Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 1135) (1903 03)
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__Copyriaar, j NO. 1135. Dandy Jack; OR, The Outlaw of the Oregon Trail. BY T. C. HARBAUGH, AUTHOR OF “ NICK 0’ THE NIGHT,” ‘‘ THE HIDDEN LODGE,” ‘‘ NIGHTINGALE NAT,” ETC. BY BEADLE & ADAMS, Published Every Month. CHAPTER I. THE OUTWITTED GUIDE. “Lost anything, stranger?’ The person thus abruptly addressed started from the stooping position at which he had been surprised and wheeled upon his questioner. ‘Lost anythin’? I should reckon I had!” he ejaculated in a tone of mingled rage and disgust. ‘'I’'ve been an infarnal fool, an’ feel like whip- in’ Lige Butler all over. ’‘m mad—mad as a hull mad-house! at this partic’lar time the maddest man in Oregon. Say, whar do you hail from, an’ hev ye see’d anythin’ of a kivered wagon hitched to two hosses_ any whar in yer travels? Ef ye hev, blurt it out, fur I’ve lost them partic’lar things—lost ’em last night by actin’ the blarsted greenhorn—me, Lige Butler, what has tramped this kentry fur nigh onto twenty years!” He did not give his auditor a single moment in which to answer his question, but vat on at a break-jaw speed until he was obliged to pause to catch his breath. ‘* Hevn’t seen a thing ’cept- in’ a few Snakes these three days,” answered the first speaker, who, from his perch on the back of a well-to-do horse, seemed to be studyin the personnel of the uncout individual who had twice aHuded to himself as Lige Butler. ‘“‘Uncouth,” I say, for that word in a nut-shell describes the gaunt specimen of aAumanity who, towering six feet above his moccasins of buffalo-hide, stood before - man rg ose lamas His ace tann on. iS go to wind and foe iP ae d not have been unhandsome if he had thrown the shaggy locks of dark hair that lay on-his forehead back beneath the coon-skin eap he wore, and kept his beard in the neigh- borhood of a comb. His gar- ments consisted of that half- civilized costume seen to-day along the numerous wagon- trafis in the Far West, and his wea) rifle, — 1 and bunti ife added to his ish appearance. ~ pm SS Vi. 8. FEVERS & CO., Publishers, (JAMES SULLIVAN, PROPRIETOR), 379 Pearl Street, New York. The man in the Mexican saddle was better clad, cleanlier in appearance and passably good- looking. But he had evil eyes in his head which began to sparkle maliciously when he first set them upon the gaunt man bending over the trail. A lazo hung from the saddle-horn. It was in the brief twilizht of a summer day that the meeting just described took place. Not far to thé south rolled the majestic Oregon, and it was in the midst of that well known wagon- trail so fatal to the early emigrants that Butler stood. He had emphasized the truth when he said that he was “the maddest man in Oregon.” Rage flashed from the depths of his deep-set eyes, and while he talked, he kept hammering the stock of his rifle with his great fist. “Tl tell ye how it war, stranger,” he said, coming up to the rider with one great stride. ‘‘ An’ when I git thro’ jest_git off an’ kick me inter the river down thar, I left Council Bluffs YM iar BBE WAGON WAS THUNDERING TOWARD THE — Vol. XLV. with twenty-three wagons in good trim, an’ hyar Tam with none. But [ anticerpate, whieh isn’t a fair shake when‘a fellar’s tellin’ a stony. I felt jubious about the train all along, an’ jaxs as I jedged, they got scared *bout Injuns am kept droppin’ off. We hed sixteen wagons when we got to Laramy an’ ten would’t budge from thar. I cussed, stamped an’ argued, but it was [no go; an’, biilin’ over at the sneaks, but not half as mad as I am now, I led the rest on. At Fort Hall, up thar at Henry’s Fork, they got what they call a panic, an’, swamp me, stranger! if fourteen wagons warn’t fur stoppin’ thar, ar* arter a rest, goin’ back. Fourteen wagons outen sixteen! jest think of it. Butthe two backbone; why the boy—I called ‘im Dandy Jack, fur he war as pert a fellow as I ever guided—swore he’d go on to the coast ef he’d hev to hoof it alone.” “Thar’s courage in little hearts,” observed Long Lige’s single auditor as the narrator paused to consult a plug of Embry evidently his last from ths mournful manner in which he eyed it as he returned it to his capacious pocket, “Courage? I shend reckon Lng fe said. ‘‘Thet y, Dandy Jack, isn’t afeard ov all the red-skins on the lains. Wal, we kept on. ar war eleven ov us now. I had promised the boy to take him through, an’— hokey I’m goin’ to do it yiti But we met with an ace- dent. Up atthe mouth ov Raft, one of the men took sick. It war a queer kind o’ sickness; he got ots all over him an’ died. e war our bestman. Ther everybody began to git sick, It warn’t in the climate, stranger, fur I’ve taken tee many over the Oregon trail. I'm not goin’ to express my opinion jest now; but,”—the fist came down hard upon the Tifle-stock—“‘ [ve one! Wal, everybody in the lead wagon died, ’ceptin’ the L an’ she didn’t appear to afia all. Curious wasn’t it? That green-spotted disease, what- ever it war—an’ mind Ive got an opinion—took a® but four: me, the gal, an’ a man i Whittles!” e gaunt man’s teeth ted Tanshly behind the word. “Tt war the T ever heerd on, ued. “‘I buried the dead, ir the gal inthe wagon eft an’ kept on. e got hyar last night; if war just getting dark like it be now. ow it isn’t hand to take oe train from hyar to coast, ef the guide knows his bust ness, an’ I fancied thet i knowed mine. ‘Yes, Iryar's whar we squatted fur the PRICE 5 CENTS. 50c. a year.
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night, feelin’ bad about the dead, ov course, but e tin’ no Injunraid. Dandy Jack was roastin’ a slice of buffler-rump as I had Varn’t him on the route; when’ Luks Whittles came in an’ said that thar was suspicious characters down at the river. ; ** Injuns?” sez I, reachin’ the gun. “Don’t know, but it’s suthin’, thai’s sartin,” he said, an’ tellin’ the two young ’uns to take care o’ themselves fur a time, Luke an’ me left camp. a We got down to the place whar he said he had see’d the suspicious characters; but thar warn’t thesign o’ man thar; I told him that his eyes hed fooled ’im, but he doubted it. Then it war, stranger, that I made a fool outen ‘oie salf. He wanted me to wait at the place till he could scout down the river, an’ bless me! ef I didn’t wait! We war nigh a mile from camp an’ thar I sot fur half an hour, but no Luke, Mad? I war the maddest man in Oregon, an’ Tm that identical individual yit. All at once, icker’n lightnin’, I broke back to the wagon. t war gone, stranger; thar warn’t a sign o’ Dandy Jack, the gal, nor Luke Whittles. Why; the fire hed been put out—nuthin’ left! It all into my head. The mean, pusillanimous skunk! to think that he come a game over Lige Butler what has tramped this trail ever since it’s been one—that’s what riles me! Don’t I know now why we hevn’t see’d an Injun since we left Fort Hall? They kept back jest to lull my suspicions, an’ give him a chance. What hev I been doin’ since daylight, stranger? Why walkin’ up an’ down hyar cussin’ Lige Butler fur lettin’ such a sneak scamp as Luke Whit- tles fool him! I’m mad yet; but I hev got down to business. The trail leads right toward the Snake country, an’ if War-Bow an’! Luke ain’t hand in glove in this diabolical outrage, then I miss my guess. Mebbe as how that chap called Oregon Leon has got a oy al in the pie. Tf he’s fond o’ gals it’s more’n likely, fur she was uncommon pretty. I’ve never sot eyes on that rascal ’ceptin’ at a distance, He’s about your size, stranger, I should jedge.” “That is what others tell me,” the man. in ~, the die said. ‘Like yourself, I have never met this bandit. But, what are you goin’ to do? If Luke Whittles, as you call him, gets into the Snake country with his Ug: whi the hunting of him will be uncommonly gerous,” ““Mebbe so, but whar he kin go, Lige Butler kin foller. I don’t care if War-Bow, Oregon Leon an’ Luke Whittles all three hed a hand in the diviltry, ’'m goin’ to foller an’ git the wagon and its little ones back. I’m the maddest man in m, an’ worse than a nest of rattlesnakes mouth. ‘The little one’s got a big hold on my heart, an’ they’re goin’ to hold on till I get ’em ‘Outen the diffikilty, Who are you, anyhow?” The question so aie uping pat startled the man in the Ayame and he saw the piercing eyes fixed “ My name is John Shotwell.” ** Been long in these parts?” ** Off an’ on for five years.” “ Which way now?’ Lige had turned inte “T was on my way to thef be of any service to you—” ; ig t help mie a particle!” interrupted Butier. ‘I’m goin’italone. Ever go inte the Snake kentry? Some white men carry a permit On Paniea et these parts,” Shotwell # go an ere in these s,’ e answered with a smile. Then ye may hear ov ay Butler, the mad- dest man in Oregon, in the Snake kentry. I’m ord thar if the youngster’s trail leads to it, an’ kinder think it does.” The face of the man in the saddle suddenly tor. s; but if I can <f assumed a look of warning, and he solemnly t to the north-west. ** Yonder vince ace of _ Epegroel he saiti in low. words uttered to impress ” ¢he man who was looking into his face. ‘It is a land of death. If Luke Whittles has taken the stolen prope thither, an’ I think he has, ou t as well try to climb to the moon as to get it back. I don’t say this to frighten you, @ Butler; but to prolong your life.” *Thats kind in yer,” blurted the guide, not in the least moved by the warning. “But I’m in’ ’ inter that kentry which you call pg hes 0 death.” r .“*Then you'll never come out of it alive, for Til be thar to see that you don’t!” thundered the mounted man as he leaned suddenly toward Beadle’s Half-Dime Library Long Lige, and sént the rifle flying from his lanl by one sweep of his arm. ink The next moment the horse sharply spoken to darted forward, while the guide, with a cry of astonishment, staggered Taek **Thunder and guns!” exclaimed the lank ranger, looking around for his rifle. ‘‘ That’s queer treatment from a stranger!” His fingers closed eagerly around the rifle-bar- rel and he was rising with the recovered wea- pon when a voice came from the. darkness rap- idly settling over river and trail. ** Don’t foller the wagon, fool!” said the voice. ‘*You’ll never see its white kiver, nor its load again, for I stand between you an’ them; an’ out hyar they call me Oregon Leon!” Long Lige opened his eyes at mention of the bandit’s name, John Shotwell was Oregon Leon! “Tm right glad ’'ve met ye!” he shouted, in his rough voice. ‘“‘I’ll know ye next time, an’ afore we part fur the last time, Oregon, ye’ll find Oo that the maddest man in Oregon is worse “aan a handful of rattlers,” A scornful laugh came from the darkness, and Long Lige heard hoofs going down the hard trail. CHAPTER IL. THE BOX OF DEATH. WE have spoken of the theft; now let us seek the thief. At the time that witnessed the occurrence of the incidents first narrated, a ones wagon. known in emigrant days, and at the present time also, for that matter, as a ‘‘ Conestoga,” was moving along the edge of a prairie in a northerly direction, gradually leaving old Fort Boisse to the left. The vehicle was drawn b four strong-limbed mules, one of which was rid- den by the only man visible. This individual would not have favorably im- ressed a physiognomist, He was a stout, dark- fused fellow, of at least six-and-thirty, slouch- ily attired, from the shapeless hat that sat on his head to the dusty leathern boots heavily spurred after the manner of a Mexican ranch- ero. His face was covered with a bristly beard of a fortnight’s growth, and this, in its turn, was well filled with alkali dust. His eyes were small, deep-set, and far from having a kindly expression; in short, the man had the appear- ance of a villain. He filled the Mexican saddle with the ease of an arriero, and every now and then sent the cutting lash of the heavy black whip over the ‘ears of the foremost mules, which kept them on a trot. The ‘‘ Conestoga” lumbering on behind was untenanted so far as outward a ces went; but a precious burden was osed by its white canvas walls. Among the numerous see of goods which are usually carried by hose old-time wagons across the plains, lay a outh whose could not have been past six- fey His position pg gs him a captive, for, indeed, his hands were, cruelly bound upon his back. His head rested on a heap of blankets which had been arranged so as to form a pillow, doubtless by the fair girl who, seated near by was looking through a loop-hole in the forward end of the canvas prison. “Are we on the plains yet, Estil?” the boy asked, in a tone in which impatience was coupled to anxiety. ‘I know we’ve left_the trail, for the wagon jolts but little now. Estil, did you hear me?” ; * Yes, Jack,” was the reply, and the face par- tially averted, was turned to the boy revealin a rich and beautiful countenance. *‘ You ask if we were on the plains. We are skirting a forest of singe lookin thee that lies to our right; but I can see no trail ahead. We left the old road some time back.” r “The miserable scamp!” grated the boy rais- ing his head so as to catch a glimpse of the slouched hat through the loop-hole. Then he ates his teeth and settled’ back upon the lanket again with a sigh. Since the ap, before the Conestoga had been hurried with but two brief halts along the Ore- gon trail and across the alkali plains. ‘The whip ad never ceased to sound in the animals’ ears, and the imprecations of that merciless driver apy the air well ladened with profanity. he girl, Estil, had not beon bout by the graceless rogue. Her hands were free, but everything that had an edge had been removed from the wagon, and she was powerless to as- sist her companion. The knots of his bonds sb Gordian ones; they could be cut, but not un Lige the guide alone on the great: trail, Luke Whittles had replied that it was non of the ur fortunates’ business. Once or twice he told them that he did not intend to stop until he got to the ‘‘jumpin’ off place,” und from the manner in which he kept the poor animals on the go, _ captives were inclined to credit the asser- on. Dandy Jack, as Long has already dub- bed the boy, would teen she Whittles's in- famy if the rascal had given him the opportu- ie But the youth had been rised by Luke, who, having crept noiselessly up behind him like an assassin, threw his great weight up- on him, pening Py n3 to the earth, and making him a captive before he could speak. ‘Then bound hand and foot, as he sti remained, he was flung into the wagon, and the mules quickly harnessed to it again. e villain was forced to be expeditious, for if the old guide should come upon him before he had accomplished it ' there would be a new corpse on the trail. Nothing seem to tire that traitor; the hot rays of the sun beating upon the canvas render- ed the interior of the wagon almost suffocating; the mules were pushed forward under the keer. lash of that terrible whip, and the man riding exposed to’the furnace-like heat, seemed made of iron. The day gradually faded and the twilight came on again. The air, changing with the change of light, became somewhat cooler; but the hoofs of the jaded teams still disturbed the alkali dust that lay at the roots of the thin grass, and the evening wind took it up in suffocating clouds, enough to blind man and beast. ‘We must be going to that jumping-off place of which he has spoken,” said Dandy Jack, giy- ing the girl a faint smile ashespoke. _‘‘ Doesn’t he think that he has left old Lige far enough behind to give the mules a rest?” Before the girl could reply, a loud ‘‘ Whoa!” out upon the now pleasant air, and the vehicle came to a halt. ‘*Look out and see whats’ up, Estil,” said the boy, and his companion went forward and put her face to the opening. The Hebey had in what appeared to be the middle of a vast plain. Not the sign of a road was visible, Luke Whittles was standing erect in the ponderous wooden stirrups and gaz- ing intently forward. Estil looked in the di- rection thus indicated, but saw nothing. “Tecan’t be mistaken,” she heard the traitor say. “They aren’t buffler fur they heyn’t got the rollin’ motion. I oughter be gittin’ inter the kentry whar I should find— Injuns! by hokey!” The muleteer’s exclamation which was unwel- come to the fair auditor, drove her from her place of observation. “*T heard him!” Dandy Jack said, before she could communicate her intelligence, ‘‘ Indians! Estil, his discovery is not unwelcome to him for he would not have left the trail and come all the way into this country if he was afraid of the red-skins,” The boy captive was right. Luke Whittles was not disconce at the discovery. “Hey! what ar’ ye doin’ in thar, my leetle ones?” his rough voice suddenly cried, and his repulsive face appeared at the — “Tsay, my leetle Dandy Jack, you war ’ day be- fore esterday that you could see alot of In- uns that don’t *ve guv you that chance, fur here comes a hull heap of that kind o’ individual. They'll be here presently, so jest keep yer jacket on an’ don’t be oneasy. I fancy as how both of ye ar’ goin’ to git ed fill of the red devils afore ye git through with these parts.” Without another word the speaker turned away, and rising in the stirrups again, waved his hat above his head, executing at the same time a peculiar yell which Dandy Jack well knew was a si ink call. Luke Whittles remained in the stirrups until thirty or forty gayly-attired savages surrounded of and broke forth in exclamations of de- “Listen, Estil!”