Wild Bills Last Trail | Page 2

to burn with almost feverish fire as he gazed in the
direction the scouts had taken.

"So! He remembers Abilene, does he?"
And the tone of the young man was low and fierce us an angered
serpent's hiss.
"And he thinks his time is near. So do I. But he shall not die in a second,
as his victim did, I would prolong his agonies for years, if every hour
was like a living death; a speechless misery. Let him go with Sam
Chichester and his crowd. The avenger will be close at hand! His
Truth-Teller will lie when he most depends on it. For I--I have sworn
that he shall go where he has sent so many victims; go, like them all,
unprepared, but not unwarned. No, he thinks that death is near; I'll
freeze the thought to his very soul! He is on the death-trail now? With
me rests when and where it shall end."
The face of the young man was almost fiendish in its expression as he
spoke. It seemed as if his heart was the concentration of hate and a fell
desire for revenge.
He strode along the streets swiftly, and, glancing in at the saloon which
the two men had entered, paused one second, with his right hand thrust
within his vest, as if clutching a weapon, and debating in his mind
whether or not to use it.
A second only he paused, and then muttering, "It is not time yet," he
passed on.
"He went a little way up the same street and entered a German
restaurant. Throwing himself heavily on a seat, he said:
"Give me a steak, quick. I'm hungry and dry. Give me a bottle of the
best brandy in your house."
"We've got der steak, und pread, und peer, und Rhein wine, but no
prandy," said the German, who kept the place.
"Cook the steak in a hurry, and send for some brandy then!" cried the
young man, throwing down a golden eagle. "Your beer and wine are

like dishwater to me. I want fire--fire in my veins now."
"Dunder and blixen! I shouldn't dink as you wus want much more fire
as dere is in your eyes, young fellow. But I send for your prandy."
The young man threw one glance around the room to see if he were the
only occupant.
There was another person there, one who had evidently just come in, a
traveler, judging by a good-sized valise that was on the floor beside his
chair. This person looked young, for the face, or as much of it as was
not hidden by a very full black beard, was fair and smooth as that of a
woman; while the hair which shaded his white brow was dark as night,
soft and glossy as silk, hanging on short, curling masses about his face
and neck.
He was dressed rather better than the usual run of travelers; in a good
black broad-cloth suit--wore a heavy gold watch-chain, had on a fine
linen shirt, with a diamond pin in the bosom, and appeared to feel quite
satisfied with himself, from the cool and easy manner in which he gave
his orders for a good, substantial meal, in a voice rather low and
musical for one of his apparent age.
The last comer eyed this person very closely, and a smile almost, like
contempt rose on his face, when the dark-eyed stranger called for claret
wine, or if they had not that, for a cup of tea.
But his own strong drink was now brought in, and pouring out a
glassful of undiluted brandy he drank it down and muttered:
"That's the stuff! It will keep up the fire. My veins would stiffen
without it. It has carried me so far, and it must to the end. Then--no
matter!"
The stranger or traveler looked as if wondering that the young man
could take such a fearful dose of fiery liquor, and the wonder must have
increased when a second glassful was drained before the food was on
the table.

But the latter came in now, and the traveler and the young man with
auburn hair, at separate tables, were apparently too busy in disposing of
the eatables to take any further notice of each other.
When the first had finished, he took a roll of cigarettes from one of his
pockets, selected one, took a match from a silver box, drawn from the
same pocket, and lighting his cigarette, threw a cloud of smoke above
his head.
The second, pouring out his third glass of brandy, sipped it quietly--the
first two glasses having evidently supplied the fire he craved so
fiercely.
The traveler, as we may call him, for want of any other knowledge,
now rose, and as if impelled by natural