Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 472 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 Why, she’s built fur smoothin’ a galoot’s piller when he’s salted bad, an’ his blood’s a-b’ilin’ with fever, an’ the coyotes is howlin’ fur his bones; but the Lord never ‘lowed as her kind was fur slingin’ no cold meat with herown hand. Re- venge be blowed!” e spoke with bitter indignation, asif some evil spirit were tempting the woman to such un- womanly work, and he longed to throttle it and free her from its malign influence, ‘‘But she won’t be stood off,” he pursued, **an’ the Lord knows she’s had a pill as it’s hard fur human natur’ toswaller, I don’t blame her none. I reckon I'd do the same ef I was in her shoes. But you bet yer bottom dollar Six-foot Si ain’t a-standin’ by with his han’s in his bree- ches pockets, a-seein’ of her put through no sich er as “The ornery crittur’d orter go up the flume anyway; an’ef it comes to the pinch—her or me—I reckon it won’t set heavy on my stomach ef I give him the grand bounce, an’ save her the trouble an’ the recollection.” As he reached this conclusion, his blue eyes took on a look of implacable determination. Woe to the enemy on whom he resolved to wreak vengeance. The act was one of righteous requital, so he believed. A woman—the nature of his senti- ment for whom he had not yet acknowledged even to himself, but in whose behalf he would have truly said he was willing to die—was to be saved from an azt of violence unbefitting her womanhood, He asked no more. The country was in a fever of excitement. In everybody’s mouth he heard exaggerated ac- oa of the tragic events of the past few ays, he facts were briefly these: For four years aminer named Bob Cady had been puzzling over the directions, written in cipher, of a map purporting to locate a valuable mine, the his- tory of which had for -years made one of the marvelous stories that are told over and over again in mining-camps, losing nothing by repe- tition. When, on the verge of serra! with long sus- pense and alternating hope and despond, he had at last actually discovered the key, and made the cryptogram intelligible, he had quarreled babe his partner over the division of the pro- ceeds. Goaded by avarice, Joe Moran had killed Bob Cady, and the struggle for the precious crypto- sram had embroiled the two mining-camps of oyete and Mulligan’s Bend. n this contest the prize had fallen into the ossession of a league of three famous men— tiger Dick, Iron Despard, and the Sportive Sport—but through the interplay of their stormy passions, Joe Moran had at last secured it, With the assistance of a band of mountain outlaws, to whom he had held out the prospect of a share in the mine. At Mulligan’s Bend the betrothec of Bob Cady had presented herself, having crossed the Continent in quest of her lover, and arrived just in time to receive his corpse, and to swear on that bloody altar to avenge his death in the heart’s blood of his murderer. We have seen that Six-foot Si, a blonde giant, a nature’s nobleman, a gentleman in the rough, had resolved to take the execution of this oath upon himself, to save the woman from this terrible act of reprisal. Going from camp to camp in quest of Moran, he repeatedly ran across one particular man whose interest in this subject at last arres his attention. ‘¢ Why, he’s pumpin’ the boys. He’s shootin’ off his mouta free and keerless like; but when ary one else talks he’s a-takin’ of it all in.” nstantly Six-foot Si’s manner underwent a marked change. He had the keen, alert look of a sleuth-hound. ‘Tm onto ye, pard,” he muttered to him- self. ‘‘ Now hyar’s fur to see what ye’r’ worth, anyway.” om that moment he never lost sight of the talkative stranger. When, later in the evening, he left the camp, Six-foot Si was at his heels, moving like a ow. At a little distance, he went to where a horse was picketed off the road, out of sight and ear- shot of any chance traveler. Leading the animal back to the mountain thoroughfare, he mounted and rode away at a brisk trot. _ Now, Six-foot Si was a regular Indian when it came to traveling on foot, and it had been his boast that, in a long chase, he could run the legs off of the best horse that ever swung under a saddle. As the stranger evidently did not fear pursuit he did not press his horse, and so lost the advan- tage be would otherwise have had in a short race, in which, by taxing the powers of the ani- mal, he could easily have outstripped the man. Drawiug up his belt another hole, bringing his fists up to his breast so that his elbows hugged his sides closely, and closing his lips hard, Six- foot Siset out