Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 506 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

£45 3. he ae ~" { * * am 22 are ae f BA > TP ree Uncle Honest. in earnest in my life. since she came to Hornets’ Nest, but claim with force, if need be. marry her, anyhow. daughter.” He ended his little speech, but the silence re- mained unbroken—Uncle Honest sat staring at him in dumfounded amazement, and, it seemed, utterly incapable of speech. CHAPTER XXVIII. A STORM IN THE OUTERBRIDGE CAMP, THERE was no room to doubt that the Peace- maker was astonished, and a less resolute per- son than Peter would have been disturbed by the expression on the old man’s face. That face became rigid; his eyes seemed fixed, and they ‘were certainly glassy; and it was clear that he was taking it more severely than was to be ex- pected even by one who knew hirn as well as his son. ‘‘You don’t mean it, Peter!” he finally said, almost ina whisper. ‘* You can’t mean it.” “But I do, just the same. I fancy Peggy, and am going to marry ber,” ‘* But she is under our ban.” **T know it.” **Tt is too late to think of it.” ‘‘QOur will is all-powerful here. No one will object if I marry her. Let the villagers try it if they dare!” and Peter held out one ponderons hand, firmly clinched. “But Peggy is daughter of a train-wrecker —the once-notorious Garret Jeffreys.” ‘* Never mind; I’m not thin-skinned.” ‘*She is not your equal.” ** T think she is.” ‘*She will not consent to marry you.” ‘**T will compel her.” Peter was meeting every objection with steady firmness which showed how much in earnest he was, and Uncle Honest saw that the cloud which had arisen was no trifling one. He braced him- self to meet it. He was now fully himself, an be had not the least idea of humoring Peter's fancy. He was determined that Peggy should never come into his family, but, since Peter bad taken such an unlucky fancy, it would be no more than right to deal with him as a hitherto- fore-obedient son deserved. His voice was never milder than when he an- ‘Swered: * But, my boy, it ismy wish that you give her ‘““[ am sorry to disappoint you, but I must refuse,” Peter replied, firmly but respectfully. ** Remember, | am your father.” **T do remember.” ** Bear in mind who the girl veallyis. Her name is, or was, Ursula Jeffreys, and her father wasa train-robber who was killed on one of bis raids, Surely, my son, you would not sully the Src erie honor by allying yourself with er : for me. [’m sorr find Peggy will make you a dutiful daughter.” *Daughter!’* cried Uncle Honest, with sud- | ‘*{ would as soon have a snake | den bitterness, here!” ‘*T prefer the girl.” ** Furies take the girl!” ‘**T prefer to take ber myself.” “‘ Boy,” thundered Uncle Honest, “‘ be careful | how you speak. Iam your father, and will not be ttienlvode” “* Pray don’t insult my future wife, then.” ** How long since you took to giving orders to me “*T ain’t giving any, and don’t want it under- stood so, but you must remember that I am old enough to choose for myself. You have advised all your sons to marry—” ‘* Not to such a person as that girl. Thereare “4 young women without number in the village who would make wives any man might proud to have. Wilber, Peters, Maynard, Em- mons, Grinnel—all have daughters whom I | would welcome, but not the Jeffreys girl—not that one.” Uncle Honest showed a good deal of feeling, but be was trying to avoid severity. In his way he had a fatherly regard for Peter, and wished to convince him by mild measures that he was contemplating a serious mistake. ‘* Unfortunately,” replied Peter, ‘‘she is just the one I have selected.” ** My son, I want you to give her a *“*T shall have tosay no. My mind has been fixed on her, as I said before, ever since she came to Hornets’ Nest, but she showed plainly that she did not like me. Nowshe is where she can’t use that flippant will of hers. Sheisa prisoner, andI can command, not request. I want her for my wife, and I want you to help me. Oblige mein this, and you will find me a more faithful aid than ever before.” “In what?” en ** In all your plans,” ; ** What plans shall I have then?” **T don’t understand.” I’ve fancied Pegey ever knew very well that she didn’t fancy me. Now, things have changed, and I am in position to urge my I’m determined to I dare say I’ve astonished but Peggy will make you a charming | train-wrecker. | I will forget that “She is none the worse for what her father | did, and she just suits me. Nobody but myself | will‘have to marry her, and she is good enough | we don’t agree, but you'll | ‘* Do you know what would be the result of such a mad marriage?” ** You can