? said Dandy Jack, “They know the villain, and now I have no doubt they meet him here by agreement.” Estil, with her hand in that of Jack, and her face white but very lovely in its pallor, listened to the unintelligible conversation going on tween Whittles and his dusky visitors, ‘Yes, sir-ee, ’ve got &@ precious load!” the por heard Luke say at last, in English. “ Thar some goods in the wagon which ye kin make free with; but_ mind ye, the livin” freight ar mine. Come, /I’ll show up.” So saying, the thief leaped from the saddle, When asked for an explanation of hisconduct | and at a single jerk his hands widened the aper- in running off with the wagon and leaving Long | ture at the rear end of the cover, and instantly loaf ‘round the gov’ment forts. |
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a score of painted faces looked down upon the aptives. il shrunk from the sight with a half-sup- ressed shriek, but the boy’s eyes flashed fire at he Indians. ‘** White boy! white girl!” said one brave, in whose ears two great gold earrings were fasten- ed. ‘Pretty squaw for Oregon Leon. Boy make good Snake,” Whittles gave the speaker an approving smile, ut did not reply. Pt tied?” asked the Snake, glancing at the vaitor. **T should reckon he was,” answered Luke. ‘Why, he’s a very young wildcat. A precious time I'd hev hed gettin’ here if I hedn’t guv him the cords. Stan’ aside if his hands git loose, my red covies!” ‘* Good Snake, sure!” replied the Indian, with much apparent satisfaction. ‘‘ How boy like to be an Tadian q”? ““ About as well as you’d like to see a company of United States soldiers at this minute,” answer- ed Dandy Jack, with spirit. “I tell you now that you'll never make an Indian out of me!” The Indian and Whittles exchanged glan- ces. ‘* White brother right,” indifferent English. ‘‘ him.” The hideous faces were now withdrawn, and Luke began to search among the goods for some particular article. He climbed into the wagon and continued the hunt, but at last began to ex- hibit signs of chagrin and disappointment. ‘Tt war hyar when we started,” he muttered to himself, and then with the fire of rage in his eyes he turned upon the young couple who had been regarding him with interest. ‘* Whar’s the cask o’ brandy?” he thundered, looking at Estil. ‘‘No lyin’, girl! It war hyar when we started from the Oregon. What hev ye done with it? Speak! you little minx!” The captives saw the man’s hand tighten threateningly on the heavy whip. But Estil did ” said the former, in his Boy got much wildcat in not quail, “T threw it out long ago!” she said. ‘It is away back on the trail.” “You did?” roared Whittles, becoming purple with anger. ‘‘You did?’ and he drew the heavy whip back. ‘ Fur jist one cent I’d make a mark on yer purty face that’d last yer life out I war countin’ on that cask to conciliate them chaps out thar, an’ hyar you hed to pitca it out. Confound yer! ef it warn’t fur my bar- gain I’d open yer cheek.” With a look that would have been creditable to an arch fiend, Luke Whittles turned abruptly away and addressed the savages in the be and e words made them yell like demons, and a rush was made for the wagon. Their hands ‘quickly stripped the cover off, and they swarmed over the sides like 4 > a attacking a ship. Whittles, with shouts and wild A tried to keep them back. The villain’s face was blanched to a deathly pallor. He raised the whip menacingly several times but did not strike. His story of the loss of the cask had not been credited. ‘Don’t tech the young ’uns an’ Ill let ye look > he cried. “ Hyar’sa at spied Sas 3 I’ve pou! box a, eavy, brought cl’ar through from the Bluffs. From the way Long Lige guarded it I should say it war filled with go. d. That’s right, War-Bow; keep ’em back an’ I'll hand the things out.” While Luke addressed the infuriated Snakes his hand rested on a large tin-box brass-bound at the corners. It bore no inscription save the nea ** Precious! Keep dry,” painted on one side. He was in the act of lifting the mysterious packet’ from the vehicle when Dandy Jack’s voice was heard. Its tones were startling. ‘“There’s death in that box, Luke Whittles!” the boy cried. ‘It’s full of nitro-glycerine; enough to blow us all up!” “Niter glissereen!” gasped Whittles, starting back, and the next instant he leaped wildly from the wagon. Tke terror depicted on his pallid face is sim- ply indescribable. His mass of shaggy hair seemed to have risen on end; his eyes almost started from their sockets. In a voice of frenzy he shouted something in the Snake dialect to the Indians swarming about the wagon, and they fied in every direc- tion with ejaculations of mortal terror. “I thought Lige watched thet box kind o’ keerful like!” Whittles cried gaspingly. ‘‘ Niter i pa An’ to think thet I hey lized that xed up death behind me fur twenty-four hours an’ never knowed it!” ee ee eee SS Dandy Jack. Coid sweat stood on his brow, and he felt his blood congealing in his veins. CHAPTER If. AN EXCITING RACE FOR LIFE. A Entire, Jack! a knife! This cry suddenly welled from Estil’s throat, and with exultant mien she held before the boy’s eyes a buck-horn handle hunting-knife which she had discovered in the bottom of the wagon. The weapon had probably fallen from the girdle of one of the savages. Dandy Jack’s eyes glistened. ‘‘ Cut me loose, Estil!” he cried, ‘‘and we'll show these fright- ened fiends a trick.” Estil severed the cords which for four-and- twenty hours had held the youth in thrall, and he sprung up with a ery of joy. Pitt the box upon the rim of the end-gate and hold it there! It is not heavy!” he shouted to the girl in tones easily heard by Luke Whit- tles aon his companions, who had withdrawn to what they considered a safe distance. ‘If they approach near enough, throw it out and blow the whole of us to atoms.” Estil sprung to the box, whose weight did not exceed twelve a and easily lifted it to the position indicated. “Now, hold on!” Jack cried, glancing over his shoulder at the daring girl. ‘‘ Please Heay- en, we'll go back to Lige now, without acci- dent.’ Quitting the oney Dandy Jack threw himself into the saddle lately hy, Pra by Luke Whittles, and seized the leathern lines secured by a half-hitch to the horn of the saddle. He had no whip, for the one which had done service from Council Bluffs was in the hands of the treacherous teamster; but he soon learned that none was needed. At thesound of his loud halloo, the mules formal ond heads from the oor grass, among which they were trying to d some nourishment, and Ba a yilling: ness to go on again. ‘“* We'll try the back track!” murmured Jack, as he whirled the team about, and the next mo- ment the wagon was Cahertigy toward the Oregon trail again. A chorus of savage yells os Dandy Jack’s act of daring, and before e Whittles could interpose a hand, a shower of arrows fell around the team. ‘*You’d better not follow!” shouted the boy, who, wow Ragen in the stirrups, was urging the animals their topmost 4. “itoyvou come near, Estil will fling the death-box out and there’ll be a terrible explosion. Keep off! keep off! There’s cwo revoivers on this dle, thanks to Luxe Whitt:es,” It is doubtfu: if any of the boy’s words reach- ed the ears for which thg, were intended. The rumble of the wagon wats nearly deafening, and the almost human cries of the mules, tortured by the alkali d were pitiful in the extreme. Dandy Jack one hope,and that was that the fear inspired by the mysterious box would keep the pursuers aloof until he was able to rejoin Long Lige, whom he believed to be following the trail as rapidly as ible, Estil held the box firmly on the top of the end-gate of the vehicle, She looked like a veritable wild daughter of the lains, her wide blue sleeves waving back over er fair arms, and her hair streaming behind her like golden pennons. Her eyes were full of fire, her face flushed with excitement, and de- termined in aspect. The unwearying animals seemed to compre- hend the thrilling situation. Atleast the voice of Dandy Jack was not unfamiliar to them, for upon many occasions during the march of the caravan westward he had occupied the saddle much to their apparent joy. or when he ha charge of them the heavy lash did not cut their ears, and they heard good-natured words of command, instead of curses, And now it seem- ed that the mules wanted to repay their young master. They did not exhibit one sign of lag- ging, but kept on at a gait that was gratifying to the youth, Darkness had fairly settled over the, to the fugitives, totally unknown country. But it did not deter them in the least. They knew that their enemies were following, for dark shadows that flitted behind, as yet at a respectful dis- tance, and the whiz of an occasional arrow told them as much. That box so firmly held by Estil on the rim of the end-gate still inspired the terror attached to the most dangerous explosive in the world, and which the Indians knew as new thunder, The saddle filled by the boy was provided with a brace of holsters, ceak ge of which was filled _—, If he hailed the spire? of the moon with delight, the sight of her was none the less wel- come to the Indians. The bright light which swept over the barren like a flood, enabled them * to see the team and note its course hitherto . traced by its ceaseless rumbling, : With the appearance of the light the red de- - mons of the Cleans began to describe: great cir- cles about the team. Their fleet ponies bore them ahead of the jaded mules, and their wild cries told Dandy Jack and his fearless com- panion that they were anticipating a speedy triumph. “No stopping while the team can go!” cried the boy. very minute brings us nearer Lige, ~ and he’s worth a tribe of these red fiends.” He shouted at the mules, but shouts were not needed to a the faithful animals on. They were doing all that bottom could do, straining ev nerve to take the young fugitives back to ” the Oregon trail. But that circle of living flesh gradually con-. tracted. The Indians, seeming to believe that ming the explosion of the box would not spread death before the team, were concentrating there, and Dandy Jack saw the barbed arrow fitted to the string. They were going to rely on their stone- ti shafts as the repeating rifles, purchased at the nearest Indian agency, were not taken from their backs. Whiz! came arrow after arrow through the moonlight, falling at first harmless]y around the team or piercing the bed of the Conestoga. But their aim would soon become fatal, for every . discharge of the uhafts lessened the ce be- tween pursuers and pursued. The boy not near enough to let fly his revolvers with effect, drop- tarecd the saddle mule and its mate, holding the lines and thus shielding his body. But he had not resorted to this strange but effectual breastwork before calling to Estil to lie down in the wagon, which command was obeyed. Like lightning on the edge of the storm-cloud the red men of the plains hung about the doom-~ ed team and its occupants. Luke Whittles was not to beseen. It will be recollected that the traitor, having been abandoned by the team, was left without a ‘horse, and there was not an extra animal in the Snake band. Had the In- dians deserted their white ally? Even so it seemed. Fast and furious rained the arrows now; the animals, struck but not badly wounded by the darts, increased their speed under the pains thus oecasioned, but the increase could not last. All at once the foremost mules shied at a dark object lying in the moonlight, and amon the short grass, and before Dandy Jack coul right them the wheel struck the ill-omened thing, and the wagon, lifted from. the ground for a moment, fell heavily on its side! A fiendish yell from the throats of the In- dians greeted this accident, and at that moment they let fly a volley of arrows, which, falling among the animals plunging about in wild dis- order caused them in their frenzy to break from all control, leaving the Conestoga a wreck on the plains. ‘Alt now seemed over for the unfortunate pair! The race for life maintained so tly for three hours had come te an end, and the vub
