Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 1121) (1902 01)
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ny RES a nt an 2ST Il F la Oopyricut, 1877, sy Beanie & Apams No. 1421. Yellowstone Jack: Trappers of the Enchanted Ground. BADGER. Published Every Month. BY JOSEPH E. CHAPTER L. THE POUDEREE. © T's no use—in less’n three shakes we'll ketch it, ot an’ heavy!” “But, Harris, we must reach the shelter of the frocks. Look yonder—’tis a hurricane! It will be death to meet it here, unprotected. Look beyond the point—see! the trees uprooted, the very rocks tarried like feathers before, the blast! On--whip up éhere—it’s life or death now, boys!” “Mules is poor critters to buck a @race, boss—but hev it so, though I be critters head in, like a corral, sorter. »inst the wind in vise ye to turn Thar’ll be “weve STRUCK A FAT STREAK IN HYAR. et ae Pag Co OOOO ~ ee Mi. J. AVES A CO., Publishers (JAMES SULLIVAN, PRropRixtror), 379 Pearl Street, New York. the devil an’ all to pay when the animiles feel t fust lick—they’ll staz 3, Shore!” “Too late—we haven’t ame—our only chance is the rocks yonder. Maynard—look to the democrat | —push on ahead and save the girls—quick!” ith hoarse shouts, angry curses and impreca- tions, mingled with and given force by the stinging “ blacksnake,” the sharp crack of which echoed from side to side 0? Shicha-chetish* pass, the teamsters urged on their snorting, terrified mules, pausing not | to pick the smoothest way, but bounding recklessly | over the bowlders that thickly strewed. the levei bottom. Of th upc six vehicles, five were huge, clumsy, deep- | bedded wagons—true “ prairie schooners *—heavily loader’, drawn each by six stout mules. Their drive, 4, each bestriding his ‘‘near-wheeler,” plied tongue, spurs and whip withcut cessation. Other men ran alongside, flogging the bewildered animals pricking than with knives until their sides and haunches wure washed with blood * Literally, ** Bad Wolf,” though why so called, I do not know = | \With its base pointing nearly due we PRLT A TRAP FER A WEEK RUNNDW’ AIN'T January, 1 Vol, XLV. eee ee eee ——— PD eo BD) CENTS. Year. The sixth vehicle—that which the “boss” called a “‘democrat”—was a light fouxw spring wagon, with oieloth cover, drawn by twa stylish horses. The driver, a fiery-crested littie f low, evidently had his hands full, though manf struggling to bring the maddened an'mals unde wonted control. The unusual noise and confusim had so alarmed them that the utmost endeavors @ Terence M’Carthy only served to keep their hea® directed toward the overhanging cliff beyond, Shicha-chetish : ; ight almost a well be termed, ck intic letter pon etth hand, divided by nearly one hundred feot of chalizy soil, thickly strewn with /bowlders of various sigem and shapes that, had fallen from ‘the sides of fim pass, rose abruptly anon, in @ Rae ries of gigantic ste ry enus. The first ands larkest step was sider: over a hundred feet i hight, clear-cut « erpendicular. smooth and regular that have scaled itpunléss aided by the t zrowth of parasite pi ints that "4 i : » of the chalky roG Above this rose another and another step, until ; i} 7 Lae Walis i! io © = TO BE SNERZED ag”
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Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. ©p where a dense growth of scrubby pines, cedars ‘and pinons crowned the ridge. The base of the Y ’ f§ some two miles in length; ihe arms a trifle longer. e@ lower branch—or the one tending to the north- west—was the one along which the emigrants » tad wound. An hour previously, the day had been all that is ‘expected of latter eae; clear, warm, and inspirit- fhe. But there came a sudden change. The sky darkened, the sunshine assumed a blood-red tinge, the airsuddenly died away to almost suffocating still- ess. Men and cattle felt oppressed. They breathed _ With difficulty. Their skins were dry and parchec. - ‘the searing atmosphere prevented perspiration. Tnstead of being among the mountains, where their ‘earning gaze could even then rest upon masses of doling snow, they seemed to be in the midst of a ' Wesert, beneath the simoom’s withering breath. , Hob Farris, an old trapper who had been picked by the way, wounded, almost starving, though he | ’ managed to escape with his scalp from the “4 kfeet who had robbed him of animals, traps €@ peltries, told John Warren that he believed a mu—the terrible poudereet—was brewing. The de, Chris Camp, scoffed at this idea. A snow- rm in summer—bah! * Nobody but a fool—or wuss—’d want.us to cam ‘hyar, whar the reds, ef so be they’re nigh to han’, ked bag us easy ’s fallin’ off alog. They ked craw] | op ‘ithin forty foot o’ us, unseen—an’ squash us like | fam'le-bugs onder a wagon-wheel by rollin’ rocks “flown on us from up thar. You say you're a fri’nd, @d man—you talk more like one o' them cussed white Injuns!”’ Warren checked the quarrel that threatened to gid in bloodshed, by swearing he would shoot the mon who first struck a blow, and then the train “Zowly,moved on. It was but natural that Camp #iould be believed before Harris, since he had been * with the train from Council Bluffs,-while the other | vas a stranger. But as the party entered the main portion of the mss, the sky grew more and more threatening. Wie oppressive heat subsided. Instead, came an icy- sold current that chilled man and beast to the bone, Pin fitful gusts increased in power and frequency, atrixing the emig: fairly in the face, almost carry- Zt a \ he @ynem from their feet, The sun was hidden be- mibdull feaden clouds. Far away, just above the western horizon, could be seen a bla lond, rapid Peay increasing in size. Still Camp declared that they | seould reach the mouth of the pass in time. , Upon the open ground, even if they had not time to reach BecurTe sheltar, (‘hey would be safer than in the nar- w canon where the burricane would be doubled in i Siforce by the bign walls. ct The cloud advanced with frightful rapidity. Then @aine a dull, rumbling noise that resembled the thun- ders of a distant cataract, ever and anovw breaking | into prolouged echoes like the roll of thunder. The whirling gusts of wind blended into one steady blast, > eold as the breath of an iceberg, seeming to pierce | -» the very marrow—to cut the sensitive flesh Vike a | _ keen knife. Footmen were prostrated—horses and | mules staggered back—the canvas tilts of the wagons wore torn into shreds. Then came an abrupt lull. This blast was but the avant courier of the hurricane—of the pouderce. And this interval were spoken the words that head this ater, "The mouth of the pass was now in full view, scarce | ; a quarter of a mile distant. Through it could be dis- | , shed the abrupt spur of another mountain | & , risiitg almost perpendicularly from the level. | Under lee of this cli t 1e emigrants would be com- paratively well sheltered from the storm. The first force of the pouderee struck the projecting | mass of verdure-clad rock. The deep, sullen warning the hurricane abruptly changed its note—instead ere now came the sharp, electric reverberations of @ prolonged roll of musketry. The stiff, stubborn 3 upon the mountain side were lashed furiously | Ft and fro, then either broken short off or else torn aa up by the roots and carried far from their birthplace m the mighty breath of the storm demon, and rewn thickly over the piain. Huge bowlders were | wrested from, their repose and sent thundering | adown the sloping mountiin side and hurled bodily ever the precipice. Clouds of dust, leaves and bro- ken branches filled the air,as though seeking to hide this dread desolation from the eyés of man. ze Then thy cloud deepened—the mountain spur '\) faded from view—the vail was no longer of dust. It | was of snow, of sleet and ragged hailstones. A moment later, and the 7ewderece swallowed up the emigrants. Its effects, though instantaneous, must be desc. ibed in detail. Frank Maynard, the young man whom John War- ten had bidden look to the safety of those occupying the “\ democrat,” was a little in advance, mounted upon a stout herse, The blast struck him, crushing Hoth horse and rider to the earth with as little re- sistance as a blade of grass gives to the foot that rests upon it! a Tae occupants of the democrat were prostrated | pon the seats, wad the wind buyst ihe stout oilskin | is. aeine from their fastenings. The one upon the | t side gave way first, and to this fuet is probably ‘ owed what followed, Instead of being upset, the | ve pkg oe was lifted up and whirled hali-way around,” _ #0 that it pressed firmly against the rock wall of the | Se The horses were thrown from their feet at the t, and half-rolled, half-drazged over and over, until their heads were pointing in the di- - -gection of the back trail. The foremost wagon was Sar _ same momen served even worse. The the first shock, whirled i : ; | | |'pierce the cloud of whirling snow. | a sudden change. larger than abruptly to the right, ‘cramping ’ the wagon as it turned broadside to the hurricane, lifting a wheel clear off the ground. And thus the huge mass was prostrated. Even above the roar of the tornado, the crashing of wood, there’ arose a shriek of agony. Somebody —at least one human being had been stricken down | by the falling wagon. Mules, horses and cattle were overthrown. Men were carried from their feet and then dashed vio- lently to the ground or against the jagged bowlders, yards away. Fragments of rock began to thunder down the series of gigantic steps, threatening the unfortunate emigrants with new peril. Snow and sleet and hailstones—the latter rough and ragged, as though compescd of several smaller ones, frozen together as they came in contact, form- | ing masses of ice large as a man’s clenched fist*— were driven with frightful force. inevitable. Death seemed | Fortunate indeed was it that these masses of ice | were only carried upon the front of the tornado. A | single moment—then there came a brief lull; the lull | before the tornado. Yet in that single moment the bewildered horses | that were attached to the democrat struggled to their feet, bruised and bleeding, half-mad. The sud- den start dragged Terence M’Carthy forcibly from the seat upon which he was lying, even in that dire confusion tightly clutching the reins. He was hurled | headlong beneath the fore wheets. Then the fierce wind again howled through the sass with renewed vigor. It struck the democrat, Pesaro the light vehicle against the trembling .ni- mals’ haunches. With a mad scream in unison, they bounded forward, by what seemed a miracle, pass- ing over the struggling pile of mules attached to the overturned wagon, and then disappeared in the stomn. Only one human eye had seen them dash _ by. Frank Maynard had been hurled from the saddle, and thus escaped being crushed beneath his falling horse. He managed to scramble to his feet during the momentary lull. It was more than the love of lire taat inspired him, He was thinking of others— or rather of another—of Minnie Warren. Wiih-a desperate wrench he half-lifted his con- fused animal erect, and leaped into the saddle as he saw t ‘rat and its priceless freight dash past him then,as the renewed blast struck him, he plin is spurs more deep into his horse’s flanks, and darted forward, All this transpired with the rapidity of thought Scarce ten seconds had elapsed from the first strik ing of the poudere till the strange chase was bidden in the storm-cloud of snow and hail, of twisted boughs and shattered rock... It was a wild, reckless chase—one that no really sane man could have attempted with any hopes of success. Yet Maynard never once gave thought to his own danger. He only knew that his more than life was threatened with death, and he plied spurs and bridle-reins, hoarsely shouting to his horse, that, mad with terror, plunged blindly forward, stumbling over bowlders and limbs of trees, slipping upon the hailstones, yet, through some strange prov- activity nor the skill of its rider that avoided a fall, where to fall would be death. Yet a gleam of reason returned to Maynard in time to prevent a fatal error. As they neared the spot where the arms of the Y merged into the main stem, the horse naturally hugged the right-hand wall; fog that was the course he had followed in coming—he was upon the back track. Maynard glanced down. He saw that the tracks left. by the democrat in the snow and hailstones bore to the left. Though so rapidly filling up, there could be no doubt of this. And he wrenched his animal’s head around toward the upper pass. The horse stumbled and fell to its knees. But the taut rein lifted him forcibly, and the next moment he plunged into the unknown pass. Whither did it lead? What would be the ending of this mad, reckless chase? Thé pass was very much like the one already de- seribéd, excepting that it was on a smaller scale. The width of level ground between the towering steps or plateaus, was barely fifty feet, and fully one-half of this was barred and choked up by the fracments of soft rock that had fallen from the cliffs. Yet, through this narrow pomety the mad- dened horses had evidently carried the light spring wagon with its precious freight, for now, despite the driving snowstorm, Maynard could plainly distin- guish the trdil—he even faneied he could hear the thunder of iron-shod hoofs béfore him through the deafening clamor of the raging tornado. And with hopes reviving in his bosom he urged on his terrified animal. He did not feel the icy breath of the pou- dereé, thouch it was fast stiffening his every limb. He had thought only of his loved one and her peril. He leaned impatiently forward and sought to 4 He could not fairly distinguish the towering cliffs that were upon either hand. In front there seemed nothing Mat driving snow and clattering hailstones, Then came Though the force ot the wind seemed to increase, if anything, the hail ceased and the snowflakes became fewer. A hoarse, inarticulate: cry broke from Maynard’s lips. He could now distinguish the sleet-coated * A party was caught in a similar hailstorm while cutting hay on the ities prairies, in °62, We saved ourselves by crawling beneath the half-loaded wag- on. Two of vur horses were killed by the A man and his horse were found dead; his fractured. After the storm, we picked up larg @ man’s clenched fist.—AuTHoR. idence keeping its feet. Surely ‘twas neither its own | wagon. The terrified horses were still fleeing at speed, aided, rather than retarded, by the dem At times a fierce gust of wind would hurl the vehicle fairly against their haunches. They could not have paused in their mad career, while the tornado urged them on,and keep their feet. To fall would be almost certain destruction. The back curtains were driven in by the force of the wind. Maynard could just distinguish the light pene ofa woman. It was the dress worn by Ada dixon. Minnie—where was she? He could see nothing of her. Had she been thrown out during the mad race? Had he passed her unseen along the trail? A groan of heartrending agony burst from May- nard’s lips as the thought struck ima. A vision of her mangled body lying among thr cruel, jagged bowl- ders danced before his eyes. It seemed so real, that he reeled in his saddle—the rein dropped from his benumbed hand—and as his horse siumbled, the ro man was cast forward upon the animal's neck. Mechanically clutching the thick mane, Ma: slipped back in thu saddle as his horse arose, the mad race re on. o ‘Help! for the love Gf God! Frank, save—” The words came indistinctly to his ear, and hesay * Ada slightly lift her head: but then a severe joll again cast her beneath the seat. The appeal thoroughly aroused Maynard, He saw that at least one life depended upon bis exer. tions, With a cry of encouragement he urged hin’ horse on. A ray of hope flashed upon him, He saw that tk pass ended only a few hundred yards ahead. He could distinguish a low line of something dark—it nin be bushes, growing upon the open grouna be+ yond. Then a fierce blast of wind drives the snow-cloud aside. A cry of horror bursts from hislips. Hedvaws his knife and mercilessly pricks his horse, Death— a horrible death yawns before the runaways and their helpless, freight. The bushes are’ treé-téps, whose trunks are hidden from view! They growin & ravine, or upon the side of fathomless canon. And the terror-blinded anh lunge furiously to- ward it! He thrusts his knife de¢ is horse's hip, and leaves it rankling int ( iws his revol ver. The horse shrieks with pain, but an do no more, where he i eady doing hi § The haiamer falls. The cap ex] but no re- port i llows. And the mad animals plunge on to their death! CHAPTER II. “BIRDS OF A FEATHER.” “Tum dogs are beginning to growl, are they! Let them dare show their teeth to me, and the devil will have a feast before his time! Chief I am and chief I will be; enough for them that.I lead the v ay.” These words were uttered sdtto voce by ar an who stood leaning carelessly against the trunk of a cot- tonwood tree, bis dark eyesroving over the scene be- fore him, one hand instinctively caressing the polish- ed butt of a revolver. There was nothing remarkab.e about this person- age, if his eyes be excepted. They were large, un- usually brilliant, of a jetty b.ackness. At times lan- guid, sleepy, they could fill with a mesmeric fire owerful enough to subdre the rising passions of a sehen wild beast; at such times the twin orbs seem- ed to pierce one througs and through, to read one’s inmost thoughts, to awe the most reckless spirit. He was neither Landsome nor ugly, in face; of medium size, though rather broad-shouldered. His frame was one that would not attract a second gla in a crowd, yet a connoisseur would have dec this man possessed of extraordinary strength and ac- tivity. Before nim, stretched at ease upon the greensward in the shade cast by a group of young cottonwoods, were nearly a score of men. Their masks of shaggy, iJ-kempt hair and beard more than their color or dress, proclaimed these men of Anglo-Saxon lin . Their garb partook more of the sayage—ouly no im dian could curse and blaspheme So fluently. One of them, a squat, red-haired Caliban, seemed especially discontented, and his voice was louder than he probably intended, as he uttered the words: “T say it’s too durned thin! What'd he promise” us? Money, hosses, mules, goods—lots 0” it, is it? Jest whar it war afo’ we started, is it? .Our’n? Not much! It’s 4is. We hed the chaince las’ night—we hey the chaince now ; why don’t he let us bounce “em? Mebbe he wants red-skins to git in ahead o’ us. Who és he, anyhow Kin anybody—” “Cheese it, Firetop—look yender!” hastily tered one of the discontented Villain’s comrades, Whar from the spot. Firetop mance up, and then his brilliant erest dropped, A revolver muzzle Was siaring hin the face, held by the man who still leaned cat against the tree-trunk, The magnetic viack eye shone like a coal of fire above the polished tube. and held the gaze of the discontent, surely a8 the diamond orbs of a rattlesnake enchain the flutter “7 ean tell you, Sandy Ben—your master, 408! give ye time to draw our hands—I’'ll not warn ye twice. There—now as ” ounce of: Whose fault ‘a ly turning a dirty gray, as he quickly rolled away ~ } . + } ’ XO ! pie | bi Be ny ’ f : f 4 ti ae: \4 : : ten: { phy 0 os * aa fe? os 1 Bey ¢ | 4 I ay “
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Pi ; ) i 1s , ‘ iy ~ q war: Tr aoa sae = se ST ough 7 ‘ey pent b i 4 4 ing *’ was completed, they would have little time for ~~ aught else. he little party met with extraordinary success. Scarce a trap was set that did not nightly contain # beaver or an otter. And though spring furs, being lighter, are less in pe than the winter pelts, the adventurers were in high glee as they calculated the profits of the trip. How many pleasures—what glort- ous drunks—how many nights of delirioys gaming could be had with their earnings! Yet all was not serene. There was something about them that they could not understand. Dw the past two weeks they had caught occasio glimpses of a woman—of what appeared to be a mar velously beautiful and graceful girl. But coulda human being appear and vanish so abruptly, so teriously? Was it not—and those bold heart:, Ww would have faced scores of bloodthirsty enemies with- out flinching a hair’s-breadth, drew close~ together ag they 1ead the same suspicion in each other's eyes— was it not rather @ spirit ? A trapper is nothing, if not superstitious, Then came the murder of their comrade. He had been shot with an arrow, then sealped. But the fatal weapon had been carefully removed from {he wound The banks of the stream bore no impression of hw mav feet, save those of the unfcrtunaie trapper, though the body lay in open ground, a score or more yards from the water. Could a warrior have passed over that sward of soft young grass without leaving atrail? Yet those keen-eyed men, their perception sharpened by a burning thirst for revenge, Could dig- cover nothing. dezvoused at a given point before venturing into tha” valley where they made their head-quarters, lest amy) ambush should have been laid there to cut them one by one as they returned from visiting th, irtraps. Yellowstone Jack peered cautiously from his overt behind the point of rocks that barred from vic w the upper end of the romantic little valley, or cvl de-sae, to speak more correctly, that served as their re 1 cat. A deadly fire kindled in his blue eyes as he Lastily withdrew his head. “The varmints is sneakin’ down this way—ready, * An Indian term equivalent to ? s a4 rete Lara 7 i Pe =? tee : Fa iat = SUL chey continued their rounds, but always ren- ee ‘ = ra
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B - ees!” he gritted, dravring the stout-bladed butcher-knife from his belt, aad preparing for a for- ward leap. Only a few yards off two dusky, shining-skinned forms glided crouchingly along through the scattered shrubbery. They were tidians—the same, beyond a doubt, who had ma#e the trail that sharp-eyed Brin- dle Joe detected. . Tbe trappers had only one tliought. Vengeance | for their murdered comrade waist within their grasp. ié was enough that these intruders were red-men. They could not be friends. “ae as he jenped upon the foremosi: savage with the un- a rapa watched for the uncouscious victim to pass eath its perch. There was little or no struggle. Quick and deadly as tha lightning’s flash, Yellowstone buried his knife Phaft-deep in the savage’s heaving chest, and then > bore him heavily backward, stifling in his throat the oy) rang out in all its flerce agony’. t rible shudder, the rizid limber relaxed. the red-man had fled. *Whoo-ccp!” uttered Yellowstone, but in a sub- dued tone, as he turned around just in time to see Brindle Joe arise from the corpse of his antagonist. The spirit of fee how we make our words good—though his skelp was wuth a dozen sech pelts es these/”’ “ Oarrai /” you big varmints don’t give alittle man fair show-——you take ali the fun, like boys!’ grumbled it. the little Mexican, Chavez. bien “Better tuck next time, babby, x fer drawin’ lots. Wy) * gee ef all’s right wi’'—” “*. “Ge-thunder! look yender!"’ muttered Brindle Joe fing across the valley, his deeply-bronzed anc grotesquely-freckled face—from which his nom de : was derived—turning a shade lighter. The—the spirit !’’ breathed Yellowstone, in a tone of awe. n } Upon a slender point of rock that jutted out from the face of the almost perpendicular cliff, stood a +ike figure, clearly outlined against the gray rocks. The ficure of a woman, or rather that of a gir just budding into womanhood. Her features could not be distinguished clearly, though the awe- * btricken trappers could see that her skin was dusky, ) folive tinted; her hair, flocting free in the light breeze, was jetty black. Her garb was plain, unornament- 6d, even rude, seemingly composed of skins with the still on, her arms bare to the shoulder.. In one Dae d she held a white bow; the other was just a at ee te an arrow from the quiver at her back, IN ai en the bow was bent until the feathered shaft = fairly brushed her ear, and when the string relaxed, »* ‘the missile hurtled through the air, quivering deep in ground several yards behind the trappers, as she ‘ittered, in a clear, musical voice, speaking the Kain- ‘na-Blacktoot dialect: , “TL have warned you—beware!’’ *Thar's somethin’ fastened on the arrer-head,” Yellowstone Jatk, closely followed by his con- fades, ran to the spot where the arrow had fallen, by: yand as the young trapper pulled it from its earthen ‘sheath, he detected a strip of buck-skin wound round ‘the shaft: Uniloosening this, he eagerly gazed upon the small, curious symbols portrayed in red upon the white skin. Then the puzzled trapper turned to » Brindle Joo, That worthy was staring in open-mouth- ed astonishment, pointing toward the cliff. figure had vanished. *l knowed ‘twas a spook—reckon we'd better ckachee, afore wuss’ comes on ‘t,” he muttered, a) ely. Wie »” ‘*Yender comes the boys—mebbe they've see'd it, ‘ nn As Yellowstone Jack spoke, the other two trap- came up the valley, their faces wearing a strange, uneasy expression. It was plain that they _ too had seen the spirit, and knew not how to account _ for it. , tere Dy! see the thing go?”’ faltered Hoosier, glancing "nervously around, as though half-expecting to be- hold the mysterious being suddenly reappear at his W. ~ “No—how was it?” Yellowstone asked. “Jest nat’ally riz an’ flew up to the top thar—an’ isin soe, a mountain goat couldn’t find toe-holt Whar she went,’ uneasily replied the Hoosier. ‘She ni made a few signs, like she wanted to do some- ’ an’ then faded away like smoke.” “Treckomwshe wanted us to mind what she says on thia bit o’ hide—look at it. Mebbe you kin make ' gomethin’ out o’ it—I cain't.” “It’s ‘ritin’—I_ know that much,” slowly replied - Heely Hank. ‘I’ve kerried more’n one bit o’ sech ’ like, what, Old Sam ‘slung off, when we war skrim- pak ‘ wi’ the Greasers fer Texas. But I cain’t read sign—it's a blind trail to me.” old man was powerful on them things, but ow I never was no gre’t shakes at it,” feebly muttered Hoosier. : _ “Br ‘twas beaver now, or red-skin—but never mind. Ill keep it anyhow. Don't reckon it kin hurt a feller, ef ’t did come from a sperit. I don’t reckon she means us any bad, or she'd ‘a’ sent this arrer a leetle closter. It’s Blackfoot, though—them ‘ally the kind we mountainee men call hep a » The | } Sock it to’em, boys!’ gritted Yellowstone Jack, | erring aim of a jurking carcajou who for hours has | if it takes my last ante, Yallerstone Jack sais it— which is me/” The men stared at him in mute amazement, They could not understand this kind of courage, Not one among them but could have faced death without a | tremor, but this was different, What could skill or brute courage avail against a spook—a spirit? “Mebbe she is a spook—I don’t know. They say there is sech things in these parts. But I b’lieve she’s | a good one, then. I don’t think she’d do a feller any real hurt, Anyhow, I’m goin’ to try it on: Ef she’s human, she’s bound to leave some sort o’ trail ahind her, an’ I kin find it by goin’ over the ridge, I reckon. You fellers kin stay here; ef I don’t come back—”’ “kit you're Lound to go, Yallerstone, 'm wi’ ye. Brindle Joe mayn’t be much a’count, but he don’t go back on a pardner,” quietly said the trapper, though | his cheek was still pale. convulsive death-shriek that otherwise would have | Then—with one hor- | “T reckon Fatty Smith ’d grin now, ef he could on’y | “We'll go in a caboodle, then,’ added Heely Hank. | saddle as his tortured horse plunged blindly fon 4 and into the boiling, bubbling caldron. And the next f moment the younger being feorret er Teoh, A sullen splask-=.. \4n¢ Sut. 4 CHAPTER lv. i A PRIENDLY ENEMY. ; A ory of horror broke from the lips of Frank Maynard as the faithless pistol failed him. A cloud seemed to pass before his eyes, Fora moment it seemed as though he would have fallen from tha ward, The terrified animals that were attached to the | democrat still dashed on, each bound earrying them hy * Five mountain men ’d orter be a match for the | devil hisself, let alone a teenty spook like that.” ** Le’s pitch this car’on into the bresh, then. | his Thar | ain't time to clean up the muss, but I don’t reckon | any one ‘ll come this way afore we git back,” ob- | served Yellowstone Jack, setting the example him- self, A few moments later the little party had passed out of the valley, reaching a point where the south- | click upon the tube. ern ridge might be scaled by an active, quick-eyed, | sure-footed man, and then they peered curiously | down into the adjoining valley. In this valley va had first noticed the spirit, who had as suddenly disappeared, without leaving any | trace behind her, had vanished as completely and Thar wasn't time | But see—lift thar ha’r, while I go | mysteriously as though she had dissolved into thin air. The surroundings, too, were well calculated to arousé the superstition of the trappers. This valley had a reputation second only to that- popularly known among them as the ‘ Devil’s Kitchen,” near Eustis Lake, Many an unlucky trapper had jour- neyed thither to “‘1nake medicine” at the Boiling Springs: many a fabulous tale,was solemnly told of the strange sights witnessed, of the maddening temptations resisted, of the marrow-curdling com- bats with spirits, spooks, goblins, and even with the master of evil himself. Implicit belief in these wild legends and traditions is a genuine mountain man’s religion—too frequently his only one. "T'would be a bold man who would openly doubt these marvels, “*T cain’t see any livin’ critter, onless *t mought be them black-tail,’’ muttered Yellowstone Jack. © ** Look beyond the white mound, yender—I kin see somethin’—looks like a two-legged critter squattin’ in the shade o’ that bush-pine,” added Brindle Joe. *T cain’t match eyes wi’ you, pard—on’y wish ’t I could. But ef you say so, I reckon it’s thar. Come— we kin git down under kiver o’ this bresh easy enough, an’ then creep up ahind the mound.” Now, that they had fairly entered upon the adven- || ture, not one) of the party betrayed any. hesitation.’ | Yellowstone Jack ted the way, the others close at his heels. Nor did they neglect any of their usual precautions, but kept a keen look-out in every di- rection, pot knowing what moment might bring a seore of vengeful, bloodthirsty enemies upon them. The bottom of the valley was almost devoid of living vegetation, All around were scattered little mounds and miniature hills, of a dirty, ashen-gray hue, that afforded the trappers sufficient cover, thoroughly skilled as they were in the art of stalk- ing. Here and there tiny jets of foul-smelling vapor issued from the cracked surface, A dull, subdued rumbling sound came from beneath their feet, and more than once the crust seemed to shake beneath their stealthy footfalls. Cautiously Yellowstone Jack skirted the curious; truncated cone, that seemed composed of a dirty soda, and peered around the base of a broken column. A little cry of wonder broke from his lips. He saw two strange figures running swiftly toward him, One was undoubtedly the spirit they had seen upon the face of the cliff. The other appeared to be an old woman, wild and weird-looking, her long snow-white hair floating behind her, yher limbs only-partially protected by rudely-stitched skins. The two strange beings ran swiftly on until nearly opposite the trappers. Then they paused upon the brink of a iarge boiling spring, which, in past ages, had thrown up a calcareous deposit, forming a “curb” nearly ten feet above. the level. Upon this “curb” the two women now stood, ing upon the astonished trappers, who had not moved a muscle since their appearance. The eldest being grasped i. . bow held by her com- panion, and notched an arrow, as she uttered a few words in a shrill, cracked voice. Though evidently addressed to them, the trappers made no reply. In- deed, had not they been so bewildered, they would not have known what to say, since the words were strange to their ears. *“Go—leave this place—the Queen of the Boiling Springs warns you—beware how you anger her!’ uttered the younger being, in the clear, musical | had heard before, “The devil, more likely!’ muttered Chavez, too much of a daredevil for aught to cow him long. “I have one silver button left—I’ll try her with that.” ** Hold! don’t fire, man—they’re wimmen!"’ cried Yellowstone Jack, striking up the leveled rifle, though not in time to save the shot, though the sil- ver button whistled far aboved the head of the witch. His hand was still grasping the rifle, when a flash voice the of light seemed to blind his eyes, and he started back. Chavez nea a his hands and fell back, without a groan, a feathered shaft his throat. “My God! look yender!” gasped Brindle Joe. i hteit, | lth palo erin nhs the, hag ee Nt i tas eure OA ey still nearer the frightful death that now seemed in evitable, With an effort of will almost superhuman, May:&. nard crushed down the horror that well-nigh para lyzed both hand and brain, and once moré leveled revolver, The chance was a faint one. A wound, unless instantaneously fatal, would only procera the catastrophe. Yet it was the only + chance, ‘‘God have mercy on them now!”’ } These words burst from the young man’s lips, ag Win the hammer fell, for the second time, with a sullen He knew not that his weapons j had been rendered useless by the driving rain that «*‘ had heralded the terrible pouderee. And, knowing 4 that he was powerless to aid, he covered his eyer { with bis trembling hands. : ie The sharp, spiteful crack of a rifle saluted his ear, ‘as even above the howling of the tempest, and, amazed, he uncovered his eyes. At first he could distinguish nothing save a confused, struggling mass, rendered x indistinct by a flurry of snow, borne ge the win ¥ of an eddying whirlwind. Then, with an arm o iron, he checked the mad career of his animal, just hi in time to keep it from stumbling headlong over the ; upset democrat. What had happened? Hi ' When the maddened horses were seemingly j about to plunge down the canon—when less tha dozen yards of level ground divided them from abyss, a single rifle-ball whistled from behind a bowlder hard by, and tore its way through near horse's brain. With one spasmodic bound it fell dead, dragging with it its mate, whose hoofs slipped up on the carpet of snow and ice. The light wagon was whirled sideways, and over- turned, The occupants were cast out with violence, The off horse scrambled to its feet, and, madly. ~ ; plunging, sought to free itself. The traces held 4 A firm, The light wagon was jerked along. The dead ° horse was moved a few feet. One of the insensible i uak women was rudely twitched around, so that her be head pointed toward the abyss. ay It was Minnie. She had managed to secure the i reins, and, winding them around her arms, had tried sp ae to check the runaways. Even now, while uneon- me ys scious, her fingers closed tightly upon the leath- yar ern lines. And the terrified plunging of the shriek. ing animal threatened to drag her over the escarp- ment—to death, his horse and leaped to the ground. ut he was too late to rescue his loved one from the danger that threatened. ; The animal gave one terrific bound, then stood ; > ¢ | upon the very edge of the precipice, rearing, pawing : | managed to check his rush fue, | his utmost exertions. In vain he strove to leap the empty air furiously with its fore-feet, as thoug striving to retreat from a danger just realized, ; One iron-shod hoof slipped. The frost-eaten 7 rock cracked and crumbled beneath the strong pres- , sure, A wild, almost human shriek of horror and fear broke from, the lungs of the animal,.as it felé _ itself overbalanced. And then, with a mighty leap, - it sprung from the crumbling rock, far out over the canon’s depths, dragging with it the dead. horse, the ite wagon. One more scream—blood-curdling, intense- ie t ly horrible—and then came a dull, crashing sound as Ry the branches of the trees below gave way beneath : 5 their weight. “> Upon the very verge of the abyss stood a tal, lithe figure, one arm supporting a drooping form, / the other clasping a bright kuife, fluug back to) re- store his balance. As the horse leaped to its feet, a man dashed out from behind the bowlder, dropping his still smoking rifia, drawing a keen knife from his belt. He reach- ed the insensible maiden, just as the mad animal plunged into the abyss, and with a swift stroke sey- ered the reins that bound her wrists as his left arm assed round her waist. But it seemed as though weigh is bold adroitness would be all in vain. ae aN The terrible strain upon the reins had ey tia % \ 4 4 dragged the _ maiden to the very escarpment, and, though he © following th trang sneer fon aa ii stantly following the horse, the s' er foun we at the liteless weight upon left arm was dragging him down—was surely destroying his balance, Sy ih Z sy from the yawning abyss. An invisible power secm- ed restraining him—to be drawing slowly, sure 4 down to death, With every m strained to — t step that would carry him back Instead, he was giving way. His tall form was slow- a I bowing, ben er over the da FS: agzed down by the helpless body that so n arm. coddaew 5 ’ ria Thus matters were when Frank Maynard checked ( \ ; ' | o06U—UC HK OO eS - gee aA O “ana eaten =~ sere , a F that stranger 4 na a
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oe ke pitinly, and seemed to give him pain. h parted his lips. I open fife. There—if you interrupt me » the dark, and the death of these women will be upon ) \ehe ena the band of white men I guide. _ pS 7 eens tme stranger’s mind at such a momenéis 10 stain ‘upon his manhood. Lifeis -wect .o 4l._—cv.. to him who had braved death a w arced times, who lived only for revenge. What ued he, tlie death-aunter, to do with saving lives? Yet he banished the ~somentary temptation, and clinching his teeth unl it seemed as though they would be ground to powder, he continued his silent, horrible struggle. Then he was suddenty drawn back from the abyss, and sunk breathless upon the ground. A dark figure seized the drooping maiden from his arm, quickly, ulmost rudely. Frank Maynard had reached the stranger just in time to drag him back from death. The stranger griped his knife more firmly, and seemed about to leap upon Maynard, bat then the fire died out of his eyes, as he heard the soft, caress- ing words that fell from the young man’s lips. He Yellowstone Jack. | to carry out your plans? | avoid the loaded saw that this man was her friend, and said, coldly: || If the lady is only “Take this—it is good whisky. I will see what in a faint, that is the best medicine. ean be done for the other,” Maynard accepted the proffered flask, without so muah as glancing up at the donor. He had no thoughts for other than thé maidea who lay so white and cold upon his lap. Vernon Campbell—for it was the young scout who so opportunely appeared upon the scene—glided aver to where Ada Dixon was lying. He stooped suddenly and tenderly wiped away the blood that slowly oozed from a1 ugly bruise upon her forehead. As though the tous of-his hand had restored the spark of life, her eyes opened, resting wonderingly upon his face. *You need not fear, lady,’ said Campbell, in a soft, Feassuring tone. ‘ You are safe—the danger is past."’ “But dinnie—ohi! | remember now!” and a shud- | *apv oF horvor agitated ber form. “Ske is safe—and with a friend of yours yonder.” **Then Frank—he was in time to save us?” “Yes—but do not think of that now. See if you Rave escaped serious injury. ’Twas an ugly fall-—it you have escaped with whole bones, ‘twill b a@ miracle.” With these words Campbell offered his h: Ada rose erect, though not without some lit culty. She was stiff and sore, though the: to be nothing more serious than a few bruises. “*Minnie—itrank, she is not—not dead?’ faltered Ada, as she reached Maynara’s side. **No—thank God! her heart beats—and see! she opens her eyes!’ joyously criedthe young man. Vernon Campbeil turned abruptly away, and reach- fog the bowlder that jay under an overhanging ledge Where he had sought refuge from the pouderee, he jicked wp his rifle, and first running the wiping-stick torn the tube, carefully reloaded it. Then his eyes tested upon the trio who still knelt beside the abyss. The still-fierce wind that poured through the nar- row pass carried their words from him, so that he eould not hear what they said. Yet their actions A faint ' memo:ics of the dead past arose before him. Time volled backward and he saw himself a child, careless, hapvy, little dreaming of the future before him. He s.w his gentle mother, his bold, handsome father, his pretty, artless sister. Had she lived, she would have been about the age of these fair maidens, ‘Then he would have had something to live for. But then came the surptise—the massacre. He saw his ioved ones fall beneath the hatchet—he saw their scalps torn from their heads, His eyes filled with bl ood. But he had drunk deepof revenge—a Blackfoot warrior had fallen for every year of their lives. At this thought the tall, athletic figure grew more erect, his blue eyes gleamed like polished steel, he half raised his rifle as though beholding an enemy before It was only Brank and Ada, assisting Minnie to- ward the sheltering rock, and the wild fire gradually out in the scout’s eyes, as he silently made away. “1 haven’t thanked you yet, sir,” began Maynard, when he was rudely interrupted. “Wait until you're asked time enough then to ‘ of thanks. Never mina what I have done— rgetit, asT shall. Only pray that the time may not come when you will Gurse me for having put out a hand to save you.”’ “What do you mean?—you speak strangely. I cannot understand you. added Frank, wonderingly. f “You would not recognize my name were I to men- tionit. The Blackfeet know me; they call me Pe- eanne-puck-on-che-luk—the ‘Man that drinks blood ’ > > But, let that pass. You ask what lam. Your enemy, guppose, since I act as guide to those who are Geusking ou to your death, But I will play my hand ly, since you are white, like myself. andremember that I am giving pes a chance for s, 1 will leave you in head. , Listen. There is a traitorin your camp. His name is Chris Camp. He is there only to betray you, For this he has led you miles and miles away P dom ht trail, You are now in the yery heart of the te Coy Tepe Mat Mt le, who by a man who i ole, who com- by: ed We laid we t med your people, and Camp in- a ag Ree according to his instructions. ole as eyes that look far ahead. failure is He means to wait un- ina O) ble; then he will strike, The . A strong party joined him y th will attack your people soon.” among you | | drowsiness stole upon them, | the tempest changed | with asharp corner of the |; men were awakened. ‘“* Why do you tell me this, if you are the enemy you say?” “IT don’t know—because Iam a fool, maybe. But itis true, The blow will come—the sooner you pre- pare for it, the better. But there—I wash my haxds of the matter, You are warned—act as you please.” Speaking listlessly, Campbell shouldered his rifle, and facing the bitter storm, took a step toward the pass, when Maynard spoke hastily: * Wait—you admit yourself an oer aon threat- en us with death, Then why should I let you go free +9? Campbell turned his head, but made no effort to revolver that covered his back. There was a cadence of contempt in his voice as he replied: “T took you for a white man. You talk like a Blackfoot. If I have made such a mistake, I deserve the worst you can give me.” ; CHAPTER V. AN OLD FEUD REVIVED. Owrxe to the formation of the hills surroun the valley in which the outlaws—for such in tra they may be termed—led by Mat Mole had pitched their camp, they felt the force of the pouderee much less than the emigrants. Indeed, after the first furk ous blast, the men arose and watched the ternade passing far above their heads, esol og the hill- crests clean, tearing huge trees up by the roots, twisting the sturdy trunks asunder, hurling them hither and yon like jackstraws. But the terrible | hailstorm speedily drove them to cover again, while | it lasted. With these words, the young scout walked slowly | | the disappeared in the pass, boldly facing the ing een pest that drove the mingled snow and | | sleet furious how y before it. The three friends crouched under the lee of the bowlder, but it afforded scanty protection from the storm, Maynard removec his coat and wrapped it around Minnie. He looked around meaning to secure the saddle bianket for Ada, but the animal had disappeared. Unmurmuring.he took off his knit blouse and wound it around the half senseless maiden. Then he crouched down, bend- ing over them as much as possible, seeking to inter- cept the cruel, cutting wind that almost pierced their very marrow, That was a terrible, trying hour. It seemed as though all was lost—that they were doomed ta per- ish. The sharp, stinging sensation of pain gradually became less poignant, Their limbs grew numb, A The fierce howling of it seemed to Jull, to become soft and musical, like the gentle zephyrs of spring murmuring through the freshly-leaved tree-tops, A stupor stole over their brains. Unconscious of their danger, they yielded to it—to the stupor that pre- cedes death by freezing. A strange sound rose winds. <A shrill, piercing ing in terror or intense bodily agony. Ll lull, crashing jar. alarm roused Maynard, and he quickly lifted above the wailing of the cry as of some human be- Mingling with The his head. and as he rose, his temple came in violent contact bowlder. A tiny stream of blood trickled down his face, as though a vein had been punctured. Beyond a doubt this saved his life, for it dispelled the death stupor that was stealing away his senses, He cast a bewildered glance around, but could see nothing. Then he realized the peril that threatened the wo- men, that sleep which ended in death. He remembered the flask that the scout had banded him. He ran to the spot where it had been used, and foundit. A musical gurgle met his ear. He knew that enough remained for his purpose. He rudely, shook both Minnie and Ada. plied to him, but in vague. mutterings. open their lips and poured the strong liquor down their throats. A fit of coughing ensued; The wo- In eager words Frank reveal- | ed the danger that threatened, and finally succeeded | ‘hind a long bowlder. in getting them upon their feet. With one upon each arm, he walked # and fro, unheeding their prayers that they might be allowed to rest—to sleep. The povdere2 had spent its force. The heavens be- an to clear. The snow: and sleet ceased to fall hough’the wind was still powerful, it seemed less cold and piercing. The little snow on the level, rocky floor began to melt. Look yonder!’ abruptly cried Ada, at the end of a longer turn'than usual. “ A man—’ “ An Indian—back—hide behind the rock,” rapid- ly muttered Maynard, freeing his arms and drawing a revolver, The head and shoulders of an Indian rose from be- The black eyes were riveted nt the pale-faces, with a strange expression. Maynard thought it hatred, and leveled his weapon. He had rain had rendered it useless. For the third time that day it failed him. forgotten that the | With a grating curse, he drew his knife and leaped Who and what are you?” | Listen now, | forward. The Indian lifted an open hand, and muttered a few words in a harsh, guttural language, unknown to Frank. The reason was now revealed. A heavy rock had fajJlen across the savagé’s body, pinning him to the ground. *Halp him, Frank—look at his face, He must be suffering fearfully,” murmured Minnie, gliding for- | ward. “Tt is a Blackfoot—our enemy. You know what that strange man said. He must die!” “Tt would be murder! God would never prosper us with such a cold-blooded crime upon our sotils.”” “And were we to free him—if he is not already fatally injvred—what would be the result? woul as a reward. ; He saw that they were nearly senseless—in | He | shoot you down from ambush and scalp you, | Mat Mole crouched beneath a jutting point of rock that securely sheltered him. His brow was clouded; something more than the storm was troubling him. The few audible words that dropped from ‘his lips proved this. “T was a fool not to think of that before—and now it may be too late—the chief will not be held back long, after what { told him. If I could only—and why not? .Mat Mole does not look much like Gerald Manners—the eyes of love itself couldn't see the like | ness! And I'll find no such é¢yes there—at least, eyes } | old tricks. for his horse, | that sparkle for me. Then—I’ve not forgottep my I can do it—I will do it!” Mat Mole left his covert and crept toward the spot where his horse-equipage had been secured, and then, carrying a stout skin-pouch, he returned Pouring a few drops of a thick Aid from an antelo horn bottle, he rubbed his face, neck and han with it. His peculiar, sallow complexion was dark: ened almost to the hue of an Indian. Bits of quills, wrapped with cotton, were thrust into his nostril, Mat Mole chuckled grimly as he peered into the bit of scratched mirror he held ig his hand. The quills had altered his voice, giving it a peenliar nasal éwany, far from pleasant, Mole spoke a few words to Nicht-walker, and then gave his Vieutenant, Van Tobin, certain dirée- | tions, after waich he picked up his rifle and faci He had been bending over the women, | | As though desirous of making a favorab They re- | He forced | “He does not look like a bad man—see! he seems | to understand eur: words—”’ *““Hark! what is that?’ The rattle of firearms—the shrill whoops of In- dians, -mingled with the hoarser shouts of white men; such were the thrillmg sounds that came to the ears of the little party. “ Hooh} Blackfeet -peletaces! You help me—I save you,” suddenly uttered the savage. in imperfect the storm soon disappeared from the curious gaze his men. An hour later he was threading the pass through which the emigrant-train had toiled earlier in the day. Fortunately for him the pouderee had) spent its first ” force, or he could never have made headway agains$ it. The sound of excited voices came to his ears, and a minute later the confused wagon-train loomed up through the driving snow. He could distinguish hie man figures staggering to and fro, struggling to keep their feet against the furious windstorm. “ Hello, thar! you fellers!”’ shouted Mole, but the howling tempest drove the sound of his voice back. The outlaw gained the hindmost wagon before an one paid him any attention. Even then now were addressed him—only a brief stare of surprise, The emigrants Were just recovering from the shoek | Their first thought was of the Wildly moanivg, terrified animals. Twisted and entan, in the harness, the creatures were eh oes helpless, e impres- sion, Mat Mole lent a hand, working as faithfully as though his own property was concerned, Only ones he stopped to hiss a few words into the ear of Chris Camp. The traitor-guide stared in open-mouthed amazement, but a peculiar gesture checked the ex- clamation that trembled upon his tongue, and he bent once more to his work, though his bronzed | cheek was a shade paler than before. The animals were freed and led behind the wagons that still stood upright. Two of them had broken limbs, aud were put out of their misery. Many of the others were lamed.. The overturned we ried up far enough for the mangled body of the un- ini ty teamster to be dragged out. It was asick ening sight, that shapeless mass, so recently full of life, spirit and sensibility. ¥ **My God!” suddenly cried John Warren, “ where is the democrat? I thought they had reached the hill yonder, but I can see nothing of them!” x There is McCarthy—just getting up—he can tell, I guess.’ The agonized father ran to where the driver crouched, groaning with pain, and demanded his child. Poor Terence faltered out all he knew; hehad been thrown to the ground, and had caught a glimpse of the spring wagon as it van'shed up the pass. With these words the poor fellow fainted. “And we have been dallying hags—while m~ oor gen Neg dashed to pieces! God “In merc, protect er!’ He sprung to his horse, shouting for mon to fol- low. Half a dozen obeyed him, among them Ubrig Camp. \ Mole glided to his side, and muttered a word in his ear; Camp started and his uplifted foot dropped from the stirrup. As Warren leaped into the gaddle he noticed this action, and in a hoarse, ) unnatural tone shouted: ** You, too, Camp—we may need you.” Mole had turned aside. Camp hesitated for a mo- ment, then leaped into the saddle and dashed Warren. eyes flashing fire; but at that moment a firmbhan was placed upon his shoulder. ; “How did you come bere—a stranger? But never mind—you acted like a min in lending us a need, without waiting for an introduction.” ‘*Mount’in law sais—put a inemy én diffikilty when- ever you kin, but help a fri‘nd outo’ one. That's my style, boss,”’ quietly replied the disguised. outlaw, ‘Difficulty enough, heaven knows! I never wit nessed a storm to equal this.”’ “ Waal, yes, I reckon ‘twas a pritty fa’r ri Stiqen Talk about y’ur northers o’ the sou’west—they cain shine in the little puffs 0’ wind we sometimes git up i‘ hyer in the hills,’ “ You look as though you had fared hardly, toe on was. ‘The outlaw chief uttered a flerce curse, hig —
