Beadle's Dime Library No. 562 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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7 ace Lone Hand, the Shadow. oe devils—the bloodthirsty scoundrels—so as to teach them a lesson which will be apt to make them keep their paws off of white men in the future.”’ “The only good Injun is a dead Injun!” Comauche Charley declared, voicing the. opinion which nine out of every ten bordermen hold, The ranchers took their places in the ranks | and again the cavalcade proceeded, Eddie Livingstone and the New Yorker, Bishop, led the advance, the marshal riding by their side, and doleful faces both of them wore as they rode again over the prairie toward the rugged peaks of the Wichita Mountains. The party entered the rocky regions, and traversed the Southwest Pass until they came to the little valley where the surprise had taken place, ‘* 4 few moments now, and we will see the body, unless the red-skins have removed him from the spot where he fell,” Eddie Livingstone remarked. But, to the surprise of all concerned, when the riders reacbed the neighborhood of the clump of pines, not the slightest trace could they discover of the body. The only signs which remained to show that a most foul murder bad been perpetrated, was a dried blood-stain upon a smooth, flat rock. Eddie Livingstone called attention to the stain. ‘‘This is where poor Sandy fell, I think, and that spot is caused by his plood falling on the stone.” ‘‘ But what has become of the body?’ Wal- lace asked. ‘‘If MacAlpine was dead, as you state, when you left home, the body ought to be here.” ‘ “ Most certainly he seemed like a dead man!” Eddie Livingstone replied. ‘‘ For if he bad not been, I would have endeavored to have saved him. But when he told me that be was done for, and sunk back lifeless, I concluded that as nothing more could be done for him, I had bet- ter try to save myself.” ‘That is correct!” Bishop declared. ‘‘I saw Mr. Livingstone stop to help Mr. MacAlpine, although the bullets were flying around him, and [ would not have been willing to take the risk he ran for a good many dollars,” ‘*The body is probably somewhere near at hand,” the Triangle rancher suggested. ‘* And a search will disclose it, The Indians may have moved it.” Acting on this idea, the most of the party dis- mounted and, leaving their horses in the care of those who remained in the saddle, mude an ex- haustive search, but not the slightest trace could be found of the body. Then some one suggested that Comanche Charley should try his skill as a tracker and see if he could not hit upon the trail of the red- skins. ‘‘ Wal, gents, it would have been a good deal better if you had made that suggestion before,” the saloon-keeper remarked. ‘¢ What difference does it make, Comanche?” the marshal asked. ‘Why, it don’t give a man much show to lift a trail arter a dozen galoots have been scamper- ing all over the ground,” the old Indian-fighter replied. MThat is true, sure as shooting!” Bud Mc- Cracken cried. ‘‘ We were a pack of idiots not to think of that afore! Still I s’pose it is better late than never, though I reckon you don’t stand much show for your white alley now!” “Wal, things ain’t as good as they would have been if you fellows had not trampled all over the ground; still, mebbe, I can draw a circle ’round and lift the trail,” Comanche Charley remarked, Now, gents, jest keep quiet for a while and give me a show!” ‘Gather right round hyer, boys, and give Comanche a clear sweep,” the marshal re- marked, The members of the expedition gathered around Bud McCracken, who stood upon the rock upon which was the stain of blood, and then Comanche Charley proceeded around the party in a circle, gradually widening it as he progressed, the rest watching him with a deal of interest, The eyes of the old Indian scout were bent upon the ground as he proceeded, but not until he made a second circle which took him beyond the spot where the Greerville men had tramped over the ground did he show signs that he had discovered anything, ' _ Then from the peculiar way he was proceed- ae watchers guessed that he had struck the ail, For a good ten minutes Comanche Charley kept up the search and then he halted by a chain of low, flat-topped rocks, which led off through the valley to the northwest, another passage by means Of which entrance could be gained to the valley. “Wal, as near as I kin make out, the cusses hid in that ar’ little clump of junipers,” Co- manche Charley announced, ‘“‘and although they did a good deal of roving over the grass, yet I reckon thar wasn’t but three or four of em, I put the number down low, for I can’t find any other place whar they seemed to have hid, ’cept in them junipers, and the clump ain’t | teres nesses