Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 488 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

28 - The Thoroughbred Sport. Queen Esther suddenly grew grave as Varley uttered these words. She, too, had asked her- self these questions, immediately after learning how the meeting between Bark Matson and Hart ‘Oakes had terminated, but her solution was a little more comforting than the one which Var- ley evidently reached. ‘‘T don’t think we have so very much to fear -on that point, honey. Bark isn’t quite an ass in ‘all. things, though he has shown a mighty long pair.of ears in one respect, as you know well enough. We warned him particularly on that ‘point, and I’m inclined to believe he followed our instructions as well as his limited wits would permit.” ‘““Tf you knew him to be such a fool, why did “you run him out as a champion?” harshly mut- ‘tered the tall gambler. *¢ Because J didn’t know of any one who could fill the bill better than he,” was the prompt re- tort. ‘‘He had a lovely pair of eyes that gave him ample excuse for salivating the sport. I knew he would face Sheol itself at my slightest _bidding—poor fool!” Once again her light, mocking laugh rung out clearly, and sent bitter shame and agony to the brain and heart of the miserable wretch whom she was mocking, after he had so nearly lost his life while trying to do her bidding! For, even as Judd Varley left the chamber in which Bark Matson lay in a half-stupor, half- slumber, the blrodshot eyes faintly opened. And then the sound of the woman whom he so fiercely, madly, loved, coming to his ears through the thin partition which alone separated the two rooms, drove the mists from his hotly- throbbing brain, Not a word escaped his painfully-strained ears. Not a laugh, not a jeer, not a slighting mone escaped him, after that first terrible shock, He even strove to rise from his bed, to gaina weapon with which to wipe out his shameful humiliation. But his powers were not quite equal to that, And though he longed to shout am ae thirst for vengeance, he choked it back until— ‘* Wait—wait until—until I can look into her false eyes!” he grated between his clinched v3 »th, then fairly held his breath to catch every- thing. ‘* | wish I could be as sure as you try to make out,” gloomily muttered Varley, biting the ends of his mustache as he stared at the uncarpeted “ib at his feet as he sat on the side of the bet, ‘‘Some of the boys ought to be able to solve your doubts,” ‘I’ve heard what they can tell, They agree ‘that nothing about us or Gypsy Gale came to the surface. But what passed below it? Who can aay what that devilish cool rascal was think- ing o ‘* What matter? As cee 9 as he don’t act, a fig for his thinking! If that clumsy fool made a boteh of it—you don’t reckon there’s any chance of bis hearing us, Varley?” with sudden fear in her lowered tones, Ilimself startled, Judd Varley cautiously passed out to the other chamber, opening the door and speaking softly to the occupant. No reply. Bark Matson lay just as he had seen him a few minutes earlier, heavily breathing, seemingly still unconscious. Varley entered and shook him by the arm, at first lightly, then with considerable force. But only a feeble moan answered his last effort, and fully satisfied that there was no danger to be feared through their unguarded conversation, he returned to report as much to his confederate. ‘Then that’s § all go laughed Queen Esther. “Just think! If he only knew how beautifully we played him forasucker! If he only knew that he was asking your wife, Judd Varley, tomarry bim. And right before your very face, too.” ‘The smpodert cur was never nearer his death than he was that moment, little girl,” with afrown mingling with kis laugh. ‘* Only that I needed his services, ’d have perforated him right there.” ‘Let him went, honey,” with another laugh, that seemed to tear the heart of the man she ridiculed to ribbonsas he listened. ‘* He’s slipped up on it, and of course [ve got a fair excuse for shaking him, when the boodle is fairly ours, Until then—well, 1 reckon we can make him pay for his keep.” ‘*T don’t know but what we might as well shake him right now, little woman,” slowly ut- tered Varley in response, ‘‘Even if he ever gets on his feet again, he’ll never have the nerve to tackle Oakes. And then—DTve got another string to my bow, remember!” ** You don’t mean—” . ** Just that,” with a hard, mocking laugh. “* Anybody can set a fool like Matson ‘at the throat of a man whom he already hates enough to murder, but it takes an artist to get work out _. of one who—you know that dirty buck I was talking with up near pl eng “i saw him. You think you can contrive *T don’t think; [ simply know it. You _ should have seen how I soft-soaped the insect-y _ warmint,” laughing softly at the