Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 512 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

“ Captain Velvet’s Big Stake. Captain Velvet smiled at the woman’s words and allowed her to caress the hand he put down. ‘“T wish [ could go along,” she wenton. “I would give worlds if I had my eyes as I once had them. I would like to pick up link after link till I found the trail complete—tiil I stood ready to pay the guilty back. All I have I have given you. You have the dagger point, Somebody must have the broken blade. When you go away it must be to return no more until you have worked out the clew until you, as my sworn bloodhound, bave delivered over to me the guilty and the lost if death the inexorable bas not come between,” ‘* You have my promise, Mona,” ‘‘Which isas good as your oath!” exclaimed the woman. ‘‘On No Man’s Ground you will find your harvest. It is the abode of cool and desperate men under the control, to a certain extent, of some unknown head, They don’t like new-comers; they hate men who have sworn to goto the bottom of crime and to punish the ilty. Captain Velvet, I will try to be patient ere, I will wait in my a blindness for news from my sleuth in No Man’s Land. Call Vetla in.” Captain Velvet withdrew his hand and went to the door. ““ Vetla, child?’ he called once, and the girl who had admitted bim came forward, ‘* Vetila, little one,” resumed the woman, tak- ing the girl’s hands inhers, ‘‘ Our sleuth-hound is going tothe game. We must wait until he comes back, when you will be the richest little lady in California, and I the proudest woman!” ‘Oh, won’t we be glad, then?” cried the child, a beautiful httle creature not more than ten, ‘Yes, the riches will make you happy, and vengeance and restitution will cause my blood to ring through my veins. Long ago a cabin stood on a mountain-side, Vetla—” Mona sto suddenly and looked up at Cap- tain Velve ‘She always stops there,” said Vetla, to the detective. ‘‘It is always ‘ eee agoa cabin stood on a mountain-side,’ and nothing more.” ‘‘Tg ita wonder, captain?” cried the woman. “The time must come when I can go beyond that, It will come with your help. Seme would tell me that the gates of Justice are lock- ed against certain - e, if Iam one of those, the lock must be broken. Kiss Vetla, Captain Velvet. You can take with you to No Man’s Ground no better safeguard than a child’s Vetla sprung willingly to Captain Velvet’s arms, and as they encircled her she kissed him again and again, hen his hand was squeezed by the woman in the chair, and disengaging it at last, he walked from the room with a benediction trembling the air behind him, ‘*Now forthe great hunt of my life!” cried he. ‘‘Now for a grapple with a crime, the thought of which stirs my blood!” CHAPTER IV. THE CODE OF NO MAN’S GROUND, ‘‘ GENTLEMEN, if you please, I would like to shave that man when you’ve hung him!” A stranger request than this probably had never been heard where it had been spoken, and twenty rough-looking men in their shirt-sleeves glanced at the speaker who looked coolly at the person to whom he referred. The sun had dropped behind the great cone of Shasta far away to the west, and the capital of No Man’s Ground had fallen in shadow. In the middle of whatin the South would have been called a plaza stood more than two- score men, and near by a rope with a noose at one end dangled over the limb of a tree, Judge Lynch had held his court and passed sentence. The verdict had been approved by those who had heard it, and it was about to be carried out, The prisoner was a slim man, with a cadaver- ous face and a very long beard. He might have been forty, possibly forty-five, cone there was no tinge of gray in his hair, and his eyes, as brown as his rd, were full of fire even in the shadow of death. ‘“What do you want to shave the prisoner for, Burrell?” asked some one in response to the singular request which had just been heard, ‘““T want what’s in it,” was the answer. The prisoner threw a look toward Burrell. **T don’t a fortune in my beard, but I have no objection to you having it,” said he. wa! aoe you want it for the dust you expect to find there.” “That's just it, sir,” answered Burrell, “I saw aman hanged once in Placerville, and his beard yielded a solid ounce o’ dust, It’s a ere. request for a man to make, but just now I want a stake, for No Man’s Ground has proved barren to Burrell, the rolling stone.” The men of the camp saw the prisoner smile, ‘‘Did you say you want Burrell to have your beard?’ asked the judge of the Californian court. . “« Give it to him.” 5 re shall be done, Stand back there, gentle- men a The crowd between the prisoner and the swinging noose fell back and the following mo- ment the unfortunate stood under the limb, ‘‘ What is your last confession, prisoner?’ put astern voice. ‘‘Remember that on No n’s Ground you stand in the presence of the awful Judge.” ‘‘ Just asif a manin my boots could forget that!” said the prisoner, with a proud curling of the lip. ‘‘I think my confession has been am- ple enough, I don’t see why I should attempt to add to it. I took the dust, I have drifted over California, and a great part of the Terri- tories. I have seen life in all its phases, and I had a curiosity to see No Man’s Ground. Be- fore God, sirs, [ never took anything before, I was not born a thief, but a singular fatality which has followed me all my life has completed its work at last. Why I stole the dust is my secret, What I intended to do with it rests with me and my Maker. I knew the penalty when I put forth my hand to take the accursed thing. Wherever I have been, they hang for theft as for murder. Men of No Man's Ground, when your noose has strangled me it will have silenced a man whose life has been more downs than ups. Far away, beyond the shadows of Shasta, eyes will grow dim watching for one who will never come home, Perhaps it were best for that one to be buried where the vul- tures will not find him, than to go back, a thief, Yet, [swear to you, gentlemen, if I could go back to the same circumstances, I would repeat the act, All the powers of earth could not hold me off. I took the dust, and, God pardon me, I would take it again!” The speech of the condemned strangely affect- ed the bronze crowd. Men looked at one another and then at the prisoner as if they doubted his sanity. The most of them expected to hear him ask for mercy under the noose, and not one thought he would say that he would repeat the crime if let alone. It was probable that if some one had spoken in the prisoner’s behalf at that juncture he could have esca the death penalty; but no one seemed ready to take the initiative step. Burrell was not going to interrupt the pro- ceedings for he was waiting for the victim’s beard for what was in ‘it. A suspension of the execution would deprive him of some dust which, as an unlucky miner, he needed very much at that time, Mark Moline, the prisoner, allowed his lips to close resolutely behind his speech. The silence that followed it appeared to disconcert the pards of No Man’s Ground. ‘‘No requests, prisoner?” suddenly asked the judge of the lynchers’ court. “One. Don’t let the young lady see me after- ward,” As he spoke he glanced over the heads of the crowd and his eyes seemed to rest for a moment on a certain portion of the camp where several cabins stood close together. The looks of several of the men followed his glance, but they very soon came back to him. a promise you, prisoner,” responded the judge. ‘*A thousand thanks.” That was all. The next minute the noose dropped over the head of the condemned, and a pair of dark yel- low hands fixed it under the flowing beard. At the same time the crowd broke a little and fell back, and three men with masks on were seen holding one end of the rope that lay over the limb. ‘The code of No Man’s Ground fixes the penalty for thief,” proclaimed the judge, also stepping back, ‘‘The man before us has been tried and convicted. He has added his confes- sion to the testimony, and the law must take its course, This being the case it is my duty in the presence of the Judge above us to give the signal which blots out the life of Mark Moline, the guilty. Now may God have mercy on the soul we send to His bar of judgment!” With the utterance of the last word the hand of the California judge executed a signal which twenty men saw at once and in a twinkling the body of Mark Moline left the ground. There was no struggling, no cry, as the rope suddenly tightened, and the roughly fashioned cap which had been dropped over the prisoner’s head at the last moment shut out from view the distorted face. The last streaks of daylight fell upon this scene, and then, as if that was enough, night came down like an eagle! Half an hour later a man knelt over an ob- t lying under the tragic limb of the big tree n the square. He was revealed by a candle that burned beside him, and his hands moved back and forth over something tbat bore a striking resemblance te a human face. Burrell,the