esses sei esses SSS sss Sse big enuff to hold more’n three or four men. But thar’s another footprint along with the mocca- sin tracks that gits me! It is the treadof a white man—a pretty big fellow too, I should judge, from the looks of the track.” ‘* Possibly that is Sandy MacAlpine’s tread,” Alex Wallace suggested. ‘*No, [ don’t think so, for I can distinguish one of Sandy’s footprints over yonder, and this is made by a different kind of a boot altogether. Sandy wore a low, flat heel, while this man’s boot has a high heel, a good deal on the cowboy style—a riding-boot, you know, and whoever made the tracks came down along that fringe of timber,” and the speaker pointed to an irregular row of stunted trees which grew along the west entrance to the valley. The men of the expedition noticed that Co- mancbe Charley had gone up to the fringe of timber, making a most careful examination as he went along. ‘* Yes, sir-ree, it is a mighty queer thing,” the old scout remarked, scratching his head as though greatly puzzled, ‘‘and I don’t under- stand it at all. The man with the high heels, that came down through the timber, was evi- dently stealing along, and taking particular care not to make any noise, for all through the timber he walked on tip-toes, never touching his heels to the ground, making the queerest kind of a track that I ever puzzled my head over, and after he left the timber | should judge that he came on at a jump.” “It certainly is very strange,” Alex Wallace remarked, ‘‘ But how did the Indians come into the valley?” ‘* Along that rocky ridge from the westward, I reckon, for I can’t find any traces of ’em, any- whar, and it they came over the rocks it would account for it, for the rocks blind the trail.” *** Ah, yes, I see. Can you find any signs showing which way they departed?’ Wallace asked. The Triangle rancher being regarded as an extremely shrewd fellow, all were willing that he should do the questioning, satisfied that he would get at the truth better than any man in the party. ‘* No; so I reckon all of them must have gone over the rocks,” And this was all that could be ascertained in regard to the mysterious affair, The search was kept up until the setting sun warned the Greerville men that it was time for them to return to the town, Greatly disappointed at their failure, the cav- alcade took up the homeward march, All the town was on the alert to receive them, and vast was the surprise which was manifested Be ek strange story which the “ outfit” had to tell. That Sandy MacAlpine was dead no one doubted, but what had become of the body? This was a riddle which defied solution, CHAPTER XXXIV. ON THE TRAIL, PossiBLty the reader has been wonderin what has become of the Lone Hand during all this time, for we have neglected him now for several chapters. He was not among the crowd who assembled to debate what should be done to avenge the cruel death of Sandy MacAlpine, being absent from the town, and as his adventures are of in- terest, we will follow his footsteps. After taking up his quarters in Greerville, he had made a careful examination of the saloons of the town, for long experience had taught him that if the Red Wolves of Wichita had spies in the town—something which he doubted not—the chances were great that some of the saloons would be used by them for a house-of-call, After a close inspection he came to the con- clusion that. Comanche Charley’s Cowboy’s Home would bear watching. _ Then bis attention was attracted to Whisper- ing Ben, and he soon came to the opinion that he was an Eastern crook, but what he was doing in this obscure Texan town was a mystery. The Lone Hand kept his eyes upon this indi- vidual and made up his mind to ‘shadow ” him in the most persistent manner, ‘*To my tbinking there is ro man in the town who is so likely to be in league with these Wichita Mountain outlaws as this smooth, oily- tongued fellow,” the man-hunter mused. ‘TI will make it my business to see just exactly what he does during the next few days.” The Lone Hand bad not forgotten that he had been in the Jew’s store, examined the letter-rack and had spoken about getting some mail, just about the time that the decoy letter was taken, and he strongly suspected that this Mr. Benja- min Armstrong was the man who had taken it, So it happened that when Whispering Ben mounted his horse and set forth for a ride one day, a mile or so behind him, came the Lone Hand, It was a difficult country to shadow a man in, forit was not possible for the tracker to get anywhere near the man upon whose trail he was following without danger of discovery, but the Lone Hand was provided with a powerful field- glass, which was a great aid. Then too, Whispering Ben was an extremely re WE g at ee ~s 5 oe ' bad