THE ROAD-AGENT'S MERCY--CONCLUSION.
Nevertheless, the gleaming blade of Alexander Filmore descended, and
was buried in the fleshy part of Deadwood Dick's neck, making a wound,
painful but not necessarily dangerous.
"You vile varmint," cried Calamity Jane, pulling the hammer of one of
her revolvers back to full cock; "you cursed fool; don't you know that
that only seals yer own miserable fate?"
She took deliberate aim, but Dick interrupted her.
"Don't shoot, Jennie!" he gasped, the blood spurting from his wound;
"this ain't none o' your funeral. Give three shrill whistles for my
men, and they'll take care o' these hounds until I'm able to attend to
'em. Take me to the cab--"
He could not finish the sentence; a sickening stream of blood gushed
from his mouth, and he fell back upon the ground insensible.
Fearless Frank gave the three shrill whistles, while Calamity Jane
covered the two cowering wretches with her revolvers.
The distress signal was answered by a yell, and in a few seconds five
road-agents came bounding up.
"Seize these two cusses, and guard 'em well!" Calamity said, grimly.
"They are a precious pair, and in a few days, no doubt, you'll have
the pleasure of attending their funerals. Your captain is wounded, but
not dangerously, I hope. We will take him to the cabin, where there
are light and skillful hands to dress his wounds. When he wants you,
we will let you know. Be sure and guard these knaves well, now."
The men growled an assent, and after binding the captives' arms,
hustled them off toward camp, in double quick time, muttering threats
of vengeance. Fearless Frank and Calamity then carefully raised the
stricken road-agent, and bore him to the cabin, where he was laid upon
the couch. Of course, all was now excitement.
Redburn and Alice set to work to dress the bleeding wound, with Jane
and the "General" looking on to see that nothing was left undone.
Fearless Frank stood apart from the rest, his arms folded across his
breast, a grave, half-doubtful expression upon his handsome,
sun-browned features.
Anita was not in the room at the time, but she came in a moment later,
and stood gazing about her in wondering surprise. Then, her eyes
rested upon Fearless Frank for the first, and she grew deathly white;
she trembled in every limb; a half-frightened, half-pitiful look came
into her eyes.
The young man in scarlet was similarly effected. His cheeks blanched;
his lips became firmly compressed; a mastering expression fell from
his dark magnetic orbs.
There they stood, face to face, a picture of doubt; of indifferent
respect, of opposite strong passions, subdued to control by a heavy
hand.
None of the others noticed them; they were alone, confronting each
other; trying to read the other's thoughts; the one penitent and
craving forgiveness, the other cold almost to sternness, and yet not
unwilling to forgive and forget.
Deadwood Dick's wound was quickly and skillfully dressed; it was not
dangerous, but was so exceedingly painful that the pangs soon brought
him back to consciousness.
The moment he opened his eyes he saw Fearless Frank and
Anita--perceived their position toward each other, and that it would
require only a single word to bridge the chasm between them. A hard
look came into his eyes as they gazed through the holes in the mask,
then he gazed at Alice--sweet piquant Alice--and the hardness melted
like snow before the spring sunshine.
"Thank God it was no deeper," he said, sitting upright, and rubbing
the tips of his black-glove fingers over the patches that covered the
gash, "Although deucedly bothersome, it is not of much account."
To the surprise of all he sprung to his feet, and strode to the door.
Here he stopped, and looked around for a few moments, sniffing at the
cool mountain breeze, as a dog would. A single cedar tree stood by the
cabin, its branches, bare and naked, stretching out like huge arms
above the doorway. And it was at these the road-agent gazed, a savage
gleam in his piercing black eyes.
After a few careful observations, he turned his face within the cabin.
"Justin McKenzie," he said, gazing at the young man, steadily, "I want
you to do me a service. Go to my camp, and say to my men that I desire
their presence here, together with the two prisoners, and a couple of
stout lariats, with nooses at the end of them. Hurry, now!"
Fearless Frank started a trifle, for he seemed to recognize the voice;
but the next instant he bowed assent, and left the cabin. When he was
gone, Dick turned to Redburn.
"Have you a glass of water handy, Cap? This jab in the gullet makes me
somewhat thirsty," he said.
Redburn nodded, and procured the drink; then a strange silence
pervaded the cabin--a silence that no one seemed willing to break.