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Beadle’s Half-Di tures of the barren were swooping down upon their victims. The wagon thrown topsy-turvy, presented the pitiable spectable of a wreck; its contents j po in disorder on the grass, but Estil its veauti- ‘ occupant was not to be seen. ‘ Fate had brought the fugitives te almost re- / | tributive disaster, for it was the identical cask | of brandy which Estil had thrown out during ' their captivity under Luke W?stles which had caused the present accident. Where was Dandy Jack? ' He was occupying a halt upright position in the saddle when the cask sent the wagon on its side, and he disappeared among the plunging beasts. But when they finally broke away, | carrying saddle and lines in their mad course over the plains, he sprung to his feet at the ; head of the wagon /ith the heavy pistols in his hands. “Stand off!” he shouted to the yelling demons rushing forward to the spoil now within their grasp. ‘A fellow may as well die here as else- ' where. I’m going to defend Estil, and our pro- ' perty to the .ast!” The reply was a shower of arrows which did not infliet any injury, although they fell all around Jandy Jack, and a number of lassoes which hung from the saddie-bows of the ponies were quickly uncoiled. But at that moment the boy sprung over the broken tongue of the Conestoga, and with the »recision and. deliberateness of a regular opened on the red-skins with the revolvers. More than one of those rapid shots told. The Snakes bewildered for 4 moment threw them- selves behind the necks of their steeds, and with wild exclamations which Dandy Jack could not understand, forced them back. “Four!” ejaculated the boy seeing that num- ber of dark objects lying on the ground, a few ards ahead. ‘‘ Four dead Indians and twenty ive ones left. [I’m almostoutof ammunition. Each of those Indians carried a repeating rifle ‘on his back. I must have them; they may save et. bound braught the boy to the dead, but to inexpressible dismay he found that the liv- probably anticipating his action, had car- his ing, ried the coveted weapons away. The yells of derision which greeted the un- welcome discovery was followed by a loud voice. ““White boy brave; but if he no gives in he must die.” Dandy Jack looked at his foes. The moon- light fell directly a them, and he saw them pera ge the deadly repeaters that hung. on eir backs. “Twenty to one; but I’ve. got three loads left Pl §3 back and stand by Estil to the last!” muttered Jack. : CHAPTER IV. SUN-DANCE, THE TLAMATH. THE * pares. ” overturnéd by the whisky . had completely buried Estil, the girl, from : Dandy Jack’s sight. He was f as he sprung back, determined to defend her to the last, that she had been stunned, if not actually , killed, the fall of the heavy vehicle, and ' once on the spot, he called her name twice, but , without receiving any reply. athe: Meanwhile the Snakes were unslinging their : repeating rifles and slowly advancing. The _ were determined to force a surrender, or to rid- _ | | die the heroic boy where he stood. »s Phey’d lift my scalp if I gave up!” Jack . gaid, to himself, ‘‘ so, what’s the use in giving in while P've got a ball left in the pistols? t! -‘ surrender to a lot of red-skinned pronecast I _. didn’t cut loose from everything in the States and come away out here to do that. Now. , come on!” he cried to the red-skins. ‘‘ We ) try the virtue of powder and lead. No surren- ‘ der! that’s the motto of Dandy Jack!” _ ‘ His defiance was received with yells by the a ah oe and before a rifle could be brought to ’ the pees oulder the boy had drop behind the - ‘wagon with pool mae “ag of ing it serve the { pu of a bre ork. ok PecoThis isn’t going to the coast, by a long shot!” | * Jack said, a grim twinkle of humor in his eyes. Piao fadtiog ated 101 mover gob tuto the fapere-— _ § the Indi and it’ll never get in @ papers— i they’ll never know at old Willow Creek how 4 Dandy Jack died.” : The young hero, as he spoke, saw the savages Rory a sudden ‘halt just beyond range of the iy ) avy revolvers which he griped in his hands. But! ished his observation before he ven- 4 eae ee » the eat ay pm : Without a single exception, the In were Jooking berg A cast, and at the same time their hands held behind their ears told that they were listening intently. “ What’s up?” ejaculated the boy, rising with mingled curiosity and hope, for from that di- rection he expected Long Lige, if that worthy came at all. As he turned his face toward the east, he heard the rapid beating of hoofs. Some person was coming at a break-neck gallop, and he was astonishing the Indians, ‘**He’s got betwixt me and the moon!” sudden- ly cried the boy as a dark object appeared on the disk of the full, round planet, as it were, and its singular motion, rising and falling, as- sured Jack that it was approaching. At length the specter, for into such a shape the grotesque object grew as it came on, hid the moon from the boy’s sight, and the thunder of hoofs was now thrillingly distinct. But as yet Jack could not distinguish the form bearing down upon him; he could not see that the person who rode the horse was an Indian! 3ut such, indeed, was the fact. * The red man was seated on a worn-out govern- ment saddle, which was strapped to his steed by means of a cavalry girth. The animal was not large, but lithe of limb and capable of great endurance; it bore its rider with ease, and came forward with its head erect and eyes full of fire. The Indian was a young buck, naked to the waist, about which his leggings were secured by an army belt faced with the traditional brass- faced plate, bearing the legend, ‘‘U. 8.” His face, for one of his tribe, was not unkindly cut, and devoid of paint. There were brass rings in his ears, and three feathers, two of which were either bent or broken, in his long, black hair— the only ornaments visible about his person if we except the breast-plate just mentioned, He was strong-limbed and muscular; that he was ‘“thard to kill,” the great scars on his breast proudly proclaimed—telling, as they did, the barbarous story of the sun-dance. The onl weapon visible about the Indian was a rifle which his left hand held before him; his right was free but not to guide the horse; he per- formed that service with his feet. On, on came the night rider, riding out of the moon as it were straight down upon Dandy Jack. He did not seem.to notice the twenty Snakes who were watching his movements with flashing eyes; but he certainly heard their yells as they appeared to discover in him a foe. All at\once the rifles of the hostiles belched out their leaden contents, but the strange Indian threw his body upon the neck of his careering steed and the bullets whistled harmlessly over him. ‘*That’s curious!” muttered Dandy Jack, see- ing this strange move. ‘‘ Indian pi against Indiany I don’t understand it.” Ah! he was to know what it meant when in after days he know more of Sun-Dance, the Tla- math. “Tf they are enemies all cannot but be mine!” continued the boy, dropping beside the wagon, his eyes no longer on the Snakes but upon the new-comer on the field. } He held his pistols ready, each cocked in his hand. & He felt confident that the single savage had not yet noticed him, and when that worthy sud- denly sto his steed and rose abruptly from behind ig Presets of flesh gph the Snakes shrink instinctly back. en a jet of flame escaped over the horse’s head followed by another and another in such rapid succession, as to completely bewilder the boy. The ly arg oF Indian had opened upon the Snakes, and his rapid firing was emptying sad- dles with terrible precision and fatality. The Snakes were thrown into the greatest confusion, and the few shots that replied to the Tlamath did no execution. He suddenly ceased firing, ‘probably because he had exhausted his cham- rs, and before the sound of the last report had died away, he came down upon the wagon again. _ Jack was released from his bewilderment in an t. “He thinks to finish me now!” he grated, bracing himself, and the next moment bang! bang! went his revolvers full into the face of the solitary red-man. The smoke for a moment shut out objects be- ot boy, but the thunder of hoofs still smo nearer the wagon’s bed to keep from being un- ceremoniously ridden down. But it was in vain that Dandy Jack tried to escape from the f/f thunderbolt. Ny The horse was soon m him, and before he could collect his scattered thoughts, he was jerk- | ed violently from_the One of the revelvers und and borne a $31 from his hand asthe his ears, and he hae ee me Library. AEST TNT RT ful took place; but he mansged to retain his hold on the other, The one held was the empty one as the youth soon discovered, for finding the muzzle pressed against his captor’s naked breast, he attempted to discharge it; but there was no report. The quick ruthless jerk that followed the click of the hammer upon the empty cartridge landed the boy directly before the Indian, and for the first time he obtained a view of that face from which only death was to separate him! The gait of the steed, despite his additional burden, did not abate in the least. The Indian held Dandy Jack firmly before him, and re- plied to his amazed look with eyes full of tri- umph and revenge. On, on went the Tlamath, and the journey seemed to grow endless to the little captive. He thought of the girl left behind to the mercy of the barbarous Snakes, and every hoof-beat was taking him further from her, further, too, from Long Lige. Was that horse capable of galloping forever? His head was still erect, though he carried no bit between his teeth, and showed no signs of fatigue. It was when Jack shut his eyes to keep out his painful thoughts, and to shut off the sight of that implacable red face above him, that the horse at last came to a stand. The boy opened his eyes and raised his head. The moon was now high in the heavens, and her soft light fell upon the vast plain whose dreari- ness was unrelieved in a single instance. No timber; no water to glisten in the moonlight, no- thing to tell Jack that his long journey with the eer? Indian had brought him nearer safety. “Long ride!” said the Tlamath, in good Eng- lish, as he met Jack’s ill-natured look with the faintest of smiles. ‘‘ White boy hold onto pistol all the time. He tried to shoot Sun-Dance; but it no go off.” ‘ As the Indian spoke, his gripe on the boy’s arm relaxed, and Jack was seated before him. ““Sun-Dance?” the boy said, struck by the name. ‘Is that what I am to call you?” ro - ‘“*Sun-Dance is a Tlamath. Where white boy * from?” ae I told you, you wouldn’t know,” Jack said, ““Mebbe not, but Sun-Dance been to see the great father at Washington.” “‘ Well, I came from the East, came out here . with Long Lige! Ever hear of him in your travels?” Sun-Dance started at the mention of the guide’s name, “Know him? yes!” he suddenly exclaimed, - “ Where him now?” f “That’s just what.I want. to know,” was the rejoinder. ‘‘Look here, Sun-Dance, T begin to see that we needn’t be enemies; but it isn’t that. that troubles me now. You left a young girl back there with the wagon. I was going to stand by her till the last; but you came along and carried me off.” ‘The Indian looked astonished, “ White girl?” y Cer inly! The Snakes have found her ere na ““Mebbe not!” Sun-Dance said, takin; age, and his horse not spoken to but touc his foot wheeled suddenly. ‘¢ We go back and see!” a ack took hope cour~ ed by After all he might find a friend in Sun-Dance, and Estil need not rish. PeBaok dashed the Tlamath, but not in that breakneck speed just finished. es On, on they went and the moon was in the zenith when the tireless steed stopped beside the wagon. ack, unhindered by the {ndian, leaped to the un h an e t or Snakes been here!” ahst Sa said, before the boy could touch the oe vehicle. | ‘* No use to look for white Dandy Jack recoiled from the search whieh / he was about to begin, and looked at the young , brave. \ “Tf white boy don’t believe let him look!” ___| “Look I ’’ muttered Jack, ni breath, and he fell to work, quietly watched by — a. phe. ga ve up in despair, aud turned upon Bon Dinka: a face which confirmed his ob- servation. Estil was gone! cea CHAPTER Vo. Saige FUNTING FOR THE TRAIL. __ “Four it at last! This is what a fellar gite fur keepin’ on an’ never givin’ up. donee : eo under his ~ Bina f
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= B —~ eS oy, ] » Dandy Jack. 5 the red-skins. hevn’t been, hyar, fur they’ve left their marks on the wheels, and suthin’s tore the kiver off. But how did the vehicle. git inter this persition? the old Oregon trail! If thet skunk Luke Whit- tles had charge ov it when it upsot, why war he comin’ in that d’rection? That’s somewhat of a uzzle, an’ as [never war good at guessin’ I give itup. Nothin’left hyar, 1 suspect, to throw any light on the subject.” The speaker, Long Lige, had leaped from the back of a mule and overturning. Tt was the evening of the. fifth day after the several occurrences narrated in the foregoing chapters. Long Lige looked somewhat travel-worn, but there was the flash of anger in his eyes which still said that he remained ‘‘the maddest man in Oregon.” The animal which he had ridden to the unlucky spot bore certain well-known harness marks, and was in truth one of the ani- ‘mals lately harnessed to the wagon found at last by the Peover ag guide. : The mule seemed to recognize this unfortunate wagon; the head was rubbed against its sides affectionately, and other demonstrations of un- mistakable delight were exhibited. **Know the old wagon, eh?” said Lige, notic- ing the animal’s actions. ‘‘ Well, I should say yé sughter, havin’ help pull it from the States, war, p’raps, fur the sakes ov the leetle ones, we'd better stayed. But the milk is spilt an ‘we're not goin’ to crook a lip are we, old chap- y? I war lucky to catch you down on the Pun ork, creased you an’ left a scar by which you'll remember Lige Butler furever, fur mules never die,” Butler patted the brute’s neck as he spoke, and then turned his attention to the wagon. He saw everywhere the marks of Indian tomahawks; the bows had been split into strips, the spokes cut in twain, and great gaps made in the sides. Not far away lay the cask which had caused the contretemps; but it was empty, though through the bung escaped the strong odor of western whisky. Nothing remained undisturbed except a tin- box whose corners were bound in brass. This was the object which had struck terror to the hearts of Luke Whittles and the Indians—the can of “‘ nitro-glycerine.” Kind o’ queer thet they spared this,” the ide muttered, picking the cau up in a manner which told that he was not afraid of its explo- sive qualities. ‘‘Some people hevn’t got stom- achs fur delicacies; this proves it. But—by my stars! thar’s some scriblin’ on the tin; some Por hes written on it with the p’int of a 8-1) With eyes full of curiosity and wonder the old guide turned the box into the strong western light, and helditnear his face.. Looking straight at the broad side thus presented to his vision, he with some difficuliy made out the following: “ This is nitro- glycerine to Luke Whittles and the Indians! I’m with—” The knife-writing ending thus abruptly caused Lige to look up surprised. Then, before he spoke he shifted the box from side to side as if the light becoming uncertain now had interfer- ed with his reading. ae “Queer!” he ejaculated. ‘‘I’d almost call it & phenomener. Now, whoever writ that, an it looks like some o’ the boy's work, hed to quit be- fore he got done. Ha war goin’ to tell me who he war with; but I’m Jeft in ’Gypti’n gloom consarnin’ that matter. Niter glisserene, eh? Niter glissereno in thiscan? That’s queer! won- der how the bu’stin’ stuf! gotin thar? Nobody’s been tinkerin’ with the box since we left the Bluffs, an’ the bands aro still sound. Look out, Luke Whittles an’ Oregon Leon; I'll prove worse than niter glisserene afore I’m through with ou!” Long Ligs put the mysterious box down and renewed his search but was unrewarded, save by a pair of capacious auras ys which had been rified of their contents, and divided with the knife. Muttering to himself that they might ‘‘eome “handy,” he proceeded to sew them together by means of some leathern strips which he ect from the edges and soon finished his work. i Into one of the pockets he then thrust the tin canister, and threw the saddle-bags across the back of the animal which he had ridden to the t. Pe Dm a victim of sarcumstances!”’ Lige mut- ‘tered, dolefully, as he pre to_mount. ‘Fooled by a dirty sneak like Luke Whittles, an’ hoodwthked by Oregon Leon, hyar I am, twenty-five miles from the en trail, with ‘he leetle ones took from me, so far as the d alighted alongside of the | Conestoga lying a wreck upon the spot of its | train is consarned, bu’sted,_.. This is the time fur business an’ business it is. Dandy Jack is with— | thet’s what I’d like toknow. Why didn’t he git Tongue p’inted straight to’ards | to finish the writin’? Cuss all oy them! maddest man in Oregon! I am— ler!’ The old guide gave a wild whoop expressive of his feelings, as he sprung into the saddle, and turned to the dilapidated wagon, “Fur ev’ry cut they guv the old wagon I'll pay ’em with intrust!” he said., ‘‘ Ye carried the leetle ones cl’ar from the States, an’ ye stuck te ’em as long as ye could, thet’s what ye did. Now this is yer reward, cut,up by the Injuns’ hatchets. It makes me mad all over, I swan it does.” Gritting his teeth hard behind the last. word, Long Lige drove his heels hard against the rowels of his steed, and left the spot with a bound—left the old wagon to the solitude that brooded over the plain. He hurried in a north-westerly direction, leaving. the Oregon trail to his left, but having the country of the Snakes directly before him. His animal at last cast no shadow on the grass which he was leaving behind, and the es of night swooped upon the daring man. All at once he came to a halt, and leanin forward, thrust his cap over the mule’s mout and nostrils, *“No noise!” he said, to the animal, “‘ we’re goin’ to meet somebody. Down! down in the grass, Major!” As he uttered the command he struck the ani- mal several light blows upon the neck, and the knees were instantly bent. ‘*‘ A mule what hes been over the Oregon trail I’m the Lige But- as often as you_hey, knows what his business is!’ murmured Lige, bestowing a proud look on the obedient brute, as he step lightly to the ground! ‘* Now, lie still, old fellow, till we see who’s comin’.” The practiced ear of the guide had detected the approach of a as yet unseen, be- cause of the prevailing shades. Its numbers were of course unknown to him; but the sounds that now came to his ears told him that they were not inconsiderable. Crouched beside the faithful mule, with his rifle cocked in his hand, the guide kept his eyes fixed to the north from whence at last emerged a long object, moving like a huge serpent over a ae I ’spected. Ni f the hind “‘Tnjuns, as spec’ ow, i e hind- most chap is a laggard, mebbe I'll git a bit o’ news. Lon, Lge could not be deceived by the sight, and while e looked at the Indian baad Stes to his right, he quietly laid his rifle aside and drew his knife. , Then, without any further admonition to the mule to remain quiet, save a significant pat on the neck, he crept through the grass, rather long at that point, as if to intercept the last horse- man. is worthy was inclined to be a laggard, for he sat astride of his little steed in an indolent attitude, the leathern lines lying carelessly on the neck of the beast, which certainly knew enough to follow the band, The Oregon guide counted twenty-three sav- ages as he crept forward, his hand on his knife, and his eyes on the band, but more particularly on the last man. A distance of thirty feet intervened between the laggard and the Indian who immediately pepopdes him. This, for a moment, disconcerted © suide, + Tve got to make him stop,”’ he said, to him- self. ‘* Dick Smith—Red Dick—used to jum ’em on the move, but a Piute gave him the knife once, and he never tried it rward,” The last muttered word had hardly left But- ler’s lips before the low, but rapid ‘‘ Cut, cut, cut,” of the Sage Cock was heard. was followed by a hollow, blowing sound, which al- ways betrays the presence of that noble bird ed the Cock of the Plains, though he seldom comes down from the Sitanteneh. The Indian heard the noise, and Lige might easily have im- agined that he saw his eyes glisten with the eed of the epicure as he quickly his orse “on ae foxx who jie not am ibe oc- cupation to possess himself of a a Cock, I venture does not live in the Far West. The skin of all epicures is not white. The horse stop and turned his head toward the spot from whence the sound P seinen and his rider dropped to the ground without noise, leaving the band to proceed without him. The call was not ted, and the savage, somewhat puzzled by the silence, seemed to be debating what course to pursue, when a dark figure sprung through a clump of grass and bere him-~back. Resistance on the Indian’s part was useless, for a hand was on his wizen, and the tightening . fingers were driving his eyeballs from his head. ” “Thought it war a Sage Cock, eh?’ cried | Long Lige, victory gleaming in hiseyes. ‘You keep up the reputation of yer tribe by bein’ » fond of the bird. Thar’s many an Injun what has run ag’in’ a knife instead of a Sage’ Cock. | But, come along with me. I want a bit o’ new: an’ I. guess ye can enlighten me. Oh, we'll let * yer hoss stand thar; ef he’s trained, he'll wait for ye till he stands to death!” Moving back toward his own animal, Long r Lige dragged his captive along. ** Now!” hesaid, when back to the mule again. ‘‘ Now fur the catechism. Tell me wharthe boy | an’ gal ar’, fur ye ar’ a Snake an’ ye know.” The Indian, whose windpipe had been partial- , ly released, stared into the guide’s face. It was a blank, meaningless stare. ya “Oh, ye know all about it!” Lige continued. “Now ye kin open yer mouth an’ talk or pass : in Bh checks an’ git off life’s train right hyar.” | he Indian’s response was somewhat start- ey ling. With a quickness that staggered the ide, he suddenly jerked back, actually wrench- ing himself loose, and, before Lige could pre- vent, he started toward his horse, a wild yell falling from his lips. / ‘That’: yer last holler!” grated the old guide, and he bounded after the Snake. The race was of short duration; the Indian, miscalculating his powers, benumbed as they were by the late hand on his throat, could not outstrip the mad man. He saw this and turned, whipping out his tomahawk as he executed the movement. But the gleaming iron could not disconcert the guide; he darted upon the red-skin, and as his left hand ac ifted him from the ground, his knife shot into a vital part. There was a quiver, a death-gurgle, but no eae yell, and the Indian slipped from Butler’s nds, “No information, but a new predicament?!” grated Lige, as he turned toward his own ani- mal again. ‘‘One Indian has eaten his last Sage an’ mebbe I’ve teched mine; but thet’s to be seen!” . For a moment he looked to the South and list- ened. He heard the sound of hoofs. — as I s’pected! they’re comin’ back!” he said. Then he struck the mule with the flat of his hand, and as the animal rose, he vaulted into the saddle! CHAPTER VI. ‘‘ WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT, ETC.” On the right bank of the Fayette river not oe miles from its junction with the 8 one of the main villages of the Snake In- dians. It was composed of nine hundred lodges, all told, and could send forth, as it did at times, large parties of red marauders which when the eye of the Government was not upon them, would swoop down upon the emigrant trains and massacre young and old alike. A large percentage of the Snake nation was at the period of which we write in a state of hostility toward the United States. They were giving the authorities at Washington no - inconsiderable amount of vaxation, for their acts threatened to mar the peace which existed be- tween the Government and other tribes‘ con- tiguous to the Snakes. To this state of affairs a white man named Leon Marteveld ne be egy a descent, was believed to have cxmteiban eg some means which would not place certain liv- ing ex-officials in an enviable public light if madr known, he had been appointed Indian Agent, with head-quarters-at Fort Boisse. Martevelde had all the elements of rascality imbedded in his nature, and the shrewd observers soon no- ticed that one of the most deplorable of appoint- ments had been made, The apres were yoga without ee or mercy by this man, whom, strange to sa e almost worshiped, and in secret Srictave pene A him a chief after the usual ceremonies. This affair reached the Governmental ears, and Leon Martevelde was officially decapitated. Hundreds of lives would have been saved if this consummate villain had never received the ap- intment which he disgraced; he at once, after overthrow, proceeded to charge all of his own chicanery upon the Government, firing the savage heart until the Oregon trail became one great deathway, and his own name bandit- ized by the sobriquet of Oregon Leon. The Government had offered a qond reward for his capture, and the commandants of tho
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6 several forts in that coun were constantly on the look-out for him. But he wasa ae fellow of many tricks and disguises, and in the Snake nation on the Fayette there was not to be found one man who would betray him to the troops. If Long Lige had known that the person who saluted him ‘as we have seen on the Oregon trail was that worthy, we are certain that some chapters in this romance had never been writ- ten It was into the Snake village already men- tioned that a white man proclaimed that he had nothing to fear from the inhabitants. His coming did not create any excitement; no per- s0n started at his entrance, save a man who was also white. This latter personage was clad in the rough but serviceable garments of a western teamster; he was sour of countenance, as if he had been “‘ crossed” in the midst of some triumph. *‘Oregon at last!” he i 2 ogeonney. starting for- ward as he recogni ihe new-comer, ‘I’m deuced glad somebody’s comin’, what has a white face. I could never git along with these rs, an’ since they’ve got the best of me in 6 last affair, I hate them like a snake hates the fire. Cuss them! He’s lookin’ sour, too, Oregon is. The Injuns hev made me des’prit. I’ve tried to do my duty, an’ if he growls, Pll cheat somebody out o’ his prize.” The last words muttered with tigerish fierce- ness under his breath welled from *he man’s ill- natured heart, as he advanced to greet the west- ern Sandit who had slackened his gait. ** Well, by Jove!” exclaimed Martevelde draw- ing rein suddenly and Sage ge Luke Whittles, now at his horse’s side. “I didn’t e t to find you here after seein’ the wagon ove ed empty as a fool’s head, and with half a dozen dead Indians lyin’ nigh.” ‘** You see’d all thet?’ Whittles said half ques- tioningly. ‘‘ Well, p’raps, ef they hedn’t de- sarted me they’d ’a’ fared better.” ‘The blue-coats, eh?’ grated Leon, shu hislips firmly behind the last word, for he ha the soldiers as only men of his stripe can hate their hunters. “ Soldiers? no! Theboy— Dandy Jack—wiped out some of them; but they run ag’in’ a sna called Sun-Dance. P’raps you've heard of him / There’ was a twinkle of grim humor in Whit- tles’s eyes, as he spoke, and he saw Oregon Leon’s cheeks grow white, and the blood retreating leave his lips. “Yes; but I don’t fear him any more, Luke,” m said. ‘‘How did the wagon and the Indians get away from you, for I infer from teas talk that you joined them, and claim that hey deserted you?” ‘*T claim the truth; understand that!” flashed the traitor, darting a fierce look at the bandit; and cooling down somewhat, he told the sto: of his theft of the team and its inmates, his gal- lop across the plains, his encounter with the Indians, the mysterious box, and Dandy Jack’s coup d’etat. ‘When they started after the wagon they left me standin’ in the grass, not one red skunk ond - a me up, rnc war twenty hosses 6 party what w carry double, an’ carry it well, too. They didn’t want me along; they thought thar war gold pies me in the bing orgy and eed paged wanta white finger to tech it’ They go yesterday, an’ I—I got here this mornin’—mad as a March hare; an’ hev been quarrelin’ with the devils ever y no value on your since. ‘ ; ” ‘ Just as if Ad ei “4 aay they get riled against you, even J cannot do you said re ood, WAU hat nie you'd rode: tua? pou cakes on! ame tcpormtbar a: Small acai There was a cutting sarcasm in the teamster’s emphasis, and before Oregon Leon could reply, he continued: ‘* Not-only hev I stole for you, but I’ve had a box of niter glisserene jol g behind me fur twenty-four hours, to say nothin’ of carryin’ it cl’ar from the Bluffs. ? now you say you ‘can’t ct’ me if the Injuns get r’iled ag’in’ me. +? Yer don’t want to, m Leon, 2 Uy Sha soul of my mother! I’m not goin’ to it!’ The eyes of Luke Whittles flashed like oary ks as he finished, and his rough hand f like a hammer by way of emphasis upon*the bandit’s leg. “The girlis yonder!” he continued, pointing toa lodge whose exterior gave it a certain savage dignity. ‘‘The boy—well, Sun-Dance carried off, which is not the last of him, I ines meabes - the old chap?” “T saw an’ talked with him. If he catches you there’ll be a general settlement of accounts.” The look and voice of Oregon m told that he had a temper not second in bitterness to the teamster’s, general settlement, eh?’ sneered Luke. oe bel a will thar be when he gits his fingers on you The teamster, whose visage told that anger was getting the best of him, turned abruptly from the bandit. The parting look full of hate told that the two men had a gulf of madness, of ion, between them. artevelde did not reply to Luke’s last thrust, but rode away and presently dismounted near the entrance of the lodge to which his attention had been called. ‘Go in an’ see wrod go what you hired me to steal for you!” grated Whittles who was covert- ly watching the white chief. ‘‘I’ve been a fool, but I kin be a man, an’ one of the worst devils in these parts. Before to-morrer mornin’, Or- egon Leon, you'll hire some sneakin’ Injun to ve me a knife in the back, fur I see it in yer evil eye. To-morrer mornin’, eh? You'd bet- ter catch me nappin’, if you kin, long afore thet an’ drop me without ceremony, fur this very night I’m goin’ to show you how thunder- in’ mean Luke ittles kin be!” CHAPTER VII. THE BEGINNING OF THE ‘“‘ MEANNESS,” THE tent which Oregon Leon entered was not actually guarded; but the sharp eyes of several Indians not far away were fastened upon it. Luke Whittles waited till he saw the curtains which served as a door fall behind the bandit, and then walked moodily away. ‘* Yes, play with the bird while you kin, Leon, fer when the mornin’ comes the cage might be empty.” he object that greeted the ex-agent’s eyes was one of singular beauty, and it was with minietre that he repressed an exclamation of mingled admiration and delight. He was confronted by a young girl, barely sixteen, whose confusion told that she had risen from a couch of skins at his entrance. She was slightly above the medium hight, fresh and lovely, Her eyes, large and lustrous, burned with a bright light beneath the long black lash- es, and the hand that brushed several truant strands of dark hair back from her intellectual brow, was white and perfect. While her garments were neat, they exhibited traces of travel. She blushed slightly when Martevelde noticed them. “What! do I find you a captive?’ he said, feigning astonishment, which made the girl re- gard him with a curious stare. Ne bees situated!” she answered, disap- pointing him as was evident by not coming for- ward and throwing her fortunes at his feet. ‘In the first place we, Dandy Jack and I, were stolen from the care of our guide by a traitor called Whittles, and driven straight to the In- dians. It was the work of a dastard, a man lost to honor and ag ; This traitor, ittles, deserves condi punishment!” ‘ > “The man was comparativel tively blameless, com- pared with the fiend who is at the bottom of the outrage,” said Estil, quickly, and with flashing eyes. " then you think the teamster, for I sup- Ties ittles served you in that capacity, was to play the traitor?” “Undoubtedly he was hired, and that by a oe who is known in these parts as Oregon n. The bandit, despite his self-powsession, quailed before the accusing girl This man— “Do not until you answer this ques- tion,” she cried, suddenly putting out her hand. “Are you not that man—that bandit who has made the old trail a highway of death?” “Girl, if Iam he, I am not lost to manhood. They have lied basely on Oregon Leon, as they choose to cali him; he is the most slandered man in the West; but since they have deliberately made him a devil, he is going to sustain the cha- racter.” : _He came nearer as the last sentence fell from his lips, and Estil, with a sudden light of recog- nition in her eyes, sprung aside. ‘*Great heavens! I know you now!” she cried. ‘You are more to me than n I count you the test villain on earth. It was you who came to the States six months ago with a letter which you said was given into your Oregon hands by my mother. That letter told me te leave uccle Harold and fly to her arms, and you,, George Dare then, urged me to go; you told me that she in the new home on the coast was anxious to see me! I believed you, and left with the train that set out for the gold country. You en Luke Whittles to drive our train; in the States your men plotted that treason which that vi so successfully carried out. Is this not true? Do not dare to deny your in- famy, when in Oregon Leon, the villainous In- dian agent and prairie bandit, I see George ae who drew me into this country with a e.” The ar pene whose face wore a sinister smile while il spoke began to exhibit the heartless triumph of the practiced knaye. ‘Who said I would deny it?’ he suddenly cried. ‘‘What is the use since I stand before you as George Dare?” * Villain |” ““T’ve gotten use to that name!” he said with a coarse laugh. ‘‘The cognomens given me by my white brethren are very choice, I assure: pe Not Meat long ago it was the Honorable nm Martevelde; now it is bandit, fiend, devil! Choice names, are they no,t my captive bird?’ The flashing of the brigand’s eyes was enough to blanch the cheeks of any and drive her back. But Estil did not quail; above her white gua her eyes sparkled brilliantly like coals of ‘“* And that letter was a forgery? My mother never wrote it?” ‘* Never!” he said in a tone that was intended to tantalize her. ‘Let me tell you something. I saw that mother less than a year ago, and, captivated by her beauty, for beautiful she is, laid siege to her heart. She did not know me. If I thought you would ever see her again, I would tell you to ask her if she has forgottem George Dare. At first I thought my suit was: received with favor. She told me about you her youngest child in the States; but she said a she oe not ge eg “ae you were oO © years yet, I thi yhen I agked for on hand I was Setnied in such a manner as to make me mad. She would not listen to my leadings, and at last with her finger pointed ward the door told me to leave her sight for- ever. I left, but before 1 turned on my heel te quit her presence, I told her that some day I would be terribly revenged. She became in- censed, and had me arrested for making threats. But I had friends there who aided me in my es- cape. It became known that I was Oregon Leon, and they followed me to the bound of the Snake country. But I eluded all, nor did I at until I had induced you, her daughter, to seek herarms. Luke Whittles was my traitor. I proclaim it boldly now, Estil, for you are in the center of an Indian village, where the word of George Dare is law. By my soul! you're going to exceed your mother in beauty. You will i yt on as bat but your fi maton queenlier, like that of the reignin ashin belle, Miss Comstock.” . BB td . eee pas the nang oy, ee the nis: girl did not speak. ut her eyes never left the white Snake. “You have confessed to villainy which should bring the blush of shame to your cheeks!” she cri cag tort “T now know the motive that prompted letter to which my mother’s name was forged. But let me tell you here and now, bandit and butcherer, that your villainy whatever it be shall not succeed.” “Hol ho! my ti going to be stretched between weak and ae y one of yours ‘* This one at least !” answered lifting her t arm. ‘I can push it aside as if it were a reed!” ‘Not if there be a knife at the end of it!” “A knife? I fancy that you will get to handle such an article while you are here! ne Ser, she “Do you think I cannot?” cried the antly, and before the bandit could stop her, she stooped and drew a long-bladed hunting-knife from beneath the pillow of the couch. Py ani haga greeted the weapon with an oath re) rise, il’s eyes danced behind the glittering steel which she held up before his eyes. “Who gave you that?’ “T do not betray!” was the answer, which seemed only to madden him. BM. is an Indian knife and it has been given ou, “ That is true.” ‘‘The man who gave it is without such a weapon now. Ha! I see buck-horn handle with red notches in it. *T'will not be very hard =
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ie ee ee ae ' heavy stock, kn ' side of the lodge, an Dandy Jack. 7 ant to find the scamp. Ill see that he never does you another favor, and the sooner the better.” He moved to the door as he spoke. _. “You may find him, but with all your author- ity you dare not punish,” flashed the girl. “Dare not? ere is the Indian whom I dare not strike? Why, girl, I would not stop cae of War-Bow himself, and I know it is not “Tt is not his!” Estil said. if you can <4 ‘IT will! But what will you dobefore I carry out my plans against mother—not against you, girl, for it is she 1 hate?’ - , what are those plans?” “ Now, think for a moment what would strike her deepest. Your mother loves you; there is ‘one thing which would kill her quicker than the ; mews of your death.” With a wild cry Estil started toward the ‘* Find its owner man. ‘*That event shall never happen!” she cried, * holding the flashing knife between them, “It would kill my mother. Do not attempt to rer fi out such a plan as that.” “So you have guessed it. Why, it would 4 make you queen of the Snakes. Queen Estil! think how that would sound! But, what will % you do to oppose it? Now, throw a glamour of ) romance upon your situation, and say that sooner than become my wife you’d bury that red-notched knife in your heart,” “No sir!” cried the girl. ‘‘ Suicide is coward- ly! There is another heart that may feel the ’ point of this knife, e Do not provoke me.” 7 ft is my ap ¢ is yours He looked at the defiant girl for a moment, and then with some words which she could no understand, he sprung from the lodge and the , falling curtains hid bim from her sigh It was dark when Leon Martevelde found himself once again upon the street, if street the way that ran between the long row of Indian wigwams could be called. Night had followed the twilight and a few flitting figures could be seen. The trail bandit did not look behind him as he hurried away, consequently he did not see the two statue-like figures which stood on either side of the wigwam. They were stalwart In- dian guards, and had taken their positions un- known to him. ‘To find the man who gave her the knife, tnat’s my first duty,” muttered Oregon Leon. ‘“War-Bow is not likely to return for several days, and I am the king now. By heaven! somebody shall feel my authority, too.” Several hours later the ex-agent entered his own. lodge and lighted a candle, a small portion of the plunder from some hapless train. is face wore a Se expression; it was evident that his hunt for the owner of the buck- horn handle knife had proved fruitless. “Tf I did not find him I did one thing,” he said aloud. ‘There'll be a dent white man in this village before daylight. Luke Whittles, I’ve a terrible way of paying my debts.” “Oh, [ll cancel them now!” The harsh and sudden voice made Oregon Leon start back and seize the revolver which he bes taken from his belt a few short moments fore. Luke Whittles held a heavy teamster’s whip in his hand. ‘Yes, Pll cancel ’em afore I go!” he cri fiendishly raising the murderous whip, inten upon beating his enemy down with the butt. aN eo pertect me, eh? Well, ’'m not goin’ to ask ye! It was in vain that Oregon Leon tried to ward off the whip, and use his pistol. Down came the ing the pistol to the further then two terrible blows dealt in pacuing succession, sent the bandit recling backward, bloody, and, perhaps, dead. rep es to be mean to ye afore mornin’!” grated Whitiles, looking for a moment at his work. ‘ Now [’ll finish my work.” He took the revolver which had fallen from Martevilde’s hand and thrust it into his belt be- side one already there, and flung the whip across the body of his victim. Then he extinguished the light and went out. ** A new way to settle troublesome accounts!” he said to himself, with a light but brutish chuckle. He moved away in the direction of Estil’s peer, with a cocked revolver in his right The sky was studded with stars, and the night was clear. Luke stopped suddenly and put his ear to the ground. “‘Nothin’ comin’!” he ew pees beg he rose. ‘‘Them dogs keep an infarnal racket up down by the hosses.” To the right, and seemingly just beyond the confines of the village, a lot of Indian dogs were making the night hideous. As Luke Whittles heard them he gritted his teeth in anger. “A Piute among the animiles, mebbe,” he muttered. A Piute? No! If Luke had known the truth the dogs might have interested him more than they did. CHAPTER VIII. THE FATAL THROW. ‘© WHITE boy watch here!” The speaker was Sun-Dance the Tlamath, and as he uttered the last word he thrust the leathern bridle of his horse into Dandy Jack’s hand. ‘*T'd like to go along!” said the boy, taking the bridle reluctantly, and giving the red-skin a look full of earnest desire, but Sun-Dance shook his head. ‘One better than two, sometimes!” he said. ‘Jack watch the horses, an’ bymby Sun- Dance come back with Stolen Flower.” ‘Be very careful,” admonished the boy. ‘‘We made a good deal of racket among the horses, and Leon is in the village. bea careful, In- dian; we’ve got our heads in the lion’s mouth, and if the jaws close, it is good-by !” ‘‘Sun-Dance been here before,” and the Tla- math gliding away, left the boy on the river- bank, and not far from the edge of the Snake village. He held in his hand the reins belonging to three horses, two of which had been adroitly stolen from the Indian corral. It was the presence of the pair which had ir- ritated the dogs, but the theft would not be be- trayed, The only Indian lured to the place by the noise had died without a shriek with the hatchet of the Tlamath in his brain. Dandy Jack’s proposition to rescue Estil from the midst of the Snake village, a deed of daring scarcely without a parallel, found an eager lis- tener in Sun-Dance, whose sympathies had been enlisted in the cause. The young chief was an inveterate enemy of the Snakes, hating them with all the hatred of the savage. He had been a thorn in the nation’s side, had time and again stampeded their horses from the very suburbs of their habitation, and butchered their sleeping warriors in the night. As the red bandit of the plains, Sun-Dance was a demon, feared almost as much as he was hated by his foes. It had been with difficulty that he restrained his hands from stampeding the restless horses when he selected two from the herd. The thought of Estil to be rescued that night, alone had tk pg the panic. ‘‘Here I am the companion of an Indian,” murmured Dandy Jack, finding himself alone beneath the ayrialia of stars that glittered bril- liantly above. ‘‘ We’re in the test peril and getving our hands in deeper and deeper all the time. Thus far I’ve found Sun-Dance a brave, good-natured fellow; but, merey, how his eyes flash whenever I talk’ about Oregon Leon and the Snakes. If they knew he was here now, right in their village, there’d be one of the big- gest times im: le.” The — of the Indian pearceres while Dandy Jack thus communed with himself, and he grew silent and listened. e occasional bark of an Indian dog was the only sound that broke the stillness; the horses were bare again, for they could not snuff the odor of the scarlet thief. Sun-Dance moved cautiously into the village, crawling at times likea sn wolf, and now rising ; He was in the midst of his inveterate foes, the sworn enemies of his tribe. The lodges did not stand near each other;’ there was a space of twenty feet between them, and across this the Tlamath glided with practiced caution. The keen be of the dog ht discover him, or the attention of a warrior seal his doom. The absence of the large war-parties was a fortuitous circumstance; but keen eyes still re- mained in the village; the survivors of the battle by the Conestoga were at home. The anxious glances which Sun-Dance cast over his left shoulder told that he was watching the horizon bers. light, as the moon, still un- seen, pursued her course bene the sky. What was to be accomplished must not be eon in the moonlight; it would betray It was while Sun-Dance vo through the ae athe his foes that the incidents related in the foregoing chapter took place. Intent upon taking revenge, Luke Whittles had enterea Oregon Leon’s tent, and struck him down with the heavy handle of his whip. Then eager te paces! d out the entire plan of his meanness he sought the tent or lodge occupied by Estil. oward this Sun-Dance also was gliding, each unaware of the other’s presence. Whittles was approaching the lodge from the west, or from behind, while the Tlamath, crawl- ing from the east, was nearing the door. e shadows of the many wigwams, long ones and dark, for they were thrown by thestars, pre- vented the would-be rescuers from seeing each other, and the single guard, if the dark figure crouched dog-like at the front of the lodge was an Indian, seemed also ignorant of their pre- ~ sence. It would have been apparent to any one who could have watched this double craw! from over- head, that Whittles’s movements would bring: him to the guard first. He was crawling around the lodge, knife im hand, and hugging the shadows like an J pepe with outstretched neck to keep the guard in, sight. a The Injun ‘pears to be asleep,” he murmur- ed, with satisfaction glittering in his evil i po ‘By George! I’m in luck to-night. I’ve finished, Leon, for if I didn’t crush his skull with the whip, I don’t know how to strike, an’ here I find a sleepin’ Injun guardin’ the lodge. Luck! luck, Luke hittles; a thunderin’ sight more’n you desarve!” : Nearer and nearer to the guard he crawled, and at last, when but five feet intervened, he. stopped. For a moment he seemed to be studying the. position of the careless sentry, and then with a sudden spring he darted upon him. It was at this moment that Sun-Dance be- came aware of the traitor’s presence. Until that time he had flattered himself that the giant was to become his victim. Duke Whittles had not miscaleulated the dis- tance, for he alighted squarely =o the guard. There was a sharp, angry growl as the traitor struck fiercely as he came down, and the guar¢ springing up, threw him off. ‘Thunder and guns!” gasped Whittles, as he was hurled back with a force that seemed ta break every bone in his body. ‘‘ Not an Injun, but a b’ar! Truer words had never fallen from his li The guard of the lodge was an enormous ; which, sorely wounded by the long knife, was springing forward. Laks Tost no time in scrambling to his feet, and he quickly drew a revolver. “Shoot ’em? No!” he cried, hesitating. “I don’t want the hull Snake nation down w me. _ It’s a b’ar an’-no mistake, an’ if I want the gal I’ve got to meet *im with knife.” _For a moment man and bear eyed each other like gladiators in the ring. Luke saw thata giant of the cinnamon species faced him; and Fe- collected that he had caughtseveral glimpses of the animal in the village during the day. “Yd ruther face six Snakes!” he ted. “But the b’ar is between me an’ my object, so ne Sted de as h for th e aside as he or the purpose of disconcerting the Seely and Bruin turniag poy 4 round prepared to meet the threater wiNiacs to thes tain, falnae ett tle ace to face then, yel” cried Whi and like a thunderbolt he cast his body straigix at Ou eye ; . uick as his attack was, the bear prepared to receive him, and was rising on hind fest when Luke’s left arm flung the fore paws aside and delivered a gr neve blow at the throat. bear, and before he could recover the traitor dealt two more blows with all his mi At the last one the knife went to the heart, for the hea’ back amd. fell at the very door of the lodge. i “Good Juck yet!” exclaimed Luke as he sprung over the bear. ‘Now I'll finish the work, ‘ He was at the wigwam and looked up to ge a white face between the curtain and a pair of eyes full of wonderment were fixed upon hips, “Ha! my beauty!” he cried, and the next moment he had torn the curtains aside seized upon the captive. ‘Never mind, I’m goin’ to seg 2 Ser haa sg red nest. Yes, yes, ’m Luke Whittles. Dv¥e got a blood on my face an’ I don’t look like myself, “Luke Whittles, the traitor!” Estil, shutting her eyes to keep out the vision of his abhorred countenance. Pils bg the traitor!” he seid with a sneer. ** An’ I wasn’t paid fur doin’ it, either.” carcass rolled ¢