memory. | Ute. ** Whisky John, or John Whisky, as he called himself, and I must admit that he smelled true to his name, too, But that don’t count, ‘* He was one of the Big Bracer’s best backers, Injun though he is. I never saw aman worse cut up over anything than John Whisky, and for a little bit I had hard work to keep his claws from my throat. If it hadn’t been for my bringing forward my repentance—my championing you as the daughter of his old friend—I really believe I’d have had to rub him out! Asitis—” ‘* Yowre going to set him after this rascally sport?” ‘‘T am, fora fact, And this very night, if we can find out where the slippery cuss makes his nest. Jobn is on the watch even now.” ‘Well, one thing is sure: he can’t prove him- self a bigger fool than my adorable-never-to-be- though-he-thinks-he-will bridegroom!” the wo- man laughed derisively, as she left the chamber with Varley. And Bark Matson? He lay on his couch, bitterly vowing ven- geance on them both, CHAPTER XXXY. HOW JOHN WHISKY EARNED: HIS WAGES, But the two arch plotters were fated to be held in suspense yet a little longer, and before midnight Judd Varley was waited upon by the half-drunkem Ute, ‘‘John Whisky,” who de- clared that: the Thoroughbred Sport was no- where to be found inside Silver Lode. ‘*1f he’s hiding, it bodes us no good, be sure of that!” the tall gambler muttered with an ugly, uneasy scowl as he parted with Queen Esther at her door, after another: consultation. The false heiress shivered slightly, though the air was warm enough, one would have thought. Though Judd Varley had kept pretty close to the hotel since his return with ‘‘ Miss Tempest ” from their trip of inspection, his henchmen had contrived to convey to him a pretty accurate idea of how matters were progressing in town. And almost without exception they declared that Hart Oakes, by his sbarp contest with Bark Matson, had won fully half of Silver Lode, so far as sympathy went. ‘‘ Let him lick another blind man, an’ he kin tote all Silver Lode in his britches: pocket!” de- clared Grizzly, in utter disgust. ‘‘Durn an’ conbie outs sech’a ornary camp—that’s me, oney!” Why, then, was the sport keeping so shady? Why, unless he suspected them of setting Bark Matson at his throat? And if this was the case, would he give over the game so readily? Wouldn’t he strike back, at one or both of them? Judd Varley wrestled with such thoughts as these, pretty well all that night, and hence it is not so strange that his right hand instantly sought a weapon as, after an early breakfast the next morning, he came face to face with ney Oakes himself, just outside the hotel oor. ‘* Flag o’ truce, you kuow, pardner,” softly ut- tered the thoroughbred, as he smilingly met that startled glance, ‘“ bm giving you time to make up your minds, Tl call on you and— Miss Tempest—at your own hour to-morrow morning. Until then—be good to yourself, Varley!” ° Without waiting for a reply, Oakes passed the tall gambler by, entering the hotel and making arrangements for board and lodging. Judd Varley, after a brief hesitation, kept on his course, seeing that; horses were prepared for another trip through the minesin company with Miss Tempest. But when he returned to the office, finding the thoroughbred gone, he con- trived to glean a bit of information which set his gray eyes aflame with evil delight. ** We've got him foul, unless he lays out again to-night, Queenie!” he whispered in her ear as Miss Tempest met him, ready for the jaunt. As before, they spent the greater portion of the day out of doors, and as before Judd Varley met and conversed very earnestly with John Whisky, who reached the town several hours before the equestrians, Jt seemed a harvest day for the liquor-loving His blind, unreasoning devotion to Gypsy Gale had long been known throughout Silver Lode, and many were the surmises and even wagers made as to his real intentions, a few holding that he would try to ‘ get even” with those who had been most forward in hunting the Big Bracer to death, while the large majority declared that, given plenty of bis beloved fire- water, John would never lft a finger against the worst among them. And so, hoping to learn definitely how the grim red-skin really felt, whisky was free as water to him that day. And as his tongue grew looser, the doubts were quickly settled, There would be no ‘tracket” as far as John Whisky was concerned, unless justice was denied the fair daughter of his old friend. ‘‘Den—heap dam row, you bet!” with a drunken scowl. And John Whisky, reeling, swaying, high- stepping, his ragged blanket trailing far be- hind his heels, met Judd Varley and Miss Tem- pest just as they entered Silver Lode, To the 5 i . - , - — \ a ‘y- ae Ste! SS EOE he. i : - ,~«? rc +n ‘Sy » = 2 45 _- $65 41 > Weel F ee | e-<Lew j As » ae — few who