Beadle's Dime Library No. 51: Red Rob, The Boy Road-Agent — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

32- Sad and serious thoughts now crowded upon the young man’s brain. He had brought all this suffering upon him- self. Why had he not made his escape from the surround- ing dangers when he was free to go? Why had he remained inactive in the mountain grotto, when night after night of- fered its friendly shelter under which to depart in safety? Ah! why, indeed? His own heart answered: he was a cup- tive even in the mountain grotto. Love held him there en- chained, and what danger would a true man not brave for the woman that he loves? One thought brought others in its train, until finally the night of his first captivity, with all its horrors, was recalled to memory. And then the face of that noble old man, the mysterious Basil Walraymond, stood before his mental vi- sion. He recalled all that Zella had told him of the ‘ tiger- pit,” of the crushed and broken arm of the old man, and his escape into the forest. But, where was he now? Had he perished in the woods for want of some friendly aid? Was he a wandering sufferer among the mountain hills, dying slowly by inches? While these thoughts were revolving through his mind, Zella, his betrothed, was weeping, sad and lonely, in all the agony of a broken heart, in a room on the floor above, where she had been imprisoned by the wretch whom she had al- ways loved as a father. Leopold Hamallado was seated be- fore her, mocking her in her helplessness. ‘You have brought this all upon yourself, girl,” he said, with a savage fierceness in his tone, ‘‘and now you’ll have to suffer the extreme penalty. You managed that miner’s escape, you hid him away among the hills, fed and wooed him there, at the same time denying all knowledge of his whereabouts. Then to cap the climax, you carried him the book and letter—” “In which you exposed your fiendish character!” cried Zella, in a fierce, reproachful tone. ‘““T have proven myself an enemy that seeks a terrible re- venge, girl. I loved your mother and warned your father that if he won her away from me he would rue it. And so he has. He shall know yet that I have his child, and that I propose to make her my wife. You are the very picture of your mother. She was an educated woman, and that you might be as near like her in every respect as was possible, I sent you to school and into the best society at Albuquerque. Your father is still living, and I will tell you something about him before long that will astonish you. But in one week from to-day we leave Quivira ruins for Salt Lake City, and between now and then—or %s soon as the men all get home—your handsome, vagabond lover will be consigned to death in the tiger-pit.” Zella stirred not, nor even evinced the slightest emotion ut the man’s fiendish words and threats. But nothing es- taped her ears. Every word was indelibly stamped on her memory. Presently the villain arose and left the room, locking the door behind him. Then the resolute courage that she had been struggling to keep up so long, gave way, and the maiden burst into a flood of tears. The deepest anguish wrung her poor young heart. She was kept a close prisoner, her wants being attended by the old negress that was both cook and housekeeper in the outlaws’ retreat, From the negress she learned thut active preparations for departure from the ruins were going on. She said the cap- tain was getting uneasy—that he had expressed a fear of that old man who had escaped from the tiger-pit. ““Where is Slyly, Huldali?” Zella asked the negress one morning, when she brought in her breakfast. ** He’s skulkin’ round de ruins here like a kill- -ship fiste- dog. Guess he’s up to some deviltry. De ole massa jist mo’n licked thunder outen him yisterday, and he look mos’ awful sneakin’, does dat Slyly boy.” This news, bad as it was in one respect, gave Zella. some hope. She felt satisfied that her faithful servant-boy wouid leave nothing undone to liberate her. On the fourth night of her incarceration she suddenly be- came aware that something or some one was in the room, She was so terrified that she could not move nor utter a word. It was so dark in the room that she could not see