Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 488 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

ves Gey ess ‘*T wish you might, but that'll never be. I'll sleep, but first—your real name, pardner. And that bill of sale—better all in one hand. [Tm good for that much!” “Then you'll try to nap a bit?” persisted Oakes. ‘* Better—I'll do it. Give me the book—there’s a on Vith a strange reluctance for which he could not fully account, since surely he need never make use of the document unless he saw fit, Oukes complied, fitting the little fountain pen in readiness for the hand of the owner. ~The Thoroughbred = > ee A . = ~s c —— oy oF OAT ES ; jee oe = = : a <1 ee thing creeping down the whitened surface below it *Tt’s a good sign enough. Long as it lays there they’li not need toaskif I’m here,” he nodded, grimly resuming his former position. A few savage curses and threats came to bis ears from the enemy above, but Oakes only scowled in response. He was sleepy, sore all over, thirsty and hungry. Just then he felt that he didn’t care how soop the gang came at bim in a bunch, But this was not to be. In a little while si- And he | lence reigned above, and not another sound watched Gypsy Gale as he slowly but firmly | came to him during the remainder of that and with undeniable legibility filled his name | in the blank left for it when the note was first written. ** Good against law—and devil!” grimly smiled the Big Bracer as he gazed at his completed work, No need for Oakes to ask the meaning of that sentence. Right well he knew those last words applied to Judd Varley. ** Now you'll try to get some rest, pardner?”’ he coaxingly asked, as he carefully secured the note-book and contents upon his person. ‘ It’s not much of a place for style, but with my extra duds I reckon we can manage to rig up a bunk that won’t be quite so hard as this rock floor. Say you'll trust me on guard, and sleep as long as possible?” Gypsy Gale nodded assent, slight start he uttered: “If it turns out to be—if I cash in, pardner, when I don’t know it—promise me one thing?’ Oakes nodded promptly, unable to resist that strange eagerness, ‘*Make my carcass of some use! [ool that devil up yonder! Swear that you’!l try it, if 1 croak before dark! Yell out or shoot until you know they’re watching, then lift me up and shove:me into the drink, like I was still living— like I was cheating ’em’ even in death!” With almost terrible earnestness he panted forth these words, and though he shivered from top to toe, Oakes bowed his head in assent. ‘I'll do it just as you say, pardner—if J must,” ‘It’s sworn to, remember, pardner!” smiled Gypsy Gale, as bis head fell back and his eyes closed languidly. ‘*‘ Now [’ll—good-night, pard!” Was it sleep, or was it thecalm approach of a merciful death? Hart Oakes hardly dared ask himself this, just then. He took off bis coatand gently slipped it under the head of the wounded man. He could do no more than that, without disturbing that—was it sleep? “Tt looks mighty like the pure white article!” he muttered below his breath as he watched the giant. ‘‘If I didn’t know he has been dying all day, ’'d swear he was only a mighty tired out man! It gets me—gets me all to pieces!” It was marvelous in his eyes, this great vital- ity. With his experience in gun-shot wounds, Oakes knew that, in nineteen cases out of every twenty, a man struck so near the heart by a heavy bullet would have died without even a sound, ‘* And not one in a thousand could have trav- eled a mile after it! Yet—look at him! Five holes in his carcass, without counting that! Count up all he’s done and suffered since, and then—look at him! Sleeping as sound and easy as a little baby in its mother’s arms!” More than ever at sea, Hart Oakes waited and watched, his strange vigil broken occasion- ally by shouts from the enemy above, or by a spiteful bullet spatting harmlessly against the rock. At length one came closer and at a different anne from the rest, and Oakes picked up the WwW Then, with a nchester, stealing a little forward, bis “ae er quickly resting on a blue curl of smoke furt down the river, rising up the face of the canyon wall, One at least of the gang had managed to lower himself to a ledge or crevice several yards below the top, thinking from there to catch a view of the Big Bracer. With a hard, merciless smile the sport waited and watched, rifle cocked and muzzle bearing on the covert, ready for a snap-shot in case nothing more sure was offered him. Then the head of a buman being popped up in view, dis- tinctly visible against the light rocks which formel a background, only to as swiftly drop out of sight again. c “That won’t wash, pardner,” grimly mut- tered the sport, never removing his keen gaze for an instant. ‘‘I want my money’s worth when And now I’ve got it !” Viciously the last words crossed his lips, blending with the sharp report of his rifle, Without