try me!” exclaimed the Russian, a flash vite stantly lighting up his eyes. The New York detective returned a look which told the fcreign sleuth that the banter meant nothing serious. - ‘* You can’t buy my secret, sir,” abruptly re- sumed Colonel Redpath. ‘‘I wish to tell you here, Captain Coldgrip, that if I go back to the States with you or anybody else, Grant Thurs- ton, the Siberian exile, will never see his child alive!” The countenance of the Russian exhibited the passion in which his words were spoken, They came through his teeth like the hiss of a serpent, and sym POH in his saddle, he threw a glance back as if he at that moment invited a charge by the persistent trailer in the rear. The among the mountains was not sinu- ous, like such trails often are. It led almost direct across the to War Eagle, a small town on the Southern Pacific. Captain Coldgrip seemed in no hurry. He probably knew the train schedule posted in the depot at War Eagle, and was timing him- self to reach the town just in time to - ” - ’ * i ” acer- — rf : Co} i L| av A * ‘ ~\ =F. » f = . fy try La” Me mb re. soe } * oe ‘ ¥ f< aM « = * » om : > > — ee * . —_