Beadle's Dime Library No. 490: 'The Lone Hand in Texas' — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

~~ *' * SaaS ~ f Ime a x The Lone Hand in T +P ‘ ‘ . ” ts. A Oak ' J ‘‘Sho! you don’t say so; that galoot over thar in the blanket-coat? Why, he ain’t much bigger than I am, but he’sa hummer from Hummer- ville!” Then a dive at the Lone Hand. ** Say, stranger, how ar’ ye? Pm Bill Smith, I am, from up Pedro Crick, got asnice a ranch up thar as thar isin the State! You have jest Bot fur to come and stay a while with me, you eb ! —haw, haw! W’ot’ll you drink?” The Lone Hand accepted the hospitality of three men before he awoke to the fact that there | was a great probability that the three would | soon be twenty or thirty, and then he made a hasty retreat. He said he was going down the street to Doc Mortimer’s place, the Big Texas Sandbank, but this was only a ruse to throw his admirers off the track for after passing through the main | entrance of the saloon, he went round to the side door, and up to his room, where he re- mained until the Bostonian came in about e.:even o’clock. “The marshal has been hunting for you all over town,” Webster said, as he entered, * Indeed, and what does he want?” I heerd how you warmed that English cuss | thar will be twenty or thirty,” the marshal re- marked. ‘* How is that?” the Lone Hand asked. ‘* Wal, | commenced to pick out my men ’bout _ ten o’clock, and warned them not to say a word to anybody, ’ecos I didn’t want the hull town thar; but [ reckon, from what I see’d, that every galoot of them is going to ring a friend in, and some of ’em, mebbe, will bring two. ‘*'You see, when you come to strike a picnic of this kind, it is migbty hard for the boys to keep from giving it away.” ‘That is natural.” ; ” Yes, *tain’t often they get a chance for un, ‘*T should not think there would be much fun in torturing this poor devil!” Webster exclaim- ed, unable to resist speaking. ‘* That's because you ar’ a stranger hyer and ain’t posted ’bout galoots like this half-breed,” the marshal replied, with a pitying smile at the ignorance of the young man, ‘* Lord bless yer! if he and his gang got you up in the mountains, they would put you through a course of sprouts which would make your hair turn gray. . ‘* They are worse than any red imps that you “To post you regarding the lynch business | ever heerd tell on! to-night.” ae Ab, yes,” ‘* When they carry a man off and hold him for ransom, as they call it, if his friends don’t ‘“*T told him that you were probably up-stairs, | pony up the money mighty quick, they jest and that if I didn’t conie down, to come up, sc | slice of ie 0 ‘and sevd it in | he will be along pretty soon.” And then Webster helped himself to a chair and blurted out, abruptly: one of his fingers, or an ear, mebbe, to whar he used ter live, as a perlite intimation that they ar’ in a hurry, and if the man’s friends don’t want to get the “Do you know, I think this lynch business ' fellow back in pieces, they had better put up that they intend to carry out to-night is one of the most cowardly pieces of work that I ever heard of! The idea of lugging out that unfor- tunate balf-breed, putting a rope around his the cash.” ‘* It is horrible!” the Bostonian exclaimed. ‘** Horrible! I bet yer! And when you git one of these red-handed murderers in yer power neck, and stringing him upto the limk of a! and chin about being merciful to him, wby, you tree, for the purpose of choking a confession out of him! ‘‘ Why, it is just the same idea as the old-time torture when they put a man on the rack or turned the thumb-screws on him.” “Yes, you are right; it is just about the same idea.” ‘“Of course, in this case, I do not suppose there is much doubt that the man does belong to this outlaw band and could reveal some of their secrets if he chose so to do,” Webster observed, thoughtfully. ‘* Very little doubt; in fact, none at all to my thinking.” “ But, supposing there was a doubt—suppose the fellow was an innocent man, unjustly ac- cused?” ‘‘The chances are great that they would go ahead at the same gait.” “That is what I supposed, and it seems to me that the whole proceeding is barbarous in the extreme!” the Bostonian declared, indig- nantly. “Tt certainly is; but you must take into con- sideration that this is a rough country down here—on the borders of civilization, and the means and processes that obtain in old and well regulated communities, would not be effectual here in restraining the wild and reckless men who set the law at defiance. ** Desperate diseases require desperate reme- dies, you know.” ‘Very