At last the tramp of many feet was heard, and a moment later the
road-agents, with Fearless Frank at their head, reached the doorway,
where they halted. The moment Deadwood Dick came forward, there was a
wild, deafening cheer.
"Hurra! hurra! Deadwood Dick, Prince of the Road, still lives. Three
long hearty cheers, lads, and a hummer!" cried Fearless Frank, and
then the mountain echoes reverberated with a thousand discordant yells
of hurrah.
The young road-agent responded with a nod, and then said:
"The prisoners; have you them there?"
"Here they are, Cap!" cried a score of voices, and the two Filmores
were trotted out to the front, with ropes already about their necks.
"Shall we h'ist 'em?"
"Not jest yet, boys: I have a few words to say, first."
Then turning half-about in the doorway, Deadwood Dick continued:
"Ladies and gentlemen, a little tragedy is about to take place here
soon, and it becomes necessary that I should say a few words
explaining what cause I have for hanging these two wretches whom you
see here.
"Therefore, I will tell you a short story, and you will see that my
cause is just, as we look at these things here in this delectable
country of the Black Hills. To begin with:
"My name is, to you, _Edward Harris!_" and here the road-agent flung
aside the black mask, revealing the smiling face of the young
card-sharp. "I have another--my family name--but I do not use it,
preferring Harris to it. Anita, yonder; is my sister.
"Several years ago, when we were children, living in one of the
Eastern States, we were made orphans by the death of our parents, who
were drowned while driving upon a frozen lake in company with my
uncle, Alexander Filmore, and his son, Clarence--those are the parties
yonder, and as God is my judge, I believe they are answerable for the
death of our father and mother.
"Alexander Filmore was appointed guardian over us, and executor of our
property, which amounted to somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty
thousand dollars, my father having been for years extensively engaged
in speculation, at which he was most always successful.
"From the day of their death we began to receive the most tyrannical
treatment. We were whipped, kicked about, and kept in a half-starved
condition. Twice when we were in bed, and, as he supposed, asleep,
Alexander Filmore came to us and attempted to assassinate us, but my
watchfulness was a match for his villainy, and we escaped death at his
hands.
"Finding that this kind of life was unbearable, I appealed to our
neighbors and even to the courts for protection, but my enemy was a
man of great influence, and after many vain attempts, I found that I
could not obtain a hearing; that nothing remained for me to do but to
fight my own way. And I did fight it.
"Out of my father's safe I purloined a sum of money sufficient to
defray our expenses for a while, and then, taking Anita with me, I
fled from the home of my youth. I came first to Fort Laramie, where I
spent a year in the service of a fur-trader.
"My guardian, during that year, sent three men out to kill me, but
they had the tables turned on them, and their bones lay bleaching even
now on Laramie plains.
"During that year my sister met a gay, dashing young ranger, who
hailed to the name of Justin McKenzie, and of course she fell in love
with him. That was natural, as he was handsome, suave and gallant,
and, more than all, reported tolerably well to-do.
"I made inquiries, and found that there was nothing against his moral
character, so I made no objections to his paying his attentions to
Anita.
"But one day a great surprise came.
"On returning from a buffalo-hunt of several days' duration I found my
home deserted, and a letter from Anita stating that she had gone with
McKenzie to Cheyenne to live; they were not married yet, but would be,
soon.
"That aroused the hellish part of my passionate nature. I believed
that McKenzie was leading her a life of dishonor, and it made my blood
boil to even think of it. Death, I swore, should be his reward for
this infidelity, and mounting my horse I set out in hot haste for
Cheyenne.
"But I arrived there too late to accomplish my mission of vengeance.
"I found Anita and took her back to my home, a sad and sorrowing
maiden; McKenzie I could not find; he had heard of my coming, and fled
to escape my avenging hand. But over the head of my weeping sister, I
swore a fearful oath of vengeance, and I have it yet to keep. I
believe there had been some kind of a sham marriage; Anita would never
speak on the subject, so I had to guess at the terrible truth.
"And there's where you made an accursed mess of the whole affair!"
cried McKenzie, stepping into the cabin, and leading Anita forward, by
the hand. "Before-God and man _I acknowledge Anita Harris to be my
legally wedded wife_. Listen, Edward Harris, and I will explain. That
day that you came to Cheyenne in pursuit of me, I'll acknowledge I
committed an error--one that has caused me much trouble since. The
case was this:
"I was the nearest of kin to a rich old fur-trader, who proposed to
leave me all his property at his death: but he was a desperate
woman-hater, and bound me to a promise that I would never marry.