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frap fs sot, t blieve oon be him. Beadle’s alfDime Library. - Was ridin’ ‘Iong, keerless like, “Tdid git a taste. wi’ your train afore the storm thinkin’ to ketch up broke, when the wind ketched me an’ roiled both me ‘ ~~ an’ Patchie—my hoss, that is, boss—chuck over the eo’ the kenyon. I manidged to ketch holi o’ a , an’ saved my meat, but I reckon Patchie has gone straight to hoss-heaven, ef thar be sech a “Catch up with us—but we have passed no canon lately,” echoed the emigrant, Alfred Zimmerman, “hick a short cut—kem through the upper pass,’ hastily explained the discuised outlaw. “You were folowing us, then?” asked Zimmer- ’ “Yes—but who's that feller—the big varmint, who's gawpin’ at us’s though he’d never see’d a free trapper afore?’ abruptly demanded Mole, his voice i, | “That—Bob Harris, he calls himself. He joined s the other day, wounded; had some trouble with / the Blackfeet, I believe. Why—do you know him?” “Not by that name—though seems to me ’t I’ve met him some’r’s—or somebody a good deal like ‘im Told ye I was a free trapper. Two weeks back the fyed-skins smelt me out, and lit onto me ho heavy. They was led by a white feller. I puta tead-pill under his hide.” Thort I’d made ‘meat’ o’ him, . time to take notes, but I'd sw’ar ’at he was like enough to ‘hat feller yender, to be his twin-brother,” quietly snuffled Mole. “Ti may be—I have had my suspicions about him, He puts himself too forward. He finds fault with our de ys that none but a fool or a traitor have led us this far north. But hist—he is coming this way,’ and Zimmerman dropped his voice. _ The mountaineer, Bob Harris, who had for several minutes been closely wat@hing the outlay, now ad- Wanced toward them, a peculiar light in his keen A long rifle rested across his left arm; his t hand clasped the lock, as though to guard it m the driving particles of snow. “Hullow, Zene hev ye?”’ he uttered, in a quiet, peculiar tone that thrilled the emigrant strangely, he knew not why. ~ “T yeckon you're yelpin on the wrong trail, stran- how viainer than ever. the name o’ Hurraw Jake—that is, ef I war chris- ‘ened a-tall, which I cain’t justly sw’ar to, bein’ as I was so young like. As fer settlin’, I'ma free trap- none o’ your shif‘less squatters. Wharever my r I settles fer the time bein’.”’ urraw Jake's. good—so's free trapper—so’s Meck. Funny what big mistakes a feller will make gometimes. Knowed a feller one time what made b'lieve he war another man—fact! Most 's a mistake es Imade jes now. ‘D ’a’ swore you Was a Blackfoot sub-chief!” ‘re one on ’em, stranger. But see! I'm a babby, airthquake on wheels! much’s a plenty. Call me Green Burdock, or gnything else you like, jest so ye don’t go fer to in- _ ginivate as *’m sech a outdacious pizen riptyle es a Kkfoot! That riles me—it does so/”’ twanged Mat le, puffing out his cheeks ferociously. “Tsaid a chief—but I hedn’t heerd your tongue work. A squaw'd be better. Butiet that go. You'd high an’ nary a pa’r, Zene f so, no man ‘d dirty his han’s *rubbin’ you out in a stan’-up fight. He'd do like swore to do—put his heel on your head an’ ih ali the pizen out o’ it! Thar—you needn’t ; hone your knife, I ked blow ye through afore ye draw it, Waita bit. These fellers ‘pear curious to know what’s up. I reckon I'll spin ’em a bit of a est to lain why I’m down on Zene Kalloch. ‘ou kin lis’er » Hurrah Jake—an' when I’m done. ‘ou kin still say ‘at you're noi my game, then i ze any way you will—wi’ knives or rifles, to puit,”’ quietly sai to gather around. eho: You needn't look no furder. We'll jest a, ‘at I'm the feller you're lookin’ fer. Which it be—hot lead or cold steel?” “Then you giv’ up ’at you're Zene Kalloch?”’ “Give up nothin’! I'm Hurraw Jake, but I'll stan’ _ this feller’s moceasins ontel you're satisfied.” “Don't be snatched, Blackfoot—you'll find the ime quick enough a-comin’. *%) know what's up, an’ I don't blame ye. “game way more’n once’t myself. Lis’en. Felt the Won't _ keep ye long; ’ca’se this—gentleman—'pears in a hur- “Nigh twenty years ago I fust met Zene Kalloch, | when we was both consid’able younger ’n we be now. I savéd his life ‘in a Injun scrimmage when, bis skelp bed fa’riy started. I nussed him like a mo- Sher, ontel he was a man ag’in. I shared my traps wi’ him, while he made pelts enough w git a outfit 0’ his We was like sworn brothers fer over two years. I told him all ’bout my folks to the set- tements jest above St. ee ontel it peared like fre was raaly one o’ the fambly. I tuck him home wi’ me, an’ told ’em all he was my brother, an’ they @eated him as sech. “He was jest in time fer my only sister’s weddin’. Bhe @ young settler, poor, like we was our- ‘selves, but true-hearted an’ honest. But thar—I don’t reckon as you fellers feels much intrust in sech old won’t try to tell everythin’ that happen- ,” qivily responded Mole, and the nasal twang | “Twas chris’ened by | Bob Harris, as the emigrants be- | “Thar, old man—that’ll do. You've tuck your | Gentlemen, you want | an’ | ut I mought ’a’ bin mistaken, Didn’t h®v much | —me ‘nd Jethro Cowles, her husban’—but ‘twas no use. We lost the trail. For a year I hunted night an’ day. ThenI Varnthe’d stick out fer the Black- foot kentry. heerd enough about him. He had turned prairie pi- rate, and hed bin choosed a sub-chief o’ the Black- feet, who called him Creepin’ Panther. *But I needn't tell ye o’ all I did; o’ the long, weary years I spent in s’archin’ fer the sarpint. I never set my eyes on him but once, I was tuck by the Blackfeet then, an’ oneo the braves recognized me, I hed sent a few o’ his kin yelpin’ ‘long the last trail, an’ they saved me to put me to the torments in style, He kem an’ taunted me wi’ what hed happined. He told me that he hed soon tired o’ Mary, an’ as she bothered him wi’ her tears, he jest sold her to a half- breed Kanuck. He said she killed herself that same night. Es fer the kid, that he hed giv’ to a Injun squaw, years ago, “I stood this es long ’s I could. ThenI bu’st loose and struck the devil down wi’ his own knife. I'd killed him, an’ made a break fer liberty. I jump- ed on a hoss, an’ got away by the skin 0’ my teeth. It was a year or more afore I l'arnt Kalloch was still livin’. I’ve hunted him ever since—but never sot outlaw, ‘** Lift up the ha’r over y’ur left ear, Ef thar ain't I follered, but missed him, though I | I found Zene Kalloch in the camp then. | I thort | | ingly smoothed his long, tangled hair, the mark o’ a skelpin’-knife, then you ain't Zene | Kalloch,”’ gritted Bob Harris, leaping forward and clutching the long black locks, A simultaneous cry broke from the emigrants, as the telltale scar was revealed. But before one of their pumber could raise a hand, a long-bladed knife flashed in the air and was buried to the very hilt in the trapper’s throat. “ That's my answer, Bob Harris—curse ye!”’ cried Mat Mole, as he treed his hair and darted away from the Wayvus, running along the pass swiftly as a moun- | | tain goat, leaping from side to side to avoid the bul- a miniature fountain, some three feet in hight. Around this the water sparkled and effervesced something similar to, though in a lesser degree, the far-famed Soda Spi ngs of Bitter Root river. A thin vapor hovered over this spot, and the water really had the appearance of’boiling. “What's the sign, Yellowstone?” called out Brindle Joe, “You kincomeup. They’ve puckacheed—but how ? That gits me/” “Spooks is spooks--an’ so’s medicine,” quoth Hoo- sier, uncovering his head with an action that was | “This is a big medicine spring— | almost reverence. what good ‘d it be ‘ithout its sperits? This ‘ne 's got two, l reckon.” “They handled thar bow-arrers powerful like hu- man critters though—I didn’t know sperits needed to use sech things. An’ yit—whar kin they ‘a’ gone? | We kin see the sides an’ the bottom, every inch. Thar ain’t no hole ‘cept that ‘ne at the bottom whar | the water bubbles up;an’ it ain't big es a man’s fist. A mortal critter kedn’t go through that. They jumped in—they didn't git out ag*in, or we'd ‘a’ see‘d | em. I reckon sperits o’ the ellowstone Jack. “Did ary one o’ ye notice thar right paws?” sud- denly put in Heely Hank. ‘This is the place whar old Black Harris kem to make medicine that time!” The trappers interchanged quick neces, The | lines upon their weather-beaten faces deepened. The expression of awe now appeared one of fear. Yellow- stone Jack uttered, in a tone of foreed raillery: “You're wuss’n @ pees | Heely Hank—you’d wake a dyin’ man up to ax he b'lieved in the devil! But Bios yee Mexy—we've clean forgot the pore feller.”’ What was hidden beneath the words of Gile, Hank? A fantasticlegend. Toexplain the ou’re right, Hoosier—we've see’d the | edicine Spring,” gravely muttered | keen-witted, shrewd and sensible man, in everything except his strong superstition. Yellowstone Jack and his comrades had often heard this legend, and they knew that this was the very spring mentioned by Black Harris. The st scenes they had witnessed—this beautiful woman aud her marvelous disappearance had fully aroused their superstition. They tound Chavez, the Mexican, dead. The arrow had pierced his neck, dividing the sem column. They lifted his body and bore it hastily away from that ill-favored spot, A shrill, piercing, taunting langh came to their ears, as they passed down the valley. Turning, they beheld a weird figure standing upon the mound they had crept up behind. It was that of the old hag—the witch of the Boiling Spring. “This is the devil's den, boys—I cain’t breathe easy in it,” huskily muttered Yellowstone Jack, has- tening forward with his burden. This belief seemed shared by his comrades, since their pace was acceler ced, nor did one of them cast another look backward or eon for breath until they nae pose an abrupt bend in the valley that shut off all view of the Spr Yellowstone Jack paused ide a large bowlder that stood upon one end; at its base was a small hol- low. The men read aright his questioning look, and nodded assent. With their knives the hollow was deepened, the loose earth carefully placed in a pile, Then the body was deposited in the trench and a few leaves and twigs strewn over it. The dirt was pushed back and pressed down. Then the four men leaned heavily against the bowlder until it slowly toppled over, forever concealing the grave from human eyes, “ie desarved a big monniment ef human pb ever did,” said Jack, brushing the perspiration fro his brow. “ He was a squar’ man, clean through, he did hev greaser blood in him.” “ Big es the rock is, *twon't aa him down, I'm dub’us,”’ gloomily muttered Brindle Joe. “*A mur. dered man cain’t rest peace’bly long’s the one what rubs him out goes onpunished, But kin we take the skelp 0’ a spook? Not much!” “T don’t know—mebbe we was too quick in gittin’ skeered—thar’s a pesky lot o’ humbug in this es Mind, I don’t say ‘t this és a humbug—but I do say I'm goin’ to look inter it a little closter afore long, storm brewin’—I Chavez was too good a pard to let go so . But it’s time we eal ttin’ back to quarters. Wendie a n feel it in my bones!” Half an hour later a glorious prospect was opened before the eyes of the trappers They stood upon > ond a r af |
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) # Yellowstone Jack. narrow | of rock that ran partially around the mountain. fore them, to the right and left, miles and miles of ground seemed spread at their feet; of hills and hing Seo broken and wild, of valley and mini- ature plain, fertile and lovely, of deep, winding can- ons, gloomy and forbidding—all these were spread before them. “Ge—thurder! look in Bad Wolf kenyon—see the white wagon-kivers—a emigrant-train!” exclaimed Brindle Joe, in astonishment. *Skelps must be plenty wi’ them sence they kerry ’em to sech a market as this. But look—the storm’s comin’ like fun! We must cache—in a hurry, too. Ef we're ketched hyar, it’s good-by John!” The trappers now began rapidly descending, leap- ing from ledge to ledge, alighting upon rocky crags that would scarce have afforded footing for a moun- tain gcat, letting themselves down by bushes and creepers. They knew that this was no common storm, that 2 human being upon the mountain, un- provided with shelter, would stand but a faint chance of escaping with life. *“Hyar we be—an’ none too soon, nuther!” gas Jack, as he crept into a roomy cave half-way down the mountain side. ‘ Jess lis’en! it’s a game o’ ten- pins wi’ dornicks fer balls an’ trees fer pins!” Huge bowlders thundered by, Great trunks of trees, splintered and cracked, were hurled past the ¢ave-mouth, Theicy-cold blast eddied through the ehilling the men to the bone, until they were to huddie close together, Yet, whenever the roaring of the elements would ! ped | \ admit of audible speech, they discussed the sight they | had just witness train. Its presence in that remote region, so far from —that of the white-tilted wagon- | | any recognized emigrant-trail, was indeed remarka- | ble. They could not understand it, knowing as the did how implacable the Blackfeet were toward all pale-faces not actuaHy adopted into their tribe. It Beemed 2 : massacre ong. “ Mebbe it’s cae o’ them hag ime outfits, though what they want hyar, I don’t know. They md thar fe sech things, but I cain’t see what fer—onless to keep the Injins stirred up, or to make game an’ bea- ver skeerce.”’ : be **Mought be a gov’ment-train to ’stablish a tradin t,’’ feebly suggested Brindle Joe. “Tdidn’t see no sojers—but it may be. Anyhow, they're while. S’posin’ we giv’ ‘em acall? Mebbe we kin make a raise 0’ some powder an’ whisky.” This clinched the matter. The decision was unani- mous—they would visit the train as soon as the storm would permit. The trappers did not wait ‘long before starting | iracle how the travelers had escaped | forth, though the pouderee was still raging furiously. | But it was freezing cold within the damp den, and they preferred risking the danger of being crushed | by some of the many storm missiles; or being blown ever the edge of some canon, to freezing. Exercise would prevent that. The nature of the ground, broken, intersected by almost fathomless canons, forced them to make a wide detour. They reached the upper pass at last, sound in limb, when the storm was nearly over. * Look yender|!” suddenly cried Brindle Joe, point- i a point of rocks. E re) red-skins, too! Thar’s goin’ to be a fust-class muss thar in jist three shakes! Look! thar it comes! Boys—they’re whites—shall we let em be wiped out Wke that?’ Yellowstone Jack's comsades replied by gliding to- ward the spot where the rival races had come into eollision. And the wild sounds of mortal strife arose even above the clamor of the elements, “White men, by CHAPTER VII. A DASTARD SHOT. FRANK MAYNARD was not a little surprised by this gilded rapidly away from the spot, € | and be dashed to pieces. abrupt speech of the Indian, and foramoment made | no reply. : L bd Blavkfeet—pale-faces fightin’ over dere. One git , Oder come here, Plenty mad, den—eyes full blood. No stop to talk—strike fust—strike hard, too, Better we go hide, den. Dat why Pethonista he say —you help me—I help ou,” rapidly added the sav- age. with evident difficulty. ‘Were I to set you free, we would only have one more enemy to deal with,” hesitatéd Maynard. “Help him if you can, Frank,’’ interposed Minnie, ongery “Think how he must suffer beneath that , 1h SN He don't look like such a very bad Indian,” mur- | mured Ada Dixon, then shrinking back as the keen black eyes of the savage were turned upon her; there was a glow of admiration in their depths that chilled her blood. “ Pethonista he chief—he no got crooked tongue. What he say, he do. He no want you’ scalps. He plenty strong voice. All he need do is holler Bad Blackfoot hear—dey come—ax what chief | their guide, were gliding 8 ——ireg judice. However, I will set you free, if I can. The rock is a big one, and Iam only one man, after all.”’ Poca and I will help you, Frank,’ said Minnie, eagerly. ‘** Won't need much lift. Me fall in hole here, else rock kill me plenty quick. It hug down tight, dough,” interposed Pethonista, bracing his hands against the rock. Maynard secured a firm hold upon the smaller end of the oblong bowlder, and then, exerting his utmost power, succeeded in raising the stone a few inches, Ada and Minnie lent their mite, and Petho- nista, with an agile, snake-like movement, writhed his body out from a little hollow into which he had fortunately fallen. <A single foot to either side and the * anannecks bowlder would have crushed him to death. He did not speak, but bowed before the women, lightly pressing their hands to his bosom, as though vowing fealty to them. Then drawing the rc. SS a reason why he, though a chief of the Siksikaga feet, was forced to use so much caution, instead of openly leading them to their friends. A Blackfoot brave had brought a white scalp to | | his village, and said that he knew where more pale knife from his girdle, he held the handle toward | Maynard. “Let my white brother take this knife, and if he sees a single black spot in the Eagle’s heart, let him strike hard and wipe it out.” Though he spoke in his own dialect, there could be no mistaking this action, and whatever of suspi- gicn Maynard may have entertained was now ban- ished, ‘No, chief, keep your weapon. I don't believe ou would turn it against the breasts of those who avg befriended you. But see—the firing has stopped. The fight must be over. If I only knew how it had ended—!” added Frank, anxiously. *“No—um go on ag’in. Dere rifle—some one git killed den, I reckon,” coolly returned Pethonista, or the Eagle, as that title may be interpreted. “Only tor—" Minnie and Ada, wags had scught shelter from the cutting wind behina a point of rock. “I vwwould go and see if I could not help the whites, They must be friends—perhaps some of our people searching for us.”’ ** You lose scalp dere, sartin. Big warriors, Black- feet—fight like debbie love white blood. Bes’ we hide now, till kin git back to you’ fr’en’s. When dark comes, den me show you trail. —dat bes’, Dat my talk,” “Then we had better hide until after dark?” “Me tink dat bes’ trail—save scalp, den, sure. Mebbe kin save it anyhow, but not sure, Pethonista chief, but he act now like common brave. Kouton- ipi lead Blackfeet now. But come—fight come dis way, quick—we bes’ go hide, while kin,’’ hurriedly added the Indian, after a moment's pause. Maynard did not hesitate long. He also could tell that the combatants were gradually nearing the spot, one party evidently being forced back, The Eagle appeared to have fully decided upon his course of action, for he did not hesitate a moment after the young man mutely admitted his trust, but Maynard fol- »wed close upon his heels, assisting Minnie and Ada over the inequalities, striving to lessen, if not dissi- pate, their natural fears. After proceeding some two-score yards, their fur- ther progress was barred, the ledge abruptly ending. Pethonista chuckled grimly at the blank look that Maynard cast upon him, and stooping, he lightly dropped over the edge of the canon, alighting upon atledge searce one foot wide. **You must be mad, chief,” cried Maynard, angrily, in answer to the Blackfoot, who motioned him to pass the women downtohim, ‘* You would both fall No, you must find some better trail than that, or else we stay here to face whatever may come.” Pethonista .made an impatient gesture, then dropped from his perch to another some six feet be- low. . Drawing himself up again by the strength of his arms, he uttered: “Dat way, I mean. You give squaw—I put her down dere, Den you come—we zo,too, Allright den —plenty rooni—wide trai]. Better dan wait fo’ Blackfeet come scalp.” “He is right, Frank,” interposed Ada. “If we trust him at all, why not entirely? I do not believe he means treachery. I will go first—help me.” The Eagle gave an emphatie grunt of approval; and raised his arms. Maynard yielded, and lowered Ada over the escarpment. Pethonista held her lightly for a moment, then dropped her to the second ledge. Be snake now | heap! Koutonipi no take ‘scalp, while Eagle and Maynard looked wistfully upon | “I was right—there is a good, safe path here,” the ° brave girl cried, the next moment. Thus reassured, Minnie was quickly placed beside her cousin, and Maynard followed. Pethonista cropped to the ledge, and then led the way. The scene was peculiar. The little party along the perpenc with lieular | face of the canon, several yards below its top. The want. He say—tek scalp pale-faces—you kill quick. | Pethonista don’t yell—don’t say sak soalp—den he | you’ frien’. Dat my talk.” “Well, red than half believe you are—but mind this. If I set free from this hobble, and you try to play us I will kill you like a coyote—mind that.” “No need so—a chief don’t lie,” coldly re- sponded the Blackfoot. sive lta a mterv: heard. Evidently the struggle still con- “That remains to be seen, chief, hough I must | hour, Pethonista paused and said that thc -skin, you may be honest—and I more | still continued, though at _ e faint yells could occasion- | abyss yawned below them, dark and gloomy. The bushy tops of trees swayed to and'fro below them in the eddying wind, though’scarce a breath touched the fugitives. The wall avove shielded them. After following this precarious trail for half an might now wait until the shades of night should settle down upon the earth, under cover of which they could gain the wagon-train undiscovered by the Llackfeet, Though the trio were so anxious to rezain their friends, who would be dreading the worst from their long absence, they could not object to the Eagle's reasoning, and composed themselves to wait. The sort of a niche in which they paused was well | sheltered, even if the storm had not entirely ceased. cleared and The air eed grew warmer, the aky 1 wTizon. the sun shone brightly as it neared the that your tribe bas not a remarkably savo While waiting, Pethonista, who appeared to be in ~ ; but the devil is not as black as he’s | unusually good humor and to fee Pidind toward cod, und this may be a good deal owing to pre- | those who assisted him, explained to Frank the . : : ; » / +s : 4s ‘ ae lis ‘ — ee bei Si = - . eke tis UA LAs wi: bo faces were hidden, trapping. mediately made up, and, guided by the brave, star ed a once to punish the interlopers, They met Pethonista, who had been out hun ing alone, and her resolved to join them, though knowing that, in ac cordance with the rules of the tribe, he must serve ~ as a common brave, subject to the orders of Kom tonipi, a sub-chief, really far below him in 4. On thé morning of the storm, Koutonipi sent scouts to learn whether the. trappers had taken th alarm and fled at the death of (heir comrade, whils the main body remained behind to await the re Pethonista wandered away from them, when tip storm caught them. He heard the rifle-shot struggle upon the edge of the cancn, and crept for ward, hoping to gain a scalp. But ‘a loosene BO der gave way and crushed hin to the ground, “Me wanted you’ scalp den,” the Eagle cou with refreshing frankness, ‘‘but you help me. Now me fight fo’ you. You my brudder—me like fe a aa wait—den slip by in dark. Den no trom ie, Asthe sun sunk to rest, the party resumed their way. Pethonistasaid that a few hundred yards more would carry them to a point where they could Fee | regain the level ground, and then a couple of ho would see them safely to the train. The girls, though stiff and sore from the bru they had received during their fearful ride, as we as when they were cast from the overturned “demo ~ crat,” bore up nobly under the fatigue, for thi thought the worst was past—that all danger was ] behind them. ture had in store! Pethonista suddenly paused and crouched low down, throwing forward his rifle. <A ce sound—like the sharp click-click of a rifle being ed—met his ear. But he was too late, A loud report—a blinding sheet of flame. A shrill cry of agony followed. Frank Movnard flung up hiv hands, and, tottering for a moment, {cll backwar? over the escarpment, down—down! CHAPTER VIII. THE WITCH OF THE LOILING SPRING, WHEN the reudcr is informed that the story tol# by the uniortunate Lob Harris was true in every articular, the e.aotions of the disguised’ outlaw, Mat Mole, can readily be imavined. Yet, naturally brave, despite his villainy, he did not suffer a change to escape him, even while expressing pantoniinte ridicule of the trapper’s words. He knew that bot} could not live through that interview—that the dec#® of at least one must be the finale. He had visilet the train to make arrangements. with Chris Camp for the final, blow. The traitor-guide Was gone, so that object was a failure. Thus he was ready when the crisis came, and plunged his knife'to the hilt just 7 over the trapper's collar bone. Then, with a rapid bound, he assed the two emigrants who stood Loe tween him and the pass, and was beyond arms length before a hand could be interposed} Leaping swiftly from side to side with the skill wonderful agility that had gained him a name even among the athletic Blackfeet, he darted down pass. Several bullets, hastily discharged, with ie or no attempt at aim, whistled harmlessly ; And # taunting cry broke from: his lips, so ass was he of ultimate escape, knowing as he did thab none but draught mules remained with the — the sadale-horses having been ridden by the grants setting forth in quest of the runaways. He continued his flight with a swiftness the begt Indian ruuner might have envied, covering tits ground wth long, swinging strides closely resem bling those of a hotly-hunted moose, until the di vision of the pass was gained. Here, for the as time, he glanced back. No one was in sight. placed one ear to the ground, but could distinguish no sound above the howling winds, *Sensible—they haven't chased me!” he mutte with a satisfied, chuckle. ‘ Guess I astonished ther a little by my style of shaking moccasin. Then did kill that varmint! Else he would have follow: me, even though my trail led to Hades itself! Ug: how my blood chilled when I first met those eyes! Aud I had believed him wiped out, years since, Well, he’s tuken up the long trail at last—I wish the fiend joy of his bargain! Ha!I forgot Warren what if I should meet them coming back? What story could I tell them? If I could only tell which pass they took.” Mat Mole closely inspected the rocky ground, but found nothing to guide him with certainty. The snow had been swept clear by the wind, the hail stones had nearly all melted, where hoofs had scratched the rocky ground these were in both divisions alike, “Well, I will risk this one,” he finally decid feai.ig to delay longer. ‘It is the shortest, and e if the, took it, I may come back.”’ Had he chosen the ge pass, Mat Mole wo have egme in contact with Maynard, Pethonista the two women. As it was he chose the lower, th follwing direct upon the trail of John Warren his party. , “Curse that Chris Camp! why did he go off whem I told him—but I could not have told what I wani anyhow, so efter all © don’t matter, Yet ‘twas glorious day’s work! . * best I ever did—since now I know that infernal b. ,odhound is dead. *Twasn't for nothing my dreamins of him so often of but I'll never again wake.up with the feeling of his | Black A war-party was ime pork rue, he found pla bul reach open ground before they 5) Little did they dream of what the fur —
