Beadle's Dime Library No. 51: Red Rob, The Boy Road-Agent — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

nightfall; and her fears now began to assume proportions entirely beyond the possibility of hope. Once in the Indian stronghold, she knew all chances of escape would be cut off, While brooding over her sid-and bitter fate, a low, pro- longed, whistling sound suddenly stole through the night. Patience pricked up her ears in an instant, deliberately took the bit between her teeth, and like a deer shot away through the woods, witb her double burden. ‘The savage, rocking and bouncing more violently than ever, exerted his utmost strength to check the animal’s flight, while Octavia clung to the red-skin with that desperation born of sudden terror. But the chief’s efforts were as futile as a child’s. Patience plunged on through the woods, her course apparently directed by that peculiar whistle still pul- sing through the air. But the chief was too deeply absorbed in his efforts to keep his equilibrium and gain control of the mare, to hear that whistle; else he might have been less reluctant to vacate his cushioned seat. But to give up a victory already within his grasp, would have been to call down upon his distinguish- ed head a shower of derision from his followers, and so to preserve the dignity of his position, he held on to the reins and Patience held on to the bit. Suddenly the mare dashed into an open, moonlit glade and came to a dead halt. ‘“Down, red skin; it’s my turn to ride,” seid a voice, ac- companied with the click of a gun-lock and the growl of a dog. Dakota Dan, with a leveled rifle, confronted the chief! A cry of joy burst from Octavia’s lips and she leaped to she ground. And a cry of rage burst from the savage’s lips, Seeing nis danger, the chief slid from Patience’s back on the oppo- site side and attempted to flee: But Humility was ready for his part in the drama, and springing forward, seized the Arapaho as he tled, midway between the nape of the neck and the heels, causing him to howl and dance on tiptoe in a gingerly manner. Dan turned to Octavia, but a yell of the approaching warriors would not admit of delay or explanations then be- tween the rescurer and the rescued; and assisting the maiden to a seat on Patience’s back again, the ranger beat a hasty retreat, calling Humility away from the unlucky chief, who was spinning around like a top, in vain endeavors to pet be- hind himself and choke off the dog. The escape was not made a moment too soon. They were barely under cover of the woods ere the warriors burst into the glade on the opposite side. For some time Dan led the way rapidly through the woods, speaking never a word. But as soon as he had as- sured himself that they were out of immediate danger, he stopped short and said: ‘Safe, aren’t you, little one?” «| feel so, at least,” replied the overjoyed maiden, ‘‘ un- der your protection, Dan.” ‘‘ Bless my soul, if that don’t make me feel good!” the ranger exclaimed, as if to himself. ‘* But, smoke of Jerusa- lem!” he continued, ‘‘ didn’t ole Patience, my mare here, play her part well? She war a pestilence to that red-skin that essayed to prod her with his knife. I war deposited whar I couldsee all. And | war mortal afeard she wouldn’t give up at all, and if it hadn’t been for you she wouldn't. I wanted things to turn out just as they did. I’ve had my eye on ‘em all afternoon, and see’d ’em totin’ you along on that litter, and says I to Humility, ‘Thay’d like a hoss to put her on,’ and Humility barked, and then I know’d he thought so, too, and so I circled ’round and got in ahead of you, and fixed up the game onto ’em. Patience is a splen- did kicker, ain’t she? Lord! it’d ’a’ done your soul good to ’a’ see’'d her flip that red-skin over Jordan to the happy huntin’-ground! And I’ll bet she creeped away right smarts ly with you and that red-skin when she heard my whistle. Humph! greased lightnin’s nowhar with her, Octavy. And then come to the finishin’-touches, Humility, thar, displayed his activity and put in a tooth—he! he! he! [ll bet that red-skin don’t sit down squar’ again for a solid year.” ‘* My escape seems miraculous, since | have come to think the