Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 488 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

Yes 16 ' 2 - Ps ~The = +f . ~ - ri . - TA ~* . . on * a Beas «iy i? 4 Pn a « v, The Thoroughbred Sport. * —~ fay on the rocks between himself and the giant | refugee. ‘Pll answer the scoundrel, pardner!” he grimly muttered, but the Big Bracer caugbt his arm with a marvelously strong hand fora dying man, sharply crying: “Are you going crazy, man? throw away the only hope left for Olly? Would you show that devil in human shape the substi- tute ve found for the miserable wreck he’s left in me?” Hart Oakes slowly, reluctantly let the rifle touch the rocks again, a flush of half-shame tinging his cheeks under that flerce gaze. ‘**T forgot—when I remembered all that devil’s done to you, pardner! Yes—you’re right, I reckon. Let him yelp his throat sore if it likes him!” ‘** | would, only he’d send his whelps down to make sure of my death if he don’t get his an- swer,” grimly uttered Gypsy Gale, picking up | the rifle and using it as an aid to regain his feet. Hart Oakes caught him by the arm, quick as thought. **Hasy, pardner! You’re not going—” Gypsy Gale turnea to meet bis frowning gaze, smiling faintly. ‘I’m not going to throw for suicide again, if that’s what you mean, pardner; but — you hear?” ** Big Bracer, ahoy!” came floating down the river-bed. ‘* Are you too thoroughly cowed to answer to your title? Has the shadow of the hangiran’s noose scared you to death?’ **He’s only trying to get you into sight, so some of his cappers can pot you, pardner!” warningly muttered Oakes. ‘IT know, but Pll keep my eyes open, Better a little extra risk now, than take the chances of his finding out that I have a mate in the game!” quickly responded Gale, hobbling ing the muzzle of his rifle into view as he shouted in tones strong and clear—so much so that Oakes felt no little marvel, and began todoubt whether Gale could be so badly hurt, after all! ** Hello to you, Judd Varley! 1f you reckon I'm dead or dying, why don’t you come down and bid me farewell?” ** Reckon I will, if you can assure me it’s real- ly you that’s talking, Gypsy!” came the mocking “a never did walled-in waters. ou know I on ghosts.” ‘Pll make one out of your dirty carcass, if you dare show your face from cover, craven!” ** Wace your hand, and l’ll string mine along- side, Gypsy! You’ve taken my word before this; t it now! ep out into the light of day, unless you fear to show the brand of Cain on your noble brow, and [ll do the same. I pat it fairer?” ‘Careful, pardner!” warningly uttered Oakes as he saw the refugee making a movement. ** All he wants is a pot-shot at you, man!” The Big Bracer, with a grim smile, glanced ever his shoulder with a slight nod. The trick was entirely too thin, and he was on his guard, _ Inch by inch he was scanning the brink above, as he slowly rnoved his head outward, hoping to catch a glimpse of his bitterest enemy in time to send a bullet searching for his life. But Judd _ Varley was too wary for that. And as though angered by the delay in answering his last taunt, he sharply shouted: ** Talk’s cheap, but it won’t buy chips, Gypsy! You're in a hole, and you'll never slip out of it with life! Why, you poor fool! If it wasn’t that the boys have sworn to string youupa tree for murdering poor old Undermill, they’d riddle you this instant!” . “Ts seeing before shooting, Varley |” ‘Bah! they’ve got you lined with a dozen guns, right now! The rocks are full of them—a regular masked battery, Gypsy! If you can’t swallow that— Let him have it, lads !” Mingling with his last words came a rattlin forward, | ausing at the curving edge of the niche, thrust-' | nse, distinct enough despite the roar of the | Can | Would you | here. The latch-string’s out, and ’m ready to entertain callers—even such miserable curs as you !” | ‘* Maybe I will—but later, Gypsy. Just now I’ve got sweeter business on hand. I’ve got an appointment with a young lady—fair and rare and sweet as a posy in May, Gypsy!—named | Olive Tempest!” The refugee visibly staggered at this, and | there was an awful expression on his haggard face and in his hollow eyes as he turned to the young sport, thrusting out the rifle, buskily gasping: ‘* Take it—hold me—I’ll have to face him if you—” Seeing how surely that malicious shaft had sped home, Oakes caught the wretched father in his arms, gently lowering him to the rocks, | holding him firmly yet tenderly, knowing that if more came he would be mad enough to throw away his life in the vain attempt to stiJl those foul and malicious lips. And beyond a doubt he would have had to exert actual force, only for ' the fact that, evercome by bis exertions, Gypsy discharge of rifles and pistols, but the giant ref- | ugee drew quickly back, and only the rock