tell me.” “We should lose all position and power here; the people would not follow those who had taken into their domestic circle the daughter of a We have held our position here by means of our spotless integrity and re- spectability—” Peter put out one hand. ** Don’t!” he said, tersely. ‘Don’t what?” asked Uncle Honest, with a frown. ‘“Why not abandon that idle pretense here? You and I know, if the ‘ people’ do not, how we have ruled Hornets’ Nest, bat has become of those who have opposed us? Ask the depths of the mountain pools and the heart of the sand in the lonely gulches—” Eliakim had vainly commanded silence with a gesture. He now laid hold of Peter’s arm, and his grasp was painful even to the muscular Leather-Jacket. The old man’s eyes were flash- ing, and his face had grown pale. ** Be still!” he hissed; ** be still, or, by Heaven! ou are my son and strike you dead at my feet! How dare you?—how dare you speak of those thin His huge form was quivering with rage, and it was plain that bis was no idle threat, but Peter’s nature was too fearless and stoical to admit of alarm, He retained his calmness, and made no effort to throw off the painful grasp on his arm, but Uncle Honest stepped back a few paces and surveyed him with bitter emotion which was a mixture of grief, disappointment and anger. ‘* This from my son!” he uttered, unsteadily, and with a degree of pathos. ** Come,” replied Peter, quietly, ‘* you don’t do me — I am not reproaching you, or quarreling with the chances that have given me, as well as you, ease and power; I only wished to remind you of facts. Our way is all right, but don’t let us get too strict; don’t let us attack Peasy.” ** Curse the girl!” ‘* Father, you are severe,” “Why shouldn’t I be? The idea of your dar- ing to fancy that girl!” Peter began to lose his temper. ‘The girl is all right,” he doggedly returned. ** You must give her up.” ** I decline.” ** Boy, will you defy my authority?’ ‘* Not in matters of business, but I must be allowed to marry to suit myself.” **You must?” **Come, Idon’t want to quarrel,” sulkily an- swered the younger man, “‘ but you are pressing me too bard.” ** You would make me a nonentity.” Peet ee you make ying irl, and, b wou ave you give up that girl, and, by Judas! you shal Words pou have been waited, and I will now talk to the point, You must give her up. She is very much dis- liked here, and by no one more than Charity Potter, a most exemplary lady who is a good judge of other women. if the Jeffreys girl came into our family we should lose the re- spect of the people, and with it would go our authority. You know as well as I do how important it is that we rule here awhile longer. Hornets’ Nest is a small place, but by my peculiar mode of financial proceeding we are getting rich. The property we have con- fiscated nets a handsome sum, In the treasury are numerous papers which seem to represen and hold to the town, all the confisca roperty, but they are not worth a straw. eally, the money is all in Denver banks, in my name. Shall we give up this easy mode of getting rich?” “Tt is not necessary—” “It is, if this marriage goes on.” ‘* Well, we are not beggars, now.” *** Wel!’ You forget that the money all stands in my name,” ‘No, but [am your son—” ** How would you like to be a beggar?” **Tt would not be pleasant, but—” “Marry that girl and not a cent of my money shall ever be yours!” Uncle Honest struck his clinched hand upon his knee and glared savagely at hisson. He no louger had the appearance of a ‘‘ Peacemaker;” his anger had torn away the mask of years, and he allowed his passions full play. ss “ — would disinherit me, eh?” asked Peter, ow . = Most certainly I would!” Eliakim declared. ‘* Suppose I should develop a revengeful trait?’ quietly answered the Leather-Jacket. ‘Suppose I should get square by giving away our mutual secrets?” The Peacemaker drew himself erect, and the expression on his face-was most ferocious. **Would you do that?’ he asked, in a tense voice. **T did not say so.” ‘* 1f you did do it,” Uncle Honest deliberately replied, ‘* you would seal your own fate, Were — hundred times my son you shouldidie like a cur Resolute as he was, Peter wavered a little be- en en ee OO Ne LT LN fore this bitter threat, but Eliakim almost im- mediately added: ‘“*No, no; it will never come to that. The Outerbridges will not turn against each other. Don’t let us speak of it. Let the matter rest for now, Peter—we will both take time to think. We ought not to—we must not quarrel. There has never been a break between me and my sons. Let 1t not begin now. Give me your hand, Peter!” His mauner had entirely changed, and