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| rete ee ec aperpaemngertes on fingers throttling me. Ugh! what fools men are sometimes. Just see what bother and trouble iat bit of nonsense has made me, Yet what was * )ghe, after all? A dainty bit of flesh and blood, no / more. If she had been free I don’t suppose I'd have A Me ey her a second thought—but I wanted to spoil & good-natured fool’s happiness. Yet he must -finve thought a heap of her—to go crazy over it! > But there—confound it all! how the subject does run iH my brain—I can’t drive it away. Because of that i brute, Harris, I suppose.”’ ry ne outlaw seemed desirous of forgetting the mat- #er, and muttered to hjmself of a dozen different fines, but the memory could not be entirely ban- ‘hed, curse it as he might. Was ita p :sintiment— ‘@ shadow cast upon his spirit by what (he future had "im Store? As he reached the mouth of the pass, Mat Mole Weard the click of a hoof upon rocks, aud glancing Thastily to the left, saw a number of horsemen rid- "mg toward him, thouch still at a considerable dis- Wganes. He re “ognized the party of emigrants, and et ‘@rouching low down, ran swiftly away,. taking a » ) edge that he believed would carry him far beyond © each of the mounted men, even if he should be dis- J@overed. But a few moments showed him that the abruptly ended! Seemingly a portion of the gock had been broken off during the storm by a Sowlder falling from the hights above. The hoof-strokes sounded louder, and served to if an his wits. To retreat would be to court a aollision that would be awkward, to say the least. "Stooping, he glanced over the ledge. A bright light Willed his eyes. Clutching a point of rock, he quick- ¥y lowered himself over the edge. OClinging thus for a@imoment, he dropped lightly, and then cautiously glong a narrow trail until hidden round a slight da. » “Tf they feel like following me now, all right, My fen will have a few less to deal with to-night,” @buckled the bandit, looking to the caps of his re- ik WOlvers, ) But\ Mole had deceived himself, The horsemen ) had not observed him, and rode on, the sound of ) their animals’ hoofs rapidly dying away in the dis- Bance. Yet Mole did not retrace his steps. ain ) sides by juliing points over which he could peer if "mecessary. tHe cecemed deep buried in thought, and #he minutes gradually grew into hours unheeded. “Then the outlaw awoke to a sense of his surround- Mines. A suspicious sound had met his ear. He anced quickly over the point of rock, and a wild itter flied his eyes. If ever human being was pos- _ sed of the devil, Mat Mole was that man then. A hiorrible expression distorted his face; hatred, re- \wenee, venomous delight—all gathered into one errithing, working mask. Quick as thought he lifted his rifle and fired. A rible shriek followed—then a dull, crashing sound # dark body phinged swiftly down the depth. Crouching dewn below the rock, the outlaw ut- gtartied the Night-walker, earlier in the.day—the warvhoop of Creeping Panther, the white sub- enicf of ne sluckfeet. 1) it's the Haghe. I don’t think he'll dare dispute Roy will, alter what has passed between us, but if Whe does—well, I will lose an Indian brother, that’s ie ail,” muttered Mat Mole, as he drew a revolver and 1) stood erect, though all but his head was concealed Behind the rock. , > | "You seem surprised to meet me here, brother,” ) fhe outlaw said, using the Siksikaga dialect, which is ‘ut litile different from that of the other two divi- ions of Ue Blackfoot tribe. “There is 2 cloud between \us,” gloomily replied @he chicf. ‘“ You have killed a brave who was under wmy protection. The pledge of a Blackfoot. chief is mot to be broken like that of a pale-faco squaw.” » “I have. taken the life of an enemy—of one who Shas long followed my trail with blood in his éyes. » Would you have me sit still and let him tear off my gcalp? Is that the advice you give a brother?” . Pethonisia hesitated, and cast a glance back to where Minnie md Ada crouched sobbing upon the ledge, tight locked in each other’s arms. He seemed \ ima quandary. - There is one especially sacred bond among the, , Blackfeet. It is where one brave declares another his brother hy 2 peculiar ceremony. He fills his mouth i ) with pure water, winds his arms around the chosen ) @me’s neck, and while kissing him, ejects the liquid @ito the other’s mouth, If swallowed, the pledge is > vatified, aud the chosen brother has entire control ' ever the other’s future life. His will is law, in small >) @s well as great matters. An Indian would suffer a ) thousand deaths rather than disgrave himself and | family hy proving false to his pledge.* > Mat Mole had once saved the Eagle's life, nearly dosing his own in the attempt, and the grateful sav- axe bad proclaimed Creeping Panther his brother be- Sie nega tribe. Upon this pledge Mole now re nd d, ©. He had fired upon the impulse of the moment, op directly upon recog nizing Frank Maynard, whom he a beep a8 a suceessful rival. Knowing that Peth- @iista was an'tinveterate enemy to all pale-faces out- ‘gide of his own tribe, he naturally supposed the chief Lee. od aos them, and as an Indian is bound to de- be 8 fend with bis life, if need be, the captive who has Riiaeenicion, lest his enemy,should escape hira, through the Bagle’s sense of hovor. ) Pethonista silenily bowed his head at this hint of #he bond between them, and Mole saw that his words had not been in vain. ] wn as late i Au instance was kno as the Heir thi tine Sy Nt a, ’ Hee \ re) ae He | g@rouched there upon the rocks, shielded upon. both | | eaptive—you can do what you like with the other, tered 4 shrill, p6euliar whoop—the same that had so | | felded to his prowess, Mat Mole feared to await re- | | about? frovh Ada, With bitter curses and. eadle’s Half-Dime Library. “‘Let my brother, the Eagle of the great Blackfeet, listen,’ continued the outlaw, resolved to strike while the iron was hot. “A hunter finds him a fine, fat deer. He sets out upon its trail and never pauses for rest or food or drink, but keeps on and on until the swift deer tires and grows weak, until its steps are | short and feeble and it is ray to lie down and die. | I Another hunter comes by, and puts out his hand and catches the deer that is too tired to escape him, just | as the first hunter comes up. Now will my brother tell me which one of the hunters has the best claim upon the game?” abruptly concluded Mat Mole, “The long trailer,” promptly responded Pethon- | ista. “Good! the eyes of the Eagle are clear—they can read the truth through the deepest cloud. Brother, 7 am the long trailer—yov are the hunter who puts out his hand to stop the game I had run down, moons I have been on the trail of this deer; which is best--your claim or mine?” Pethonista cast a quick giance back upon the sob- bing, terrified maidens, and then keenly gazed _ into the outlaw’s eyes. Flis eyes were boldly met. Mole was playing for a high stake, and had summoned all his wits. “The Eagle is right. The brown-haired squaw is the game I have trailed\so long andfar. She belongs to me. Whose right is better than mine? If my brother started the game first, let, him speak, arid I will give way to him. If not, then he must not inter- fere, unless he has forgotten that we are brothers.” “A chief never forgets,’ coldly replied Pethonista. “The light-haired squaw is my brother’s. But he does not speak of the other. Does he claim her, as well?” For six | **No—I care not for her, though she is fair to look | upon. She would fill the lodge of a Blackfoot chief well.” “A Blackfoot chief does not hunt a Squaw amonmr the enemies of his people,” coldly returned Pethoh- ista. Mat Mole laughed. He cared little for the Ragie’s ill-humor, provided that worthy did not interfere further. Bold as he\was, he knew that the chief would be more than his match, if they ever came in- to collision, “Well, chief, ‘tis a bargain, then. Iwill take my said Mat Mole, gliding round the point of rocks, and approaching the cuwering girls.“ Come,” he added, roughly, while Pothonista gloomily watched them, “enouch of this nonsense. What are you whining Because that fool fell over the rock? Bah! there are plenty more men in the world—and better men, too, by long odds. But see—*tis getting dark, and there is a long trail before us. ‘Come—or must Thelp you?” she Who are you—what do you want?” faltered Minnie. “Tm your master at present—until I take you to | What I want is that you follow, me, my Master. Do you want to stay without any more whining. here all night?” ‘*No—no! take us to our friends, and we will bless—" “That’s just what I mean to do. Yourfriends are waiting for us, anxious enough, no doubt. Come!” ‘He is lying, Minnie—he is trying to deceive us!” cried Ada.” ‘‘ He is no friend—he shot poor Frank.” “Your tongue is too free, girl; but never mind. The chief will bridle it, He means to make you his squaw—” ‘Creeping Panther lies!’’ flercely interrupted Pe- thonista, “*T only wanted to close her mouth, chief,” said Mole, but the devilish Spey in his eyes belied the humble words. ‘See here,’ he added, turning to Minnie, impatiently, “‘take your choice. Either walk with me quietly, or else I will carry you in my arms, though upon such a narrow trail we will be more apt to find the bottom of the canon together than to reach level ground. But Iwill wait no longer. Will you walk, or shall L—” “Twill walk. If you mean us evil, may God punish you as ycu deserve,’ quietly replied Minnie, arising. “Thanks for your good wishes! Chief, will you come?” Pethonista simply bowed, and then extended his hand to aid Ada.round the point. She gazed at him keenly for & moment, then accepted the proffered assistance. Something told. her this’ man could be ‘trusted. Mole led the way, back over the route he had come, followed by Minnie, behind whom came Pe- thonista and Ada. In a few minutes the place where Mole had descended was reached, and climbing up first, he assisted the others. Then he turned to the Eagle, and said: “Wil the Eagle walk with his brother, or does his trail lie in another direction? He would be glad to bave the Siksikagd, chief show us bow to strike the pale-faces to-night, though Night-walker is with Ss 7? “ Pethonista is not needed where Neepaughwheese me len he will follow his own trail,’’ was the cold re ) v. lat Mole smiled grimly. He was right well con- tent that the matter should end thus. He began to IGok upon the chief as an incumbrance instead of an ally. “Well, chief, as you please. I will take my squaw and go—you can work your pleasure with the other, Remember thatjshe has friends near, who are look- ing for her, though they will not. be able to trouble us long. We strike them this night, and if you would like to win a scalp or two, you can come andshow my braves how to fight.” Then. he drew Minnie’s hand through his own and not to be separated significant threats | would avail him little. ren?” | devil drives.’ ePeatat TNE ~ane * PRPS TSIEN TUCRNES MOT. ASA Pepa: sori that caused her blood to run cold. Little did she suspect who this rough.man really was—least of all recognize in him the polished Gerald Manners, wha, a few months previously, had made ardent love to her, who had seemed fairly heart-broken when she refused his proffered hand. - ‘“‘Where are you taking me—what have I done, that you should treat me so cruelly?” tremblingly asked the maiden. “T’m taking you where you'll be taken good care of,” responded Mat Mole, nasally. ‘* Where you'll be treated like a lady. As to what you’ve done, T reckon the boss ‘ll tell you. My idee is that you’ve jilted him some time or another, and he takes this way to get even. I don't know what else he followed you clear from the States for,” coolly responded Mole, with a covert glance. “There is—there must be some mistake, I have wronged nobody—you must have been sent after—” “Your name is Minnie—daughter of old John War- “Yes, but—” “Nary mistake, then. wants,’ ‘** Who is this man—your master, then?” “Well, you must know it anyhow, before long, se I guess there’s no harm in saying it’s Gerald - ners.”’ “Impossible! you are tryine to deceive me—Ger- ald Manners is a gentlemen,’’ cried Minnie, impule- ively. “Vos I reckon he'is—ofter.a way. Anyhow,’ he means to treat you righ!. The moment you say you'll marry him, you will be free as air to go where you will,”’ “¥ cannot believe that he would stoop to such wickedness—such meanness. But if he shorld, it Is this the way to win the You're the bird the boss love of a woman—by—" “ There—your voice is sweet and musical, lady, but you raise if too loud for our safety. These rocks have ears—these hills are full of enemies both to you and me—of cruel, bloodthirsty Indians, whe would glory in tearing off that pretty head of hair— or in treating you even worse. We have had talk enough for a time—please let your tongue resi should hate to gag a lady, but needs must when che , The outlaw abruptly paused and glared keenly around. Was it fancy, or had he indeed heard a low chuckle at his last words? He could see not) ing ee confirm the suspicion—ell was still save the mornin wind. And with a curse he thrust back the half- drawn revolver, and strode rapidly forward, holding | Minnie firmly by the arm. She also was silent. Something in the bandit’s tone told her that it would be dangerous to cross his will now. Besides, the terrible trials that she had that day undergone, had completely broken down her spirit, and she almost unconsciously dragged her heavy feet along. Mat Mole seémed in a hurry to reach his camp. Better for him had he used more caution, if he had cast ‘an occasional glance behind him. Thou *twould have taken a keen eye to detect the dark fig- ure that dogged their steps. Silently as a shadow the phantom-like form followed them, now almost within arm's length, now lingering behind, almost fading away asit seemed. But after dogging them thus for nearly two m through the hills, the shadow stealthily drew near- er, and then, with a shrill, eldritch seream, leaped forward, and dealt the startled outlaw a fearful blow upon his head, felling him like alog, The heavy club was again lifted, and the fiery eyes glared down upon the fallen man, like those of a maddened heast. The outlaw did not move, The blow appeared to have been fatal. And then the threatening club sunk, as the strange being withdrew its foot from the lifeless form, turning to where: Minnie had sunk to the ground in a swoon on hearing that horrible, unearthly cry. The blood-stained club was lifted threateningly as though about to dash itself upon the maiden’s de- fenseless head, but then, with a low, indescribable. _ laugh, the shadow caught Minnie up and glided away, An the moon momentarily shone out, revealing the wild figure of.the Witch of the Boiling Springs! { CHAPTER 1X. THE CRAWL OF THE SERPENTS. PrrHonista quickly grasped Ada by the che sprung forward to join Minnie, when Mat half-dragged, half carried her away throngh the darkness. ‘Her struggles for freedom were in vain— | firmly, though gently, the Eagle held her captive. at Mole Then, with a warning cry, the maiden sunk a lifeless weight upon the chief’s arm, e Blackfoot found bimself in a dilemma- : anything but pleasant. He ¥ the ground, and then, while staring at her with uizzled eyes, the Eagle diligently scratched hig read. A Blackfoot squaw is not civilized enough to know how to faint. Even if she did understand the fash- ionable art, it’s odd that the first trial would satisfy = her—her lord and master would undoubtedly a the lodge-pole remedy—rude, but very. effect Pethonista would have tried something of the kind) —- with a squaw of his own people, but be was almost ’ afraid to touch this ontgs 4 of delicate white clay, — and it was with positive joy that he heard Ada utter | a faint moan, at the same time lifting her head, “Squaw needn't be ‘fraid,” Pethonista hastened to assure the maiden. ‘ Creeping Panther he gon | VW f i iy “ is ’way—Eagle take the squaw to frien’s, plenty quick.” ake me to her—to nie—do tl ep be 97 - and I will thank you,” broke f ' “No. Eag: le he big fool do. BD ntly lowe i ag y lowered Ada fo. xy a! f
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ee ol Yellowstone Jack. dat Night-walker wid him? Night-walker big brave | tened intently. No suspicious sound ‘broke the air, —tek plenty scalps—fight like debble. But eye for white squaw. He see you—dat makes his eye full of fire. @ Say—you go my lodge—you be squaw chief. Yo say no—fo’ Night-walker not e bad | Everything seemed peaceful and quiet. look good; only one eye, no nose. Then he cuss | —say must, Den Eagle say no—’cause you my brud- dex now, since you —Night-walker he say yes. He git killed, den—sure. no more be Blackfoot chief. Night-walker’s braves ey tek bot’ squaw an’ chief--tie ‘em to tree—den we Den we fight, mebbe. tell white brave lift rock ‘way. | Dat make Eagle outlaw— | Dat why Eagle he say no—won't tek you after | Creeping Panther.” ; “Then let me go by myself. If you are really teful for me saving your life, I pray you give me Beaten: let me go back to my friends!”’ “Where frien’s?’’ quickly demanded Pethonista. “I don’t know—but I wil] find them. Only let me eo" frighten me!”? murmured Ada, shrinking “Lis’n. Eagle frien’—no en’my—no want to skeer squaw. He chief—no got crooked tongue. What he say, dat straight, Pethonista take you dere. He swear it by Great sharma you call God,” earnestly replied the *kfoot. There was something in the young chief's tone | point of light. Yet this only served to confirm the chief’s suspicions that his | brethren were even then creeping upon the doomed train. What had silenced the querulous yelping of eoyotes that nightly surround a camp, rendering night hideous with their howling, snapping cries? A score of coyotes will surround a Sounded buffalo, in diabolical concert. But, let a huge gray or black wolf appear, and they draw off, dumbly sitting upon their haunches, patiently waiting for the remnants of the feast. More than once Pethonista had known them to show the same deference to the two-legged wolves, and he believed *twas the case now. With an uneasy glance at Ada’s light-colored dress, he crept noiselessly on toward the faint twinkling The maiden imitated his example as closely as possible. They had crossed nearly two-thirds of the distance without seeing or hearing anything beyond the com- | mon, when suddenly the full moon sailed from be- Tell me where you los’ frien’s. | neath a dense cloud, pouring a flood of silver light over the scene. A cry of peat rose to thought the Eagle's broad paim. rested upon them | and foreibly held her close to the ground. that told Ada he was not seeking to deceive her, and | ra moment's hesitation she described, as near- ly as she was able, the pass through which the trail led. The chief’s face brightened, for he easily recog- nized the description. “All right now—me know dat place—dey stop at ring, where water plenty fo’ hosses. We find um ien’s dere, Den you know dat Eagle no lie—dat him heart open to pale squaw.”’ “Can you—will you take me to them?” eagerly eried Ada. “And right away fan walk very far and fast. And they can save Minnie—on horseback they can overtake that dark man!’’ “Yeh—me tek you. Don’t know ‘bout. ketchin’ Creeping Panther—he good scout—kin hide like “snake. Den mebbe yow’ frien’s have plenty work- han’s full, You hear him say—strike pale-faces to- night? Dat mean Blackfoot want scalp. Tek ‘em, too—dey fight like debble, when see blood in dere ek yours, too—don’t know squaw from brave, when mad. Wacle like you hegp—he you’ /rien’. Me tink you bes’ hide in rocks till "nudder day. Den, if Blackfeet don’t tek all scalp, you kin go to frien’s. "Tf do—den Eagle he t’ink some odder way save you.” “No—take me to them, as you promised, If they are fated tobe murdered, why should I live? Ihave no other friends—I must share their fate.” **Wasle no lie—he do what you tell. But hesorry men sorry. Squaw no good when dead,” slowly said the chief, betraying a dezree of emotion seldom exhibited by a brave. “ Kacle know where Night-walker stop—know trail he take to git to pale-faces. Den bes’ we tek nud- Ger trail. If meet Injun, den Eagle have to say you his captive, or dey kill squaw, plenty quick, cause dey not my braves. Don't like Eagle much —Night-walker’s braves,” tersely added Pethonista, ashe took Ada’s hand and left the spot ina direc- -I am strong now—l | tion nearly opposite to that taken by Mat Mole and | ie. . The trail they were forced to follow was long and tortious, rough and almost impassab!e for a woman, more especially when so nearly exhausted as Ada, Despite her feverish anxiety to reach the train that men might be at once sent in pursuit of Minnie’s abductor, she was forced frequently to pause to take | breath. Nothing-but an unusually strong will kept her from breaking down prem Fi though the Eagle lent her all the assistance in his power, short of carry. her in his arms. Sines sunset, the sky had suddenly become over- cast with clouds, broken and fast-scudding, yet | ‘dense enough to almost entirely shut out the light of moon and stars. Thus groping through dark- ness, d ; Pethonista was forced to advance cautiously, lest a misstep should precipitate him into one of the man ne “man-traps”’ that lay upon either hand. it was that they did not reach level—compara- tivedy—ground again until nearly midnight. A,few minutes afterward, Pethonista suddenly d, with a contemptuous grunt, as he uttered: “See—dere you’ frien’s—by spring. Big fools, dough! Tink Blackfoot need fire to see how lift Ada gave a fae of joy. Before them—though still nearly a mile distant—she could just distinguish the faint gleam of a camp-fire. Beyond a doubt it was, as the chief said, the camp of her friends. No Tndian would have set up such a beacon in an enemy's country. +» “Thank God! at last! Oh, hasten—hasten! I must tell them about poor Minnic.”’ “Too fast—too slow; both bad. Don't know— mebbe Injun out dere hunting for scalps. Plenty room—dark hide ’em. We run, dey hear steps,—go f ' slow—creep like snake, den no hear, no see—squaw through all right. Dat my talk,” interrupted Pe- ta. “But you—I am afraid to go alone now, since you think tliere are Indians there,” faltered Ada. “No go ‘lone—Eagle go, too. Not inside cam dat bad, ‘cause pale-face Eagle’s en’my, too. ut Anus’n’t. be scare’, Mus’, be quick, eunning, en. : h trembling with fear and exhaustion, Ada w the senso of Pethonista’s sey, and endeav- _ ered to conquer her weakness. Crouching down like he ping in wait for its prey, Pethonista lig ‘ ite his thorough knowledge of the ground, | puaw ; iemce likesnake. Mebbe no Injun—mebbe not git | : Bote Mus’ act like dey was, dough; sure not git | | number, riding along at a slow pace, over a rocky, | : 2 bares | was with has made allies of the Blackfeet, that I we The level befcre and upon both sides of them was dotted with scores of dark, oblong figures. Not one moved, not one gave the slightest indication of being other. than inanimate objects, but Pethonista well knew that they were Blackfoot warriors, thirsting for blood; that they had been stealing up to the camp, when the flood of moonlight caused them to lie motioness and still as stones. The wagons were drawn up. into a °corral-like shape, seemingly close against the wall of rock. The only evidence of life was in that tiny fire, built close outside the row of vehicles. Then the tableau changed like magic. A single jet of flame issued from the corral—a loud, clear voice uttered a defiant shout that mingled strangely with the shrill, unearthly scream as one of the dark figures leaped convulsively into the air, then falling, tore and bit the hard ground in its death-agony. As though this was the signal for which they were awaiting, the crawling serpents changed to bound- ing cougars as they sprung forward to the attack, yelling, screeching, shouting—the mingled war-cries of both red. and white savages. Again that clear shout from the corral—and. the dark line seemed fairly grilled with fire, as twenty rifles vomited forth their contents, hurling death and confusion into the oncoming mass of demons. The savages hesitated—faltered—their yells of ex- pectant triumph changed to cries of surprise. A cheer went up from the corral. The emigrants believed the victory won. That sound turned the scale. The savages pressed madly forward. eyes. They thought no longer of themselves—paid no heed to the storm of revolver bullets that saluted them—dashed on- with deep, snarling cries, deter- mined to crush the hated invaders who had stricken them such a deadly blow. Pethonista leaped erect at the first shot, his chest dilating, his eyes glowing, every muscle working, his magnificent form aH ina tingle as the hatchet flashed from his girdle. The wild, thrilling war-cry that had caused many a bold foeman’s heart to beat | was to alarm the as to render their arrows nearly useless, though one white man fell, bullet-pierced. The Indians charged boldly—their evident bn, ale-faces into seeking safety flight, when the nimble-footed braves could pick them off in detail, bothered as they would be with their horses. But, though well enough intended, | the plan failed, since the pale-faces, instead of gi way in confusion, leaped from their animals sought cover behind the nearest bowlders, then marked down the savages as rapidly as a bead could be ae upon any of the rapidly-flitting, dusky bodies, Such was the sight witnessed by Yellowstone Jack and his comrades upon the afternoon of that event- ful June day. They did not hesitate long. One of the parties, besides being much the more numerous, was their hereditary enemy, the Blackfoot Indians: ‘Tt reckon we'd better make it a free fight, boys,” | quietly uttered Yellowstone, gliding rapidly forward, Ada’s lips, but quick as . Blood was in their | “charging” border fashion, by keeping securely covered while rapidly nearing the foe. ms His comrades were nowise loth, and kept close af Yellowstone's heels, Not five minutes were used in getting within range, and then the four trappers each selected his prey. Then, mingling their pecu- liar war-cries with the still reverberating echoes, the hunters charged. This attack in the rear threw the Indians into mo- mentary confusion, and almost before they could re- alize the truth the trappers wére in their midst, rap idly emptying their revolvers, leaving a trail of blood behind them» Nor were the whites much less astonished. ‘Rhey stared at the daring men, forget. ting to use their weapons, “Sock it to ’em, lads!’’ yelled Yellowstone, langh- ing shrilly and tossing his long hair back as an ar row tore through the tangled locks, grazing the skin of his cheek. “Me, too—Jack, the varmints hes throwed mel* gasped Gila Hank) the leveled pistol-falling from his hand, as he reeled back, a feathered shaft quivering deep in his chest. Yellowstone Jack caught the dying man upon his left arm, and with a snarling cry, sent a revolver bullet through the throat of the Indian who had sped the fatal arrow. ** Don’t let ‘em. git my skelp,’’ faintly breathed the ( dying trapper, his eyes closing, the blood gushing from his lips. “They. must take mine fust! Brindle—Hoosier— Stan’ fast—sock it to *em!”’ hyar. they come! The Biackfeet, seeing the fall of one of the dare- devils, seemed to forget their first foes, and with ex) ultant yells, rushed upon the three men, seemi bent upon crushing. them to the ground with mere weight of numbers. Standing, The defiant yell of the trappers replied. | around the stricken man they met the assault brave- quicker broke from his lips, and he seemed about to: | join in the charge. But a little hand clutched his ankle—a tremblin voice besought his protection. Aud as he looke down and-saw the pale, terrified countenance, the fire gradually died out of his face, He remembered his sledge. Fierce warrior though he was, he could not orget that. He glanced toward the corral. The Indians and their white-skinned allies had just reached it. And then the moon sailed beneath another cloud; all be- low was cast into a dense gloom. Yet the foemen, though standing so close to each other, held their | blows fora moment. They gazed upward in mute amazement, A shrill, eldritch peal of laughter came to. their ears. Standing upon the very pinnacle of the hill, was a weird figure—a smaller form crouching at her feet, with arms outstretched toward the wagon-train, Again that maniacal came down from the diz itself. And the struggle was renewed. Pethonista caught Ada up in his arms and ran swiftly across the point of rocks. Passing round this, he deposited her upon the ground, beneath an over- y hight; then the moon hid eal, and a few shrill words | hanging rock, bidding her keep perfectly still until he | returned. Then he sounded his war-cry and hasten- | ed to the fray, as a lover hastens to his bridal. Ada covered eyes and ears seeking to drown the devilish sounds, but in vain. Then, worn out, terror- stricken, she must have swooned. or hours had elapsed, she never knew, when rude hands seized her. A hideous. face—burning eyes and gloating look; this much she saw—and then felt herself clasped to a broad breast and borne swiftly on through the night, CHAPTER X. THE LOST TRAIL, : A Party of horsemen, whites, about a dozen in | difficult trail; nearly twice. as many Indians, in all their hatred, opened the savage glory of war-paint and feathers, crouch- ing behind a pile of bowlders beside the winding trail; some distance off, ina ravine where they were scarce- ly hidden from the white men's sight, were-a number of mustangs. The whites abruptly drew rein. they suspected some trap, or had observed some- thing suspicious. The Indians, unable to restrain fire, taough at sucha distcs- | Whether minutes | | you this much. Beyond a doubt | ly. Mingled with the revolver reportu, came @& sharper, louder detonation, and a tall brave who was leveling a blow at Yellowstone Jack, fell back, dead, Aloud, fierce shout drowned all other s6 and a tall, lithe figure leaped into the very midst the Indians. One hand plied a long, heavy knife, the other clasped a revolver, whose every report sound- ed the death-knell of an enemy. 