was | wounded by the spiteful missiles. Then, with marvelous celerity for one so hurt and crippled, Gypsy Gale stepped out from cover, rifle at shoulder, his eyes keenly search- | ing for a victim, believing that, in his eagerness to note the effect of that volley, J ada Varley would briefly expose himself to view. He reasoned correctly, for he canght a glimpse of his hated foeman peering down the rift, and sent a bullet whistling in that direction. But on a fruitless mission. For, even as he pressed the trigger, he saw the wary scoundrel dodge swiftly back under cover, An example which Gale instantly imitated, regaining the niche just in time to escape a couple of shots from above. And his voice rung out in a mocking, defiant peal of laughter as he cried aloud to his enemy: ‘**T showed my face, and it scared you into a fit, Judd Varley!” ‘It’s ugly pee for twice that, Gypsy!” c came floating “Tis the face of a man, and the liar isn’t aaah that'll ever say as much about yours, Var- sey fag fainted, probably for the first-time in all is life, For Judd Varley did not stop with what has been recorded, Still hoping to madden the father into rushing forth from cover, he sent down his vile taunts, one after another, sparing nothing which he fancied might gain his devilish ends, They can find no record here. They proved the speaker to be beyond the pale of humanity, and as he listened, it was all Hart Oakes could do to refrain from snatching up the rifle and leaping forth in hopes of stilling that foul tongue for all time. But he managed to contain himself, doubly thankful for the stupor which dulled the senses of the giant refugee, Then, fearful lest Judd Varley might suspect Gypsy Gale had died of his former hurts, he cried aloud, copying the deep tones of the gambler as well as he could, knowing that the roaring waters would cover any difference. ** Keep on, if you think there’s no hereafter, Judd Varley! Each word you utter is another nail in your coffin!” ‘* Your fist will never clinch them, Gypsy!” **Come and whisper as much in my ear, won't you? Now—I’m done with talk. Actions are good enough for me,” For a little while longer Varley kept up his foul taunts, but as no answer came, and as he | had no good reasons for thinking tbat grim de- fiance had come from other than the lips of the Big Bracer, he ceased, to concoct some more profitable scheme. ‘¢ Thank the Lord for so much, anyway!” mut- tered Oakes, with a breath of relief as he saw the refugee show signs of recovering his senses, **f couldn’t have kept him in, short of tying him neck and heels, while that foul-mouthed cur was pouring out his filth. Now—how goes it?” Gypsy Gale forced a wan smile as he opened his eyes to see that frank, kindly face bending over him solicitously. He pushed back the hands which offered to lift him to a sitting pos- ture, saying: ‘* Let me—so!” with a short, grim laugh as he raised himself, showing an actual increase of strength, even so soon. ‘‘T can’t understand it, pardner!” and Oakes shook his head in wonder, not untinged with awe. ‘* You’ve got it bad enough to lay out half a dozen strong men, and yet— I say, pard- ner!” with a forced smile on his pale face. $ bol don’t tote a cast-iron interior about with ou sé Gypsy Gale shook his head, his face shadowing afresh. ** No—it’s pardner, an long.” ‘*l know better, old fellow,” was the cheery retort. ‘‘ You’re growing stronger with every hour. By dusk you'll be as good asever. And when that comes, we'll skin out o’ this hole some way. Wel'll fool that rascal up yonder, and pull Olly out of the fire, too quick!” ‘*T wish [ could think it—it would be a taste of heaven after an*eternity of hell!” moodily muttered the gambler. ‘‘ But I know better than to hope it. It’s fate—and the instant [ gone clean through the hollow, itll put my light out before _ found that stolen letter from Olly, I knew that | it meant my death. It’s fate, pardner. And what ts to be, will be.” ‘* When it comes, Ill try to believe it, but not until then. Now—that fellow mentioned the name of Olive Tempest?” **That?s Olly, vou know, mate,” with a faint smile. ‘‘I told you I tried all I knew to Keep my rea] life from her. The better to do that, took another form of my name: turned Tempest into Gale. My rightful name is Stuart Tempest. Hers is Olive Tempest. Don’t forget that, for it’s the name she’ll travel by, and there mustn’t be any mistake made by you.” © “Tf I didn't know and feel that so strongly, pardner, I’d be coaxing Pas to lie down and tr tocatchanap. And Olly—she’s a little girl, think you said?” * Little? I always think of her as little, but— But talk is too hard work so far off. If | she’s now about nineteen years old,” musingly you want to say anything more, come down muttered the refugee. ey — ) : 4, > we . Es