true. but I cannot say that I admire living in such a community.” ‘* A man in this world who follows fortune will often traverse a rough and rude path,” the Love Hand observed, with the air of a philoso- her, *‘and so long as he attains the end he seeks he ought not to murmur at the discomforts of the way.” . ‘‘T suppose you are right, but if I had an idea of what the country was like, I don’t thin I would have come down bere, 1 should prefer less money and more civilization.” At this point there was a knock at the door, ‘**T guess that is the marshal.” ** Come in,” said the Lone Hand. Webster’s thought was correct, It wax the marshal, “T came to post youin regard to the leetle surprise-party to-night,” he said, with a good- natured grin. ‘** Ah, yes,” the Lone Hand observed, “We will meet at twelve o’clock, in a corral, just this side of the calaboose. It is off the street, ‘tween the calaboose and the furst house this side of it.” ‘¢T think I notice’ the corral to-day.” “Oh, you can’t miss it!” the marshal asserted. ‘A man could almost find it with his eyes shat. It is going to be a good night for the fun. The moon is coming up strong—pretty near full, too. sc, round ’bout midnight, there will be plenty of light.” “That is.gcod.” **Oh, yes, we want to be able to see what we are about, you know. ‘You wili have to have our face kivered,” and the marshal drew from s pocket some masks, radely fashioned out of black cloth. He selected two out of the number and passed them to the Lone Hand, who gave one to the Bostonian. “Tt reckoned to only have "bout ten or a dozen men in this scrape, but I am afeard Ru ag line-talloss | Aa 997 <4 | | | might jest as well say that a man ought to show mercy to a rattlesnake coiled ready for to strike him! ‘*Wal, Vll see you later. marshal departed. *“*T have heard these tales, but I can hardly bring myself to believe they can be true,” Web- ster remarked, after the door closed behind Jackman’s burly form. ‘*He bas not exaggerated in the least,” the Lone Hand replied. *‘ A more merciless set of bloodthirsty scoundrels than these brigands of the Rio Grande the world never saw!” ‘* Tt is hardly a wonder, then, that when they capture one of the members of such a gang they fee] inclined to sock it to him, as a Texan would say.” ’ ‘“They would be more than human if they didn’t,” the other observed. ‘* By the way, it is a fortunate thing for us that there is going to be more than ten or a dozen in the party, for then our absence will not be noticed.” ‘ ‘That is true.” ‘Yes, among twenty or thirty men all masked, the absence of a couple will not be apt to cause remark,” ‘* By the way, [ bought an extra pair of re- volvers to-dae for I thought they would provo useful for you to-night.” \ ** They will, undoubtedly.” The Lone Hand produced the weapons, which were fine ones, navy size, charged them care- fully, and gave the pair to the Bostonians. Then he examined his own weapons, saw that ead were properly loaded and in good working order, A little after eleven the Lone Hand suggested that it would be as well for them to be on the move, and they departed from the hotel by the pe Pig so as not to excitie observation and re- mark, So-long!” and the CHAPTER XXV. TIME, MIDNIGHT. AFTER leaving the hotel, the pair avoided the main street, making a detour into the open country, getting so far away from the houses that they would not be likely to be seen by any one. As the marshal had said, the moon was com- ing up full and strong, and so there was plenty of light to enable the pair to see where they were oing. ‘ E Heals to the precautions which they had adopted in forsaking the street, they did not en- counter a soul on their way. When they arrived in the rear of the cala- boose, they recognized the building without trouble, as if was so much larger than any of’ the houses in the immediate neighborhood. ‘‘ That long, low, dark line just this side of the calaboose is the corra] evidently,” said the coe Hand, calling his companion’s attention to i ‘ ' ‘Yes, I suppose so,” ; \ ‘** Not that it matters much to us whether it is or not,” the other remarked, ‘* for we will not have any business there to-night.” ‘* That is true.” ‘* Now we will begin to draw in toward the road, and we must Keep our eyes about us, for the outlaws may already be in ambush, and if they discovered our presence in the neighbor- exas. ‘ a e . . Y F “Undoubtedly.” “ Still, I hardly think that there is much dan- ger of their being on the ground thus early. “The lynchers are summoned to meet at twelve, and it will probably be fully half am hour