whole matter over, Dan,” Octavia said. ‘(It’s nothin’ much after one gits used to it, little one. The great Triangle has done some wonderful things since it began to operate. We've washed the soil of every territory jn the West with our blood, and propose to keep right on till the great Master of life bids us cease our labors.” ‘Dan, do you know what has become of Maggie Bos Red Rob; ‘The Boy Road-Agent. _ 31° _————————— ee — = — well?” Octavia asked, as her mind recurred to her beloved young friend. ‘Yes, my little gal, I do that. She’s safe as a dollar in a Dutchman’s pocket, at Hidden Home.” “Oh, thank Heaven!” murmured the maiden, joyfully. ‘“And who do you think saved her?” questioned the old ranger. “I daresay, my friend and rescuer, Dakota Dan.” “Wrong,” replied Dan, as if flattered by her guess; “‘ a chap done it who, for pure, undefiled dare-devilishness and harem-skarem, rip and thunder recklessness, aren't this side of the grave, and his name is Red Rob, the Boy Road- agent.” “Red Rob?” repeated Octavia, as if she doubted the evi- dence of her hearing. “Yes, Red Rob; but the boy’s a prisoner now. The soljers come a-robber-huntin’ up from Fort Winyate, and kaptered him. And I expect it’ll go hard with him, too, for soljers has got little mercy fur sich fellers. He war to | be tried, and if found guilty, as in course he will be, be war to be shot.” A groan burst from Octavia’s lips, and a cloud far more gloomy than the night overshadowed her heart. CHAPTER XXVIII, THE IMPRISONED MAID. Ws left Asa Sheridan and his betrothed, the lovely Zella, face to face with Leopold Hamallado in the mountain grotto. The look that mounted the face of the dark-visaged Span- iard was one of consuming rage and fiendish triumph mingled. His lips curled with all the scorn and indignation of his wicked soul, and his dark eyes snapped and glowed as if with living fire, Asa Sheridan saw the uncompromising fury of the man’s heart, and he arose to his teet determined to defend himselt and Zella to the last; but before he had shown his intention by any hostile movement, a dozen of Hamallado’s men ap- peared at the entrance to the grotto. ; Resistance now, on the part of Sheridan, would be sheer madness. ‘Hal byethe Holy Virgin!” exclaimed Hamallado, with savage fury and triumph, ‘‘we have found the villain and his gentle friend!” ‘Oh, father!” cried Zella, imploringly, springing forware and throwing herself at the villain’s teet, ‘‘ spare him, father, [ implore you!” The wretch seized her rudely and thrust her aside with e horrible oath. “I will spare him, the young dog!” hissed the villain. ‘*T will spare him only for the tiger-pit; and you, girl, will suffer for this under the bastinado. A cozy nest to woo your. mate in, my gentle child. But I will see to your happiness hereafter, And you, dog of a miner and scapegrace—you will not escape my vengeance again. Here, men! seize and bind the young villain—cut his throat if he offers the least resistance.” The young man saw how useless—even dangerous, it was to offer resistance; so he had to quietly submit to the power of the outlaws, and was securely bound. Hamallado searched the grotto. He found the book in which was that letter of fiendish triumph and gloating re- venge. This added new fuel to his consuming wrath, and Zella’s poor heart almost ceased to beat through fear that he would murder herself or lover in cold blood to appease that terrible fire in his breast. Asa was conducted down the mountain side, across a little chaparral, beyond which lay acres of those ancient ruins that are strewn through the San Juan valley. Ie was taken to and inside an old quadrangular building—the only one amid the ruins that held out any inducement as a habitation. And even this from the exterior looked like a huge pile of stone and sun-dried brick, overgrown with rank weeds and parasi- tical vines. The captive was led along a dismal passage, down a flight of moldy, slippery stairs, and Into We vey Aungeon which Slyly, the Weasel, had liberated him a week previous. Here he was bound hand and foot and chained to the cold, slimy floor. A guard was then placed at the door, and all possibilities of escape cut off, CORMMIEOOOKS (©)