Beadle's Dime Library No. 51: Red Rob, The Boy Road-Agent — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

gradually rose higher and higher, and ere long the outlaws found themselves traversing the dark, disnial depths of a yawning. canon several hundred feet deep. But Missouri Moll knew the tortuous windings of the rift, and to where it led, and so pushed on in triumph. Soon he and his four companions debouched from the dis- mal gorge into an open-court or park, that was walled in on all sides by the mountain, that rose a thousand feet above them. The moon was now in the zenith, throwing its mellow light into the little valley. For a hundred feet or more the walls rose almost perpendicular, then began to slope gradually backward in irregular tiers, one above the other, like the ter- raced seats of an amphitheater. The shadows concealed many of the irregularities of the awful hights, giving the place that symmetry of form that lingers about the ruined handiwork of man. Here, within this valley, Missouri Moll believed he was safe; but no sooner had he expressed an assurance to that effect than the report of firearms came rolling up the canon, with the sullen roar of artillery, awaking a thousand moun- tain echoes—gathering volume as it advanced. “The guard has been attacked!” exclaimed Missouri Moll, with sudden terror. ‘‘ That old Dakota Dan and them emi- grants have overtaken them in the pass!” They listened with bated breath. The firing ceased all at once—in fact there was but one discharge. Then, when the rebounding echoes of the reports had died away, a deadly hush succeeded. The moon shining down into the little valley fell upon the stolid faces of five motionless horsemen. Suddenly the clatter of hoofs is heard coming swiftly up the stony pass. ‘Brace for a fight, boys!” exclaimed Missouri Moll; ‘it may be enemies what’s got in abead of the rear guard.” Five hands sought a revolver each—five locks clicked as one, and tlie men were ready for fight. Then forth from the shadows of the pass came three rider- less horses, mad with affright. These were followed by two others with riders—all that remained of the five detailed to guard the rear approach. ‘* They’re comin’!” cried one of the fugitives, ‘close be- hind! They’ve killed three of the boys!” ‘*Dismount, men!” roared Missouri Moll, “‘ and defend the approach to the valley with your lives!” CHAPTER XXIV. THE WILD RIDER. {Vv Dakota Dan and his companions had come up with the rear guard of the outlaws when about half-way through the pass; and with one well-directed broadside tumbled three of the villains from their horses—the other two seeking safety in flight. Before firing upon them, however, the old ranger had assured himself of the fact that no captive was in their possession. This attack would place the others on the defensive, and, being fully acquainted with the pass himself, Dan knew it would require some precaution to avert an ambuscade, He trusted, however, to the superior instinct of Humility, and, passing over the three dead outlaws, they picked their way onward through the eternal gloom of the pass. As they approached the valley without finding the enemy, the old ranger began to speculate over the possible movements of the outlaws. ‘He soon arrived at a decision, which proved to be the correct one as to the position and intention of the foe, and at once ordered a halt, saying: “We can’t go another step till daylight, boys; tho’ this may seem a cruel fact to you. The devils are in the valley concealed, coverin’ the mouth of this pass with their rifles. We've ou to wait for daylight, then mebby we can execute a flunk movement onto them. If we could only see now, Humility here, and Patience thar, would do their part, and do it well; but then we can’t, and so we’ll have to wait.” This decision was a painful one to Boswell and St. Kenelm, but they accepted it without a murmur; though the long beurs of night were passed in dire impatience. The first evidence they received of the approach of day was the sight of a slender thread of light hundteds of feet above their heads. ~* Beadle’s Dime ‘Library. Dakota Dan was in no hurry to be on the move. He wailed until broad daylight had unfolded every object in the little valley from the shadows of night. As the sun gilded the distant mountain hights, he crept forward, followed by his two companions. As they neared the mouth of the pass the light struggling in showed that all was clear before them. At length they debouched into the little valley, and to their surprise found it deserted by all except the outlaws’ horses. This, however, convinced them that the villains were not far away-—had secreted themselves in some niche or cave in the carped and fluted walls that hemmed in the little vale. While the three stood carefully searching the valley before them for their enemies, a voice that seemed to come from the clouds shouted forth: : ‘Raise yer eyes, Dakota Dan, and you'll see what yer lookin’ for!” The trio lifted their eyes, and upon a sharp projecting ledge or table-rock, two hundred feet above them, beheld Missouri Moll standing, with Maggie Boswell at his vide. A cry of surprise and indignation burst from the lips of the men, and Humility growled fiercely: Plain and distinct the outlaw and his frail captive stood @ut against the rosy morn, he a demon, she an angel. The shriek of an eagle perched on a cliff high up in the clouds, and the soft chirp of a bluebird in the valley were fit accompaniments to the two spirits on the rock. Three rifles were raised simultaneously to shoot the des: ' perado down, but he interposed the body of the trembling Maggie between him and danger, and then shouted: ‘Shoot if you’d complete what I’ve begun.” ‘‘Don’t fire, for God’s sake!” moaned St. Kenelm, lower- ing his own rifle. Dan and Boswell obeyed the lover’s request. Then the old ranger scanned the rock for some placre | where he might be able to ascend the rock, but the wall was perpendicular. He could do nothing, and he dare not ven- ture further into the valley for fear his body would become the focus for half a dozen concealed rifles. ‘* Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the demon on the cliff. you to shoot!” ‘‘Tt’ll be too easy a death for you, monster,” replied Dan his bearded face assuming a look of intense pain. ‘‘I want that pup to chaw yer throat till yer life leaks out little by jerks.” ‘*You ean talk now,” responded the desperado, “* but I defy you and the men you have back in that pass.” ‘‘That’s good,” said Dan, in a low tone. ‘‘He thinks thar’s more of us back in the canon, but let him think so, and directly I’ll swing old Mortality into posish and send a bullet plumb-center through his brain afore he’s time to creep behind the gal.” ‘*Be careful, Dan, for her sake,” continued St. Kenelm, whose heart could no longer couceal its emotions of love for her so near, and yet so far away beyond their assistance. Maggie was standing on the edge of the dizzy hight, her head bowed, her arms hanging at length and her hands clasped together. Her pale face looked serene in its sadness, and to St. Kenelm, never so sweet and angelic as now. ‘‘Thar’s no way to flank the ’tarnal varmint,” said Dan, after a moment’s reflection, ‘‘ else I’d send Humility, my dorg thar, up to throttle the big, cowardly sneak.” ‘Where do you suppose his men are?” asked Boswell. ‘Three of them’s back in the pass,” replied Dan, face tiously, ‘and I'll venture to assert the others are guardin’ the way by which he got up thar, or else they are hid behind him under them rocks.” “Why don’t you shoot?” suddenly yelled out the des- perado, from above; ‘I’m ready.” “T dare “You be, be you? You're durned brave now, ar’n’t ye?’ Skulk behind a gal, can’t ye? ‘You'll make another boy drink likker, won’t ye?” returned Dan, with all the sarcasm he could throw into the words. ‘**Ho, ho!” retorted the outlaw, ‘‘ vengeance is sweet. Here I can defy you all, and the moment a man of you fires a shot, I will give you what you seek—I will hurl this girl down to you, as true as there is a God!” The brother and lover groaned in spirit. , “You're a brave critter, ar’n’t you? What did that gal do to you?” responded Dan. “Do you see that?” asked the desperado, laying his forefinger on a livid scar that extended across his cheek. “Yes; pity the knife that made it didn’t find your heart,” the old ranger shouted back. ‘** Kither your knife, or that of the man who stands at your ECOMIEHOO SS