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at 25 lt Sy es ; — ene apt aaa ara | 5 ~~ vay Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. The girl could not struggle, for the teamster’s at hands held her frail body eaptive and his | | pleasant and sate, short rough beard seemed to cut her delicate oheel.. ara ‘Nosy fur the hoss!” he said in.a low tone, ar.) bo left the empty lodgo and dead bear. . But he was followed; tiat-silent figure which hed, 2); ched-the lodge from the river crept | estar t ‘thief. The eye of the Tlamath { tat bes iT ko Whittles: but followed him to | tx orn side of the village where a horse | icvod by means of a lariat toa small | esctonw oor, } Tho presence of the tree told that the river | Aeov7ol not faraway. There wes something in the Tlamath’s hands mow which was. not n imite, . Well might it re- | semble 2 coil of 1 for it was a lariat...’ Ho sav7 Lalzo1 ie -herse which he loosen- | ed with his lef5 hand while he held the girl with raracanian bola, and drepped over the traitor’s Teas. Luke Whittles uttered a ery of horror as the infernal cord touched him. His hand was on the animal’s neck ready for mounting, but not- withstanding his surprise he did not release the until he threw himself upon the horse. Then it contracted its embrace, pinioning his arms to mane. f | Sun-Dance, Dandy Jack turned back to The lasso was yet slack, nor did it tighten | Deserted and on foot at the edge of a hostile village, the boy’s situation was anything but The horses lately stolen from the Indian cor- ral as weil as the Tlamath’s faithful steed had taken to their heels at the sight of the apparition which had just thundered by, and Dandy Jack’s only weapons consisted of Sun-Dance’s repeat- ing rifle left with him, and his own revolver. There was something wild and unnatural in the yell which had startled him; it was full of agony and bloodthirstiness. “It’s no use to stay here and get caught. The village is full of life now. My only hope is to find a hiding-place along the river—till the search is over.” . The noises ia the village would have suggested , self preservation to any person in Jack’s situa- tion, and with a weapon in each hand he turned toward the river. But he did not pass beyond the moonlight be- fore he came to a sudden halt. A horse was galloping from the north and the patter of the hoofs had a familiar sound. “ Little River is coming back!” cried the boy taking hope at the sounds. ‘ Truly this seems providential. I wonder if he didn’t get asham- ed of himself for deserting me?” Knowing well that the horse coming rapidly toward him was ‘the animal which belonged to ring him to a halt. His brief com nionship with the Tlamath had familiarize him to no little extent with his side, and binding the half-conscious girl to | the animal’s habits, as well as with the Indian’s But his hands were free, and they griped the rein with a gripe which no human strength could shatter. i He did not stop toascertain the identity of the thrower; the lasso was fastened about him, that ‘wes enough, and as he had not heard the sound of hoofs he guessed that the foe had stolen upon hin on foot. “Gosh hang it! you can’t jerk me any pues nor I kin you ee said. ‘app the jo to yer > drag ye along, ner qui till I’ve killed ver He spoke fiercely to the horse and struck the rowels ag errno with the huge Spanish spurs _ which in those days were at every muleteer’s heels, and with a snort of pain the animal started forward. All this in the space of half a minute! Luke Whittles did not look back to see the dark figure plant itself like a statue, for the force at the other end of the lasso threatened to un- him. But only for a moment. The thrower could not hold his prey. ; He tried it y for a moment and then was jerked forward by the animal’s start. , Sun-Dance fell on his f nor did he rise after the contretemps, but if he was conscious he found himself Leg dragged over the ground not very far behind the horse’s heels! . The lazo was fastened to his wrist, and he oe g frantic efforts to. cut it with his fe. Bus in vain; he was doomed to a terrible On, on, went Luke Whittles, the azo cuttin, his arms as it were and the Indian bound- like arubber ball behind him. } -at once Dandy Jack heard the coming and started up. , ay. . The sound grew more and more distinct, and suddenly, like some hideous specter, the traitor went thund os ; . Jack drop bridles and shrunk back ' with a cry of horror, and the horses, frightened is an left ne alone. i ee Me saw the apparition disappear down the réver-trail, and caught sight of a shapeless object which it seemed to be dr: behind it. In a moment all had ‘left his sight, and he went forward tosee if his eyes had deceived him. _ The raging Fe was now beginning to illume > spot, -_ andy Jack saw a dark object on j ‘ound, : mickiaes it up he held it in the light, _ twas a broken feather—one of “Great Cesar! Sun-Dance had the | ~ faatencd to his wrist! Iam deserted now!” At this moment a wild cry rose apparent ‘fewm the center of the Snoke village. . _. Is was answered by a hundred yells. _ Dandy Jack felt his blood getting cold! ja bce CHAPTER IX. 13 _ DANDY JACK MEETS UGLY BEAR. ie si MT aud now! | og There wasa terrible meaning attached to these wards as they fe from Dandy Jack’s lips. | to a sudden halt, and Jack woul ) ) 0 eee e Tlamath’s. | lasso manner of treating him, A peculiar whistle would bring Little River have nothing to do but to vault upon his back and give him the rein before his enemies discovered him. ‘‘ The other horses are with Little River! Tis strange they did not go back to the corral.” But nothwithstanding the presence of another horse close behind Little River, Jack proceeded to carry out his plans. : The river trail, a well-beaten track and evi- dently much traveled by the Snakes, was alter- nately shadow and light. When the on-coming horses were invisible the sound of their hoofs proclaimed their whereabouts. Little River was some distance in advance of his follower when a singular whistle brought him to a sudden halt, which would have sent a carelessly seated rider on his h ““Thank heaven for you, Little River!” ex- claimed the boy, springing to the horse’s side. He laid his hand on the mane and was about to vault upon the blanketed back, when some- thing dark and rough his face and settled down over the horse’s head! Dandy Jack started back with a cry of horror, and Little River bounded away as the lazo tightened around his superb neck, but he was jerked suddenly from the ground and. uncere- moniously thrown upon his side, “ Flintlocks and fire!” ejaculated the little ad- venturer, as he turned to see the strange horse firmly planted on the trail with his great breast full and his noble head erect holding taut the lazo wrapped around the saddle-horn, There was victory in the beast’s eye. But the sign of a foe was not visible. ‘*A horse can’t throw a lasso!” muttered the boy, recovering from the mystification of the scene. ‘‘There’s an Indian somewhere, and I'm going to find him.” He cocked his rifle as be spoke, and started boldly toward the horse, ‘‘Surrender!” he shouted to the unseen foe. “Surrender, I say, or Pll fill ‘you full of moon- light in the blink of an eye!” ere was no reply. The majestic horse turned his head as if he understood the boy. ‘Behind the horse, Indian-like. But Tl make you show ourself,” The rifle to Jack’s shoulders, and taking a hasty but deliberate aim, he touched the trig- ger. At the clear report, that echoed far and wide, the horse reeled back on his haunches and Lut fell heavily to the ground, shot through the rain. But no foe was yet seen! The boy was wh mystified. “ Bless me! if I don’t find out who threw that in so doing,” he said, in a lasso, if I get caught i a doggedness of spirit out tone which exhibited | of place then and there, when flight might yet . 7 ‘ the Tlamath’s horse as to_ A few bounds brought him ‘to his victim’s side, He lay in the tallest grass visible to the boy, a stream of blood flowing from his mouth, but his great heart still. Fe “Tt is very queer!” said Jack, seeing nothing. “Hark! there are a dozen or more coming. Lil loosen Little River and outrun them with the critter!” There was no time left to inquire into the mystery of the throw which had so startlingly arrested his flight, and Jack thrust his hand over the steed’s side to unfasten the lazo, for knife, at that moment, he did not possess. His fingers felt the saddle-horn, and then be- gan to uncoil the hairy rope, but they suddenly stopped. For a hand seized his wrist stealthily, but with the suddenness of a serpent’s spring, and the boy, as he recoiled with a cry of horror, saw the owner of that hand raise himself sud- denly over the carcass. The head and shoulders of a Snake Indian, and the glittering eyes of a cunning warrior! Dandy Jack’s only free hand leaped to the re- volver in his belt, but it was griped half-way and he felt himself in the power of his foe. ‘White boy too many shootin’-irons; Ugly Bear none, so he hide when he throw lasso, and fell over with horse,” said the Indian, with a grin. Dandy Jack did not rey: He looked at his — and acknowledged that he was fairly caught, “Phat Sun-Dance’s hoss!” said Ugly Bear, whose face certainly sustained the merits of the appellation. ‘‘Injun know it from Oregon to Kooskoosky. Where is the Tlamath?’ “Don’t ask me?” said Jack. ‘“With him white boy come _ hither. Dance save him at the wagon,” “You were there, then?’ The Snake nodded. “We're old acquaintances,” Jack said, with a smile. ‘‘It’s impossible to shake hands with you, seeing the fix I’m in.” Bear, sententiously. ‘Bad fix!” said Ugly “But where Sun-Dance?” There was a menace in the Snake’s tone, ‘* A fellow can’t tell a thing he doesn’t know, can he?” ; Crow white boy know. He trying to fool Ug- ear. “That’s downright lying!” flashed Jack, his eyes kling with indignation. ‘‘{ don’t know; but that settles it, and if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you!” _ For a moment the Indian looked at his captive in a manner in which Jack did not relish. He felt the gripe on his arms growing tighter and tighter, and all at once he was jerked over the carcass to the side occupied by the Snake, and brought up standing almost against his captor’s ace. “ Ugly Bear could jerk white boy’s bones out!” said Spa Indian. f r ““If that was a specimen of your jerking ’m not going to doubt you,” answered Dandy ack, “But what are you going to do with me?” ‘‘ Listen!” said Ugly Bear. ‘‘ White boy hear the horses?” , Yeu, rou ah got into the trail again; they Sun- were off awhile ago,” ‘*On again! What name?” The Snake was looking curiously into Jack’s « Jack!” said the captive. ‘Jack! Jack!” repeated Ugly Bear. “ Big Injun called Captain Jack up north. Here come the Snakes. Been huntin’ fur the crawlin’ thief, who kill bear an’ steal girl.” There was something in the last sentence which needed explanation to Dandy Jack and he was about to question Ugly Bear when that worthy leaped upon the dead horse and with his face turned toward the as yet unseen riders gave a peculiar whoop. It was answered, and the answer twenty times repeated made the welkin ring. Soon a dozen dark fi burst into the moon- i and Jack saw them bearing down upon The Snake was in t glee. He danced up- on the side of his slain horse, and all at ones thrust his captive above his head and cried out with the devilishness of a fiend. ““ Whoopee! Ugly Bear catch ‘im! Catoh bala boy of the wagon. Jack! Jack! On, on came the Indians, and Dand them draw rein around him and rust tee of delight. ‘Ugly Bear catch ’im!” repeated the gratified Jack saw eard their captor as he shook the boy in his companions’ “eh
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|) ee ae NR AEE -- Dandy. Jack. 9 uely Bear give ’im up!” responded a deep, guttural voice; but the Snak, shrunk from the red arm which was outstretched with authority. ~~ “No! no! him shoot Ugly Bear’s hoss.” “Tt is War-Bow who speaks!” The snake hesitated a moment longer, and then as he shut his lips hard he flung the boy at the stalwart speaker. Jack was a second in the air, and then a great red arm strong as @ bar of steel was thrown around him. He was inthe embrace of War-Bow, the vin- dictive chief of the hostile Snakes! CHAPTER X, THREE AGAINST ONE. THE young. captive was soon to learn the im- ih] gly Bear’s words, “‘ Kill bear and steal His entrance into the Snake village proper was not long delayed after he found himself in the arms of War-Bow. When the Indians turned their attention to the horse which their comrade had lassoed, they found him fretful -and impatient to be free. A young buck sprung from his horse and un- loosened the lariat, but Ugly Bear who thought that he was going to appropriate the Tlamath’s 4 handsome steed to his own use, darted upon him : with an ejaculation of rage and flung him back. The push sent the buck against the dead horse, and as he fell the lazo was pulled from his hand. Little Rivor had started forward again, this time to find himself free, and before a scarlet hand could reseize the cord, the noble horse was almost out of sight. “Let ’im go! No catch ’im!” said War-Bow waving back the would-be pursuer with his hand, and then the party returned to the vil- lage. “here as I have intimated Dandy Jack had the words ‘ Kill bear and steal girl ® explained tohim, He learned that Luke Whittles and not Sun-Dance had carried Estil off, and the two persons on the horse which had darted past his station like a specter now stood revealed. But what disastrous contretemps had caused _Sun-Dance to be dragged at the horse’s heels? This was the mystery which now puzzled the boy. , Wai-Bow and his party were in the act of t entering the village at the time of the theft, & hence their presence on the scene to Dandy Jack’s discomfiture. , . The “town” was now a scene of wild activi- ty; the Indian killed by Sun-Dance at the cor- rag Bent been ee tate rae om sav Pecan tations over the corpse were hideous and di ing. Every dog in the place was awake, sditng to the Bedlamic din. a are The dead bear, a great favorite, as was easily seen, had been dragged to the square-shaped spot in the center of tho town, and laid beside the dead brave. The “square” was filled with savages of all ages, and the two sexesx the mingled their Broans, curses, and terrible ‘threats, and Dandy Jack involuntarily shrunk nearer to the bread breast of War-Bow, as he -~was led to the spot. The crowd made way for the cavalcade, and trained its eyes to see what the chief held in his arms. Fora moment they seemed to think that Sun-Dance had fallen into the clutches of the band, and the Terror’s name began to be heard on every side; but when they overed ‘that the captive’s face was white, disgust took the place of triumph. f “Where is Oregon?” cried War-Bow, looking oe _ through the crowd for the man whose name he ey ‘uttered with a half-concealed sneer. Ky “Here!” was the reply, and a man clad in ine. civilized garments came forward. 