Rolling Stone of No Man’s Ground, was shaving the dead! His razor was none of the best, but he kept at work antil the stiffening face before him looked little like the man who had confronted the court of No Man’s und during the day just The full brown beard with its particles of gold-dust belonged to Burrell, and when he had completely separated it from the face be care- fully stowed it away in his bosom, At that moment he heard a footstep and he was looking up into a face which he believed he had never seen before. ‘* Hello!” exclaimed the mountain barber. ‘* Hello!” came down the answer.. ‘* You’ve had a quiet customer [ should say,” A light laugh accompanied the remark.. ‘*Quiec?” echoed Burrell, ‘‘ He never wink- ed, and I don’t think he would object to a shampoo.” The man who stood beside Burrell stooped and took up the candle. Then he took a step toward the corpse and held the light close to the face, moving it hither and thither in silence as it suited him best, ‘‘ Ho! this man was hauged!” he suddenly ex- claimed darting a look at the Rolling Stone of No Man’s Ground. ‘He was,” replied Burrell. ‘‘ He was legally tried and as legally sent out of the world.” * For what?” ** Por theft.” ‘* What did he take?” ‘‘ Fifty ounces of dust from Boss Nevada.” ** Did you recover it?” ‘‘ Rvery ounce, sir.” ‘‘ Yet you pulled the man up?” ‘‘The code—the code of No Man’s Ground! You overlook it. Thar’s nothing in the code which gives a thief his freedom because the property is recovered. The crime is there just the same as though he got off with the pro- rty. ‘You reason well. Who was this man?” ‘‘Mark Moline, a rolling stone like Burrell, now of No Man’s Ground, which is me.” The man who addressed Burrell transferred: his gaze from the dead man to the barber, and. looked him over as well as he could by the candle which be still held in his hand. ‘“You can satisfy yourself that we carried out the code and nothing more by a little in- quiry,” Burrell added. ‘¢| know what these mountain laws are. [I’m not unused to them,” and the speaker smiled faintly. Burrell, inthe mean time, had looked the man over from head to foot. He had seen that he was a well-built person, with a keen though frank countenance, and the fact that one of his hands held the bridle of a horse told that he bad just reached the capital of No Man's Ground, sometimes called Satan City. ‘¢You must not think that I a stranger can be interested in a man whom I see for the first time just after justice has dealt with him," the unknown remarked, at length, ‘‘I haven’t been ten minutes in your camp, but you think me inquisitive all the same.” ‘‘Tt’s nothing unusual, captain,” repiied Bur- rell with a grin. ‘‘ Is’pect if I were to enter a strange camp and find a strange man shaving & strange — all alone, I'd ask a few questions myself, e try to do things by the code on No Man’s Ground, but we’re human hyer like peo- le elsewhere. You'll find Boss Nevada in the third shanty from yon light if you want an further particulars, I’ve completed my wor and am off. I’m anxious to see what [ve found.” ‘* What pe found?” “Yes, shaved Mark Moline for his beard. He gave it to me fair and square before they carried out the sentence. A man with a beard in drifting from diggin’s to diggin’s picks up a good deal o’ dust unbeknowns to . ‘‘T see, Good-night, Burrell.” ‘* Good-night—” ; ‘‘ Duff, Duncan Doff,” supplied the stranger, and with another look at each other, the two men parted. As the person who had stolen upon Burrell walked away, he cast another look upon the white face under the tree and said, with a chuckle: “This is a queer introduction to No Man’s Ground!” CHAPTER V. ON DANGEROUS SOIL, Boss Nrvapa was waiting for no one in par- ticular, when he was startled by a rap on his shanty door. y The head man of Satan City, which was the capital of No Man’s Ground, was somewhat of a despot in his way. He was not handsome, neither was he very oe A crooked scar above his right eye—a mark which he hid under the brim of the soft som- brero-like hat he usually wore, detracted from his good looks. Physically be was an Ajax in bronze, but when occasion required, and that was not often in Satan City, he eould be as soft and persuad- ing as a woman. ~ Boss Nevada was called “a dangerous man In nse to the rap, the occupant of the cabin ed out, ‘‘Come in,” and in a moment was face to face with a man as as himself, though not so strongly built. The light on Boss Nevada’s table did not re- Gomicbooks wih AX »Was com |