4 A dread fear seemed to ago the Indians fora moment. 'Then they broke and fled, with cries of dismay, mingled with a name that had often caused ** Pacanne-puchk-on-che-luk!* ; But they were not to escape so easy. The enmai- grants had, by this time, recovered from their double surpriseyand as the savages broke, they were met upon every side. sacre. Then half a dozen of the Blackfeet sueceed- | edin cutting their way free, and gaining their ani- mals, fled with the speed of veces . Vernon Campbell quictly reloaded his weapons, and then picking out the braves who had fallen be- eo his hand, he stripped them of the : rophy. ; ellowstone Jack, after trying in vain to discover some traces of life in the body of his fallen comrade, strode up to the young scout with extended hand. ‘Putt it thar, boss! You’re a hull train, wi’ a yal- ler deg under the wagon to boot! From the very way you putt in the double licks, I don’t wonder ‘at the varmints mistook you fer the Blood-Drinker.” Pca! call me that, sometimes,’’ was the quiet reply. ay is You ain’t—thunder! a young feller like you—” “Tam old enough to have won that name from my_ enemies—and I am proud of it, too, since it shows that I have drank deep of the vengeance I swore te take for my murdered kindred.” The three trappers looked at the young man with feelings somewhat akin to awe. John Warren ap- proached and started to thank the men who had come so opportunely to his assistance. Campbell abruptly checked him. ; “Spare your thanks, sir—I did not attack those curs through any friendship for you, Inc , if, as I believe, you belong to the wagon-train that passed over this trail to-day, I have een aiding your worst enemies ever since you left the settlements.” ** My enemies—and yet—” stammered Warren. “T don’t mean Indians—it is because the Y I hate them—my whole life is de- voted to slaying them whenever we meet. But that pass. You are in danger. The Blackfeet be upon you to-night. Your only chance is to corral your wagons and fight them to the last, unless peed wish to abandon but your horses, and their speed to carry you beycud pursuit, ’* **Thar’s Fatty Smith to pay fer, yitP™) i ; eal terror to Blackfeet hearts of late years. Ne. For a few minutes it was a mas ‘ist Le ; rhe * heal tM 4; i i eh of rs “a iy ‘ any , vi a at Rp iy. ¢ * in te | des STi a on, oe 2y had 24 ee bg As ae ara, a . act 1 : tee wil th it ita ety ra) ahh 5 ey ey, fond ve wey “tai 4) Pat a] ‘ } cy hae vine : ef ah tas Vay ‘$ he 7m ¥ ¥ UN * A i Se oe ee i" uve a Fe ih =* = nf @ } a i PY \ as ¢ >To
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‘mies? You have told me too much, young man, not to sa, more,” added Warren, suspiciously, Bah | how can you make me tell more than I wish to admit of my own free will? death? Don’ “stranger, or you'll get hurt.” sneered Campbell. “We're losin’ time, boss,’’ put in Chris Camp, un- easily. “The wimmen may be in danger.” man?’ abruptly demanded Campbell of the emi- grant. | “*Yes—my daughter and niece. away with—” “They are safe enough, old man, though they had ‘a@narrow escape. Wait—you can ask questions af- terward. I tell you they are safe enough, If you an- 7) that may be of use to you. First, do you know any- | thing of a man named Mat Mole; middle-sized, black ') bair, eyes and beard, hook-nose, rather good-look- > ing, about forty years old?” ‘ *No—i don’t recognize the description.”’ “Vou have a brother in California, who wrote for ie you to come out there, to join him in business?” >= “Yes, but how could you know this? I—” “T do know it—that’s enough. Listen now, and mark what I tell you, This Mole is your deadly / enemy. He has followed you from Omaha, with a band of land-pirates. I acted as their guide, because * I knew we would see something of the Blackfeet. Do you think I fear | try to ride over me, rough-shod, | ! j Beadle’s Half-Dime : Library. ag ) so to speak. You lent me a mule-kick. My head's | Loan my han’ tremb'les, an’ I don’t reckon I could fetch out your hull style as I'd wish. Onless | you’re pressin’, we'll wait a bit—say ontel mornin’,”’ drawled Chris Camp. “Right you air! One thing fust—I fergot you'd promeesed old Gopher—Groundhog—whatever’s the | varmint’s name—to spile these fellers’ powder,” | “You are looking for two ladies—and a young | They were run swer my questions freely, then I'll tell yousomething | laughed the trapper. “Some folks Fi say a man was a durned fool to go an’ drive the nails in his own coffin—but you don’t ‘pear to think so, Yellowstone Jack,’’ and the uide smiled again—a peculiar, sickly smile that »0ded danger. “Come,” impatiently interrupted Warren, ‘‘you can settle this quarrel some other time—or now, if you wish, but we can’t stop to see it. If there is any truth in what that man said, we have no time to lose here. He said you men would know the way to this upper pass, Is there any nearer way than by going along this pass, then up the other?” “Not fer hosses. I'll show ye the way, ef so be you'll wait long enough fer us to plant poor Heely fank hyar, whar the reds won't stum’le over his | top-knot.” | wounded, )) We have driven you from the right trail, by false | man Mole has in your cainp. To-day Mole was joined by a Land of Blackfeet; that’s why I have de- ‘gerted him.. To-right thoy mean to attack you, » You will tind ai your spare ammunition destroyed, e, who calls himself—” /“Wasy thar, old man—you’re -wuss’n a rattler, f&eshakes his tail afore he strikes!” yelled Yellow- stone Jack, .nd a.man was hurled/headloug at the » young scout’s feet, a long knife flying before the ) quiveriug form. * Brindle—Hoosier—close up! He saved our ba- “con—of these chaps mean to bounce ‘im, they must take us fust! Sock it to ’em!” added Jack, spring- ? ie 5 - baeked up vy his comrades. 'The emigrauts started back and drew their wea- _ pons. Fora moment th re seemed a fair prospect ; anotler duel to the death, only between those of ihe sain’ color. Sf What ’d 42 mean, by tryin’ to stick the young Bellow here? Wrom bebiud, too—the pizen snake!” 7“Tt's tru,” observed Russel. ‘1 saw it all.” “Wal, utteved Campbell. ‘This man must be » @he guid: I spoxe of. Noue other could have any motive for stopping my tongue. If so, his name is “ § Camp.” ¢ “That is his name; but he came to us well recom- rice so—from Mol », Who signe himself Cap- - Hordiny, U. 5. A.,"’ sneered the youug “Bi there—I have warned you; heed it or »t please. Yo. wil find your triends either | by o your waous, or at the bead of the I left them there two hours since, # leat usithers? 1 will pay you—” ior revenge, not pays T Good-by, now, ’ and Campbell strode rap- : Vd stop him,” muttered Warren, doubt- i ton’t half like his story.” us walk over me an’ my pards, then, ))sily returned Jac “He saved our ha’r, +y fa’r play, ef it cos's a lawsuit. Treekon * look to that suake yender, I hit him jhead’s harder *u a nigger’s.”’ p bad partialiy recovered from the heavy oy Yellowsto.+ Jack’s iron fist, and hur- the kuife thio hal fallen from his vis this moveinent that drew forth the daiubio. is: aed in doubt what do to. The words jar, added to the scout’s attempt upon uads Sole jimpression upon his mind, uion of ueac.y ali tue emigrants. It did wSible buat uévould be such a double-dis- ‘ty bue Wie wiose bread he ate. vas *t hit me? growled Caiop, glarin jou the littie party, aa evillicsitin bis blood- ‘\ Baro’l..) / @bot e. Py) “You sccdu’t look uo furier *n me,” promptly re- ae ed Yellowstou . “I ino ye—jest us I would ary suc as [ see.t cyawlin’ up ahind a man to ) Strike ‘in vubeknowa, hoc. Ef a feller wants to be © 80 Pize@a wisan, he ain’. wail vein’ treated like a hu- oman criivcr.”” ’ debis—I uv, vo!” p hie “T jent ye the lick out 0’ pure love, old pizenness, Vd do.a heap fer ye, I've taken sech atancy fer yer in- 7) perceni-loosia wnug; 1 hev, so. Bat yi, Pm ‘com- -moda:in’ to tiny ‘F you acne 3 you oP me any- thin’, now's y’ur-chainee to settle. Rifle, peeps, or buteher—a-critter-back or afoot, white Ag tp fie or Injun fashion—jest say the word, and Yellow- Jack’ll\do the best he kuows to make it inter- a ’ fer ye.” . “Not now; I said I kin wait. You look like you ‘was a man. I'd like to do ye as nigh justice as I _ Woukin’t ’sult ye by fightin’ ye at hafe-cock— * ing before Campbell, with drawn weapons, promptly | { aud wagon, tivugh, are at the bottom |} tit is had played Ais part so well as to gain | signs, which were raad to you, as we intended, by a | “That is to be the work of Mole’s man, your false | fer | » “Wahuitdo you mean?” demanded Warren, of Jack. | ese hunters can | | groaned with agony, and nearly fell from | on fresh’ snow. | mented Yellowstone Jack. ‘Make haste, then, I'll ride on to the train and see if they have got back. If they have, I'jl send word to you where the canyon divides.” Warren rode rapidly away, and the emigrants busied themselves in looking after their dead and Three had been killed—making four with Gila Hank, the Trapper. They were all single men, since Minnic and Ada were the only women accom- yanying the train, and so it was deemed best to ury them where they had fallen, rather than to carry them to the wagons, *Tt's rom’h lines on us, boys,” said Yellowstone Jack, sadly, as they composed the limbs of the dead trapper in a deep cleft in the rocks. rubbed out in one day—hafe of ow party in a week. *Pears like this was goin’ to be a costly trip fer us.” ‘Hank went under like a true mountain man, jest as he’d wished fer this many a year. He made his coup fust. I don’t reckon the varmints ‘ll hev much to brag on, when all’s counted. But thar was Chavez —he didn’t die right. I’m dub’ous his sperrit ‘Il ha’nt us,’? muttered Brindle Joe, “Not ef J kin help it. To-morrer I'll take the trail —I'll try that witch-spook—whatever the critter is —an’ see ef. I cain’t rest pore Mexy, Ef Lkin borrer a silver dollar, to run up, I'll be all right,” said Yel- lowstone, thoughtfully. “Goin’ to jime in wi’ these fellers? Ef what that feller—the Blood-Drinker—said is true, I thar’s goin’ to be the tallest kind o’ fun round hyar ‘fore long.”’ ‘* af they needs it, Hoosier, mebbe we'll lend ‘em a hand—-but not inside their durned corral. I fights free, 7 does.”’ **Whar’s that Jack,’ demanded Brindle Joe. *“Yender he goes—give me—too late! He’s under kiver. So much fer bein’ a durned fool! Ef I’d hed my way, he'd ‘a’ croaked ‘fore this. Wal, theyll hev oné more to fight, that’s all,” disgustedly cried Yel- lowstone, as he saw the form of the traitor guide vanish amcng the rocks. Chris Camp had ingleed slipped away while the men were busy with their dead. Pursuit was idle, considering the route he had chosen, and the party at once entered the pass. At the division they met Warren, who spurred up, pale and breathless: Nothing had been seen or heard of the women, and dreading the worst, the party rode on through the upper pass. hey saw blood-marks, traces of what might have been a death-struggle, but nothing more. Ng's 1is yizen snake—the critter you hit, **T don't see him—”’ animal. : * Don’t take on so, boss,’ said Yellowstone, sooth- ingly. ‘‘Mebbe they're all right yit, an’ hyar’s me an’ my mates is ready to take the trail—or ruther to huut for the one we've lost—an’ ef they’re above airth, we'll find em. Meantime you'd better go look to the wagons, for you'll smell burnt powder afore mornin’, sure. Corral them by the spring, under the rocks, an’ keep good watch, ef you want to see day- light ag*in.”’ “I'll pay you—I have money--” ““Wait ontel we do the sob 08 stay; ef you hev a } tahel dollar—thanks ! Now go—the sun’s most own.’ Warren finally yielded, and rode back to the wagons, CHAPTER XI SCOUTING AND FIGHTING. “T RECKON I’m up a stump, fer once,” grunted Brindle Joe, disgustedly rubbing his head, owl couldn’t foller a trail now, even a’ter ‘twas found, which this ’ne ain’t, by a pesky sight!” “°F these gal critters ‘d on’y wore shoes like the hosses—but thar ain’t enough on ’em to make a trail I reckon we're played, boys,”’ com- “*T’'ve got a idee, mebbe ‘tain’t wuth much; I don’t let on to be much a’count, onless it is of a trail. But I don’t reckon thar’s anythin’ else we kin do, sence the varmints ain’t a-goin’ to trouble the train fer some hours yit, anyhow? What say, boys?” ‘‘Reckon you'd better let us see this idee, fust; then mebbe we kin tell better,’ dryly observed Hoosier. ‘*Was thinkin’—but thar, You heerd what that feller said—him as called hisself the Blood-Drinker, Yuu kin tell es well es me whether he was lyin’ or no. You kin see, too, that somethin’ has gone over the ridge o’ the kenyon hyar. Mebbe it’s only the hoss-critters—~mebbe the gal-eritters eA | cried Yellowstone. | ment. was in the wagon. Thar’s on’y one way to settle that—by takin’ a look where the outfit stopped. It’s too dark now to look further fer a trail on these rocks: We kin go up the kenyon to a point whar we kin git down it, take a look at what thar is b’low hyar, an’ git back in plenty time to take a hand in whatever fun thar'll be goin’ on at the train yender.”’ “Sound hoss sense, an’ well put, Brindle Jne,”’ “T reckon I know the right trail; come on,” Indeed, there seemed nothing else that could pos- sibly be accomplished that night. For over an hour past the three trappers had been closely Me the ground in the vicinity of the upper pass, withou success. The flinty wet sod retained no footprints. The perilous trail followed by the fugitives had beem overlooked, for the trappers could not know that a Blackfoot chief had been guiding them, and there seemed scarce footing for a cat below the escarp- They began to doubt the truth of what rage oy had told them—to believe that the depths of se canon contained the eorpses of those they sought. Yellowstone Jack led the way, proceeding rapidly, for a considerable detour must be made before they could reach a point where a desgent into the canon was possible. And, despite the inere losses they had sustained, not one of the trio but was anxious to take part in the anticipated conflict at the corraled wagons, Somebody burnin’ pojvder,"’ cuddenly uttered Yel lowstone, The report of a rifle rang ont upon the evening air, its reverberation awakening a thousand echoes | among the hills, until one could fancy the skirmjsh- | ing line of an entire army at its deadly work. | trappers tried to settle the point from whenge “Two boys | reckon | shot proceeded, but in vain. The thousand &@hoes completely bewildered them, and a few moments later they resumed their course, It was this shot that hurled Frank Maynard dowm the canon. For nearly an hour the trappers pressed on, with- out further interrapt’ vit then Yellowstone leaped quickly aside, « ching behind a bowlder, hissing: “ Cache, boys, there's a varmint just ahead!” ‘** Rasy, friends,’ promptly replied a clear, not un- musical voice, from the gloom beyond, “ There’s ne quarrel between us, that | l:mow of.” Ep leg air you, then?’ demanded | Yellowstone ack, “A friend to all those who are not in league with the accursed Blackfeet. You saw me to-day when your comrade was rubbed out,” “The feller what called hisself the Blood-Drinker —but don t trust him ¢oo fur,” muttered Brindle Joe. “FP you're alone, step out, [reckon we've got a | crow to pick wi’ you,” added Yellowstone, uncock- ing his rifle. “Tam alone, but I’m not afraid to trust you I set you down for true men, to-day, and I’m not | often deceived in a man,” quietly said Campbell, ad- vancing. ‘“‘Wolks is sometimes peskily bad fooled. Yow don't look like your tongue was crooked, yit you put us nn a false trail to-day,’’ dryly replied Yellowstone ack. “There is some mistake here—”’ ** Jest what J thort—a blamed big one, too. Didn* you say you left them gal-critters all safe? Then whar be they? They ain't whar you said, nor at the emigrant camp,” “*T told you the truth. ‘I saved them from be dashed into the canon, by shooti one of th horses. They were all right whenI left them, Be- sides, I warned them of the presence of enemies. It may be that they have been captured. These hills are swarming with their enemies, both pale-faces and Blackfeet.” ‘‘Look here—you say you've quit these fellers)!”’ “*Yos—they have banded with my deadly enemies, the Blackfeet. For ten years past I have never miss- ed an opportunity of taking a Blackfoot’s scalp; is it likely, then, that I would fight with and for them, now?"’ ‘““Will you lend us a hand, then?” bluntly asked Yellowstone. “To what way?” ‘We was goin’ to take a look in the kenyon—" “That would be a waste of time. Those you seek are not there, If they have not reached their friends, then some of Mole’s men, or some.of the Blackfeet I will do better. I will show you their camp.” **T don’t know much about ye, stranger. You talk slick enough, an’ I’d hate to think 0’ you as a traitor, But thar’ll be three feilers nigh to ye, who're tol’able quick on the trigger, an’ who kin hit the bigness of a man when it’s cluss enough,” slowly uttered the trapper. a or am I used to such threats. I don’t ask to trust me, You need not accept my offer osbee you choose,” coldly replied Campbell, “-P you mean right, thar’s no ‘fense intended. What say, boys? Shall we go wi’ bim?” “You kin trust. him—a feller lyin’ don't talk that a-way,’’ promptly ey Brindle Joe. and Hoosier in- timated a similar belief. “Come, then; the trail is a roundabout one and coyotes will soon be Sac se, up to surround prey,” tersely added Campbell, the way, ata “ pace. hough the sun had set clear, the heavens were rapidly becoming ov reast, and the moon onby shone forth at raie intervals, Vernon Cam: have captured them, well he knew the coun and even the well trappers were forced re es fat h as b the way with acelerity and promptness that bd 5 ae
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a Pethonista and Ada. ——— — —-- ' - eee - - ans More like a bodiless phantom than substantial flesh | blood, Just as he gained the entrance to the little valley in which we first beheld the outlaw band, Campl sell, with a warning gesture, sunk quietly down behind a large bowlder. He was closely imitated by the (rap- rs, who had also caught the muffled sound of orses’ hoofs, Lying thus, within ten feet of the narrow trail, the four scouts ciuéched their weapons, resolved to strike gone blow béfore death, in case they should be dis- covered. Riding two abreast, the horsemen filed past, speak- ing ndt a word, only a dull trampling sound betraying their passage, for their animals’ hoofs had been muffled. And the scouts lay thre outlined against the gray rocks, scarce daring to b:eathe, lest the sound should betray their presence. The edge of the swiftly-moving cloud grew lighter and lighter; still the shadowy riders glided by like geome never-ending chain, With the first at Be oy discovery «would be inevitable, unless—thank God! they are past! ot one moment too soon—the silvery rays of the moon alrealy outline the prostrate figures, But the night-riders do not glance back—they pass on, bent npon their mission of death and plunder. * A close shave,” muttered Campbell, with a long breath. ‘‘ But a miss is as good as a mile. Andnow the trail is open to us—though I fear we will have little reward for our trouble. I counted them as they rode by, and 1 don’t believe any were left behind at the camp. If so, and there were no captives with | them just now, I ain puzzled to. guess what has hap- pened to your friends.” “Waal sence we've come this far, reckon we'd bet- | ae e° on an’ make sure,’’ interposed Yellowstone ack. “Keep close to me, then. The camp is—or was— close by, in the grove, yonder.” Half an hour later the scouts stood within the de- serted cam}, moodily eying the few dying embers. A thorough scout through the valley left no room for doubt. The allied outlaws and Blackfeet had left, apparently for good, and had taken their cap- tives with them, if any they had. “Tt’s useless looking for a trail or to waste time in fying to read signs on such anight asthis. Besides, wing late, and the fun will open up over — er before long. We can do no good here—per- rf we can be of use to these emigrants.” ‘ b) 8 poor manners to open a new trail afore the old one’s wound up—but I don't see what else we kin do. an’ ‘Il need all the Mas | they kin git ef the lot we seed all do thar best. reckon you're right, boss.” | words that she forgot all else, and strove to comfort | Besides, they'll be kinder lookin’ fer us, | | lips, and two bony Without any more words the scouts retraced their | steps, and were soon gliding along through the deep | a using all possible caution to avoid running to the enemy, at times forced to pause until the moon again hid itself beneath a cloud, lest the keen- savages should glance back and discover them. Suddenly they found themselves almost in the midst of alot of mustangs, who snorted and pawed the ground suspiciously. These had been abandoned by é Indians and outlaws when the scout sent in vance brought in their report. Though the wagons were parked, everything was quict in the camp, and the usual fires had been lighted. Hoping to rise the emigrants, the savages had dismount- ed, leaving their animals unguarded, though secure- | ly tied to the rocks around. The scouts ulekely understood this, and Yellow- stone was in favor of stampeding the herd, but bell demurred. “That would spoil our plans, don’t you see? The reds would know then that the whites had friends at hand, and would be on their guard. As it is, when they are at it, hot and heavy, we will come down on with revolvers, and as we've all got pretty sound lungs, we can make ’em believe they're at- ed by a regiment.”’ “Your head’s level, old man! Ireckon I'll Yellowstone.Jack, in a tone of adniiration. pbell still led the way, and a few minutes more of cautious creeping carried them out of t@ pass and into the broac, level space before the cor- ral, Crouching beside a bowlder, they patiently waited for the moon to show itself, in order to ee an accurate idea of thc enemy's position. ey were not kept long in suspense. The light came, revealing to them the same sight that so astonished Then came the single shot from the wagons—the clear, defiant shout, mingled with the death-shriek of the stricken savage—the wild, charging ay of the enemy as they darted forward—and then the with- ering volley—the e sight upon the peak; and then tlw moon hid itself once more, as though loth to fore upon such a terrible scene. ‘ close to me—not a word until I shout; then I knuckle under— in for all you’re worth!” hurgiedly muttered | pbell. . The men glided rapidly forward. They had not noticed the weird being above, and were puzzled by the abrupt — Le oe: fi hg momentary—then the ho e death-struggle for on ot the barrier was resumed. E Aclear, trumpet-like vo'ce rose hich above the devilish din, and carried a thrill of terror into the Blackfeet hearts. One of their number fell, pierced with arifie-shot. Then a wild cheer, long and seem- com of many voices, arose, and a death- ies through their crowded a The av was upon them! a very fien Compoel leaped into nobly seconded by Yellowstone and his They rained death from every side, but But this was only | | drifted on forever in that land of dreams! Yellowstone’ “ack. A cry of terror went u» from the savages, and as with one accord the; bro ce and fied, the white out laws ips pg imita ed their example. But, close upon their heels trod avenger, terribly vindicat- ing his name and reputation. CHAPTER XII. THE SACRIFICE Wir a strength and ac'ivity that was. htt), short of marvelous, the weird woman, still holding the half-senseless maiden in her arms, glided rapidly away from the spot where lay the still quivering form of Mat Mole. Turning aside trom the plain trail, she breasted the steep incline, leaping from point to point with the activity and sure foot of a mountain goat, or lightly scaled the piles of oroken rock, seem- ingly gifted with the powers of ¢. cat, in more senses than one. Abruptly she paused, allowing Minnie to sink to the cold rock beside her. Leaning upon the heavy staff that had stricken Mat Mole senseless, the weird woman stared fixedly before her, into the dense gloom. Minnie stirred uneasily. in a measure, broken the ¢pell that had fallen over her mind. She stared wildly around. She could barely distinguish the form of her strange captor, and might probably have taken it for another of the The shock of her fall had, | fantastic rock piles taat stood upon every side, only | for the words that dropped unconsciously from the weird woman’s lips. “Speak plainer—how can I understand when you whisper so low? It makes my head hurt—my brain whirland dauce and ring—yes, it rings now! I ean hear the bell—Dolly wore it—my cow. That was be- fore I died—when 1 was happy with jim! Ah! why don’t vou speak cleai —andI see it now! A snake! see it crawl—it comes nearer—it touches me—it winds about me—ah! “Tis a snake—slimy and hideous, but wears his head—tbe devil who killed me! Down—down! Ha! ha! you creep in the dust—your head is bruised and bleeding —like my heart!" The weird women dealt fierce blows upon the rock with her staff, then sunk suddenly back, with a low eet of intense suffering, both hands pressed to her reast, you are hissing like a snake | | Minnie had been a terrified witness of her raving, | but there was such a tone of suffering in the last the weird woman. ** You are il—can T help you?” she faltered. There seemed a magic in the words. The woman’s tremblings ceased, a low, grating ery broke from her j hands clutched the maiden’s shrinking figure, drawing her forcibly forward, until their faces nearly caine in contact. The weird woman's eyes filled with a phosphorescent light that i to. burn deep down into the terrified girl’s brain. * Now I understand—now I know what my good master meant! Hesays sacrifice—sacrifice! Thatis why he has sent you to me—I can read his sign | stamped upon your forehead. It tells me that you must die. Come—don’t you hear him calling? He will be angry if I delay. And then he will put an- other queen over my head,” muttered the weird | woman, lifting Minnie to her feet. ““Mercy—mercy! do not murder me! Spare me— I am too young to die!” moaned the terrified "maiden. “Too young—t was young once. Young, loved and fair to look upon. Yet I died—yes, I died—yes, Idied! He killed me. He made me sleep first— where I had such bright, blissful dreams—where all seemed love and happiness—where his voice sounded like the softest music—his features those of an an- gel. Ah, had it only lasted—could we have only But that was not to be. Something broke the spell. The music was the chorus of drunken devils—and then | his mask fell off—it was the horrible head of a ser- jest. call you boss all the time!” said | pent that Isaw. And then J died—yes, 1 must have | died, because I never saw him again—for whom I gave up my immortal soul. The serpent came in- stead—slimy and loathsome. turns round and round and mixes the words all up. I can't tell what came next—only I know that he killed me. He struck me on the head—here,” and | the weird woman east Minnie’s finger into a deep furrow upon her “That's what makes it so light. Sometimes I have to tie it down to the rocks, to keep it from flying ’way off up there—where the bright star shines. Those are the times that my master comes to me—and we go fioating all over the world, noting down the names of his new slaves. Tis glorious sport! He talks plain, then, while now he only whispers—ha! you hear? He says saerifice— Se / Tama queen, but he is my master and I must obey his commands.” “Tis only the wind that howls through the hills—”’ “Hal ha! pote, silly fool—to think to deceive me —think you I know not the difference between his voice and the muttering of the wind? No, no—ye want to escape me and make him angry—you think that he will make you queen of this land, over my head, then. But I say no, you must go when he With a low, grating laugh, the weird woman dragged the maiden forward a few steps, then paused, holding her erect with that wonderful strength sO many maniacs are gifted with, despite Minnie’s desperate struggles to free herself; and then, exhausted, the poor girl lay half senseless in the weird woman's vice-like “Look! yonder is my master—he is waiting for you! See him floating in the air below us? tis @ good sign, Cease your —there fs nothing And then—my head | } to fear. He is in a good humor to-night—see him | smile—he does not mean that you should die—he will catch you as you fall. Perhaps he has need of another queen—yeés! see! he hokis a crown for hee Tis smaller than mine—but that is just, since Lam his favorite vassal. I command you!” ¥ ““Mercy—have pity on me! I can see nothing, nothing but death!’ moaned the poor girl. : : “Then—but no—he motions for me to wait. The — moon is just coming from under that black cloud. He means for me to wait until you can see what'the | future has in stove. Stand up—he hates cowards,” ~ oo aap ag added the maniac, roughly shaking — innie, C The dark cloud swept swiftly on, Its ragged ed, : grew brighter and brighter, until the broad fiver’ q gg moved majestically from behind the murky vail. ay “* Now, you can see—look quick! he is wing im- — patient—he beckons—you must obey!” shrieked the weird woman, lifting Minnie by the shoulders clear | of the rock, holding her at arm’s-length over the ~ frightful abyss. They were upon a narrow point of rock that over- hung an almost fathomless canon. A fall from this would be inevitable death. The breath of life would ~ have departed the body long ere it touched the ~ jagged rocks below. f One terror-stricken glance did Minnie give, them closed her eyes in horror; almost unconsciously a” ee rted her lips, La ‘“* Mother in heaven! protect thy poor child!” d These simple words produced a strange effect — upon the madwoman. The wild light faded fron her eyes, the frenzied look abruptly fled from her wrinkled features, and with a gasping cry she tot tered back from the dizzy verge, sinking to the rock beside the maiden. “You have a mother—you pray to her?” “My mother is dead; an angel in heaven,” Mim nie faltered, almost fearing to speak, though a won- derful change had come over the weird woman, “T had a mother once, and she died; he told me that it was my bad conduct that broke her heart. She was good and pure and holy. Often when brain is well, I wake up from a pleasant dream feel her warm kiss upon my brow, just as she placed © | it there when she bade me good-night. She didn’t dream how wicked I was, or ‘twould have been her curse instead! And that ae I stole away like a thief. I was a thief, for [ robbed them of their earthly peace for all time to come! And I waa ~ called mother, too, by a little angel; I don't remem-. ber why she left me. I was very kind to her. I~ would have died for her sake, and for his. Butshe | went away; maybe mother called her. She thought I would teach her to be wicked like myself, per a oa es een ae Do you see him? Answer me= © ha ” There was something peculiarly touching in these words, uttered as they were in a subdued, mournful _ tone by that strange being, as she sat. rocking to an@ my fro, wringing her hands ceaselessly; and Miinie | felt a choking at her throat, as she mastered her terror sufficiently to say: 9 “As you loved your child, by the memory of the — mother that loved you, I beg you to have pity upon me; I never did you harm. would like to be your friend, and help you if I could. I pray you letme ~ return to my friends,”’ a ““Who are on that begs mercy of me?” abru : interrupted the weird woman, springing to her her eyes again filling with the fires of insanity. “Ha I remember—you are one whom my master de- manded as a sacrifice? Come—he is all-powe - he must be obeyed!" and she dragged Minnie‘for- | ward to the edge of the rock, paying no heed toher | broken sobs and prayers for gee aa The moon was again hidden behind a cloud, bub the madwoman bent far forward, as though - to pierce the intense gloom below. Then she rose ~ erect, and passed one hand across her brow with an impatient gesture. “T can see nothing—he is gone—there is only that hideous serpent writhing around, biting itseld with its bruised, bloody head. Master! I am here, er 4 to obey your will. I will give way to no more foo ; dreams of the dead past. Tell me what to do—ah, A thanks, good master! I was afraid you were an- — gered with me. See—here is the sacrifice you de — manded—I send her to you—”’ but the weird woman __ held Minnie half suspended above the abyss for a _ moment, without relaxing her iron grip. “Ha! he shakes his head—he points toward the Enchanted vane ae vanishes! What does he mean? He rejects the sacrifice—or wishes it athig __ home. That's it—at his home!” and laughing shrik ly, the weird woman flung the helpless girl across her shoulder, and darted from the spot, cressing the rough country with an ease and celerity fairly mar- velous, avoiding the many pitfalls, as if by instinct. _ Minnie was aroused from her stupor by the sound of shrill yells and rifle-shots, and as the madwoman ~ | Mey age er to the rock, she caught a brief glimpse of the plain below. She rec ed the white tilted | wagons, and knew that friends were almost within | reach, She stretched out her arms with a pitiful for help, for the moment forgetting that the ; grants were in nearly as great peril as herself; and then, as the moon hid itself, the weird woman ceased her mad ravings, and again lifted the = in her — arms, pressing on with unabated speed, despite the distance she had already traversed. ¥ Minnie took no note of the lapse of time, so utters — ly Laren was she, both from bodily exhaustion and mental anxiety. At times, when the ground was more level, the madwoman set her upon her feet and half led, half her along, never ; after leaving the p le above the attack train until she the valley of the 5 a ? :
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ng, where the unfortunate trapper, Chavez, had pé his death some hours before. curb that surrounded the spring, and then held erect upon the edge. The peculiar vapor, the anzeé bubbling, hissing noise of the troubled water ly aroused the maiden. ) must dic. ion. Are you ready? vat —by the memory of your mother, mercy!” “J do not know the name. I am only a subject, ugh a queen. 9 ‘ I can only obey my orders.” pus sedi above the bubbling waters for a moment. Then the helpless girl was flung into the midst of the Boiling 8 ring, ant ngie half-stifled shriek—a slight splashing—a w hea; id laugh. And the moon hid itself behind a black CAOUd = Gi CHAPTER XI, Cae IN STRANGE COMPANY. /Down—down through the empty space whirled the ‘body of tho helpless young emigrant. Am of agony—a duil crashing sound as t 1e body muntil, at last, the bruised, bleeding, senseless waenly a few foct above the jagged rocks. he life-blood trickledfrom his temple and showed Vim a2 dozen places upon his person, a boughs liad torn his carments and lacerated his skin. ‘and thus, with gradually decreasing undulations, the stly ficure hung doubled across the limb, while last gleam of departing day faded. shadowy shape stole silently along the bottom the canon, gliding in and, out, noiselessly passing from bowldcr to bowler, pansies nearly at every "Btep to-peer keenly ahead, above, around, as though pading some eneniy’s attack. Silently the shadow Hides on, then pauscs directly beneath the now mo- fenless body. Arain that quick, burning glance uund—then upward, A drop of blood falls upon uipturned face. The shadow flattens itself to the ound, and the muzzlaof a rifle instantly covers the apeless mass suspended in mid-air. For a fow moments, he stauds staring at the gent- Ry swaying body,then drops his rifle, and nimbly peales the tree that bears such strange fruit. The Mimb bends and creaks beneath its double weight, the adventurer manages to grasp the emigrant’s € , and thon with considerable address, draws ihe. senseless form toward him. Jong, matted hair, and eagerly peers into the lood-stained face, a strange, snarling sound rum- ling from the massive chest. hen the man cautiously worked his way to the rround, bearing the inanimate emigrant over his ‘shoulder. Securing his rifle he retraced his steps up canon, winding between or around the ragged sses of rock with an ease and celerit y that proved thorough knowledge of the trail, and still the red ps trickled from the young man’s head, falling upon the rocky ground, and leaving a bloody trail behind them. — - For fully half an liour the stranger bove Frank laynard on through the night, then turned abruptly 8 left, as though about to scale the almost per- licular wall. After scrambling up afew steps, : low down and parting a leafy screen pre the wild grape-vine coverec es, he lowe the body from his shoulder. few embers smoldered at some distance, and b 4 a ng Maynard where the feeble light fell up- the stranger hurriedly wiped the blood pale features, and gazed long and keenly othem. Brank Maynard was not dead. » This sound seemed to calm the stranger, and he ent over the body for a moment eagerly. fie could al the faint fluttering of the heart, and the bright ace of his broad-bladed knife was dimmed. He ain’t dead yet—who knows? Mebbe the good Lord sent him to tell me whar I kin find him!” » Fornearly an hour the stranger worked before his forts to restore life were rewarded. And then, af- a few incoherent words and a dazed stare around sre emigrant'’s head sunk back and he : p that closely resembled death. And the wnger crouched him, never once removing is eyes from the pale face through those long, weary _) ¥ewas broad day in the outer world, though within bed : FM 5 ee ; yy 3 * A piercing | The weird woman dragged Minnie up to the pecv- | | (The strong hands closed upon the trembling form | mand raised the maiden from her feet, holding her blows of the blood-stained staff; then a | pached the tree-tops. The brittle pine boughs gplin- | red and bent beneath the weight, though offering | hore and more resistance as the body neared the | Bd bowlders that so thickly strewed the canon | Migrant swayed up and down upon a sturdy bough, | vere the cruel | | what you’d say when you woke up. Beadle’s the rocky den alight was still necessary, since the bottom of the canon was never reached by the sun’s rays, when Frank Maynard awoke to consciousness, “Where am I—what has happened ?”* hc murmured faintly, striving in vain to arise from the rude couch of leaves, ‘“You’re in good han’s, I reckon, an’ ‘Il git along all right, if so be you "bey orders an’ take things easy,” pees ly replied. the stranger, appearing far more like a sane man than when he had last spoken. “T was fallng—I had: been shot—yes! I see it all now!’’ and Maynard shuddered convulsively. ‘*We were dashed down from, the ledge—down a horrible depth! And she—Minnie—was she—did you find tag ‘**T only found you, swingin’ ‘twixt heaven an’ earth ona pine branch. I don’t reckon thar was any one else. You're all mixed up in the mind, Ireckon—an’ leetle wonder a’ter sech a fall as that! But thar—I most forgot. Stranger, on’y fer me, you'd ’a’ died out yender. You was bleedin’ fast—you couldn’t ’a’ lived a hour longer on’y I got you down, brung you hyar an’ doctored up your hurts. You wouldn’t lie to me, now, would ye?” . I have nothing to conceal—why should I tell you a he? “Nor laugh at me? They all do that—they think it’s fine fun to lie an’ laugh at me, cause they think I'm crazy. But I ain’t—sometimes I ’most wish ‘t I was—then mebbe I might fergi/. But I cain’t—I kin see everythin’ that happened jest’s plain now as that black day. ‘Thar—don't look at me so dub’ous like,” and a threatening glow began to fill the great eyes. “What is it you want? Ithurts me to speak—Ilam sore and aching all over,” replied I'rank, pettishly. “Tell me whar he is—Zenas Kalloch?”’ ‘*T never heard the name before; I know no man who goes by that name,’ replied Maynard, after a moment’s. thought. “Don’t say that—don’?, stranger! I tell ye I ain't crazy—l’m on’y Jet Cowles. Jest think how long I’ve hunted fer him—a lifetime—fer years an’ years, night an’ day, never restin’ or sleepin’ .or eatin’. Then don’t tell me that—a’ter I’ve lotted so much on Mebbe he’s fooled you, too, with his’ soft tongue—mebbe you think he’s your fri’nd. An’ yit you’ve got a good face—it’s like an honést man’s face. You cain’t know what a wieked devil he is—but I'll tell ye. My brain’s clear now—I kin see it all, jest as it came | about, He brushes back / | in’ his black heart out. several stunted | “T was.married—Mary an’ me, an’ we was so happy —tell he came. He was better-lookin’ than me, an’ hed more book-Varnin’, We alllikedhim. An’ then —why don’t ye laugh, stranger? Ain’t it fun to seea big cuss like me wi’ tears in his eyes? But thar—lI cain’t help it! Whenever I think o’ that time, when we was all so happy an’ contented, if makes a babby o’ me.”’ ‘*He stole her away fromme,” continued the man in a harsh, strained voice. ‘Her an’ the babby. t know that much—then somethin’ went crack in my head. When I woke up, Iwas shut up in a big stone house, an’ they saidI was crazy. But I knowed they lied—’twas some o' és doin’s, to keep me from tear- I waited a long time fer him, but he didn’t come. Then I set the house on fire an’ run away. Ihed a dream that night, an’ the good Lord told me ké was up hyar in these parts. I cain’t find him, though I’ve bin lookin’ ever sence. But ow'll tell me whar he is—you won’t try to hide him from me, now I've told you what a black heart he’s ot?” and the harsh voice softened and an imploring ook rested upon the rugged features. “Tf I knew, I would tell you gladly—butI don’t. I | never met any such man—” began Maynard. “You're lyin’ to me—I kin see it in your eyes! Tell me the truth, or I'll tear you linb from limb!” cried the madman, his eyes glittering viciously. “Who dares raise an angry voice in my dominions?” cried.a sharp voice, as the leafy screen rustled and a | human figure stepped into the den, | Spring. Sily. } A feeble moan parted Maynard’s lips. The cold It was the weird woman—the witch of the Boiling She stood leaning upon her long staff, her thorn-covered head flung proudly back, an insane fire in her eyes. “Who air you?” muttered Cowles, passing a hand across his forehead with a puzzled air. “Your queen—bend your knee when you address me,” was the angry reply, as the weird woman shook her staff. ““Who air you? How d you find this place?” “Hat! ha! what would be the use of being a queen, unless one knew everything?’ “Do you know Zenas Kalloch? Kin ‘you tell me whar I kin find him?” eagerly cried Cowles. “ Kalloch—Kalloch—is he a snake, too?” slowly uttered the weird woman, her voice changing. “ Yes—a pizen shake—tell me quick!” ‘* Kneel down there, and kiss the hem of my robe; 2en I will know that yov are a true and loyal sub- ject. There,’ and she laughed shrilly as the mad- man tremblingly obeyed her, ‘‘arise. You know where the dead pine stands between three black rocks, up the canon?” “Yes, yes, I know,” hurriedly muttered Cowles. “You will find the snake there. Ibade him await my coming; but you will.do just as well.” ethro Cowles caught up his rifle and darted through the entrance. The weird woman laughed; low, but with a peculiar cadence that caused a thri of vague apprehension to creep over the wounded man. Nor was this lessened when the strange in- truder glided close to his leafy couch, crouching low down with the catlike movement ofa velvet-pawed panther stealing upon its prey. “You are not one of my subjects; I never saw you before!” she muttered, poring keenly into his face. “I'm sure we never met before,”’ said Frank, with a queer feeling as though the glittering eyes were fas- { { ; hd 1 Sle APE ek a ren eo “ NY 4, ? Bat ‘The canon is full of snakes; he may find the one he seeks—who knows? But, that does not matter. I wanted to get rid of him without trouble. And wht, do you think? Because my master does not wish his secrets known. He bade me tell that man what I did, that he might not witness the sacrifice.” “The sacrifice?’ echoed Maynard, bewildered, ““Yes; didn’t you hear him—my master—whisperf He gaid, ‘Send me this young man.’ That means, you. Only spirits can go to him; so I must Idi you.’ These words were spoken in a low, even tone, Frank knew not whatto think. It seemed lite some fantastic dreamin. But, as the weird women crouched lower as if for a spring, and the dull glow of ‘the lamp-light fell upon a long knife, Maynard realized his peril, and with a faint cry, strove to arise and de- fend himself. The woman sprung upon him, holding him down as easily as though he had been an infant, while the venomous blade was raised above his bared chest. “TI obey thee, master; see, I send you the spirit you demanded!’’ screamed the crazed creature, CHAPTER XIV. HOW THE EAGLE KEPT HIS PLEDGE A HIpEOous face, with burning eyes and floating expression—this much Ada Dixon saw as two power- ful arms caught her up from the ground, pressing’ her tightly to his naked chest, and) a deep, guttura exclamation sounded faintly in her ears as she yield- ed to a strange, deathlike faintness. And with Yong, loping strides the savage sped'on through the night as though dreading immediate pursuit. On through the hills, winding, turning and twist- ing like one who seeks to throw a deadly enemy off the scent, the savage passed, never once halting un- til he had gained his mountain retreat. With a shuddering, gasping moan, Ada opened her eyes, half-blinded by the cold water the savage had cast into her face. Brushing the icy drops away, she glanced hastily around—then shrunk back, trem- bling in every limb. She was reclining upon a level rocky surface. A small fire burned brightly beside her, faintly reveal- ing the surroundings. At her feet crouched an In- pian; & monster, rather. A massive, deep-bronze body, marked with near- ly a score scars of bullet wounds and knife-cuts. Long, knotted limbs. Soiled ribbons and well-worn plumes decorated the grizzled scalp-lock. The one eye—a white, sightless ball marked where the other had been—was riveted upon her face with a oe lustful glare. The thin lips were parted in a br grin, revealing the broken, tobacco-stained fa that served for teeth. A blood-red patch filled the middle of his face. It was where the nose had been, Either disease or the weapon of some foeman had robbed the savage of this useful feature. Litile wonder that Ada shrunk back with a cry of terror and disgust. It was Beauty and the Beast —Day and Night—Innocence and Guilt—Hyperion and Satyr. In that moment of horror, the maiden recalled the words of Pethonista, and she knew that she had fal- len into the ruthless hands of the Night-walker, The chief chuckled with glee as he saw Ada lift her head. She had lain so long without motion that he began to fear she would never awaken to life. He uttered a few rapid sentences in his own tongue, but as Ada only stared at him in mute terror, he added, in detestable English: “Squaw open eye—dat good. rare no right sleep when chief want talk. Dat right—open ear— lis’en now to what chief he tell.” “Chief Neepaughwheese—what you cal} Night- walker. Got plenty big voice—what say, dat mus’ be. Blackfoot nation lis‘’en sharp when Night-walker talk. If tell braves go hunt scalp—dey tek de war path. He say kill—tek pris’ner, it jest so. He say make fire—burn, pris‘ner roast quick, If tell squaw —go to dis lodge—cook dat brave’s meat, she go plenty fast. Dat what it mean to be chief. You un’ stan’?’ Ada managed to utter a faint negative, as she “aw the grim chief expecting an answer. ‘You big fool, den,” angrily replied the Blackfoot; then, as if unable longer to restrain his evil passi he added, rapidly, in.a tone that could not be mis- taken: “‘ Dis what Night-walker mean. You nice % —mek chief good squaw. You’ people all kill got no fadder, no mudder. Den at yee cant | go hang presents by lodge door. See—hang on dis rock—dat he lodge. You tek dat down, give it back to chief—den we married quick. Dat w: F me mean.” As he uttered these words, Neepaughwheese drew the scalping-knife from his beli ond thrust it ina crevice Beside Ada, then stepped back with folded arms, complacently eying her trembling figure with his one orb. The maiden hesitated only a moment, then erage ed the weapon, standing with her back against rock wall. “Back!” she cried, as the chief extended a hand with a guttural exclamation of satisfaction, evi- dently believing this action an acceptance of his rude suit, “ Back, Lsay! My arm is peated drive this knife to your heart—and I vy dare lay a hand upc: me!’’ The chief's extended hand slowly dropped good : n a side. His one aye was fixed admiringly a defiant maiden. If he had coveted her before, she ben doubly precious in his eye now, and he f Ww * ; wd boat nels vill, if you \)
