"'It ain't water!' he said, quietly.
"'What is it, then?'
"'It's BLOOD! Look!'
"The nearest man gave a sudden start and sank back white as a
sheet.
"For there, gentlemen, on the floor, just before the door, where
the old man had seen the dog hesitate and lift his feet, there!
there!--gentlemen--upon my honor, slowly widened and broadened a
dark red pool of human blood! Stop him! Quick! Stop him, I say!"
There was a blinding flash that lit up the dark woods, and a sharp
report! When we reached the Doctor's side he was holding the
smoking pistol, just discharged, in one hand, while with the other
he was pointing to the rapidly disappearing figure of Juan, our
Mexican vaquero!
"Missed him! by G-d!" said the Doctor. "But did you hear him? Did
you see his livid face as he rose up at the name of blood? Did you
see his guilty conscience in his face. Eh? Why don't you speak?
What are you staring at?"
"Was it the murdered man's ghost, Doctor?" we all panted in one
quick breath.
"Ghost be d--d! No! But in that Mexican vaquero--that cursed Juan
Ramirez!--I saw and shot at his murderer!"
THE HOODLUM BAND
OR
THE BOY CHIEF, THE INFANT POLITICIAN, AND THE PIRATE PRODIGY
BY JACK WHACKAWAY
Author of "The Boy Slaver," "The Immature Incendiary," "The
Precocious Pugilist," etc.
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