Read Ebook: Frank Reade Jr. with his new steam horse in the great American desert or The sandy trail of death by Senarens Luis

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Ebook has 1456 lines and 56135 words, and 30 pages

The statement read thus:

"The Mystery of a Marked Bullet."

"A strange incident for which a man is now languishing in Silver City jail awaiting the execution of a sentence of death for murder.

"Six months ago a party of prospectors were coming over the Divide by a rocky foot trail.

"There were twelve in the party, and they were all miners. Some had had fair luck, and others were going home empty-handed.

"Suddenly one of them espied what he believed was a huge buffalo grazing in the canyon far below.

"At once the question of marksmanship came up. There were two expert shots in the party, Bert Mason and Sid Powell.

"A wager was made as to which one could hit the buffalo. It was arranged that both should shoot at the same time, using marked bullets.

"The bullet nearest the buffalo's heart should belong to the winner.

"The trick was quickly made, the stakes put up, and both men fired.

"The supposed buffalo leaped in the air with a wild yell of pain and fell to the ground, while a mule cantered away up the canyon.

"The object had not been a buffalo, but a white man with a fur coat on riding slowly along on a mule.

"Of course Mason and Powell looked at each other with horror.

"'Great beavers, Sid!' gasped Mason, 'we've killed a man!'

"'I swan that's so!' agreed Bert Mason, in horror. 'What'll we do?'

"Of course there was nothing else to do but to climb down and see if the victim was really dead.

"The two horrified prospectors did so.

"They found that the man was dead to a certainty. One bullet had lodged in his brain and the other in his shoulder.

"The bullet in the brain of course was the fatal one, and that bore Bert Mason's mark.

"It looked as if he was the real murderer, if the affair could be called murder. What made the matter worse, however, was the fact that the man was a prominent citizen of Silver City.

"Neither Mason nor Powell dared to go to Silver City after that.

"Both cut sticks and went into the woods to hide. Sid Powell was killed by Indians, but Bert Mason became a road agent.

"He was hunted for years for the murder of Clem Johnson. Suddenly he disappeared and was seen no more in those parts.

"But six months ago a man was arrested in Silver City who answered his description to a jot, and who went by the name of Benjamin Astley.

"He was horrified when accused of being identical with Mason. He was at the altar with a happy bride-elect when arrested. The shock nearly killed the bride, who fainted upon the spot.

"Astley is in a terrible state of mind. He has detectives looking for the real Bert Mason. What makes the case look worse for Astley was the fact that one of the marked bullets was found upon him, and it tallied with the one found in Clem Johnson's skull.

"Astley has been convicted as the murderer and will doubtless hang. Yet the evidence would look to be purely circumstantial, and an innocent man may suffer for the crime."

Frank Reade, Jr., had become deeply interested in the complex case.

"That man is innocent!" he declared, with firm conviction. "It is too bad to hang him upon such evidence."

"Bejabers, I believe yez are roight, sor!" agreed Barney O'Shea.

"I done fink dat man am de victim ob cirkumstances!" declared Pomp, sagely.

"The real murderer Mason is no doubt at large now," cried Frank. "I declare he ought to be found."

The more Frank thought of the matter the better satisfied he became that the ends of justice were being defeated.

"That is just the hot-headed way they do things in the West," he declared. "Upon my word it is awful."

Finally a resolution seized Frank.

One morning he came down to the shop and gave orders to have the Steam Horse made ready for a trip.

Of course the workmen set about it without asking questions.

But the report got abroad and many and various were the surmises.

Finally one of the curious ones ventured to approach Frank point blank.

"Where are you going this time, Mr. Reade? Not to the North Pole?"

"No," replied Frank, crisply. "I am going West to find Bert Mason the true murderer of Clem Johnson. If it is in my power, I mean to clear up the mystery and set this unfortunate Benjamin Astley right once more. I shall hope for success."

THE QUICKSAND.

There was no other motive on Frank's part otherwise than to see justice done.

He was a great lover of fair-play and although Astley and all the parties concerned were strangers to him, he wanted to see the wrong righted.

Barney and Pomp had become fully as interested in the case as he had himself.

"Yo' kin jes' bet we'll stick by yo' Marse Frank!" cried Pomp. "Yo' hab got de right ob it."

"Be jabers, if that Mason was any part av a man, he'd cum forrard an' shoulder the blame hisself," said Barney.

"Ah! but I imagine that he is a big rascal!" declared Frank. "It will be our work to find him."

"Shure we'll do that!"

"I hope so!"

So it happened, that one day the Steam Horse was packed in sections and shipped to a small station on the verge of the Great American Desert.

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