Beadle's Pocket Library (no. 139) (1886 09 08)
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The Black Giant. & = - strange girl, for her tones were softer as she added: “The time may come when we will meetagain, and learn to know each other better. But for the present we each have other duties. Yours is to-escape your bitter enemies. Remember my warning, and beware of Dick Weeninx and his band of cruel mountain vultures!” Again she turned and sped away, this time without a backward glance. Hercules followed her, but it was plain that his suspicions were -easier roused than quieted, for he cast an occa- sional frown over his shoulder. The snow-flakes were falling faster and thick- er now, and only a few moments sufficed to earry the strangely matched couple beyond Dainty Lance’s range of vision. Not until they were quite lost to view did he turn toward ‘Hardy Zeph who was beginning to grumble and rub his bruises. “A spook—that’s what she is! I’d ruther fight a bull tribe o’ red-skins then to hev any doin’s with sech outlandish critters!” Dainty Lance smiled, but said nothing. He passed along to where lay the mangled corpse of the man first struck down by the giant negro, but turned away with a shudder. At that moment he was startled by a sharp, astonished cry from the lips of Hardy Zeph. CHAPTER II. AT DEATH'S PORTALS, - AcTUATED probably by the same feeling of curiosity that led Dainty Lance to examine the body of the man first slain by the giant negro, Hardy Zeph descended inte the sink once more, and brushing the snow from the face of the per- son slain by His bullet, uttered the sharp cry that so startled his comrade. A swift gesture decided Dainty Lance, and plowing his way down the steep slope, he soon stood beside Hardy Zeph. “You kin see fer yourself. That ugly mug speak; plainer nor words. It gives a good reason for what the gal-spook said ‘bout them men iiuntin’ our lives.” An ugly, crime-lined and sin-hardened face looked up at them through the thin vail of scattered snow flakes; a face that Dainty Lance immediately recognized, and one that made the bitter attack upon them sufficiently clear. Thdse who may have followed the varying fortunes of our boy heroes thus far, will remem ber that after the tragic death of Panther Paul, and the departure of Handsome Hal with his strangely recovered wife, the young trappers returned to their snug retreat, the ‘ dug-out” in the hillside. Time rolled on, and the winter, an unusually mild one, bad more than half-spent itself, when three strangers made their appearance in pitia- ble plight They claimed to be honest trappers, who had been attacked. by Indians, they alone escaping out of more than a dozen stout men, The boys never doubted the truth of their story, for the men had that half-famished, wolf- ish look that comes only of great peril and long privation. Food was placed before them, and they ate . ravenously, their hungry eyes roving around them, and making mental notes of all they saw. Neither Dainty Lance nor Hardy Zeph were blind, and tha‘ night then took turns in keeping watch over their rough guests, But to all seem- ing, this precaution was superfluous. Stuffed to repletion with hearty food, worn and weary after their forced journey, the three strangers slept until the sun was high up in the heavens. Piardly Zeph cooked them breakfast, and then the man who appeared to be the leading spirit of the trio, began to expose his hand. The dug out was unusually well stocked with firearms, knives and ammunition, the young trappers having collected those once used by Panther Paul and his men. Ford—which was the name given by the burly spokesman—demanded rather than asked for an outfit of these superfluous weapons, and was quietly denied by Dainty Lance. ‘“Food and blankets you may have, all you choose to carry, but I don’t like your looks well enough to trust you with firearms. In less than a month, by steady tramping, you can reach the settlements. Take enough meat for that length of time, a pound of powder and some lead. More than that you’ll not get here.” The fellow appeared cowed by this sharp speech, and proposed that they form a partner- ship for the winter trapping. Of course this was refused, and one word led to another until, in a fair fist-fight, Dainty Lance soundly thrashed the insolent fellow. Hardy Zeph, with a cocked revolver in each hand, keeping the others from interfering until the burly trapper was forced to admit that he had had enough. ’ In sullen silence the three roughs accepted what was given to thom, and pursued their way southward, dogged by Hardy Zeph until they were many miles distant from the dug-out. For a long time the young trappers kept a wary watch, expecting to hear more of their ugly guests, but a month or more had elapsed since Dainty Lance administered that lesson without bringing the expected visit. The weather gave unmistakable evidence of a change for the warse, and believing that the long-expected snow-blockade was now at hand, the young trappers set out on this afternoon to’ gather up their scattered traps. It was while a engaged that they were assailed from am- us And now, in the face of the dead man, they recognized one of the trio who had been dis- missed from the dug-out, over a month before, The faces of the other two dead men were ex- amined, but they were those of strangers. “Then there’s two more o’ the critters skulk- in’ round, anyway,” muttered Hardy Zeph, an ugly circle surrounding hislips. ‘‘ Mebbe the gal- spook was right. A dozen an’ more, she said. mg odds—an’ we ain’t got no Sure Death to help us fight our way through now.” ‘‘Surer death than that negro and his club, I never want to see,” said Dainty Lance, turning with a shudder from the body hurled across the sink by that terrible weapons. ‘‘ But we are losing valuable time. They said they were wait- ing for us by the dug-out. It will be impolite to keep them longer in suspense,” 2
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