ata long, swinging lope, which carried him over the ground at a much greater speed than it seemed to. The steady, even play of his muscles reduced Six-Foot Si. the strain to the minimum, while his regular, deep inhalations, distributing the effort over all , the muscles that operated his lungs, gave prom- ise of long wind. : : However, when, he had run in this way for perhaps a mile, the veins in his neck were dis- tended and throbbing with heavy pulsations, and | it required a severe effort to keep his mouth shut so as to avoid panting. ; Then he slowed down to a rapid walk, getting | as much speed as possible out of strides as long | as was compatible with ease of movement, while | he still kept up his steady, deep breathing, | The effect of this maneuver was apparent at onee, The circulation began to equalize. The | fiery drumming in his head subsided, and a sense of renewed vigor diffused itself throughout his frame. He was getting his second wind. } Then he resumed his old gait, only running with greater lightness and swiftness. However, he was careful not to hurry, but kept himself well within the limit of his powers, | It is the worried nag that soonest fails. He was rewarded by again coming within earshot in the next mile. But now he discovered that while out of hear- ing, his man had been joined by another, A few minutes later he heard the clang of iron hoofs in his rear, as some one riding at full speed crossed a bit of rocky ground. ‘‘Bh! more of the same sort?” ejaculated Si. ‘*Seems to me, thar’s a pile o’ travel on this road to-night.” To step aside and wait for the rider to pass him would be to lose considerable ground. “Tll do better’n that,” said Si, to himself. ‘‘ With their clatter an’ bang, I reckon I kin steal a base on ‘em.” So he ran lightly yet swiftly forward, keeping about midway between the two. Again the sharp clang of the ennai rider rung out, so loud as to catch the ears of those in advance, and they instantly drew rein. _ But aman can stop much more abruptly than a horse can be pulled up, so at the first indica- tion of what he was on the lookout for, Six- foot Si halted and stepped aside into the covert, Just then the melancholy hoot of an owl broke upon the night. ——————— abrupt halt, the following horseman responded with the musical note of a night-bird, which was promptly answered by those in advance. He then passed Si at a gallop, and the three rode on in close confab. The irregular pace of three horses would make it safe for Si to shorten the distance between him and the horsemen; and when they left the road, proceeding in single file along a bridle- path where they had to walk their horses, he felt secure in the shadow of the trees, and got close enough to overhear what was said. ‘‘ Waal, Hank,” observed one of the men, ‘‘I don’t feel so had, bein’s as you’re in the same boat.” ‘‘No,” said another. ‘*‘ When Hank Budlong can’t pick up a trail, it’s a cold day fur anybody else.” ‘“ Cheese it, Jack!” exclaimed the voice of the man in pursuit of whom Si had set out. ‘‘Oh, I’m only follerin’ Shorty’s lead,” re- plied the last preceding speaker. ** An’ I didn’t pitch the trump,” added Shorty. * Any o’ the boys’ll tell ye that.” “‘T done what I could,” observed Hank, mod- estly. ‘*I reckon some lucky chap has done a darn sight better.” ‘“Ef they hain’t,” observed Jack, “ we're a- gittin’ on to Richmond fast!” “How did you work the racket?” asked Shorty. ‘* Waal,” answered Budlong, ‘I jest sot the ball to rollin’, an’ ‘lowed to pick up all the com- pany knowed, while they was wag zin’ their aws. “ An’ nobody had seen the ornery galoot?” ‘*¢ Neither hide nor hair.” ** Blast him! thar won’t be hide nor hair of him left, ef we once git our flippers on him!” Jack swore with a savageness which showed that he shared Shorty’s animosity to the full, Six-foot Si was puzzled by this dialogue. ‘* Ef I’m on the right trail, an’ these hyar ga- loots is Moran’s crowd, what air they shoutin’ ' about?’ he asked himself. ‘‘I ‘lowed as that chap was givin’ the boys a stiff, when he let on not to know whar Moran is, but he wouldu’t keep it up with hisown gang. Can it be as Joe has throwed off on ’em? Bet Dll know before daylight.” Presently the men reached an open glade, which was evidently a rendezvous, for they were eagerly greeted by others already on the spot. - ee they had posted no sentry, it_ was plain that they feared no espionage, so Six-foot Si had no difficulty in creeping almost into their very miast. Where he could hear everything that was said, he found a fallen tree, half-covered by the trunk of which he lay at length and listened. The night was chilly, and the dampness of the woods from a recent rain-fall, made this any- thing but a cosey rendezvous. a aa it to Six-foot Si. **P}] jest spot you chaps,” he said to himself, fixing mis keen eyes upon the: faces in turn, as they were most plainly revealed. ‘‘ Pll want to know ye whenever an’ wherever I see ye This was evidently a signal, for, coming to an | Against this inclemency the boys had started a small fire of fat pine, which now served to betray the features of any one who approached ag’in,” They were as precious a set of scoundrels as ever banded together to prey upon their fellows, and that night Six-foot Si photographed upon his memory a rogues’-gallery which was des- tined to be of inestimable value to him in the near future. From the eagerness with which Hank Bud- long was consulted, it appeared that he was the leading spirit of the company, and every one was greatly dejected by his report of failure. ““T tell ye what it is, pards,” growled one of the disappointed men, *‘ Moran never ‘lowed to give us no show in this hyar thing.” ‘“- You bet he didn’t,” assented another. ‘‘ He ‘lowed to use us to git the cryptogram, an’ then give us the dirty shake—that’s what he done,” Whereupon the outlaws fell to swearing lus- tily at the rascal who had tricked them—a pro- ceeding which may have afforded some relief to their ih but certainly did not otherwise better their situation. Others kept dropping into the glade, until the slippery outlaw’s whole party was assembled, Each in turn was eagerly questioned, and all told the same story of failure. In each instance every one present found but one relief—execra- tion of Joe Moran. ‘* But what’s to be done?’ was at last de- manded. ‘More o’ the same,” said Hank Budlong, sen- tentiously. * Allright! Thar ain’t no back-down in me.” **TP}] see this thing through, ef [’'m the last man on the ticket.” ‘* While Joe Moran’s above ground, I ‘low to put in all my time on him!” This sentiment seemed to receive universal indorsement. ig Then Budlong assigned to each his further uty. ‘*The which I don’t want nothin’ better’n that,” chuckled Six-foot Si. ‘‘TPIl know whar to find you chaps when I want ye.” But now happened one of those concurrences of events which cannot Le forecast and pro- vided against. The whole band of ruffians began to move preparatory to dispersion, when one of their number observed: ‘*T reckon Pll git a gad an’ have it out with that ornery beast o’ mine. He pitched the trump all the way hyar, but you bet yer sweet life he’ll play to my lead goia’ back, or he’ll pass out.” The tree under which Six-foot Si was en- sconced, was a hickory, that, by the combined action of a wash-out and the wind, had been thrown down, leaving a part of its roots un- injured, From the upper side of the trunk had started a lot of fresh roots, growing straight and supple, than which no better goad could be desired. Looking about for a switch with which to dis- oe his horse, the ruffian stumbled upon these. ‘‘Hyar’s what I’m after, made to my hand,” he muttered. And, standing so close that his feet almost touched Six-foot Si’s body, he proceeded to select what he wanted, more by the sense of touch than of sight. Now, by his long run Six-foot Si had been thrown into a profuse perspiration, and he discovered, when it was too late to change his ne he that he had crept into a very damp erth. Just as the unconscious ruffian approached him, he had the first symptom of taking cold. ‘Forty million demons with forty million straws!” he ejaculated, internally, seizing his nose between the finger and thumb of both hands, and pressing with all his might on his mouth. But it was of no use. The titillatng sensa- tion ran up and down and around. It tortured him until he felt as if he should burst. Then it waned so that he began to hope that he had conquered it. But it returned with ten-fold intensity. He made a frantic effort to rally his forces, but thea enemy burst through his lines, and the sneeze that signaled his utter rout was a perfect explosion. The astonished ruffian leaped back with a muttered exclamation. Knowing that his detection was past recall, Si scrambled to his feet, and stood looking at his dismayed enemy across the trunk of the fallen tr ee. It was lucky for his future purpose that the interposition of foliage between him and the fire threw his face and figure in dense shadow, else he would have been betrayed to at least one of the outlaws where everything depended upon his remaining unknown. ‘“‘ Hallow, Sam!” shouted a voice from the ee. e Did you go off thar by yerself to take sn But Sam was listening to something far more . etd eS pad ieee) yt _— =a