Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road; or, The Black Rider of the Black Hills — John Shaqi
Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road; or, The Black Rider of the Black HillsWheeler, Edward L. (Edward Lytton)
General
Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road; or, The Black Rider of the Black Hills
Wheeler, Edward L. (Edward Lytton)
Dime novels; Fiction; Western stories
"So there are females here, eh?" grunted the elder, musingly. "From
observation I should say that Prince Dick was a comparative stranger
here."
"That is my opinion," groaned Clarence, his thoughts reverting to his
empty stomach. "Did you hear that laugh a moment ago? It was more like
the screech of a lunatic than anything else."
"Yes; he is a young tiger. There is no doubt of that to my mind."
"And we shall have to keep on the alert to take him. He came to the
cabin last night. If he does to-night we can mount him!"
Before night the elder Filmore succeeded in capturing a wild goose
that had strayed down with the stream from somewhere above. This was
killed, dressed and half cooked by a brushwood fire which they
hazarded in a fissure in the hillside whereto they had hidden. This
fowl they almost ravenously devoured, and thus thoroughly satisfied
their appetites. They now felt a great deal better, ready for the work
in hand--of capturing and slaying the dare-devil Deadwood Dick.
As soon as it was dark they crept, like the prowling wolves they were,
down into the valley, and positioned themselves midway between the
cabin and the road-agent's camp, but several yards apart, with a lasso
held above the grass between them, to serve as a "trip-up."
The sky had become overcast with dense black clouds, and the gloom to
the valley was quite impenetrable. From their concealment the two
Filmores could hear Redburn, Alice and the "General" singing up at
the cabin, and it told them to be on their guard, as Dick might now
come along at any moment.
Slowly the minutes dragged by, and both were growing impatient, when
the firm tread of "the Prince" was heard swiftly approaching. Quickly
the lasso was drawn taut. Dick, not dreaming of the trap, came boldly
along, tripped, and went sprawling to the ground. The next instant his
enemies were on him, each with a long murderous knife in hand.
CHAPTER XV.
TO THE RESCUE!
The suddenness of the onslaught prevented Deadwood Dick from raising a
hand to defend himself, and the two strong men piling their combined
weights upon him, had the effect to render him utterly helpless. He
would have yelled to apprise his comrades of his fate, but Alexander
Filmore, ready for the emergency, quickly thrust a cob of wood into
his mouth, and bound it there with strong strings.
The young road-agent was a prisoner.
"Hal ha!" leered the elder Filmore, peering down into the masked
face--"ha! ha! my young eaglet; so I have you at last, have I? After
repeated efforts to get you in my power, I have at last been rewarded
with success, eh? Ha! ha! the terrible scourge of the Black Hills lies
here at my feet, mine to do with as I shall see fit."
"Shall we settle him, and leave him lying here, where his gang can
find him?" interrupted the younger Filmore, who, now that his blood
was up, cared little what he did. "You give him one jab, and I will
guarantee to finish him with the second!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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