98 The accent proclaimed the speaker a white v r rahi but his face was enough to make one doubt os y e it. Hi * == The work of Luke Whittles’s heavy whip was iy easy to see. The bandit’s face resembled that ae _ of a pugilist, who unfortunately gets: his head es in chancery, and is brutal) ed. His fea- pe, tures were not recognizable; the ayes were al- ., ; ~ mnost shut; the whole face swollen and erage betas! _ and one of his ears apparently forced into the velde, disappointed at seeing the boy. ‘The + real scamp—that Luke Whittles, hie exit -. War-Bow, a ‘Throw the young fighting-cock down T’'ll string him on my knife.” “White boy War-Bow’s bi. Ob, you've got the little devil!” said Marte- | J want to kill gran Siig me. , an I won't Serpe in yoursport. Who is following the ef? ‘Nobody. He will not bother us any more, and Sun-Dance is going through the grass for the last time.” Oregon Leon gave the chief a malicious look, and bit his swollen lip. “Oh, curse you, youold villain!” he muttered under his breath. ‘Tl pay you for all this, Bless me if I don’t show you the biggest pile of ashes you ever saw, and that before long, too!” He turned madly on his heel as he uttered the last sentence, and touched an old savage, fan- tastically dressed. “Come and srs doctor my face,” he said. ‘‘The numbness is leaving it now, and I feel as if I had been pounded with a hammer. I won- der if he did all of it witha whip. We'll meet again, Luke Whittles, and then—then it will not be a whip!” “He eet rather than walked through the crowd, which respectively made way for him, followed by the medicine man. The eyes of War-Bow went after the bandit. There was a glitter in them which seemed to say, “‘You can lord it over thé warriors, but not over me!” Then, at the chief’s command, a fire was_kin- dled in the ai and soon the place was illu- minated. This artificial light was hardly need- ed, for the full moon was up now, and the light fell uninterrupted upon the Snake village. As the flames shot upward the crowd drew back and mechanically formed a circle. War-Bow advanced to the center, and in a ee sharp tone called several names which andy Jack did not catch. Tn an instant the chief’s calls were answered, and three Indian boys sprung into the arena with the suppleness of YounE acrobats. They darted tow War-Bow, and shook their fists at Dandy Jack, at the same time dar- ing him in the Indian tongue to the combat. ‘ Fight?” said War-Bow, looking at our hero, in whose eyes resentment flashed. ‘One at a time, Little Fox-Tail, Kingfisher and Red Jack- Rabbit.” Dandy Jack did not xepty for a moment. ‘‘ They never hurt me!” he said, at length. War-Bow, with a grin, turned to the crowd and seemed to hi see Jack’s re ly, for there ‘food guttural exclamations and the clapping of a = wight, whether they ever hurt white boy or not!” he said, suddenly, and the next instant Jack found himself slipping from the chief’s He landed _right before the three youn lists, and War-Bow drew back to the circle. With a guick glance the young captive mea- sured the Indian boys from head to foot. They were about his hight, strong, athletic and sup- ple, and their, large arms glistened in a profu- sion of bear’s ; ; For ® moment Jack seemed to stand bewil- dered before them, and all at once they began to crow like game-cocks, and to beat their sides with their arms, as if they were wings. The as immensely pleased, looked on, ap- plauding the young Snakes, but hissing the white boy. ‘One at a time!” War-Bow suddenly cried. “The Red Jack-Rabbit will fight the boy first. Let Little Fox-Tail and Ki The two last named boys reluctant] srg eo back. Jack stood before the Red ack bbit, the strongest, if there were any difference of the three. The red boy’s eyes were mild, they did not flash with the vindictiveness of the Indian, there was much humor in Red Jack Rabbit. “I can’t get out of the fight!” Dandy Jack said to himself, as he surveyed his antagoyist, who stood ready for the combat. “TI don’t want to whip this boy, but the other two sha’n’t get one iota of mercy.” He planted himself firmly, as he finished, and the next minute Red Jack Rabbit o ened the “mill.” But the blow which he dealt was adroitly turned aside, and Jack’s hands seized his arms. But they slid off in a second, for they had been lately , and the scarlet gave the white boy a smart, half-play- blow, which added to his discomfiture. “Oh, if that’s your e, Vl play it too, my Red Jack Rabbit!” and the captive rushed up the little Snake, and, between a push and a pugi- uman eard the chief and ‘| blow, sent him sprawling on the ground several away. Cries of derision tas Red Jack Rabbit’s unlueky fall, and War-Bow applauded Dandy ; doe be. clanptog ‘his hands. . ; The Indian boy having struck partially on his ' er stand back !”’’ head, was slowly recovering, when, with shouts ; of revenge, Little Fox-Tail and sprung forward. ; : War-Bow called them back, but in vain; they er were mad; their blood was up, and nothing but . the avenging of their brother’s disgrace would satisfy. ne ‘‘Let them go! let them fight!” were the — cries that resounded on every side, and Jack braced himself for the attack. They reached him before Red Jack Rabbit could regain his feet, and without hesitation threw themselves upon him. “This is one at a time with a vengeance!” grated Dandy Jack. ‘‘ But you’re the ve young roosters I want to whip, for you haven got a good corner in your eyes, like the Rabbit as The first fair blow which the white boy de- livered sent Kingfisher staggering back, but | he vice recovered, and was at it again as - Little Tox-Tail dextrously tripped their antag- — onist; and the three rolled upon the ground in a tussle which grew exciting. Jack soon found that his gripes on the Indians’ arms and bodies were unavailing, because of the ~ bear grease, and he desisted in that direction. For a minute he was underneath, ponder 3 manfully and receiving the covert blows whic: the young pugilists dealt with delight. They did not look like human beings; but resembled cs a rough and tumble combat. e Indians were immensely amused; the circle contracted and the fight was watched ~ with interest. Jack’s hand at last fell upon a scalp-lock. If, too, was J Spagett but winding his fingers through it he h with all his might. At that moment he heard a cry of pain, and a pair of hands left his throat. He was holding Little Fox-Pail’s scalp-lock, and as the - boy tried to wrench it loose, the Indian’s face was exposed. And in a manner which enabled Jack to deal a stunning blow. The Indian boy’s head fell back, and at that moment Dandy Jack released the tuft of hair, Then he whirled and getting uppermost turn- ed his attention to Kin er. The Indian could not resist. the maddened white boy, and in less than a minute later Jack sprung to his feet with a cry of triumph which he could not keep back. Red Jack Rabbit was not to be seen; after his discomfiture he had shrunk unnoticed from the scene to show his face but once i stunn ve went up from a hundred savage hearts, he shook his fist in the faces of his foes. “Bring on your young game-cocks!” he shout- ed. “Fling them at me one—two—three at a time, just as you like, and I'll polish them off in aflash. If you haven’t any more boys, send in one of your sneaking chiefs. your whole tribe!” Dandy Jack’s blood was up. d it firmly and jerked it madly and ~ ae wins: Jack stood like a lion in the arena, & ~ foe on each side, and as a yell of re- I’m notafraid of | “T might as well dare the whole crowd, for ° they’re deat Bye kill me, anyhow!” he added un- der his breat \ CHAPTER XI. THE FIRM OF “SUN-DANCE AND BUTLER,” LxeavinG Dandy Jack in the Snake village, we will now return to the character whom we left flying from a band of mounted savages— Long Lige Butler. : The surprisal of the Indian by means of the — Sage Cock callhad resulted in no good; Butler, as we kavo seen, was compelled toslay the suv- and to fiy for his life. » Fortunately the night was about him; if is i been day his capture would have been but a question of time, and one soon settled at that; but the dim light enabled Lige to elude his foes. He stopped at last and muffled his palfrey’s feet with a portion of the blanket under the saddle, and when day dawned he looked from the edga of a clump of cottonwood kage aoe grew along the Fayette upon an endless and dreary plain Not the sign of a foe was in sight, and a smile of grim satisfaction crossed the 4 face as he looked over the waste. “Well, we sarcumvented the fe it he said stroking the bristly mane cf his animal “Thar’s one Injun what'll never hear another Sage Cock, an’ thar’s a hull lot of ’em what didn’t get the man they wanted last night.” Without more ado, the guide led the mule to the river and watched him drink with eaes- ness. As for himself he drew the remains cf a grouse or some other table fowl frcm the en ee fell to at ones, with keen relish. “ Still thar! i ong guide’s ~ he exclaimed, seeing the tin box '
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» reckless, an’ this proves that pemt*? 10 Beadle’s Half-Difié” Library. deepin one of the leathern pockets, as he hunted | You wouldn’t be table to the ladies jist | hoofs instantly confirmed the startling intelli- for the cooked bird. ‘“ To think that I rode my | now, for you look much like a b’iledowl. I | gence. beat last night with a can of niter glisserene | pic Rage.and terror took ion of the assem- joltin’ under me! Wal, some men are mighty Bo Butler is one o’ them. Niter glisserene! guess I won't seve. $0 death as long as I hev got this box ! Like all men of his calling, the guide was at - home on the plains. The country west of the again . the many trails that crossed them and cut them RP were, with but few exceptions, familiar t m. Mountains was as an open book to him; he had crossed the plains again and in, and to Well did he acknowledge the truth of Oregon Leon’s assertion that the country of the hostile | Snakes, was a land of death; but that did not deter him from undertaking the rescue of Dandy Jack and Estil, The =n of leaving them to their fate had never entered his min He was still the ‘‘ maddest man in Oregon.” Several days and nights had intervened be- tween the consummation of plotted rascality on the Oregon trail, and Butler’s last adventure with the Indians. He was now not far from the village of the hostiles, as he well knew from — of the country, and the course of the ver. He believed that both Jack and Estil were there, and his fervent wish was that he would encounter Luke Whittles. Long Lige had some- thing terrible in store for the thief. Seated astride of the mule at the edge of the cottonwoods, the long qs saw the sunlight creep over the plain. is eye noticed every- thing; the waving of the river grass by the morning wind did not escape him. It was in the midst of his scouting that a creeping object crossed his line of vision. It did not glide along the edge of the distant hori- zon to suggest a herd of buffaloes or a band of ro Indians; but on the contrary crept slow- ly painfully toward the river. Long Lige saw that the object had the move- ments of a man, and the dark figure, now and then observable, told him that the creeper was an Indian. The guide hated everything red; the savage of the plains was to him the symbol of treachery and meanness, An Injun’s crawled upon the landscape!” mur- mured the guide, “It’s kind o’ queer to see ee one hyar, an’ without a horse at that. Suthin’s wrong with the red-skin; he crawls like « person what had a bullet in his back. Goin’ down to the river fur a drink, p’raps. Wal, [ll go down thar, too!” Builer now dismounted, and at his command, the mule fell over on his side and lay still. Unarmed save with a revolver, Lige began to approach the Indian, still crawling painfull toward ths river; and at last he saw him reac the water’s edge. A yd of delight fell from the red-skin’s throat as he thrust his face forward, and he began to fill himself with the not very wholesome bever- age. ‘* Lord! it does him good to drink!” ejaculated Long Lige, looking on with pleasure. *‘ He acts as if he hedn’t tasted water fur a week, He’s been drinkin’ fur five minutes, an’ he’ll not stop till the river's dry if I don’t stop ’im.” The guide now moved cautiously upon the gavage again, and at last reached his very side uaperceived. I say, Injun!” With a rghogy ery the drinker back and fastened his blood-shot eyes upon the old “Thunder an’ lightnin’! what’s the matter?” eontinued Butler, as much startled by the Indian’s ap ce as the red had been by his. “You hevn’t got a piece of whole skin on you! whar hev you been? For a moment the Indian made noreply. He was a pitiable looking object, bleeding from head to foot and the blood mixed with dust and ve hes of grass blades, rendered him absolutely eous. ‘* Whar hev you been?’ the guide repeated. hs One thing’s sartin; yer beauty’s sp’iled for- ever!” ** Sun-Dance has been dragged behind a ! ‘‘Sun-Dance—thet devil what keeps the Snakes in hot water all the time? First time I ever * met you. Wal, I should suggest that you hev been dragged. At the end of a lasso, too, for ho did thar’s the marks of one on yer wrist, q ce eee thief!” said Sun-Dance, shutting “That's what I call Luke Whittles,” said “at no more talkin’ till I fix you up. Butler, up a few traps at the wagon, among ’em a bottle of arnica, which we’ve got to weaken for you.” At the mention of the wagon the Tlamath opened his eyes. “Wagon!” he said. ‘‘ White boy and Sun- Dance drop some Snakes there.” The guide did not reply, but rolled up his sleeves and began to wash the Indian, who shut his teeth bard, and while he bore the pain with admirable stoicism, his eyes looked thankful- ness upon Butler. “The white thief rode like the wind,” he said. ‘‘Sun-Dance long time to cut the lasso with his knife, and at last it cut cord.” pg Sh e did not until the blood and earth m carefully washed from the In- dian’s body by the waters of the Fayette. He then discovered that the wounds were not seri- ous, consisting in the main of abrasions and bruises, which the arnica would soon heal. The most serious hurt was on the wrist encir- cled by the lasso during the Tlamath’s forced ourney over the plains. It was terribly swol- m and very painful, but the guide assured the Indian that it was not broken. ‘“* Now tell me everything!” he said to Sun- Dance after his hurts had been attended to. The Indian then proceeded and recounted his adventures from the capture of Dandy Jack at the wagon to his own late mishap. ng Lige listened without interrupting him once. “The young ’un’s been caught—that’s purty sartin,” the guide said at the conclusion of the thrilling narrative. ‘‘ An’ the gal—she’s with Luke ittles, the honery skunk, if some Injuns hevn’t robbed him of her. He won’t kill ‘the gag: not that kind, so we kin let that go or a while, The boy is the closest an’ he’s in danger; teh ae Leon’s in the Injun village, an’ he wouldn’t hesitate to put an end to him. The boy first, Sun-Dance. How do you vote on the question?” The Indian’s eyes flashed. ‘‘Of course Sun-Dance hates the man who dragged him!” said the Tlamath. “that's nat’ral!” replied Lige. ‘But jest now you’re in no condition to hunt anybody. Why, you can’t stand ’thout help.” “Can’t, white