"Tempted by the lust for gold, I yielded, and he drew up a will in my
favor. This was before I met Anita here.
"When we went to Cheyenne, the old man was lying at the point of
death; so I told Anita that we would not be married for a few days,
until we saw how matters were going to shape. If he died, we would be
married secretly, and she would return to your roof until I could get
possession of my inheritance, when we would go to some other part of
the country to live. If he recovered, I would marry her anyway, and
let the old man go to Tophet with his money-bags. I see now how I was
in the wrong.
"Well, that very day, before your arrival, the old man himself pounced
down upon us, and cursed me up hill and down, for my treachery, and
forthwith struck me out from his will. I immediately sent for a
chaplain, and was married to Anita. I then went up to see the old man
and find if I could not effect a compromise with him.
"He told me if I would go with him before Anita and swear that she was
not legally my wife, and that I would never live with her, he would
again alter his will in my favor.
"Knowing that that would make no difference, so far as the law was
concerned, I sent Anita a note apprising her of what was coming, and
stating that she had best return to you until the old man should die,
when I would come for her. Subsequently I went before her in company
with the old man and swore as I had promised to do, and when I
departed she was weeping bitterly, but I naturally supposed it was
sham grief. A month later, on his death-bed, the old trader showed me
the letter I had sent her, and I realized that not only was my little
game up, but that I had cheated myself out of a love that was true. I
was left entirely out of the will, and ever since I have bitterly
cursed the day that tempted me to try to win gold and love at the same
time. Here, Edward Harris," and the young man drew a packet of papers
from inside his pocket, "are two certificates of my marriage, one for
Anita, and one for myself. You see now, that, although mine has been a
grievous error, no dishonor is coupled with your sister's name."
Ned Harris took one of the documents and glanced over it, the
expression on his face softening. A moment later he turned and grasped
McKenzie's hand.
"God bless you, old boy!" he said, huskily. "I am the one who has
erred, and if you have it in your heart to forgive me, try and do so.
I do not expect much quarter in this world, you know. There is Anita;
take her, if she will come to you, and may God shower his eternal
blessings upon you both!"
McKenzie turned around with open arms, and Anita flew to his embrace
with a low glad cry. There was not a dry eye in the room.
There was an impatient surging of the crowd outside; Dick saw that his
men were longing for the sport ahead; so he resumed his story:
"There is not much more to add," he said, after a moment's thought. "I
fled into the Black Hills when the first whispers of gold got afloat,
and chancing upon this valley, I built us a home here, wherein to live
away the rest of our lives.
"In time I organized the band of men you see around me, and took to
the road. Of this my sister knew nothing. The Hills have been my haunt
ever since, and during all this time yon scheming knaves"--pointing to
the prisoners--"have been constantly sending out men to murder me. The
last tool, Hugh Vansevere by name, boldly posted up reward papers in
the most frequented routes, and he went the same way as his
predecessors. Seeing that nothing could be accomplished through aids,
my enemies have at last come out to superintend my butchery in person;
and but for the timely interference of Calamity Jane and Justin
McKenzie, a short time since, I should have ere this been numbered
with the dead. Now, I am inclined to be merciful to only those who
have been merciful to me; therefore, I have decided that Alexander and
Clarence Filmore shall pay the penalty of hanging, for their attempted
crimes. Boys, _string 'em up!_"
So saying, Deadwood Dick stepped without the cabin, and closed the
door behind him.
Redburn also shut down and curtained the windows, to keep out the
horrible sight and sounds.
But, for all this, those inside could not help but hear the pleading
cries of the doomed wretches, the tramp of heavy feet, the hushed
babble of voices, and at last the terrible shout of, "Heave 'o! up
they go!" which signaled the commencement of the victims' journey into
mid-air.
Then there was a long blank pause; not a sound was heard, not a voice
spoke, nor a foot moved. This silence was speedily broken, however, by
two heavy falls, followed almost immediately by the tramp of feet.
Not till all was again quiet did Redburn venture to open the door and
look out. All was dark and still.
The road-agents had gone, and left no sign of their work behind.