saw them, he seemed bowing his drunken allegiance to Big Bracer’s heiress, In reality he was saying; ‘‘When dark come, John ready. John—you —John’s hoss; dat big plenty ‘scoop’ ’im in, too dam quick!” There was an evil glow of pleasure in the gray eyes of the tall gambler as he listened, yet the tidings received appeared to have a bad effect upon him, beginning to show itself almost as soon as he reached the hotel. He had a racking headache, The hot sun must bave brought it on. He would try aud sleep it off, for there was work akead. ‘Unless Matson begins to pick up pretty soon, we'll really have to find another man to fill his place. Miss Tempest is very anxious to get down to solid business. Says she can’t sleep until everything is straightened out, and the last claim against the estate paid off’ This in the hotel bar, and with a parting ““night-cap” Varley retired to his chan.ber, not even dallying for a call on poor Matson. To all appearance he had retired for good, but that was only in seeming. Assoon as he dared, he stole over to the chamber occupied by his wife, and together they kept watch until they both heard and saw Hart Oakes retire to his room, in the rear of the second story. Sitting in the dark, whispering dhe they waited nearly another hour. Then Queen Esther stole on silent tip-toe to the door through which the thoroughbred had vanished, holding her breath as she bent an ear to the key-hole. Barely perceptible to even her sharp senses, but firm, regular, and unbroken by other sounds, came the sound of breathing. Beyond a doubt their intended victim was already lost in slum- er. ‘¢ Make sure work of it this time, noneyT the woman muttered as she returned with her re- port. ‘* He’s safer dead than living and on our side!” “ John Whisky thinks tbat way, little wo- man,” laughed Varley, as his lips answered hers in another fashion. ‘‘ Prepare to shed your tears, for you'll never look on Hart Oakes again!” Silently, as thougb his feet were shod with velvet, Judd Varley stole down the stairs and out through the narrow door leading to the flight of stairs, only pausing to assure himself that no pares was near enough to recognize, even if they should catch a glimpse of his figure, And five minutes later he was hurriedly whis- ering to John Whisky, pointing up at a win- Se in the rear side of the hotel. ‘‘ He’s in there, sleeping soundly, You know what to do?’ The Ute nodded quickly. ‘‘ John climb in. Mek him more sleepy, if kin, If kick up row, eh?” In one hand he held a dirty bottle of liquid, In the other he flashed out a long scalping- knife, his little eyes seeming to flash fire as they glittered before the face of the tall gambler. ‘‘ Alive if you can—dead if you must!” he grated, viciously, adding in calmer tones: ‘* The child of your old friend did not forget, She fixed the window all right, and—see!” He crept close to the rear of the building, run- ning his hand over the rough boarding until it found what he sought: a small but strong cord, stretched up to the window of the chamber oc- cupied by Hart Oakes, ‘¢ Tie your lariat to this, then pull on one side, It will haul the rope up over a hook stout enough to bear up a mule—so /” John Whisky seemed to accept everything as perfectly correct, and with knife clinched be- tween his teeth, he silently drew himself up the doubled rope, breathlessly watched by Judd Varley. ‘Tf he only makes the riffle!” the tall gambler breathed barely loud enough for his own ears to catch, as he crouched down under cover of some rocks and weeds afew yards away. ‘If not— if the cursed sport kicks up a row—kill or be killed, John!” with vicious emphasis as he cocked his revolver. ‘‘I’d hate to down you myself, but you mustv’t talk! We can’t afford that, you know!” ; Even then Judd Varley could not hide his treacherous nature. Even while be felt his tool was doing his work as best he knew how, there was Seats in his busv brain. Even if he had to shoot the Indian, his lips must never be given a chance to explain his failure to others! He saw John Whisky open the window, se- cure it thus, then steal silently into the room. In almost suffocating suspense he waited and watched, growing relieved as minute after min - ute passed without an alarm or even the muffled sounds which would denote a struggle. Surely the boasted drug of the red-skin was doing its work! Surely John—” A dusky figure tbrust its head out of the win- dow and madea quick gesture which sent the hot blood thrilling through the veins of the tall gambler. ‘‘He’s caught the turn. first clatter!” he laughed softly, his eyes fairly ablaze with dia- bolical joy and triumph. ‘‘ Good-by, Mr. Thor- oughbred! A quick and safe passage across the divide!” ss ; Another gesture hurried his movements. Yo eomicbooks.c ’ \ ~ +.# Sh ok A > ef A age > 24 = a a