looking, he felt the result of that quick aim. He knew his lead was not wasted, and he turned quickly toward the wounded gambler. To his surprise, Gypsy Gale never stirred a muscle at the report, confined as it sounded in that little niche. He was soundly sleeping. His respiration was long, steady, wonderfully unlike that to be looked for in a man so sorely wounded. Satisfied of this, Oakes looked toward the crevice beyond, a bard, bitter sneer curling his lips as he saw the bare head of a human being lying on the rock, and a tiny stream of some- day. Au through those long hours Gypsy Gale slept, calmly, quietly asa wearied child, Oakes sat moodily watching over him, bis brain busy with all that had happened since his first being haited by Bark Matson. Tt was almost dusk down in that narrow chan- nel when Gypsy Gale opened his eyes and lifted himself to a sitting posture, his muscles acting much m-re freely than at any time since Oake met him. And his voice was wondrousl strengthened, too, it seemed, for he spoke clear ly and without apparent difficulty: ‘Tvs mighty nigh time for your starting, pardner,” ** When I go, you go with me, Gale.” The Big Bracer made no immediate response. He rose to his feet, drew ina long breath mov- ing his arms and legs as though testing. his powers. Even he seemed amazed by his mar- velous improvement. But would itlast? Would vot that terrible agony again pull him down? He felt it would, and said as much, but Oakes refused to listen. He declared that the worst was past, and that the improvement would not be cbecked by action; if en yining: the thought of working for the good of his child would still further benefit him. And in the end Gypsy Gale seemed to fall in with this line of thought. ‘*Haveit so, if you will, pardner,” he said, with a long breath, his dark eyes glowing with what seemed renewed life, ‘‘ But I can’t try the climbing, as I reckoned you might when dark came to cover you. We'll have to crawl along the trail I came.” ‘*Why not? You came that way, What's to hinder our going back?’ ‘*T was desperate burt. I was mad with thirst, besides. I wanted to get water, and then—well, it was like a wild beast creeping to his den!” moodily frowned the giant refugee. He took a cautious glance along the opposite brink, but saw nothing to denote the presence of the enemy. And then, as the shadows deepened down in the canyon, he deciared that they must make a move, ‘*Tt’s like crawling through death, pardner!” he warned, earnestly. ‘* A slip may tip you in- to the drink, and—but you know what that means, I reckon, And—we may run against those bloodhounds, trying the same trail! If we do—if anything happens to me—swear you’ll try to slip out, clear, without trying to take pay on my account!” ot until Oakes pledged himself would the Big Bracer move further. Then, saying that bis knowledge of the perilous trail demanded it, he took the lead, closely followed by the younger man, as Though the sun had not long set it was dark as midnight down by the roaring waters, and eyesight was of little avail to the two mer who slowly crept down theriver. In one sense this was a blessing, for they could not see their peril. If they bad, Oakes more than once felt, even their strong nerves must have failed them. It was es an awful experience, and more than once both were forced to pause to conquer the sickening dizziness born of those roaring, tumbling, swirling waters, which at times fairly lapped their limbs as they crept along the nar- row trail. But there was even worse in advance. One of thosesickening spells seized upon Oakes, and he paused, pressing his person tightly against the wall, shutting his eyes and straining every nerve to resist the mad impulse he felt to hurl himself into the water. And then—” A wild, piercing scream came to bis ears from infront! — What had happened? From whose throat— God above! had Gypsy Gale slipped into that merciless torrent? He tried to cry out to his comrade. He strove to utter hisname. But the sounds which came from his dread-parched throat were too faint even to reach his own ears, He tried to spring forward, but equally in vain. Hisstrength seemed gone. And as that sickening qualm once more assailed him, Hart Oakes sunk flat on his face, trembling, quiver- ing, wholly unmanned for the moment! How long he laid thus, he could never have told, but it was hardly a minute before, with a desperate effort of will, he conquered that awful sickness, and forced himself to move forward, shouting out the name of the giant refugee. the roaring of the swirling waters an- im, as he burried on, for the moment forgetful of his own peril, he met no living o . ‘ Sp ort. | , he failed to find the being for ‘ ? ° 4 > y + i F ~—_ + ‘ y ie i ry! 7 , ‘ = ~ * pe 1 al iy, 1%) ot. Vranas . i j ; 5 j ee Terls temas ~~ e7' 4. ent Gig . Z ce VASE BLS A fae eta SAG Wi So -e 74 e bh tn le 1 J pf tie t «# y’ — —s-o = me SS a eg ee ee _ ae i | aan . ata whom he sought. And then he knew the worst, if Gypsy Gale had fallen into that frightful tore rent! . ’ >) « ‘ an , r » ; ar beams A bh ae % ; * ! <a CHAPTER XX, STEALING A VOICE, As the awful truth forced itself upon his re- fj luctant mind, Hart Oakes again lay helpless ' stunned for the moment by the’knowledge that he was left aione in such a hideous trap, from — which there seemed no escape save through dar- a ing the almost certain destruction lying in that rushing torrent. Even yet he fought against the belief that his comrade was gone forever. Even now he tried to believe that Gale had simply distanced him during the interval of his helplessness, And acting on this wild chance, he lifted up his voice, shouting until the strain seemed to tear the skin off his throat, 24 As he listened, bis heart gave a suffocating ie? bound and his brain reeled hke that of a drunken | man, Surely that was a human voice? Surely Gale ‘was answering bim! He sprung forward at the glad thought, and i came near meeting bis death—his foot slipped, and he dropped over the edge of the narrow trail, only saved by his hands from falling into a deep crevice, his fingers closing with a grip of desperation as he recalled his former experience with those merciless waters, oa As he hung half in the water, another shout came to his ears, louder and clearer than be-» fore; but not from the narrow trail to which he clung so desperately—from high up on the rocks | above! i Py It was a marvel that the discovery did not \ “ yaralyze his muscles so as tothrow himahelp- ‘° load victim in the torrent’s grasp; but it pro-~ duced the contrary effect. Hedragged himself up on the ledge, his gaze stupidly fixed onthe _ further cliff, where a ruddy light was just making itself visible. And as he gazed, he made outa number of armed figures outlined against the sky, two of them bearing fresbly-kindled torches, which they waved and held at arm’s- length over the escarpment. “a ‘*“Mann—Dick Mann!” shouted Judd Varley, —_ at the top of his voice, as he tried in vain to pierce the utter obscurity below him, render ae all the more impenetrable by the glare of his a torch, ‘‘ Curse you, man! what’s happened?” © Hart Oakes caught his breath shskRly ashe listened, for, like a revelation of truth, he knew just what must have transpired. eae” Judd Varley was trying more stubbornly than ~ ever to achieve the death or capture of his in- tended victim. He had Jearned in some manner _ of this trail; perhaps from the very man whom u a he was now cursing so viciously, and had sent = him to steal upon the Big Bracer unawares,no ‘| doubt to assassinate him ashe slept. And while ~ so striving, Dick Mann had come into collision =} with the giant refugee, the darkness hindering | either from seeing the other, the roar of the river drowning the noise they made in ad- | vancing- And—he shivered as be sores pow abeerly belpless be had found himself in tha ) ‘* And him so badly wounded! perate devil clinging to him!” #> Judd Varley broke into another stormof cursy ing, een his voice sharply as he uttered the words: . | ae ‘Throw your light down, Ginger! Tllswear the voice came from right uncer where you ~ stand! Drop it straight, you idiot!” : es? Followed by a tiny train of sparks,a torch — came shvoting down almost directly infront of | where Hart Oakes crouched, but luckily it — struck in the water and was immediately ex- | tinguished. ae ‘Try it a bit further along,” cried Varley, — witnessing this failure. ‘‘ There must be a trail — there, for— Dick Mann, youhound!” ** Give a man time to— I’m nearly stran- — One’s brain works swiftly in a critical i i | gency, and almost without thought as to how he | could carry out the deception, yet save himself, = Hart Oakes shouted out that disjointed sentence — | in an assumed voice, trusting to the roaring waters to cover the difference. . oe ‘‘ What’s happened?’ eagerly cried Varley, — leaning perilously far over the cliff in hisanx- — iety to learn all, ‘*What made you yelp out like that?” * ‘“ Who wouldn’t when—I run chuck-up ag’inst — the devil himself!” ; ‘tac ‘“What do you mean? Curse you, Dick! can’t — you spit if out clean?” a> “ Ain’t I tryin’? called back Oakes in his~ stolen voice, clearing his brains with a desperate — effort of will. ‘Give a man a chance, after he’s — ud locking horns with the devil himself. ie . [te ae ¥ ¥ With a des- Pgs x ~ you - ‘‘ Was it the Big Bracer, Dick?” eagerly yelled — Varley, fairly dancing in his intense suspense, — “ Was it bim? Say it was, and—” pao. “Tt was him or his ghost, and I’m bettin’ aginst the spook!” the counterfeit Dick Mann called back, with growing confidence in his bold bluff, as he escaped detection at the start. . You've got him? Say, you’ve got him, ! . ‘ i, & of: “I bad him—and he had me, you bet!” with a ! SIs Eomicbooks:.com - 7) - pe i - tan Ags 4