after midnight before they will be ready to advance on the calaboose; then there will he a delay tiuere, so it will be safe to calculate that it. will be near one before they get the half-breed to the tree where they intend to swing bim up. ‘* Your calculation is correct to my thinking.” ‘Yes; and as these outlaws, I am satisfied, are just as well posted in regard to these partic- ulars as we, the probabilities are that they will not reach their ambush until after twelve, so we: will have ample time to get to our hiding-place without danger of detection.” “Yes; but do you really think that they do know these particulars?” Webster asked, ‘*Are you not giving them credit for being: smarter than they are?” ‘*Ob, no, circumstances have been such that I have been able to make a study of these outlaw bands during the last year, and one of the prin- cipal things with them is to have an excellent spy system. ‘*Without their spies in the different towns. and villages near their haunts they would not know where to strike their blows, and would also be in danger of being surprised by the ran- gers, who are generally ordered to disperse any band whose exploits become notorious, ‘*T feel pretty certain that I have spotted two. of the Red Glove Raiders’ spies in this very town. of Pedroville.” ‘*I think I can guess the man at whom your suspicion is directed, although the idea seems al- most too improbable for belief. K dd ‘““This Jacob Plunkett, the landlord of the hotel and your employer, the old Jew.” ‘* Tt does not seem possible!” ‘‘T have seen enough of the way the outlaws work their games to know that it is both possi- ble and probable. ‘* Both men get well paid for any services they may render, and they also act as ‘ fences’ for disposing of stolen property; any goods which cannot be easily identified this old Jew would. get rid of. Of course, on such stuff his profit would be great, for be gets the articles fora tenth of their falue. ‘** You see, both of the men are careful not to run any risk. ‘* Why, to give you an idea of the way one of these first-class bands do business, it is my belief that fellow who provoked me into a fight to-day — was ove of the outlaws.” ‘* Do you think it possible?” cried the Boston- ian astonished at the stateinent. ‘** Indeed I do!” the Lone Hand answered, firm-- <a ly. ‘‘The idea occurred tome the moment I saw that the man intended to pick a quarrel with me. | ‘**Tf he had heen under the influence of liquor- it would have been a different matter, for drunk- en men will quarrel with a stranger withou rea- vi son, but the fellow was sober enough, and | felt — certain he bad been set on toattack me, and that — was the reason I accommodated him so quickly.” _ “ By Jove!” exclaimed Webster, amazed, ‘do your conclusions by instinct, for, I confess, cannot reason them cut the Way you do.” ‘Not instinct. but lon po in reading — men,” the Lone Hand replied. s ‘For a good many years now I have studied men as a hunter studies the habits and natures of the game he tracks, oe ‘* By the bruised blade of grass, the overturned you know that it seems to me that you jump to, ae pebble, trifles, that to the eyesof theman un- skilled in woodcraft would seem as naught, he _ learns what game has passed that way and how ~ near he 1s to it. Py: ‘** So it is with me; I havestudied outlaws, like - these Red Glove Raiders, until lam able from slight clews to penetrate their secrets and divine their plans,’ a By this time the pair were in the rear of the cabin where they designed to take refuge. “Now, we must use all possible caution for fear that some of the outlaws may be in the neighborhood,” the Lone Hand said ina whis~ r, ‘S ag We must crouch low and glide like a connie: of ghosts with noiseless steps until we reach the cabin.” ax ‘“T will do the best I can, although I doubt if I can do the Indian business as well as you,” the _ Bostonian remarked. ar! ‘*T reckon we are safe from cbservation, but we must be cautious. In a pame of tiis never throw a chance away. eee And then, with noiseless steps, the two stole toward the cabin. Lb BRE RE When they reached the shelter of the sbru bery which clustered around the back of the house, they came to a halt and the Lone Hanc listened intently. ~y ; “2 4h Naught but the common noises of the nig broke the silence. f ‘“We have succeeded, I think,” he |: > “There does not seem to be a soul in the neigh borhood.” 2 He tried the cabin door; there was no lock ay a single letch upon it, for the old hun hood, it would upset our plans.” nothing within that he feared to. lose. \‘* ne. 19: co i s. ah el