Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 488 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

=) at a _—> — hoarse laugh that startled himself, it was in such perfect keeping with his assumed char- acter. ‘* We butted heads afore I ever sus- pected I hadn’t got the trail all to my lonesome self! An’—well, I hed to let him hev my blade, boss! It was that, or bear him company down _ the drink!” There was a brief silence, during which Judd Varley could be seen making vicious gestures, clearly disappointed that the tidings was not _ still more favorable. Hart Oakes made the most of his respite, ising up and feeling of the canyon wall as he crept cautiously along it, knowing that the roar of the waters would blind his change of position when the time came for him to use bis stolen voice once more. He shivered sharply as his foot struck against a goodly-sized stone lying on | the ledge, for it came perilously near casting him headlong into the river. Yet that accident / was to prove a means of salvation for him ere many moments. * All right, Mann,” called out Varley, sbarp- ly, isha oy his torch over the brink once more. ‘Tf you’re dead sure it was the Big Bracer, you might as well come up again. We'll search for his carcass down-river, when we’ve got more time tospare. You, Ginger!” z ** All hyar, boss!” came a prompt response | from above the sport. | _ ** Drop a rope over, with a light at the end, so | Dick can see to find it. Work lively, now!” . There was no time to lose, and Hart Oakes fully realized as much. If he retained his posi- tion, the light would surely reveal him to those | interested eyes on the other brink. [f he stole away, it would arouse suspicions of a dangerous | sort, and search would surely be made for him without delay. os He stooped and picked up that heavy frag- | ment of rock in his hands, heaving it bigh above his head, crying out sharply: _ Hurry up, curse you, Ginger! This trail is so narrow and slippery that— Help! for the love , o— f i ¥ i. ~ ie ‘t His voice rose to a maniacal screech, and then _ he cast the heavy stone up as high as possible, a ' loud splash following, distinct enough to reach ears above, despite the roar of the river. | And he gave one more wild yell, cutting it short, | as if smothered by the torrent. |. As rapidly as possible he crept along the ledge down river, while Judd Varley and his satellites shouted and yelled and danced in wild excite- - ment on the cliff, completely deceived by that | realistic fraud. | _* * Split your throats, ye devils!" grimly mut- tered the fugitive as he increased the distance between himself and those dancing torches as | _ rapidly as he dared in the intensegloom. “Give | me alittle time, and Pl—” - ‘* Lower some one with your rope, Ginger!” | shouted Varley, just then. ‘Let him keep it _ tied about him, and you keep pace with him above. If there’s the ghost of a chance for poor Dick, he’s got to have it.” Hart Oakes paused barely long enough to fully comprehend this new peril, then pressed on in hopes that the narrow trail would increase in a width, or speedily begin to make its way up- - ward to the level ground. But he had not taken @ dozen paces when he realized that he must | abandon this hope, almost as soon as conceived. __ Judd Varley was hurrying along the opposite | side of the river, giving his orders as he came: | ** Get your ropes ready. lads! Dick may catch - onarock, and we'll give him the benefit of that | chance, anyway! Sling yonr torches so they won't burn the rope too quick, and we'll let * mehts down to see a bit of the bottom--for +f : “For little I'd let light through you, you _ devil!” grated Oakes as he crept along, the trail | seeming to grow narrower and more slippery _ witb every yard he covered. * And 1 will, if it _ tomes to discovery!”. _. The situation was growing doubly critical. _ Already he could tell that Ginger Gore was pre- - * - paring to send down a man as directed, bearing alight withhim. Varley, not a hundred yards _ further down the river, was lowering a glowing _ torch at the end of a rope, shouting loudly in _ hopes of getting an answer from his hench- - Asa last hope—for he saw that the torches _ below were plainly illumining both sides of the -canyon—O felt about for some means of = Saalin the wall itself, high enough at least to _ eover him from the search which he knew would _ be thoroughly made by the enemy. He found a narrow crack in the wall, level . an, his breast and extending higber up than he ' oe o uld reach. It seemed a chance, and gathering - all his strength and nerve, he began crawling cod _ upward. ___. Failure meant death, but it seemed his solitary _ chance, oF os CHAPTER XXI. = THE SPORT FINDS SATAN’S LADDER. _ FEELING this, Hart Oakes made the best of a bad situation. There was no time to stop to ulate the chances for or against his findin life above or death below. The men on bct _ sides of the river were briskly at work, and _ with almost any moment some keen eye might . -¥ 44 4 | SIO ie —6 C8 