her hand before’ her. .An awful horror stilled her heart; and at last, when it seemed as though the awful suspense could be borne no longer, a voice whispered: ‘“Missus Zel-lee!” the last syllable slipped out into a shrill, wheezy squeak. Beadle’s Dime Library. It was Slyly, the Weasel. The sudden reaction from terror to joy left Zella so weak that she could scarcely stand. “Is it you, Slyly?” she gasped, as if in doubt. ‘*“’'You jist bet, Missus Zella. Guess if I wasn’t so black like de darkness, you could see me.” ** Where did you get in, Slyly?” ‘“Jings! I jis’ wiggle-waggled in; but sorry to say you can’t git out dar, missus. But I come in to see you, and see if I could do ennything for you.” ‘* What’s going on outside, Slyly?” ‘* Oh, Lord, missus! ebb’rything dat’s bad. De ole massa givin’ me de awfulestcst whalin’ dat I ever had. Whew-ee! he jis’ made de blood fly! I'd kill him, dead, missus,” and the boy’s voice fell to a calm, deliberate tone, ‘‘ if you’d tell me to.” ‘* Oh, no, Slyly! never! You would be a murderer then —the wickedest of wicked people. But, what is your mas- ter and the men doing?” ‘‘ Fixing up de tiger-pit to put de young man, Massa Sher-a-ding, into. De men cotch two mos’ gol-whoppin’ big bears in de bear-traps and dey am gwine to make dem eat de prisoner up, ’fore de Lord dey is, Missus Zella.” ‘“Slyly, you have been a_ good, kind boy to me,” said Zella, laying her hands upon the youth’s head. ‘‘ If I ever can, I will make you a present. of a pony or a gun some day; or whatever else you would prefer.” ** Golly, missus! guess Dll take a big, long plug ob to backer.” Zella could not help smiling at the boy’s aspiration, but having promised him the coveted article, she said: “Slyly, can’t you turn the bears out and let them get away'?” ‘‘Guess not, missus; ’fraid dey’ll cotch dis nigger. But I knows sumthin’ betier’n dat, I does. I know how mean ole massa kill de wolves dat howl in de valley. He put pising in de meat and give it to dem. I knows whar de pising is, and I guess I give some to de b’ars.” ‘“Do so, Slyly, and you will never regret it,” replied Zella, highly pleased with the youth’s idea. ‘* But be very careful that you are not caught in the act, or it will cost you your life.” “Think I will be dog-goshed careful, missus.” The boy soon left the room, his exit being made with that wonderful silence with which he had entered. The next morning Zella looked for the place where he had effected his entry, but could see no sign of an opening in the walls, the ceiling or the floor. The coming night was the time set for the execution, or rather the torture, of Asa Sheridan; and, as the day wore away, @ vague and horrible suspense took possession of Zellw’s mind, which was increased by a dull, foreboding sound without, resembling the moan of a coming storm. Shortly after darkness set in, Slyly stood at her side in her prison room, ‘Did you succeed in killing the bears, Slyly?” the maiden asked, trembling through fear of a negative answer. ‘* Lord, yes, missus; de b’ars am as dead as Noah!” the youth replied, Zella’s brain grew dizzy with the sudden rush of blood from her heart that had seemed to be growing cold with fear and horror; but she soon recovered her composure and askeds ** Does your master know it?” ‘* Guess he does, missus; and, Lord gosh! it ’d do yoah soul good to hear him chaw out de awfulestest cuss words, Gracious Peter! but he’s jist a-foamin’ mad! I tell you it’s fun to hear him cuss and rave. He’s a mighty easy swearin’ man—words flow as easy like as de San Ju-ann,” ** Does he mistrust who poisoned them?” ** No, guess not, for I heard him say he’d extarminate the one that done it if he knowed who it war.” ‘‘Do you know what they’re going todo with the cap tive?” ‘* No; but I thought I’d come and tell you what I’d done so’s you wouldn’t take on.” ‘Well, Slyly, I want you to go hack and watch, thsm. If you can liberate Mr. Sheridan do so, and then let me hear from you.” “All right, missus, Il go right now, ’ca’se I’s in a hig hurry—want to hear ole. massa boom and swear "bout de b’ars. I tell ye, it’s gay.” Zella made no reply to the eccentric youth’s remark, and the next moment she was alone, Eomirchboo SS (E(0) : ; | (LILLY