he was again himself. He actually managed to smile. Peter gave his hand, but both men knew that the trouble was not so easily mended. The rebellion against his authority was a severe blow to Uncle Honest, and Pete was doggedly determined to persist in his intentions. The trouble was put aside for the time, but as the younger man went out it was apparent that the old relations were seriously changed. The future did not promise to restore harmony. CHAPTER XXTX. KNIFEBELT REVEALS A STARTLING SECRET. WHEN Eliakim Outerbridge was once more alone he revealed in another way the keen disa- xintment of Peter’s rebellion. He cared for is sons to such a degree that be had regarded them as far superior to other young men, but there was so little real tenderness about it that, in case one of them opposed bimself to his father, the latter could have ordered him to doom with- out any t sorrow. Left alone, the old man saw only too plainly that the harmony of the Outerbridge family was threatened, and there lay his chief grief. They had previously been so well in accord that one mind directed them all; Uncle Honest had only to give one order and it would be obeyed. With his shrewd, crafty and fertile mind to scheme, and their ability, unscrupulousness and physical strength to execute, they had consti- tuted a power; and Eliakim had hoped that they would go on in the same harmony, achiey- ing new honors and acquiring new power. The rebellion of the youngest brother, con- sequently, was a severe blow, and as the scbem- ing old man saw bis dearest hopes menaced he experienced disappointment most acute. an e arose and began to pace the room excit- y. ** Peter must yield!” he muttered. ‘‘ He must! he must! Itis true be would be but one lost, but once let the defection begin and my power would wane. The trouble must be ehecked at the start. Peter must give up the girl; he shall ne her up! Tl see bim again and talk more ully; Pll present logical reasons to bim which he cannot defy. Hisis only a passihg fancy; T’ll cure him of it, and ma him off to Hul- dah Emmons or Sarah Wilber—anybody but the girl, Peggy. Her he shall give up, or he will be my son no longer. Vl drive him out; I'll deprive him of all share in my property; and if he betrays our secrets—if he dares be- tray them!—so much the worse for him!” The Peacemaker clasped his hands nervously, and his wrinkled face worked strangely. *“Tsaac and Aaron would still be left,” he continued. ‘‘ My brave, devoted boys! No danger of their defection, They bave no fool- ish fancy for the train-wrecker’s daugbter. Noble boys! Keen of mind and quick of action, with the forms of Hercules! Ha! they are left to me!—they will not fail me!” Now his hands were rubbed together with in- tense satisfaction, and his face lighted up with a fatherly pride. ‘** My noble boys!” he repeated, finding great satisfaction in dwelling on the words, For several minutes he paced the floor, and then a knock sounded at the door. The appli- cant was a hard-featured colored woman who had been his housekeeper for many years, She had come to deliver a note, and when it was done she retired. Eliakim opened the paper and read as follows: * Dear Uncte Honest:—I ain't done nothin’ that I ‘otter be shut upp four, an’ I would like too get out. I am a innocent Boy, an’ if you will let me Out, I will go Away an’ never come back, If any- body has hurt you it wa’n’t me, an’I find prizon life wearing on my health. I’m afrade I have Simptoms uv smallpocks, an’ I never hurt you any- way. I feel pretty bad, an’ you ain’t got a better friend than I Bee. I tolled awl I ‘new befour, But have heerd something elcts sence which will be no Grate importance to you. I shall be glad to tell you Awl if you will let me out uv prizon. Pleez a’point a place uv meating Most konvenience to you, an ob- lige yore humble servance an’ admyrer, KNIFEBELT. “PS, You ain’t got a better friend than I Bee, an’ Ishood Hate to be sik heer with smallpocks, Pleez konsidder it.” Uncle Honest had some trouble in deciphering this epistle, for the penmanship was not much better than the spelling; and when he had read to the end, he was not quite sure how to regard Knifebelt. He determined to see him, how- ever; if the boy had “‘ something elcts” to tell, he wish to hear *: He wrote an order for the boy to be brought to his house, and then called the colored woman and gave it to her. Twenty minutes elapsed, and then Knifebelt appeared, in charge of Aaron Outerbridge. The boy looked smaller than ever by the side of Eomic é ee ob £ = > ae See olf of, ie: as — S" 47 + . 7 al a? is ”- ~ wy ew = | ~ [ iy O > Le a | 7 > QV ~—_J | - x