We. "la Le ~ ty 1% ~ See La oh ir su : her as other than a mere child! eh Hart Oakes gave a start, his eyes openin wide. Nineteen! And he bad never thought of Nineteen! A young lady—and bequeathed to his sole care and guardianship! **Pard, you’ve got to get out of this with me,” he muttered, his face hardening, his eyes grow- ing graver than was their wont. ‘* Pll back your game until my light is put out, but I can’t play a lone hand with—a young lady! Why, pardner, she wouldn’t loo?’ at me, Jet alone come under my wing just on an empty say-so from a clean stranger! ou’ve got to make the riffle, if I have to swim with you sit- ting on my back!” ‘* Pll never leave this hole alive, I tell you!” with a frown. ‘I’ve got my billet, and you'll have time to shove me into the drink before it’s time to strike out. And before then— listen, pard,” his tones softening as he added: “‘T’ve made it as smooth sailing for you as I knew how. I’ve written to Olly—it’s in that note-book, mind. I’ve told her to put her trust | in you, and to follow your advice just as she would follow mine if I were near enough to give it.” Hart Oakes said nothing in response. Some- how he felt a strange dread—he could find no better term—of this young ward,so curiously placed under his protection. And yet—people had always considered him something of ‘' a lady’s man!” ‘‘As near as I could calculate, from the date of ber letter, and the distance she will have to come, Olly will most likely be on to-morrow’s stage, I don’t think she can get here sooner, _and if so, and you get clear to-night, as you must, you can meet her far enough from Silver Lode to give Judd Varley and his gang the shake!” ‘*1’ll do my prettiest, parduer,” said the sub- dued sport, quietly, though the uneasy light still shone in his big blue eyes, ‘*‘ But I’m not giving up my notion of taking you along with me. I have to make the riffle alone, ll cash in before harm comes to her. If she comes ahead of your calculations, though?” ‘‘Fight for her as you would want a white man to fight the battles of your own flesh and blood if they were in trouble!” flashed Gale, his eyes aglow. ‘‘ Kill Judd Varley, and tell my story as your excuse, Snatch my poor child from his foul grip, and—and—” Once more his voice was choked by that frightful agony. Once more he fought with grim death, his face dampening, his muscles rigid, his sunken eyes seeming to glaze over with a film, CHAPTER XIX, AN AWFUL EXPERIENCE. LITERALLY helpless, unable even to give the sufferer a sup of the cold water running so freely just beyond reach of his hand, Hart Oakes sat watching the wounded gambler, fight- ing back death as few men have fought it be- ore. With each attack the Parone a0 appeared to grow worse, until it was little short of a miracle that even his iron will had not long since given way for all. It could not have been because he still hoped to escape. There had been nothing like pretense in his declared fatalism. He felt that his wounds would surely slay him, and he never expected to leave that niche in this life. As far as possible, he had guarded against the evil plots of his arch enemy. He had done more to insure the safety and escape of his strangely-met substitute than any other man out of a thousand, even though there was 4 fierce thirst for vengeance mingling with his bold offer of his own life to the enemy. ‘“‘Tf he only had proper care—if he was where he could be ‘nur and watched over!” muttered Oakes, his own face almost as pale and haggard as that of the sufferer beside whom he was watching. Little by little Gypsy Gale won the victory, temporary though it doubtless was. is rigi arm relaxed. His blood-stained. hand |slowly fell away from his breast. His lids closéd, and a full, long breath filled his lungs for the first time in many moments. ‘“You’re easier, pard?’ murmured Oakes, bending nearer, fearful that the anticipated end had at last come, ‘* You can hear me talk?” A faint smile lit up the ghastly face as the sport gently, softly wiped his sweat bedewed — brow, and those dark eyes opened feebly, And yet his voice did not sound altogether like that of a dying man as he said: ‘‘Why not, pardner? You’ve whatacorker you’d be for the you ever fell so low!” It was ‘‘ the ruling passion,” but Oakes could pot even smile in return. He had been gazing into the face of grim death too long. And then this marvelous vitality partly stupefied him. a come—but not yet—not until Pve told— ‘‘ Wait until you’re stronger. Try to catch a little nap. know enough to play the game out, alone if I have to, but I want to take you ot a voice— eno-wheel, if along out o’ this trap. I will, if you'll be guid- ed by me a bit, too!’ Gypsy Gale shook his head in dissent, If» . i > 7 at , ee Br, is =! oo i ~ ¢ ae ‘ Ape vor “gh pe +" on «i , 3} j u ’ :