rider; he had not been accustomed to riding and was far from being at home in the saddle, so he rode very slowly, never allowing his horse to go faster than a slow canter. wing to this fact it was much easier to shadow him than if he had been a dashing Texan rider who delighted in a smart gallop. On went Whispering Ben, and behind him, as constant as his shadow, came the Lone Hand, A few miles out of Greerville, Whispering Ben halted and engaged in a conversation with two young men, and the man-hunter, tak- ing advantage of a small grove of timber, man- aged toapproach within an eighth of a mile of the spot upon which the three stood, As the reader bas probably suspected, W his- pering Ben was the man who introduced himself to Sandy MacAlpine and Eddie Livingstone as the school teacher, Naban Bishop, ‘“Now what game is he up to?’ the Lone Hand muttered. By the aid of his field-glass, he had been able to identify the two young men, and having made their acquaintance in Greerville, was not inclined to regard them with suspicion. ** If those two young fellows are not all right, then I am woefully deceived!” he murmured, The entrance into the house of all the party puzzled the man-bunter. ‘*Since I have begun I will see it out!” he ex- claimed. There was another little grove, much nearer the bouse, and the Lone Hand made his way to it, and there sat down to wait. And, as the reader knows, a long and weary. wait be had of it, too, for Whispering Ben did not take his departure until the next morning, when, in company with the young men, he started for the Wichita Mountains, The Lone Hand always went provided for such sieges as this, for he carried both food and drink in his saddle-bags, Into the Wichita Mountains, stanch as the hound on the scent of blood, he trailed the three, After the party got into the Wichita Mount- ains, the sleuth-hound found his task an easier one. The rough, irregular nature of the ground compelled the horsemen to proceed at a slow rate, and when the party halted in the little val- ley, the Lone Hand, anticipating that they had come to their journey’s end, hid bis horse in a convenient thicket, and, seeing that there was good cover to the northwest amid the rocks, made a circle so as to get into that locality. In order to do this he was obliged to make a considerable detour, and he was fully an eighth of a mile from the rocking stone when the at- tack on the party took place, The Lone Fland was well up on the hillside, so he had a good view of the tragedy, although he was not able to see the assailants, as they kept in concealment; their wild whoops, though, betrayed that they were Indians. The man-bhunter was so situated that he could not interfere to take a hand in the fight, for he was on the further side of a deep defile, and by the time that he had crossed it and gained the rocky ridge which led down into the valley, the affair was all over. Nese aes. Ben and Eddie Livingstone were fleeing for their lives, pushing their horses to their best speed. The Lone Hand soon made up his mind. - “T don’t know how many there are of these red rascals,” he muttered, ‘* but from the fact of their striking to cover so closely I should fancy that there is not a large party, and they fear to come out lest that fact should become known; if this is the truth I think I will try to give them a lesson which will last them one while,” Then, with cautious steps, taking advantage of every bowlder, tree-clump and group of bushes to afford him shelter, he advanced toward the rocking stone. The men in ambush, who had so wantonly assailed the little party, did not attempt to pur- sue the fleeing men, although they yelled and discharged shot after shot to give the fugitives the impression that they were hot in pursuit, The Lone Hand understood what they were up to, and stronger grew his impression that the ambushed men were few in number. ** It would be a joke, now, if I could sueceed in turning the tables upon them,” he muttered, ‘*They surprised the three white men, and now I think there is a chance for me to surprise them. * The man-hunter succeeded in getting within © a hundred yards of the rocking stone before the | men in ambush came into the open. Perceiving that they_were forcing their way through the bushes the Lone Hand sunk behind a convenient clump of junipers and, peerm through the leafy screen, watched to see wha manner of men it was who had compassed the death of Sandy MacAlpine. Out from the bushes stepped two men, hab- ited in the buckskin garb of the red-skip, with painted faces and coarse black hair adorned with feathers, But no red warrior who had ever trod mother earth walked as these men walked, and the hoarse shouts of laughter which came from - eA # # * ) * y, (e)o) =) | ti ae! aa