Jr, et —, —=4 CT ‘aie es Tr eee ap Me i a, Jee: nan ‘gel «cil. 5: re) | an a 4 ‘Vee’ & ev ve a7 Ae ce ee * —ae et b The Thor ughbred Sport. detect his creeping form and greet it with a leaden interrogation. Guided by the sense of touch alone, the sport crept up the narrow crevice as rapidly as he dared, knowing that a single false grip, an un- certain foothold, might send him down to meet his death in that merciless torrent where— He shivered sharply as he thought of poor Gypsy Gale! ow true had been his grim prediction that he would never see another sun rise, that he would never leave that horrible trap alive! ‘**T’ll do my prettiest to even it all up for you, pardner!” Oakes muttered tkrough bis grating teeth as he cast a vengeful glance down and across the river, where he could still distinguish Judd Varley doing all that lay in his power to afford his lost henchman a chance for life. ‘*And may be itll not hold off so mighty long— may be this very blessed night!” It was a conclusion drawn forth by something very different from the sight of Judd Varle wgrking his forlorn hope. His head struc sity against an overhanging rock which barred his further ascent! During the last few feet of progress, the crack or crevice had widened until Oakes was forced to select one side of it for scaling, though he could span its width with outstretched arms. And trying to believe that the rock which bar- red his way only overhung that side, he quickly crossed to the other, only to find that further climbing was entirely out of the question, at least in that gloom. The opening in the rock wall had abruptly ended in a slightly arched roof, as it might be termed, and without the aid of light, either natural or artificial, any attempt to climb past this would simply be suicidal. With a certain grim despair Hart Oakes turned his head to count up the chances for and against him. Below were Judd Varley and half a dozen men, some managing the suspended torches, others shouting loudly the name of their lost comrade and looking sharply for some signs of his person, living or dead. Only a few yards above bis perch, the sport knew Ginger Gore was lowering one of his fel- lows down to the narrow trail at the foot of the canyon wall, armed with a torch by which he would be enabled to not only guide his own steps, but discover aught suspicious which that brief eae or the passage of the fugitives might have left behind. ** Tell be a mighty close call if he comes down this way!” frowned Oakes, with a glance direct- ly beneath bimself. . The waters seemed terribly close, and a searcher could hardly be expected to pass by without discovering that dark figure clinging to the wall, hardly thrice its length above the slippery trail. ‘Tho arabes sending a good Christian, Gin- ger!” em y muttered the thoroughbred as he settled back as far as practicable in the hole, bracing himself with feet and shoulders while be drew a revolver from its scabbard, silently turning the loaded cylinder around to make sure the dampness had not clogged its working rts. ‘‘ For if his eyes are too mighty sharp, e’s going to cash in too awful quick!” Now that he had given over all effort to climb further, Oakes was not long in making a fairly welcome discovery. The hole in which he found himself, might easily have been one worse for concealment, after all, as the growing light to his right hand revealed. That left his body wholly in the shadow, and he could only catch a limpse of the trail below by craning his neck orward. ‘*Who knows? What’s to make the critter look ee Nothing but pure accident, thanks to his having so adroitly stolen the voice of Dick Mann, and supplemented it by that fictitious fall from the treacherous trail, Nothing, unless Judd Varley and his division on the further side should make the discovery of the motionless figure in the crevice by the ruddy glare of their torches: for they had apparently abandoned all hope of finding their fellow below, and were slowly making their way up the river toward the spot where the man selected by Ginger Gore was now steadying himself on the damp and slippery ledge just above the level of the roar- ing. wee art Oakes drew as far back as possible, bow- ing his head to hide his pale face, keeping his weapons where no reflected ray could add _ to the chances of discovery. Yet, as Judd Varley passed along with his gang swinging their glow- ing lights, it seemed impossible for them to miss spying that living figure, motionless though it was, No doubt Hart Oakes magnified the chances, for that was perfectly natural. His covert was really a better one than he dared hope, and as there was naught to lead the enemy to suspect such hiding, it is notso very remarkable that neither Varley nor his men espied him. ** Make sure neither Dick nor that murdering rascal are anywhere on the trail!” shouted Var- ley to the fellow who, with torch in band and rope fastened beneath hisarm-pits, was cautious- ly feeling his way along theriver’s brink. ‘‘ It’s * - '& ° 7 4 * . —_P ba" g me Fe < ¥-- : ad : ¥ eal > i > he = we + p™ \ \ * - = < ><" 2 te t or Be “NN «* r — . = SS the trail?” t(j (= =$:° }=(=£]°0 0 0 eae ae a ee a a a a a ee aes ao what Dick should have done, or else held back until day came!” ‘*T reckon he’s paid fer bein’ so mighty con- fident, boss!” ‘*He’s cashed in, I reckon! He said he stuck the Big Bracer; look for red ink, will you?” After a few minutes’ silence, the searcher gave a loud shout. ‘* Thar’s blood on this rock, but—ef it’s old or ‘‘ Odds is the difference, anyway! Slide on up river, and we'll make sure the red-handed rascal really crawled out of his den!” If the searcher felt any serious objections to filling such a position, he made no audible pro- test. And then the lights slowly faded away until Oakes could see them no longer. ‘“Now what? Shall I make another try for That was quickly decided, and in the negative, Not only was it higbly probable that Judd Varley and his gang would return down river as soon as satisfied that the Big Bracer had escaped from his den, but even his strong nerves were not equal to the task, after what had happened to his companion of so short a time ago. “Tf I can’t crawl up the wall, I'll lay here un- til daylight comes, that’s what!” the sport dog- gedly decided. A very few minutes satisfied him that he could creep no further up the canyon wall at that point, and he dared not risk finding a more fav- orable opening, at least until after the enemy should take their final departure. And settling into as comfortable a position as was possible under the circumstances, he bided his time. It was just as well that he did so, Within half an hour, at the outside, the searchers re- turned down the river, having found the den vacant, and no trail leading up beyond i t. “It's hyar or byarabouts that Dick ketched him, boss!” shouted up the searcher, as he paus- ed almost directly underneath the hole in which Hart Oakes was crouching, breathless, hand on revolver, ready to sell his life at as high a price as don’t reckon they’s any need 0’ tryin’ any furder down.” sible in case he should be discovered, ‘1 ‘‘ Run it out the end, now you've started. [ll make it all right to you. It’s just possible Dick or Gypsy may have struck a rock!” With his strained hearing the sport could hear the fellow growling sulkily at this command, but he made no open opposition, and the lights slow- ly moved down the stream, soon fading from view of the fugitive. “‘That lets me out, so far as they’re concerned, but—if I had about three ton of grub here 4o keep me from thinking—ugh!” Those were terribly long and weary hours. He dared not sleep, lest he oP from his perch to meet death in those horribly roaring waters. He could not make up bis mind to again risk crawling along that slippery trail through the intense darkness. All be could do was to wait for the coming of dawn, and fight back the grim phantoms of memory with what nerve he could summon to his assistance, With the first rays of a new day, Oakes eager- ly scanned the opposite wall, though he knew it was hardly likely Varley would place a guard, after having such seemingly positive proofs of his victim’s death. And as he discovered naught suspicious, the sport crept down to the damp ledge, creeping along it until bis nerves; grew steady and firm as usual, then making greater haste, urged on by his hungrily gnawing stomach, for he had eaten nothing for full forty hours. *¢ And with all the rough-and-tumble exercise (’'ve taken, that’s about equal to a solid month!” he grumbled, keeping on the watch for a point where he might scale the canyon wall without running too great a risk of breaking his neck by a slip and a tumble down again. Tis he found before the sun began to shine into > the deep channel through the rocks, and as he reached the level above, be drew his first full, free breath in bours, His first thought was to make sure no ene- mies were in sight. His second turned to food and eating. ‘* Anything, from snake to buzzard! And if Irun on a human critter as my first show of flesh—well, I’a hate to swear I wouldn’t turn cannibal, just for once!” Fortunately he was spared this necessity. Within the hour he was greedily tearing away at the barely warm hind leg of a jack rabbit, while the remainder of the carcass was cooking — over a little fire of dry sticks. And when he finally gave a mighty yawn of satiety, a famish- ing wolf would have growled in disgust over that closely picked heap of bones! “* Now if tconid lie down and sleep for about a solid week, I reckon I'd feel something more like a white man,” he grumbled, as he reluctant- ly rose to his feet, loosening bis belt and looking around to learn, if possible, the correct course to follow. ‘But there’s that young lady! And I’m all she’s got to depend on—worse luck!” Gypsy Gale had given the sport minute direc tions how to regain the regular stage route, after escaping from the canyon, but now that he came to follow those directions, Hart Oakes found it none so easy, The country was perfect EOMIG nee el >» yaa