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AT ang a The trail was 6 long aeme the mother of great and wise chiefs. Nee- “wheese is—’’ ‘wote t is very brave when he'sees noth- ieee, Feok eho runs to his hole, trembling i. skadiow of a beave crosses his . added a clear, distinct voice, roa? baadiaiec “Hirh.- walker turned abruptly, his scarred features reidered stil more hideous by the scowl! of rage that eouvilsed them. The angry exclamation shat trem- bled upen his lips was changed to one of surprise as he recognized the bold intruder who had so auda- ciously conciuded the speech he began. * Pethonista!’’ he uttered, flashing forth his hatchet. i “Save me, Wagle—save me from that fearful man!’ gasped Ada, ber new-born courage deserting her as she recognized the Indian chief. “Squaw have Eagle’s pledge—he save her,” was the quiet reply. “She is my captive—what right have you to come between us!” haughtily demanded Neepaughwheese. “She was mine first—you stole her away from where ] placed her while I helped fight the pale- faces. My right is better than yours,” coolly re- liad Pethonista. “Phe Eagle is only a crow, and talks words that have no senSe in them. Let him fly away to his own nest, or the Nig¢ht-walker—” and the scarred chief shook his tomahawk significantly. ‘A squaw uses her tongue,” retorted Pethonisia, drawing his knife and flinging it at Ada’s feet. “ Now, is Night-walker afraid to meet a chief?” Yellowstone Jack. they must give up all hope of reaching her friends that day, or else take the perilous trail that wound along the right wall of the canon; that upon which they stood when Maynard was shot. Ada bésought him to take this trail—anything was preferable to longer separation from her friends. And thus they crept along the narrow ledge. Along the face of the canon, at that dizzy hight, each footstep was one of peril, where one false step would doom the one taking it to a horrible death up- on the rocks below. Then the ledge widened. They proceeded more rapidly. Pethonista suddenly staggered back. A shrill yell burst from his lips. He flung aloft his arms and then disappeared over the escarpment. A | sullen thud, _ Ada sunk fainting to the ground, a rifle-crack ring- ing in her ears. ~ CHAPTER XV. CAMPBELL COUNTS A COUP. YELLOWSTONE JAcK and his comrades closely fol- lowed the young avenger’s advice, and when the war- cry of their dreaded enemy was_recognized, so ably seconded, the savages broke and fled in hot haste. The trappers and Campbell were warmly greeted by the survivors of the fight. On counting heads, it was found that four emi- grants had been killed, nine more wounded, one mor- tally. ‘This heavy loss, together with the unknown } fate of Maynard and the two women, cast a gloom Tho giant chief sprung forward, and aimed a ' deadly blow at the Eagle’s head. The stroke was adroiily parried, swiftly returned, and then the rival chiefs stood foot to foot plying their weapons with marvelous skill and celerity. Sparks fell upon every side in showers, the clash of steel rung out loudly. It was a duel to the death, dimly lighted by the red glare of the tiny fire. And Ada, crouching close against the’rock wall, breathlessly watched the issue that was to decide her fate. The stage was small for such a struggle, scarce ten feot in breadth, nearly square. Upon three sides a rpendicular face ci rock, upon the nothing save empty space, until, near one hundred yards below, the jagged bowlders that strewed the canon bed would welcome to certain death the one who should be forced or hurled over the escarpment. Suddenly Ada gave a cry of pain, and sunk down, rtially stunned. orce that the Eagle’s weapon was torn from his grasp and hurled forcibly against the maiden’s head. Before Night-walker could fairly realize his ad- yvantaze; Pethonista Closed with him, forcing him heavily against the wall. The shock caused Nee- ne pagar to drop his weapon, and striving to r the sinewy hands away fronr his throat, a fear- ful struggle for the mastery ensued. Though taller and heavier, Night-walker was neither so supple nor active as his antagonist, and the trial was more even than one ai first glance would have believed. First one and then the other was forced back a pace, their limbs locked together, every muscle strained to its utmost tension. other — | The hatchets had met with such | over all. During the night there had been a consultation be- tween John Warren, Campbell and the trappers. It decided their plans for the day. If possible, they were to leave the train and search for the missing ones, though there would be considerable danger of being isi off by some of the scattered Blackfeet. The slackfeet would never rest until they had avenged the death of their brethren. Though not strong enough to venture another attack, they would lurk around the trail until they could be reinforced. yond a doubt, some of their best runners were on the way for assistance. ‘““Whar’s Hoosier?’ suddenly asked as the party was about to start. “ He ain’t hyar!” **T reckon he’s all right,” quietly replied Yellow- stone Jack. “*‘Mebbe he’s gone on ahead to see ef thar’s any snags in the way.” It wasin thegray of dawn. The trappers thought it bést to leave the corral undiscovered, if possible, and so set dut early, at first gliding directly away from the point were the trail had been lost on the preceding day. A few hundred yards would carry 5 | them to the broken ground, where they would have , They fell heavily to | the rock, tearing, biting, snarling like maddened | beasts, first one on top, then the other. They rolled over the heap of glowing embers, searee heeding the scorching pain, and then, still locked in tight em- brace, they staggered to their feet, only to fall again, with crushing force, The embers were scattered in, every direction, Ada could just distinguish a writhing mass. She could not tell which was which, though she saw one form half-arise and with a killing exertion of strength hurl the other away into the darkness. A brief space—and then came a dull ‘hud from the eanon below. And then the victor staggered to his feet, with a faint, breathless whoop of victory. A ery of terror and despair broke from the maid- en’s lips. ‘She fancied she recognized the scarred chief's voice, | parts, good cover to aid them in passing whatever spies the enemy might hate upon the look-out. As both Campbell and quainted with the ground, little time was lost, every step leading in the right direction., Yet the sun was two hours high before they reached the mouth of the Wolf Pass, having done a g t deal cautious skulking in order to escape being seen by the In dians whom they discovered stationed at different points, *“T am puzzled,” frankly admitted Campbell, after a considerable time spent in trying to recover the lost trail, ‘“‘I can’t into it. Where can they have gone? I left them here, alive and well, with the worst of the storm over. It’s strange—very strange!” “Strange things is mighty apt to happen in these stranger,’ quietly observed Yellowstone. I’ve see’d stranger things ‘ithin the week. An’ that Mebbe you kin tell ‘at deal Ol See makes me think—yes, hyar ‘tis. ) me what them crooked scratches mean, | Scout produced the bit of white buck-skin that had Those few moments were full of bitter anguish for | her. She could hear the heavy, labored breathing of the victor, and expected with each instant to feel his brutal grasp upon her person. But, instead, there ne the word: oO need be skeer any mo’. Night-walker he deai—Eaglo keep his pledge. Squaw plenty safe now 7 The maidén’s brain whirled, and she bowed for- sear with Blow nicky whirled, ar and body, had been sorely tasked during the past fif- teen hours. She had undergone enough to prostrate a strong man, There was a gradu : ight in the east, when she returned to dening gray light in to consciousness. At first ahe could not realize what had occurred, but then, | as Pethonista, bleeding from half a score wounds, rose before her, a glad cry broke from her lips. Tat oS save mé—you will restore me to my en “Yeh—what Eagle say, he do. Frien’s live yit, dough bad big fight. "Fight like debble—you’ frien’s kill lenty Blac “re and the chief’s brow darkened. ith difficulty Ada suppressed a cry of joy, but , though weak and stiff, she begged Eagle to lose no time in gaining Ube train, Pethonista led the way along a narrow, windi ledge that finally carried them to easier tevaling: Then the chief briefly told her how he managed to follow Neepaughwheese through the night in time to and rough to hide a and twice the Her strength, both of mind | |} been wrapped around the arrow sent Over his head by the strange maiden of the valley. It’s writing!” exclaimed John Warren, taking the skin. ; ‘‘ What does it mean? It says: **«Your lives are in danger. The Blackfeet have found your trail. To-night they will attack you. Your only 10pe is in instant flight. From one who wishes you well.’”’ “Kin a sperrit write?’ abruptly demanded Jack. “That’s a question you can answer as well asT. But_ why do you ask?” demanded Warren, curiously. “ Nothin’—never mind. The gals fust, I reckon. I move we take a look down the kenyon.”’ Warren turned pale as death, for he could not help but read the trapper’s thought. Indeed, it was pos- sible that the lost ones had been swept from the rock by the fearful tempest. And there seemed no other solution to the mystery: Had they left the spot by any Other way, surely the keen-eyed scouts would have detected some signs of a trail. And there were none to be found. “Look yender!’* muttered Brindle Joe, after they had traversed something over a mile. ‘“‘See that varmint, by the scrambly pine on the rock. I kin drap *im from hyar,’’ and he handled his rifle eager- y: **Don’t be a fool, Joe; we don’t want the hull kit on our backs, when we get in the kenyon. Mustn’t burn powder ef it kin be helped—mind that.”’ “Yellowstone is right. é are not our own mas- ters now, until this matter is fairly settled. After that there will be time enough for paying off old scores. I think we can manage to pass by without being discovered; if not, then leave him to me,”’ said Campbell. ; : In single file the quartette glided along, taking advantage of every rock and bush to screen them- selves from the roving gaze of the savage perched upon the point of rocks. This maneuvering con- sumed time, but it was finally successful, and then, when the rey pe safely passed, our friends in- creased their e, and soon they could descend into the canon. At some distant age, this canon had Be- | Brindle Joe, | reached a point where . Yellowstone were well ac- } and the | “ been the channel of some powerfulstream, The sides) of rock were worn and eaten curiously, and some of the larger bowlders that thickly strewed the bed: were worn smooth and round. Others had more re" cently fallen from the hights above, and were rough and jagged. There was a thin deposit of sandy and earth along the bed, and this had, in given growth to shrubs, vines and even goodly- * trees, “We could play hide-an’-hunt-us hyar wi’ the Huy Blackfoot tribe fer a month o’ Sundays!” observedy Brindle Joe, curiously noting some of the covertsy as **Ontel they’d roast us out, you mean, This stuff, | ‘1 burn like greasewood, in a fa’r breeze.” e A low exclamation from’ Campbell, who, wasia@y few yards in advance, interrupted the kbs ns He t 4 *iey was bending over a blood stained rock 1 had barely dried. : “Sien—and it came froniup there,” he slowly said, pointing upward, where the bent and broken branches of the tree lent emphasis to his words: ' “Cain’t be: thar’s no gittin’ *ithin half a mile" the edge up thar," positively returned Jack, "Sy ‘“Yos there is; I know a trail that would lead one richt above us, though *twould require strong nerves and a steady hand. And some one has tried it; ae) you see, wa " “Must ’a’ bin the devil, then, fer no human critter could fall down frum thar an’ live a’ter. Yit bya : a trail, one a blind man could foller,” Brindle Joe} pointing to a few drops of blood tha’ « his keen eye had discovered, leading away from thes spot. nay Campbell and Yellowstone eagerly bent over they trail, and Warren waited for their verdict with beat, ing heart. Yet it did not seem possible that his lost — ones could have reached this spot. s: “We'll see where it leads, anyway. Brindle Joey will you trail, or shall I?” uttered Campbell. ; “You lead; we'll kiver you. Thar may be vars mints at t’other eend o' this. Old man, you kinder: keep abind, so’s not to spile the trail. Now, stranger,” spread y’urself.”’ we But Campbell found little difficulty in folowing they trail. The blood~lrops were never more than ayant apart, sometimes even closer, and afar less expert . enced eye than his would have sufficed for the taskoy ‘Bleeds like a stuck pig!” muttered Brindle Joéiy ‘“Must be a healthy critter, to walk so fur anjgoy stiddy, a’ter a tuinm’le like that,” added Yellowstone. — The trail led on for over half amile, then seemed te end all at once. The blood-drops were no longer to) be seen, until Yellowstone pointed to aplace where the) wall slanted abruptly down to the canon bed. keen eye had detected a tiny blotch of blood, ‘** He's in thm bushes, I reckon,” mutteréd Jae His voice was abrupily drowned by a half-stifled shriek, coming from the point toward which them faces were turned. Then the words: ie * Mercy—would YOU MUIAET ME I a t et *Tt's Maynard’s voice—I know it?” arren,: - leaping up the rude steps and tearing aside the Vine wreathed bushes, revealing a dark cavity. é i “A'ter ‘im; he'll git into a pizen scrape, the % fool!” gritted Jack, as he sprung ‘forward. Wee A strange scene lay before ‘them. ‘The weird wor | man clutching a knife; bending over the feebly struge” eling emigrant. She had heard the cry of Johny Warren, and turned her head in surprise. hae The emigrant sprung forward and wrested the: | weapon from her hand, hurling her with violence against the rocks, She dropped in a heap, senselessan) “Thank God! I owe you, my life!’’ faintly ufered Maynard. eee “My child—Minnie—where is she?” cried the ale most-distracted father, staring wildly apound, as though hoping to discover his lost ones hidden within) the cave. "ne “God knows!" brokenly replied the young 58 fe “They were with me when 1 was shot—then TI Tele i down from the ledge we were upon. A strange many found me, and brought me here. Then she came and—’’ ‘‘Wharis he? Mebbe he kin tell us somethin,” suggested Yellowstone Jack, as Warren sunk to pi floor. es At this moment a rifle-shot sounded from without) mingled with a shrill yell of mortal agony; and a9 moment later there came a dull, heavy, sick thud upon the rocky bed of the canon. rs “Come out here, you fellows—I’ve made ‘on and found a. prize!’ eried Campbell’s voice, antly. res the trio emerged, they saw him bending overa horribly crushed and megs corpse, coolly off the feathered sealp-loc. f AG ae the be istorted his “A chief—see!’’ and he held trophy, while a fiendish expression features, “‘A chief of the Blackfeet; and he was nice business, too! You see the ledge above—it's where the blue line of rock ends. He was upon with—now, old man, don’t Ly into a fit—she’s right, though she did fal] back out of sight—I said he was with a woman—a white woman. You're ht, old man—’twas one of those we were looking for. The blacked-haired one.”’ Bt A groan of agony burst from Warren's lips} but 7 then he quickly brightened up. Though Campbell” 7 had seen only one, it was possible that Minnie was “| also there, At least Ada would be apt to know ‘where she was to be found. pe i must rescue her—oh, hasten!” ; ed y, old man—thar’s the young feller an” ee” Bt. Pai: po goes the witch!" yeued Sade Joe, point / g alo e canon . “How'd she ip ot J to "s Cha’ You fellers kin see to the gal—I'm that witch,” gritted Yello me, *“* to pay for yit!” ! nt = lay : ee ‘ on p : Ts Py he my ge 2 . + é in \
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_ “ We'll have to leave the young man, since he is ‘tnable to walk,’ seid Campbeil. ‘‘ We can send back for him afte. we rescue the lady. I'll tell Maynard glad’y consented to remain behind, when he heard wha’ nad happened. Campbell left hima ‘revolver, to cefend himself with, in case of need, and ‘then left ie den, accompanied by John Warren. ' “Now old man, put your legs to good use. The —. #e get up thar, the easier I'll feel,’’ muttered Hoel, darting away. 7 CHAPTER XVI. YELIOWSTONE JACK AND THE "Ward at top speed upon the trail of the weird wo- f @an, Yet their progress was comparatively slow, @he¢ bed of the canon growing more obstructed by "Bush and bowlder the further they advanced, until, ‘et last, the two trappers could not proceed faster than at a walk. ¥ ene & passage through the vine-clad bushes, | whenever he paused to listen. Nothing would be ) easier than for her to slip into some of the numerous | eoverts that lined both sides of the canon and lie still antil the trappers had passed by, then take the back “trail and give them the slip. I? he could once drive | the game from the canon, he felt confident of the re- mult, Surely two trappers could run down a woman - faa fair chase. > Separating, he and Joe advanced leisurely, - fhoroughly beating the cover before them, to make /gure the game was still afoot. Owing to their ac- “tivity, they still advanced at a fair rate. Pe “Yonder she goes!” cricd Brindle Joe, pointing mnead, where he had just caught a glimpse of the Woman flecing with unabated speed and viror, no need o’ eho ain’t,” eed. I ; 1 what a prize thoy hac miss y leaving this patch of 1 Hunsearched. Even at that moment a pair of P eyes wero glaring at them from the covor. At any Buotner time the acute sight of Brindle Joe would have ign ’ @ fresh trail, bat nov wet +i PLT I - - i w she | > her V vd vn afore this, an’ she don’t to see the wind-up, Jack. what vartue we “Spook or an, Vira goin Seorleise bu'st somethin’,”’ a low SF Ic a stone 7-ounce o’ | 1 ’a’ run up that silver dollar,” mut- | pore: inbiously. ‘ Lead’s no good thar/” Me Don't know—the old man handled. hor like she Syren flesh an’ blood, Don’t reckon a spook ’d ‘a’ fell bh wo solid as she did az’inst the rocks. But thar— gpread out. We must keep her afore us ef we want to meke a coup.” - of the canon bed. At times the trappers would lose sight of the woman, and fearing she had | sought some covert, ay! thus to give them the : they would Beat the ‘bushes, peer into ever niche as they passed aud presenuy cate pse of their gaine far ahcad of them. Then ther spurt would end as before. Yet they knew j t this could not last’ much longer, for the canon @nded less than half a mile further, after which the d was more cnen, And upon this they hoped s00n run the woman down aeat took the witch they had at first believed her. es in a tone of wonder, Rolnting ahead. Active and quick-footed almost as the mountain goat, the witch of the enchanted vailey was scaling fthe rocks that blocked up the end of the canon, As y Brindle Joe spoke, sbe gained the top, and waved ” her staff with a little ery of triumph toward the pur- “Ef ye’re human, hy’ar’s what'll make ye a sper- in good airnest!” gritted Yellowstone Jack, as he iS tily leveled his rifle at the witch and fired. a en the’ smoke cleared, there was nothing to be | geen but rocks.and bushes. Tho trappers glanced at @ach other. The same thought might have been read in the eyes of both. Their superstition was aroused, a T went smack through her an’ she didn’t winch,” Muttered Brindle Joe, nervous). “J drawed a fair bead—nur I ain't in the kabit 0’ missin’ marks o’ that bigness so clost by. Ef she’s E human, I'd ‘a’ downed her, shore!” * Reckon we'd better take the back trail. I don’t Wike this kind o’ business overly much--"t don’t set Well on my stomach,” added Joe, with a sickly grin. “You kin, ‘f ye like, but [I won't. Til see this ig through or bu'st, I sot out to foller the—the /) critter, an’ foller her 1 will, ef she leads me to the very gates o’ Hades itself,” deliberately uttered Yei- Jowstone Jack, as he carefully reloaded his rifle. proven his face was pale and set, there was a ~ could not mistake, and he knew his: comrade too well to attempt a remonstrance. Instead, he said: ~ “So be it, toen, Brindle Joe mayn’t be much a’- i t, but he’s too white to sneak out o’ a scrape hsp ner means to face. I reckon ter be a match fer the old ’un, even ef she does lead 0 pitch y’ur jinny !"'* tiously pose Jack red over the ng th seeing be the see 1 aime a & < r + i * fe) Beadle’s Half-Dime . — Z Yettowstone Jack and Brindle Joe pressed for- | The woman had disappeared, but Jack could hear ' unless, indeed, she | look at the pizen ca!” exclaimed Brindle | of determination in his eyes that Brindle Joe | ou ’n’ I'd or. | Library. woman, but he did discover something. else that drew a cry from his lips as he scrambled forward. Several drops of fresh blood were sprinkled up- on the white rocks. lt was here that the woman pe last been seen. Beyond a doubt this blood was ers. **How air you, spook!’ langhed Jack, his face brightening. ‘* Vow what ye think, Brindle Joe?” “IT reckon we've bin makin’ pizen fools 0’ our- selves,’’ quoth the trapper, after closely examining the telltale spots. ‘*Spooks don’t hev blood—least- wise so Black Harris sais. He said he rammed day- | light clear through hés spook, at the medicine spring around dozen o' times, an’ nary a drap o’ blood did it let out, I reckon we've struck a crazy critter, *stead 0° a spook.” “Crazy or not, she rubbed out Mexy. Don’t fer- git that,” quickly replied Yellowstone Jack. “Thar she goes!” cried Brindle Joe, peinting ahead. ‘‘ Makin’ fer the medicine valley, too. ’F she gits thar fust, it’s good-by John!” Yellowstone made no reply, but sprung forward at full speed after the fleeing woman. Their delay in ealoadinie and examining the rocks had given the chased woman fully a mile start, and she was run- ning swiftly, heading for the valley of the Boiling Spring, now not more than two-thirds of a mile dis- tant. Yellowstone Jack was a splendid runner, and gradually left Brindle Joe in the rear, rapidly gain- ing upon the fugitive. He was not more than two hundred yards behind when she entered the valley, and strained every nerve to its utmost tension, hop- ing to overtake her before she could reach the spring where she had so mysteriously eluded him once be- fore, even dropping his rifle in his eagerness. The witch gained the curb surrounding the spring, and flung herself headlong forward. But just at that moment the strong hands cf Yellowstone Jack closed upon her skin garments, and he strove to drag her back, She kicked vigorously, and striking his shin, knocked hi tfrom unde , and then both fell toz r into the Boiling Spring, : of borror burst from B lle Je s lips as he yt n di ppear, ; ish wp, tell- ing ‘him that both 1 le dicine : And the per n 1d f t him that ) Wen blind A sot f had l l Li , J A 1 ; } . ; 44 - r] 4 : ¥ ran i : l wumblod unt : : : iiied. Thena y mbii l ' 1 his / : $ quietly bubbling up in the center, a u. Its waters were clear and limpid. The bottem was clearly visible, as well as the sides. There was not a irace of either Yellowstone or the witch! Where had they gone? With a cry of norror Brindle Joe tumbled down the white curb and dashed swiftly down the valley. But he did not run far before he checked himseif, and glanced back. Then he uttered, huskily: ' **Durned ef I do! I tole Yellowstone I'd see it through, an’ I will—or die for’t! He's gone—I feel it in my bones. ’Tain’t likely he'll ever be let come back, but she will—she did oncet, fer this makes twicet I’ve see’d her jump in thar. An’ when she does come, she'll find me. Mebbe ’twon’t do no good —but I’]l shoot her ef powder an’ lead kin do the job, S’pcesin’ it don’t—what then? Mebbe she'll take me to whar Jack is!’’ and, strange as it may seem, the | rough trapper found consolation in the idea! It was no common bond that united the trappers. Their love for each other was stronger and purer than that existing between most brothers. | Brindle Joe retraced his steps and crouched down beside the curious mound already referred to. Then, | with cocked rifle he watched the medicine spring. He had scarcely settled himself in this position, when he sprung to his feet with a lowcry. A strange souud came to his ears, faint and indistinet, but in- describably sweet. It seemed like one singing in the distance, nor could he tell from what direction the sound proceeded, though he slowly circled round the mound, He could see nothing unusual. The valley seemed upinhabited save by himself. “Tus some spook business,’’ he muttered, as he doggedly seated himself in his’ former position. * Mebbe they want to skeer me away—let °em skeer an’ be durned!” The singing ceased as abruptly asit had begun, ard then Brindle Joe heard a faint sound just above his head. Glancing up, he caw a figure standing upon the mound, and quickly flung up his rifle. But be- fore he could shoot, the shape disappeared, Now thoroughly aroused, the trapper dropped his rifle, aud with bared knife clenched betwixt his teeth, he scaled the mound. This was a difficult task, for the sides were hard and slippery, save here and there a slight knob or projection. As he gained the top, a cry of astonishment broke from his lips. his mound has been spoken of as a sort of trun- cated cone, evidently composed of the same sub- stance as that surrounding the Boiling Spring. But now Brindle Joe found that the cone was but a shell - -that it contained a hollow, shaped like tlie inside of an ironpot. The sides were smooth and even; a ) few points or knobs could be seen, but nothing la | enough toconceal a kitten. And yet there was noth- ing to be seen of the figure that he had just caught a glimpse of Little wonder that he was surprised. “Tt's the devil’s work!” gasped Joe, tremblingly. | “Yit thar’s Yellowstone! Mebbe thar trap down thar—mebbe it’s only tricks, a’ter all.” With this the trapper attempted to descend the hollow. His foot slip down with ‘and he bum more speed than comfort. D his bruises, od on every side for a Not even a crack in search in vain. s ahole ora. | the hard, smooth sicbstance could he discover. Mad with disappointment, he stamped heavily upon the side. It seemed solid. There was no echo, CHAPTER XVII. AT LAST, Fortunate indeed was it for Mat Mole that the weird woman did not repeat her blow. As it w; the outlaw lay senseless for more than an hour, it was nearly twice that length of time before he recovered sufficiently to resume his course. He had not caught a glimpse of his assailant, but immediately jumped to the conclusion that it waa Pethonista, the Blackfoot chief, who had dogeed his steps and felled him with a coward’s blow, that he might carry out his first intentions. The position of the moon told bim that a long time had elapsed since the stroke; far too long for him to hope to overtake his assailant that night, even if he could strike the right trail, And so he made the best of his way through the hills toward his camp. At least John Warren’s party should not escape him. But, as the reader knows, he was doomed ‘to dis- appointment in this matter, elso. Before he could reach the valley in which he had Jeft his followers and Blackfoot allies, he heard the sound of firea: and from the direction, knew that the emigran train had been attacked. He knew then that the impetuous Night-wallcer had grown impatient at his long absence, andhad made ‘he attempt. Hic knew, too, that his men would not allow the Blackfeet to attack alone, lest they should discover the chest of gold he had spoken of. “They'd no right to move without my orders, curse them!” snarled the outlaw. ‘But then, maybe *tis for the best, after all. I don’t believe the girls have ‘had time h the train, since that traitor to reach Eagle struck me such a foul blow, and if not, we can easily pick them up to-morrow. Guess Id bet- ter go look after the boys, any! Ten to one they'll get to blow mong themselves 6ver the gold,”’ But tl ; Mole y taling far too much for £1 : ead of dine his nen gre ae oe 4 hel ctra brel 3 bad 1, ful cf their m ec Vein] ile or bied : uncoinmon dat ing, ] : ' ; Le the fret ones te 1 propor: t] not ist lL fe » diction- ; 3} I poss brief over ft ceedin ’ 12 Lg 4 his confed- erar : ‘ the re i Cf thit 24 Cer. tainly th ice of rec angel vas no sinecure, Assun c mani of they an of he ccfeated parties, | : n of all poiuts of observation to watc! igrai and to await reinforce ments, fo 1runners had been dispatched. This done, tl de then had time totlink of his own yersonal ; Where was Minnie? Where the Eagle? Had Ik borne her away’ If so, where, and for what pur ose? Wasit possible that the « hief was bofrienc ing the girls and was aiding them to reach their friends Reasoning thus, Mat Mole scouted chrough tlie hills and around the emigrants’ camp, in hopes of scl¥ing his doubts one way or another, A little after day- break he struck the trail left by the weird woman, some distance beyond the point where she had sa- luted the rival parties fighting for possession of the train, and his keen, well-trained eye soon discovered the prints of a small, slender foot, that he knew could only belong to one of the two maidens. J] oping it would prove to be Minnie’s trail, he exerted his ut- most skill for over an hour, losing the trail fully as many times in a hundred rods, finally being thrown entirely off the scent. For more than an hour he searched for the contim- uation of the trail, but in vain. And then, as oneis apt to do when sorely puzzled, he wandered on aim- lessly, deep buried in thought. All at once he gave a start “an stooped over some object that caught his raze. “Tt’s the same track—only I don’t see the girl’st” he muttered, eagerly. “Still, she is such a light weight, this ground wouldn't take much of a trail from her. I'll follow it, now, or bu’s: something,” Calling allhis <killinto play, Mat Mole did follow the trail until it led him to the foot of a pile of rocks that he knew formed one end of Bad Welf canon, They evidently passed over this, and after some hesi- tation he resolved to follow it to the end. Once in the canon he picked up the broken trail, and found less difficulty in following ii, though still he could see no signs of Minnie’s having passed along there. Shortly after this Mat Mole heard a rifle-shot, min- gled with a shrill yell (bat could only proceed from the lips of a death-stricken Indian; and knowing that the enemies of the Indians were equally his foes, the outlaw lost no time in caching. A few minutes later he beard a yell from belo and then a wild, strange figure glided swiftly his covert. ‘The brief esnipoe he had did not car ry recognition with it, and he believed the fugitive was an Indian, He had about decided to follow ef ter, to learn what had occurred, when he heard raj id footsteps, and cowered back. Yellowstone Ji and Brindle Joe dashed past him. Mole had never met them before, nor did he care particularly about making their acquaintance, He heard a rifle-shot from above, and then started on down the canon, thinking he had good his retreat before the mountain men should soon He could see now, from the fresh trail as he passed over a moist, was the there was see! as person he had nothing for him to hope from that « b Vs better make. ae. a ie ee epee FO SE a