When morning dawned, they were seen to have re-camped on the eastern
slope, where the smoke of their camp-fires rose in graceful white
columns through the clear transparent atmosphere.
During the day Dick met Alice Terry, as she was gathering flowers, a
short distance from the cabin.
"Alice--Miss Terry," he said, gravely, "I have come to ask you to be
my wife. I love you, and want you for my own darling. Be mine, Alice,
and I will mend my ways, and settle down to an honest, straightforward
life."
The beautiful girl looked up pityingly.
"No," she said, shaking her head, her tone kind and respectful, "I
cannot love you, and never can be your wife, Mr. Harris."
"You love another?" he interrogated.
She did not answer, but the tell-tale blush that suffused her cheek
did, for her.
"It is Redburn!" he said, positively. "Very well; give him my
congratulations. See, Alice;" here the young road-agent took the crape
mask from his bosom; "I now resume the wearing of this mask. Your
refusal has decided my future. A merry road-agent I have been, and a
merry road-agent I shall die. Now, good-by forever."
* * * * *
On the following morning it was discovered that the road-agents and
their daring leader, together with the no less heroic Calamity Jane,
had left the valley--gone; whither, no one knew.
About a month later, one day when Calamity Jane was watering her horse
at the stream, two miles above Deadwood, the road-agent chief rode out
of the chaparral and joined her.
He was still masked, well armed, and looking every inch a Prince of
the Road.
"Jennie," he said, reining in his steed, "I am lonely and want a
companion to keep me company through life. You have no one but
yourself; our spirits and general temperament agree. Will you marry me
and become my queen?"
"No!" said the girl, haughtily, sternly. "I have had all the _man_ I
care for. We can be friends, Dick; more we can never be!"
"Very well, Jennie; I rec'on it is destined that I shall live single.
At any rate, I'll never take a refusal from another woman. Yes, gal,
we'll be friends, if nothing more."
* * * * *
There is little more to add.
We might write at length, but choose a few words to end this o'er true
romance of life in the Black Hills.
McKenzie and Anita were remarried in Deadwood, and at the same time
Redburn led Alice Terry to the altar, which consummation the "General"
avowed was "more or less of a good thing--consider'bly less o' more
'n' more o' less."
Through eastern lawyers, a settlement of the Harris affairs was
effected, the whole of the property being turned over to Anita,
thereby placing her and Fearless Frank above want for a lifetime.
Therefore they gave up their interest in the Flower Pocket mines to
Redburn and the "General."
Calamity Jane is still in the Hills.
And grim and uncommunicative, there roams through the country of gold
a youth in black, at the head of a bold lawless gang of road-riders,
who, from his unequaled daring, has won and rightly deserves the
name--Deadwood Dick, Prince of the Road.
THE END.
* * * * *
=Edward L. Wheeler's=
=Deadwood Dick Novels=
IN
=Beadle's Half-Dime Library.=
* * * * *
1. Deadwood Dick; or, The Black Rider of the Black Hills.
20. The Double Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick's Defiance.
28. Buffalo Ben; or, Deadwood Dick in Disguise.
35. Wild Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval; or, The Brotherhood of Death.
42. The Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick's Bonanza.
49. Omaha Oll; or, Deadwood Dick in Danger.
75. Deadwood Dick's Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar.
73. Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity Jane, the Heroine of Whoop-Up.
77. Corduroy Charlie; or, The Last Act of Deadwood Dick.
100. Deadwood Dick in Leadville; or, A Strange Stroke for Liberty.
104. Deadwood Dick's Device; or, The Sign of the Double Cross.
109. Deadwood Dick as Detective.
121. Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport; or, The Golden Idol of Mount Rosa.
129. Deadwood Dick's Double; or, The Ghost of Gordon's Gulch.
138. Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Dick's Home Base.
149. A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick's Big Strike.
156. Deadwood Dick of Deadwood; or, The Picked Party.
195. Deadwood Dick's Dream; or, The Rivals of the Road.
201. The Black Hills Jezebel; or, Deadwood Dick's Ward.
205. Deadwood Dick's Doom; or, Calamity-Jane's Last Adventure.
217. Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand; or, Gypsy Jack from Jimtown.
221. Sugar Coated Sam; or, The Black Gowns of Grim Gulch.
The above are for sale by all newsdealers, five cents a copy, or sent
by mail on receipt of six cents each.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,
98 William street, New York.