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Rig would make the best of his way out of the canon end return to his camp, trusting that matters would e all right.in due course of time. And so he blindly rushed upon his doom! Suddenly Mat Mole crouched down beside a rock, half-raising his rifle. But after a keen glance at the Suspicious object he arose and advanced. **A body—that then accounts for the shot and yell I heard,” he muttered, as he stooped over the Mangled heap. ‘‘ As I live, ‘tis the Eagle!’ he added, in surprise, catching up the left hand and looking at | closely. ‘“‘The middle finger missing, and here is my name, as I pricked it the day we took that oath to be brothers forever.” ; Mat Mole was so deeply interested in this discovery that he did not hear the faint rustling sound as the bushes parted behind him, nor the stealthy step asa wild-looking figure stealthily glided nearer and near- er, an expression of horrible exultation resting upon the haggard features and glowing in the large, sunk- en eyes, Then a hoarse, snarling cry sounded in his ears, aad he was forced to the ground, while iron fingers seemed fairly tearing his throat out. In vain his strugcles—though more than ordinarily strong, the cutlaw was now in the hands of one beside whom he was a very infant. “At last—at last! I've got ye at last, Zene Kal- loci!’ snarled the giant, whirling his captive over wpon his back, and glaring into his face. ‘* Look at me—do ye know me? Hev I changed so much? It’s your work, then—you made me what I am—an’ now you've got to pay for it, Zenas Kalloch!” “T ain’t Zenas Kalloch. There’s some mistake,” faltered the outlaw, as his throat was released. “Don’t lie—don’t lie to me. I know ye—an’ you know me, too; I kin see it in your eyes. An’ now Tye got ye d’y’ know what I'm goin’ to do, Zene Kal- loch? I’m goin’ to kill ye—not allto one’t. No—no! that’d be too great a blessin’ for sech as you. TPve got to pay ye fer all—fer her—fer Mary, fer her mother, who died o’ a broken heart over her chil’s disgrace—fer myself—fer everythin’. It’s a big det } ’ but it’s got to be paid, es far es your or’nary life kin ayit. See—thisis the way. I’m goin’ to pay it—by nehes!”’ CHAPTE XVIII. RETRISU SION, Hasten as Campbell and John Warren mfrht, fully aa hour was occupiel in traversing the ledge to the point where the scout’s too fatal aim had killed Ka +l6 while nobly ke2ping his pledge, Campbell drew back, » finger upon his lips. * Bs cautious—she is there, and seems to be either sleeping orsin a faint, If awakened suddenly, like a8 297 she will rush over the ledge before she know it, thinking you are an enemy. Creep past me, and stant 30 you can catch her if she springs up.” _ John Warren obeyed, and then balled the maiden by nina. She did not answer, but lay still and mo- tionlsss as thouxh dead, A wild fear assailinz him, he stepped forward and grasped her arm. Witha low cry of terror, the girl awok +, and struggled des- perately to free herself. Only for Campbeli’s pre- cautions another traze ly would have occurred. As it was, Ala soon recognized her uncle, and sunk sob- bing upon his breast, nor could she answer his ques- tions for some minutes, She had been sorely over- tasked, since the bursting of the pouderee, and when she saiv her guide and protector’ hurled over the led ze to deathyshe fell back in a deathlike swoon. From that she fortunately sunk into a heav sleep else, in her half-distracted condition, she would have fled from the terrible spot, only to fall a victim to her azitation along that perilous trail. “Wait until we get up to the level ground,” impa- ‘tienttly said Campbell, checking the emigrant in his incoherent questions. ‘‘ We are in danger here, and discovered good-by to our lives as well as the pe of regaining your daughter.” @ young scout lent Ada what assistance she 2d, with a quiet respoct that was very grate- Wild yell cama from below—one of acony the most intense, followed by a burst of devilish lauch- ter. Tho men interchanzed glances. Tne same thought could be read in their eyes. They believed the shriek came from the lips of Frank Maynard, We can do hinno good now," muttered Camp- bell, gloomily, “Tyoul 1 beallkover before we could return. Bosides, ho isa man; and we havea helpless woman hore tosave. We must push on. As Ala could seareely move one other, tho emigrant raised her in his strong arms, and the party progresseq more rapidly. : placed more at ease, Ada briefly told her stor~, 0 Seribing 23 well as she was able, the man who had rted hor from Minnie, . Tis Mat. Mole—the y far,” said Cumpbell. ’ ; Aere is one comfort in i, thouch. Her lifo is safs in his hands. ¢ So checr Mp, old man. Your daughtor shall be restored to f mortal man can do jt,” hour later they safely entered the corral. attending to Ada, Camp- Sccurred, and asked for y Christian burial ud upon his mur- ped forward, ~ cg the ree men. ese ough, since his object was to lision, t directly ard, upper end of upon the foot- e ¢ |; &21Lew questions, 14 - $ | DACK IK | roturned to question him. foot before an- | | confidence. min who has followed you s9 | “ T ° ~ Yellowstone Jack. faint cries and screams from ahead. There could be no mistaking this. It was the complaints of some one who was being subjected to torture. Though expressing intense agony, the voice seemed that of one well-nigh exhausted. “There’s the devil's own work going on there,” muttered Campbeil, hoarsely. ‘‘ Look to your wea- pons, but don’t burn powder until I give the word,” added the scout, as he resumed his progress. A few more minutes sufficed to carry them to the point from whence the torture could first be seen, aud the entire party abruptly halted, fairly sicken- ing with horror and disgust. The naked body of a human being was suspended by t:. feet to a pine tree, his hanu» bound firmly to the trunk, so that he was held motionless, head downward. Before him stood a wild, blood-stained figure, flourishing a keen knife, with which he was literally flaying the anhappy wretch alive, by inches atatime! Long strips of skin swayed to and fro as the bared muscles quivered with the torture. The victim was a mass of blood from head to foot. His voice was faint and weak. Evidently his race was well-nigh run. A Keep under cover,” Campbell whispered, to his men. ‘I believe I know both those men. If so, our young friend may be safe yet.” Drawing a revolver, the scout glided rapidly yet noiselessly forward, keeping behind the madman, who was too busily cngaged in his long deferred ven- geance to take heed of aught else, and then Camp- bell dealt him a quick, heavy stroke upon the back of his head with the brass-bound revolver bust that fellad him like an ox in the shambles. ‘*“Come up, lads, and help me loose this poor de- vil, though ees t suppose you'll fee much sympa- thy for him when you know it’s Mat Mole, the same | one who has brought all your trouble upon you.” The moaning wretch was gently lowered to the bloodstained ground, and then Campbell added: ‘* Dose him; if possible, I want him to answer me Do the best you know how Igo see if young Maynard is all right.” Campbell found Frank in @ sort of stupor. T horrible cries and sounds from withou l was to learn their cause or purpor & fitiie. Foaring | Mo.2 sh ’ , unable as he had thrown him mild die too soon , the scout But the outlaw w vas already a few minutes later d insensible to pain, and final breath. Campbell had learned what a sad error he had made in shooting the Earle for an enemy, and buried manglod corpse ina denp cleft, covering it with boughs, rocks and earth. in another spot the out- law was buried. Then a rude litter was made, and Maynard placed upon it, The giant, who seemed now another per- son, sinec tho outlaw’ ath, was unbound, and though watched, quietly walkec beside the rest. The wo. .ded man was safely conveyed to the cor- ral, where he was greeted as one risen from the dex.t. But he still remained buried in that deep, heavy stupor that looked like death. CHAPTER XIX. YELLOWSTONE JACK IS ASTONISHED, Ir was with a sensation of unutterable horror that Yellowstone Jack felt himso!” dragged into the Boil- ing Spring by >» weird woman, but the catastrophe could not bo avvuided, struggle as he might. And then ho felt the bony fingers of the hag clutching and tearing at his flesh like the claws of some infu- riated animal. A dim, peculiar light—like the “shadow of a light °—then slowly dawned upon him. A strangely sweet sound came indistinctly to his ears, drowning the painful ringing in them, Wild visions seemed to float before him, alluring, tantalizing. But when he strove to grasp them, he found his limbs powerless. A spell seemed upon him. And yet he could move his eyes, he could breathe; the atmosphere was warm, there was a peculiar odor eee ible, What did it all mean? Could this be the ‘other world?” Was he dead? If not, then where was he? No, Yellowstone Jack was not dead, though for some time he was in great doubts upon this point. But then as his brain grew clearer, the unearthly Sweet sound changed to the voice of some one sing- ing a plaintive air at no great distance, and he could see that he was beneath the ground, his feet still lying in the water. “Somes more spook business, I reckon,” the scout his muttered Unéasily, focling at his belt; then as he | t found his knife still in i‘s sheath, he gained more a knife, an’I reckon I’m es-good a man es he is; anyway, Lilmake it es lively es I kin for’em, ef they ik to play off any o’ thar tricks on me./’ ho singing had n 1 just distinguish two voices, as though iu conver- sation, Drawing his knife, ho crept forward a; si- lently as_possible. His progress was almost immo- diately checked by what seemed to be a rods-wall. The voices appeared to pass through this. Yct, as he carefully folt of the obstruction, he found it gradually retreated upon éither hand, like an enocr- mous column, Following up the right hand curve, the trapper found the light steadily increasing in brillianey; then he abruptly paused, with difficulty checkin? an exclamation of wondering surprise. And truly ‘twas a s'range scene that met his gaze. A rude, gourd-shell lamp was suspended in the air, esting a flickering, uncertain light around. The floor here, that had been gradually rising ever since Yellowstone Jack left the water's edge, was eleva- ted nearly to the hight of his head. e walls were hung with ane Se articles of Indian dress and use, various SO wees Fee me Moree rows, hatcheta, knives even rifles, ; while | | who treated you so rudely,” “Black Harris whipped one on *em wi’ | yw ceased, and Yellowstone | Seated upon a pile of furs, were two human . —or “spooks,” as the superstitious trapper dev tae believed—conversing together. Though widely-dit fering types they were both beautiful—in that flick. ering light, startlingly so. Blonde and dbrune; the one dressed in civilized costume, though sadly wora and frayed, the other in Indian dress, beaded broidered and feather-worked. This the warning note. “You sigh,” suddenly said the brune, in a clear — musica] voice that strangely thrilled the listening trapper. “And can you wonder—after what I have told 7g you? Just think what has occurred since yes morning! The storm—the frightful runawa; rescue from what seemed certain death—then murdered—!”’ “Do not weep,” soothingly uttered the other, ca- ressing the soft, brown locks of her com we “ At least your life is spared.” ay ‘**And for what? Better had you let that fearful” ~ woman kill me at once—what have I to live for now? ~~ oe as are dead—all murdered! And lam ere— : * With one friend, at least, lady. Mother hashad ~~ spelis—at their worst when the moon is full—butI 7 can do anything with her. Now that I have claimed ~~ you as a friend, she will never lift finger against you. ~ 4 We will try and make you happy until you can be ~ restored to your friends,” ‘**T have none—they are all dead—murdered!” Va “Perhaps not. hey were strong in numbers amd courage. They may have defeated the Indians, I ‘a asked mother to learn what was the result when she went forth this morning. She should have returned before this, Perhaps I can see her.” Yellowstone Jack saw the girl move toward him, and shrunk back tremblingly. He was not yet f assured of her being mortal flesh and blood. She did not follow him. Instead he heard a faint, creak ing noise; and then, a moment later, the figure re appeared, seemingly excited about something. “There’s a& man outside—perhaps the very ong she whispered, breatix lessly, yet distinctly. “Brindle Joe, Til .bet a mule!” thoucht Yellows: stone, and his courage rose wonderfully. ** EY sha kin git out, so kin L f they're spooks, then they know I’m here, an’ if they ain't, I reckon [Dm Miaa enough to han ‘le two gal-critters.”’ Reasoning thus, the trapper stepped boldly for Both shiunk a but the darkest one quickiy clutched a bow pointed a feathered shaft full at the héart of the in : truder, liowstone Jack did not flinch, though he held up his open hands in token of anity. “T don’t mean either on ye no harm, leddies—4 I'd ’a’ hed my way, I wouidn’t ‘a’ come in a” tall | ward, confronting the women. Fact is, I was brung hyar mightily ag’inst my wil? ’ . . : “Who are you—what do you want?’ demanded the UPuUTA. “T'm a man—leastwise I ty to-be one. Felks call me Yallerstone Jack, though my old man an’ woman they called me John Henery Andrew Jackson Har vey. As to t’other question, that’s easier answered, I want out.” At this moment there came a dull, thumping sound from the wall behind Yellowstone J. ack, and ae quickly, he started back with a low cry, involunta) ly drawing his knife. A shadowy figure brushed him and sunk dowa upon the pallet of skins, with a faint moan. It wap that of the weird woman, who had dragged the wap- per into the spring. ng 4 ‘‘Mother!”’ cried the dark maiden, kneeling be- de her. “Peace, child—you candomenogovud. The shades are gone now, and’I can see things clearly. Lam dying—there! Why should you cry out and staré back like that? Did I not say I was goihg to rest— to peace and everlasting repose? Blessed be the hand that sends me to rest at last!’’ / “Mother, you are bleeding—what could—” ** Peace, Kate—I am/beyond your aid, and T thank God that it is so. And you, stranger,” she ad feebly beckoning to Yellowstone, “‘come ncarer. know you now, fcr an honést trapper, for I am ng longer mad. I believe I can trust you—l must— there is no one else. “Fold my hand, Kittie, pet—I am sinking fast, I can feel a dropping, dropping here—in my heart— that tells me my minutes are numbered, Dry your ears—why doyou weep at my good fortune? » And they pain me, too. I would not like’ to leave you weeping. And listen—I have much I woukl like te tell you before I go home.” “fi? you swaller a little o’ this it ‘ll give you stren'th,” ventured Yellowstohe, producing .a small leathern flack of whisky, some that he had pro- cured at the train. “Thanks—I may need it. Now, Kittie, listen.” The dying woman in a faint, husky voice thus told | the story of her life; a sad, mournful tale of sin and suilering. ‘The reader will not require its repetition here, since portions of it have already been recorded, She,was ithe sister of Bob Harris, the wife of Jethre Cowles, the woman who.ran away with Mat Mole— or Zenas Kalloch, as he was really named. Tiring of her finally, he sold her to Neepaughwheece, the mutilated gant chief of the Blackfeet, and whea she had reproached him with what she had given wp for his sake, he struck her a brutal blow that tled her brain. Shortly after she fled from the Indians, takirig with her a captive called Kittie, wha, for several years, had. called her. mother, who, Ie. d had never known other kindred. a i ~ sald an \ rea? “ Gs Fu a ba * fh 3 ‘ a rat \ si \ +, ua a 4 a " oS | Se’ ne , T ‘ Wi re s of ., as fF tI ne : a ey S re.
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)) the trapper. bk i ie It was nearly an hour before Minnie could get Kit- | > the last wishes of the dead. raised her head. F bad spell was upon her. * “ Fy t, and Neepaughwheese, whosé favorite squaw | had just lost her first-born, preserved you to take its | | quickly carry one into the mound. | been a spring, in ages gone by, and gradually sub- | | of the death-grapple, there came ~ “You have an honest face,” turning abruptiv t **T Lave no oneelse to look to. Can trust you?” “T reckon you kin. I don’t brag much in the way ® beia’ a good man, but this I kin say, I never stole | other feller’s traps or furs, onless mebbe ‘twas a ine’s. I never killed a livin’ critter ‘cept in fair Inever—’ Twill—musi trust you. These helpless beings— : ou—protect and—try to restore them—to—” *“Tildomy best,” quictly responded Yellowstone, “Kittie—iny child—your hand. It’s growing dark ” headfell back. The weird woman was dead. tiie Mung herself upon the corpse, weeping bit- | | ed youth, even had the emigrants believed it prudent. | oe nie gently motioned to Jack, and drew aside. he anxiously questioned him, and great was her j: ¥hen he assured her that her father was still alive well, And when the trapper went on to tell how a: had left friends. about to rescue Ada,.how t*ey ) had found Frank Maynard alive, though wounued, Seemed as though her heart would burst. She verod his hard hand with kisses, ending by hang- Broad his neck and sobbing hysterically. ‘ nd Jack—poor fellow!—stood there almost fear- i to move, feeling awfully queer and deliciousi fiserable, something rising in his throat as tickets ; ees choke him, And then, with a snort that _ eompany. f During this interesting bit of by-play, neither of » them had noficed the continued thumping upon the \j wall, and just at this moment, when Jack’s fortitude i Ve Way, @square portion of the wall suddenly gave Yo 1 : j ) wayand a dark figure shot down through the open- ine, witha grunt, of surprise and horror. ‘Brindle Joc, by the pppin remineezers!”’ “Yellowstone Jack—ti thort the spooks—oh, thun- der!” and the trapper jumped to his feet, eying Min | tin’ back az’in, ye know,” laughed the trapper, en- ©) Joying his comrade’s dismay at the unexpected com- in which hé found himself, tter, muss, In’t be s’prised ef the ‘in to-night, an’ spose you cain’t ‘| Jé seams an age since I nstead of only a few hours. doubtfully toward the still But and weeping talk her over. She cain't stay hyar ' i¢. Tell her she will be wi’ ¢ is; besides, the old teddy wished it. Go now, while I take a look outside.” ret u MUsv tie to listen to reason, and then only by repeating But at length she “T will obey, since she wished if, though it is like tearing the very heart from my body to leave her and this place. Iwas happy here for years. She Was ever kind and gentle toward me, even when the And now—dead—dead !”” “She is better off,’ softly uttered Minnie. ‘You heard her, say that she welcomed death as a happy release from a living death.’ |* The body was composed and wrapped in the furs ‘that had often served as its bed. What tomb was so secure, so fitting, as that in which she had found refuge for so long? Kittie knelt, with Minnie, and breathed a prayer forthe repose of the dead, and then signified her readiness to depart. Passing through the square aperture, Kittie raised the cover tliat secured the spring which held it in fis place. And the tomb of the weird woman—of ' the Witch of the Enchanted Valley, was forever » dosed, never to be entered again by mortal being. ' Yellowstone Jack and Brindle Joe gallantly assist- ed the women to descend, and then the quartette, with the keen-eyed trapper in advance, started for the ts’ camp. CHAPTER XX. VICTORY IN DEFEAT. Jack and Brindle Joe brought into play their utmost skill, and managed to convey Min- nie and Kittie safely to the emigrant camp, with- out coming info collision with any of tho skulking enemy. And yet the young trapper had found time to solve the mystery that still hung around the Boil- ing Spring. A few adroit questions to Kittie brought f§ about. There: was no further need of conceal- ment, since ‘twas very unlikely that she would ever revisit the retreat. By means of a piece of prepared hide, the weird ‘woman had hidden an open in the side of the toward the mound. Firmly P campr to the the surface of the spring, and the skin curtain hung am | Jack. | ously down upon the | the emigra | dead and disabl “boiling ” from heat, since this spring had leng been (and is still) noted for its magic powers, both as a tonic and a means of ‘“‘making medicine,’ and men came scores of miles simply to quaff its waters—and | skin, the running water would | the Brigade!” pressing against the jdea—a vivid tion realize some of t] but “(] erless to picture the wil ble wh ile. The hes was met by : diong charge of the Blackfeet and outlaws deliberate, Glosely-aimed \ rifles <i horses and riders. was not even momentarily checked. The survivors, | yelling and screeching like veritable demons, dashed on a8 though they meant to override the substantial | ) z | Warren fully understood Mat Mole’s object. wagons. Hurling their animals against the wagons, the foremost leaders leaped from the saddle, endeav- | oring to scale the barricade. They were met by pistol-shots, blows from clubbed rifles and home-thrusts: Still a few gained an en- trance, and recklessly attacking the emigrants, forced them to turn from the barricade, in order to defend their lives. And taking advantage of this, the Blackfeet, with every moment, dropped into the inclosure. Vernon Campbell raged like a lion, and wherever his tall, lithe form passed, there death reigned tri- pervs His wild war-cry rung out at intervals, and even in their madness the Blackfeet would shrink back from the terrible, dreaded Blood-Drinker. Yellowstone Jack and Brindle Joe fought side by side, carving their mark in bloody, indelible charac- ters upon the bodies of their foes. And yet there was one who s ssed them all in acts of daring, strength and bloodiness. This was the giant, Jethro Cowles. His madness seemed to have returned with the sounds of battle, and he plunged into the melee with a frantic delight that found vent in hoarse, roaring shouts. His wea- pon was an iron crowbar that he had picked up from where it had beeh used to roll over stones to strength- en the barricade. This he wielded with as much ease as though it had beenareed. He never had need to repeata blow. Wherever the iron descend- ed, death followed. Heads wereshattered like gourd limbs were crushed to atoms, and bodies mangle¢ beyond recognition, Two arrows. already quivered feather deep in his broad chest. Blood streamed from a dozen other wounds. Yet no savage arm seemed strong enough to touch his life. And thus the furious death-grapple raged for full half an hour. But bravely, desperately as the emi- grants fought, they were terribly outnumbered. Al- ready their ranks were fearfully thi while two to forward to take end was near, They must | | 2 1 furi- | } Cecirsion, | interfere, Ney from | that covered the ground with | But the rush | | health. | sacred with his mother and father. | ing seene. assistance of the emigvants. Lest he should fail im finding them in time, Jack did not think it proper te excite hopes that might never be realized, and so had told no person of what he had done. The trappers, under Jim Bridger, agreed to see the train safe back to the regular trail, as their trapping season was nearly ended anyhow. And by dawn of the next day they were en rou e, Ada Maynard being conveyed in easy litters, Kittie, between whom and Minnie there had spre up an ardent friendship, decided to east her lov wi the maiden whom she had rescued from the insane fury of the weird woman. That evening, when they encamped, Campbell was | told of the words spoken by the weird woman, and | after some time, by questioning Kittie concern the past, he became convinced that she was inde his long-lost sister, whom he had thought dead-—-mas- It was an affect dohn Warren, who had so much cause for ne | grateful toward the young man, despite the fa that he had first be@, allied with the enemy, made Campbell a generous @fer if he would contin with them, at least as far as their distant destination, And, if only for his new-found sisters sake, the young sec d to bid adieu to his terrible life, long since kept his vow of yeu ut reseive reance. in due course of time: the brigade departed, bub until the emigrants had fallen in with anothes# train; with their nibined forcés, there was no dan ger to be apprehended from the Indians Does the ‘reader think it strange that Yellowstone Jack joitied the train as hunter? Of course Brindle Joe cast his lot with his “oid pard.” And Of all those who were pleased with the young trappers assuredly Campbell was not the least n no word of love speken.be- tween them; the time could not*he very far distant when it would be. And thoughVernon, Campbed shrewdly suspeeted the truth, he did not choose te Perhaps he knew how_10° sympathira with Jack. At least so Minnie mis@hievously whis- pered to the blushing Ada. Both Ada and ‘Prank soon regained their wonted And the terrible past was, by mutual ‘con- sent, never alinded to, Tt was not, until he reached California that John Then Though there hax he learned all. His brother was dead—had heen brutelly mur- dered. Suspicion bad fallen on his overseer; whose description exactly coincided with that of Gerald Manners—or the man of many names, Itseems that Warren had been quite ill, and, fearing death, ' made his will in favor of Minnie, his niece, who ever been his favorite, because she was the youth- ful image of her mother, whom both brothers had loved, thouzh John won ‘her heart and hand. He wrote a letter to John, and hired Mole to coe safely, in case of his death. But he recov Then Mole murdered him, took what ready money he had, and fled, On the road he forged a letter, re~ questing John Warren to come to California. he delivered, as Gerald Manners, and paid assidu- ous court to the unknown heiress, but in vain, Frank Maynard already possessed her heart, Then he concocted the diabolical plot which he afterward attempted to carry out, ending,in his discomfiiee and horrible death. John Warren ete his relationship and came into the murdered man’s property. Six months later there was a triple wedding a& he eae Caen c rave bdr gs hi aynard and Campbell have n taken into,part- nership by Warren, while Yellowstone Jack is theit trusted overseer and ‘head man.” Brindle Joe still leads a single life, but sticks close- ly to his old pard. Wild horses couldn't pull iim away. He is self-constitutrd “head nurse’ of the establishment—and has his hands full, too. Young can scarce boast a family of branches.” No. 1—Dendwood Dick, the P h ;! Te a nett eee hie THE END. ad’ or » at i % Wo, 2—Kanses King 4 or, The eee: Bent