man?” ashed the savage in derision, and without assistance he sprung to his feet and looked triumphantly down upon the astonished guide. ‘‘ Vengeance makes Sun- Dance well! He is ready to go with the white guide. If he says ‘‘ to the boy first,” to the boy they £2. Jack is brave, an’ him an’ Sun-Dance are brothers. If he says for Sun-Dance to go eu hunt the girl alone an’ pay the stealer k for draggin’ him, he go right off. The Tlamath does not feel the pain now. See! he could twist his big wrist, an’ never make a cry.” And to illustrate his meaning, the savage sud- denly seized his swollen wrist and gave it a wrench that made Long Lige dart forward a ery of horror on his ag ‘You're a devil, Injun!” the guide cried. ** Don’t do that ag’in; it makes my flesh creep!” Sun-Dance laughed demoniacally. * The boy Rese continued Butler,’ ‘* We’ve got the hull Snake nation to fight, an’ two of the biggest white rascals thet ever lived—Leon Martevelde an’ Luke Whittles. We're pard- ners, Sun-Dance. Give me yer hand.” The two hands, “To stic ther till we’ve got the young sparkling eyes. ‘* Never, white man!” “That’s business, Injun! ‘You're the only red- skfh what Lige Butler ever took up with. Now for the long trail, Meanness for meanness— that’s the motto!” CHAPTER XII LUKE WHITTLES LOSES A PRISONER. We have seen a specimen of Dandy Jack’s pluck displayed in the presence of the greater rt of the Snake tribe. His battle with the ndian boys has won for h..o the admiration of the reader. After that, believing that the torture would follow, he faced the principal chiefs and dared them to confront him in the firelit arena. His epithets hurled at the Indians stung them to the quick, and it is highly probable that several would have taken up the glove, if an incident, unexpected, and, to the savages, startling, had not occurred. A report came from the corral that the horses stampeded, and the thunder of a thousand bly. War-Bow remanded Jack to the care of a chief who seized him rudely and carried him away on horseback. With wild cries, the wit- nesses to the pugilistic encounter hastened to the corral, as if the sound of hoofs, rapidly epee indistinct, was not evidence enough of e stampede WarBow was the first to reach the ‘‘corral,” if the cottonwood limbs that served as a fence could boast of the title, He found the inclosure broken, and the limbs scattered. The guard had a strange story to tell, He said tasingular steed had suddenly made his appearance. This animal at once commenced to gallop around the mclosure, with head and tail erect, and making a series of whinnies, which the confused guard could not describe. A piece of rope, like a lasso, encir- cled the animal’s neck. A fre seemed to take possession of the occupants of the corral; they followed the strange horse round and round, and at last, as he darted off toward the river, they rushed against the barricade, tore it down and thundered away after the stampeder. This was substantially the story of the stam- pede as told by its only human spectator, W ar-Bow listened to it with impatience, and with a half-contemptuous curling of his lip. He asked the guard why he did not try to shoot the strange steed, and when that worthy pro- tested that he thought the horse might be a be- ing from the unseen land, he received the chief’s tomahawk full in his forehead. The guard sunk quivering to the earth, anda half-suppressed cry of horror fell frcm the lips of the spectators. ‘Tt was the horse of Sun-Dance!” said War- Bow. ‘His master has taught him to stampede our horses. Come! we must catch him.” The only available steeds left to the Snakes were those lately ridden into the village by ree and his band, some thirty horses in N But no time was to be lost; the thunder of the mad hoofs could be heard no more, and without adieu the Snake chieftain and his followers started in pursuit. Several hours had passed since Luke Whit- tles’s flight from the village with Estil in his arms. The reader has not forgotten the circumstances attending the flight; how Sun-Dance lassced bim as he was mounting his horse to be dragged away at a rapid epeed hehind the horse’s heels. Luke’s arms were fastened to his side by the rope; but he managed to keep a firm gripe on the: stout reins; this alone kept him from being pull- ed with his captive from the horse. He had a knife and pistols in his belt, but could use neither. The arms of the girl were comparatively free, but she was quite uncon- scious, and he had to wait until she recovered, , still on! : Now and then Luke glanced over his shoulder, to see the body of his foe still bounding on be- hind him. ‘ a “Tm doin’ the Snakes a sarvice by killin’ Sun- Dance in this manner—that’s what I hate!” he said, the first words he bad uttered for miles, He hardly ever took his eyes from the face of the girl, now white in the moonli ht. The lasso. passing around her body made her doubly his prisoner. Would she never wake, as she could cut the lasso and free them both? _ It was with an ejacelation of joy that he at last saw Estil’s eyes open. “Thank heaven!” he cried. “‘ Here, girl, take knife and cut this infarnal lasso!” il seemed to understand him at once, but she hesitated as her fingers touched the hilt of the knife. You are carrying me off for your own pur- pose!” she said, accusingly. “You will not re store me to my friends. “ Pish!” sneered Luke, but beginning to be- lieve that he was not going to find a helpmate m in the girl, ‘““That’s woman’s talk all over; but this isn’t the time for it. Let the rope be then, , an’ Pl a corpse in my arms afore long.” Estil felt the cutting of the cord, it seemed to contract while he spoke, and she drew the knife. “God make my work for the best!” she in- wardly said, as she thrust the blade between Luke’s arm and the cord, and cut outward. The stout lariat resisted her efforts for several moments; but, encouraged by the teamster, she persisted, until the last strand and they were free, Sun-Dance had been left behind! Awhile after the severing of the lazo Lake rode at a more moderate gait. He wanted to
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Dandy Jack. 11 hats Nite for he believed that he was not fol- wed. In this the thief of the plains was mistaken. ‘Whither are we going?” Estil asked, looking up into his face. “Pll be hanged if Iknow! We're gettin’ away from the Injuns just now,” he said. “Then you are not going back to the Oregon trail?” the girl said, disappointedly. “P’raps not!” was the ade 96g rejoinder. **You see, gal, the atmosphere back thar might not be the healthiest kind for Luke Whittles, To come squar’ out, I guess you needn’t fret tuch about yer situation, Im goin’ whar I please, an’ do the same, now that I’ve got ou!” A Estil’s cheeks, pale before, seemed to grow white. ‘“*You’re uncommon purty!” he continued, fastening his eyes upon the little maid. ‘‘ Thar’s a pile 0’ eis og ar you in the minin’ camps, an’ thar, von id , Safer than hyar. What d’ye uty? e girl did not reply, but turned her head away. t Worth a thousand ati the camps!” she heard the villain mutter. ‘‘An’ [Pll take her to ’em er die—that’s all)” The break of day found the traitor and his captive still on the plains. The horse was pro- ceeding ata light gallop in a south-easterly di- rection, or toward the head-waters of the Big Wood branch of the Oregon. ‘* Thar’s a queer sound behind us!” said Luke all at once, ‘I’ve heerd it fur some time an’ now it’s gettin’ louder. Whoa! Lightnin’; we'll investigate afore we proceed further.” The horse was quite willing to stop, and Luke rising erect Jooked back in the direction of the Snake village now suiles and miles away. For sever'l moments he saw nothing, but heard the cminous sound which had annoyed. him for sorae time. “Tt sovnds like a herd of wild hosses!” he said, ‘‘’sy Jove! if it’s a stampede, I want ’em to keep cl’ar of us.” At length the teamster discerned a dark line along the rim of the horizon, “ Tt’s a stampede, sartin!” he ejaculated after some minutes’ observation, and the next moment he fell astride of the horse again. Estil saw by his countenance that he consid- ered the momeut one of t peril, and the manner in which he,dug the heavy spurs into the rowels of the horse, confirmed her observa- ‘tion. ‘ ‘*Mebbe thoy’ll miss us!” he said in response to Estil’s look. ‘But I was born under an unlucky star, an’ they’re likely to run me down. Cuss the fiend what stampeded them!” He did not have to stand up to see the on- coming herd now. The thunder of their hoofs mat to shake the earth; their many heads were erect, and their flying manes distinctly geen, ‘¢ Jest as I expected!” Luke Whittles said at last gritting his teeth like a villain driven to the wall Ly his trackers. “What’s the use of a horse ‘#rryin’ double an’ near! tagged out be- sides try’n’ to outrun a herd of fresh horses what hevn’t a bit atween their teeth? Thar’s no use in that, an’ thar’s only one thing what kin be done. Isee’d Long Lige do it once up the Yel- low Medicine, It’s the per en gal!” Estil did not inquire in © meaning of his words, for he turned his steed straight toward the wild herd and drew his pistols. “A carbine would be better for the ball is bigger,” he said; ‘‘ but we've got to put up with the pistols, Stan’ still, htnin’! You’re an Injun hoss'an’ know jest what I’m Lie close before me, gal, an’ don’t bother my arm. If I kin pick the leaders, why, the herd ‘ll divide an’ go around us.” Estil cast a look at the herd before she ducked her head behind the horse's neck, The sight which she saw was magnificent; the horses were rushing straight upon them, led by a noble specimen of the race. Luke Whittles’s eyes beamed with an unnatu- ral fire as he waited the onset, His white lips seemed glued together, and the great revolvers ap a part of his hands. He never took his eyes from the leaders of the gang, two strong limbed piebalds, majestic and beautiful. He waited till they came within pistol-shot, and all at once his pistols were thrust forward. ‘“Thar! an’ thar!” he exclaimed as he touched the different triggers. One of the piebald steeds fell; the other jerked his h one side, and with a strange cry kept on. A cloud of dust rolled up from the roots of the grass, and with an oath Luke flung the pis- back, and ae down. Then he seized ,the lines; but two te! The herd was upon him! Lightning, the horse, realized his own danger, and tried to turn and run with the herd, but in vain! The thunderbolts struck him, and bore him = upon his haunches. The collision was ter- rible. The of a young girl was heard, only for a ioanentt the wild neighing and the Chandar of the hoofs stifled it. A moment later the herd had passed beyond the io Where the brief battle had been fought, lay a horse and a man. ‘Jest as I expected!” ted Whittles, rais- ing himself with difficulty and taking a survey of his surroundi ‘Lightnin’ dead, killed by his own kind, an’ I’m in a bad fix myself. But the gal—what I war takin’ to the mines! What’s become o’ her? Thet’s the question!” Luke looked at the cloud of dust that marked the course of the wild horses, and gritted his teeth for very rage. CHAPTER XIII. THE FRYING-PAN AND THE FIRE. THe chief who bore Dandy Jack from the arena at the command of War-Bow put him down in front of the very lodge from which Estil had lately been borne by Luke the traitor. The Indian was not gentle in his handling of the boy, and Jack drew a breath of relief when he saw that he was about to quit the scarlet talons. Dragging the doomed youth to the wig- wam, the Snake hurriedly bound him and thrust him into the structure with a ene ge ejacula- tion of mingled hatred and contempt. ‘““No bear guard white boy for e thief to kill,” said the Indian after Jack had fallen head- long upon the couch. ‘“That’s a poly thing!” answered the boy. “When a fellow’s bound, a bear guard is not the most desirable. I’m going to take things just as they come, and just now they’re coming fast and furious. Wonder where they all are now—Lige, Sun-Dance, Luke Whittles, Estil— all of them?’ The darkness that enveloped him, for the cur- tain had fallen back into its place, seemed palpa- ble; but he felt that the Indian was listening, for he did not hear him depart. — ‘Mighty uncomfortable tion this,” he murmt to himself. ‘ But didn’t I give it to Little Fox-tail and Kingfisher? fancy that one scalp-lock is loose at the roots, and that two eyes are nearly shut. Red Jack Rabbit—I hope I didn’t hurt him, for he had such pretty eyes— they were mild and harmless. If he hurt him- self when he fell, I hope it is nothing serious. We could be friends without much trouble; he’s got a big heart, Red Jack Rabbit has, and an dian name that suits him to a ‘t.’” Dandy Jack did not attempt to escape, but as- sumed the most comfortable position attainable, resolving to wait till dawn if undisturbed that long. As the moments waned the sounds of tumult in the Indian town began to decrease, and presently it was comparatively quiet, Now and then the wolfish howl of a dog fell mourn- fully upon the heart of the boy captive, and he would try to shut his ears to the di echoes that came back from the cottonwoods along the river. ‘The longer I wait the stiller the night gets,” Dandy Jack said, speaking for the first time in é there’s several hours. a guard at the door he hasn’t moved for a | time. I believe he’s sneaked off and left me alone.” Intent u discovering whether the guard had actually decamped, ack began to roll to- ward the door, the ition of which he knew by the pleasant wind that Game between the curtains His movements were cautious and successful, and he at last reached the goal. Parting the curtains with his foot he looked out, The stars were shining with unwonted brilliancy; but J oe pues not discover the statue figure of the guard. _“* Wonder if a fellow couldn’t roll through the village to theriver, It’s a long ways; but what won't a person do for liberty? I can find the stream; the wind will tell me where it is, and— Be gem ! I'm going to try the roll, if it kills me Dandy Jack had an active brain. He formed and executed them rapidly, not stopping : aoe all the dangers attendant upon many of them. To roll through a hostile Indian village swarm- ing with keen-scented dogs and keener humans was no child’s play. There are few old front- iersmen who would undertake the journey ; they bits regard such a proposition as the hight of olly. Safety seemed to beckon to Dandy Jack from the river bank; he saw her figure, and not the death-enyironed thoroughfare through the vil- . His from some, to him, unaccount- “ym e reason, had left his post. Why hesitate onger? hen the boy uttered the determination to reach the river, a good mile away, or die in the attempt, he meant just what he said. Thrusting his head perce the curtains of the Sy deheee he listened with almost throbless heart. If he had known at that moment that Long Lige Butler was not far away, he might have altered his intention and awaited events. ‘Here goes, win or lose!” ejaculated the little hero, pushing his body into the night. ‘I ho Heaven will watch over Dandy Jack, and him to the river.” The roll—for a crawl] the movement certainly was not—commenced under pit aye circum- stances. It was the darkest hour of the Bw “is and not far remote from dawn. The ess: Indians even seemed to sleep; the turmoil of the yard just — pavomg 04 and nye, or eaven, a to keep the curious dogs more be ce dtaned, by Dandy Jack than the trdtenn s oof, The boy rolled cautiously toward the stream bruising his hands bound upon his back, an Tat his route as well as his sight would per- mit in the night. “Thunder! a dog!” grated the boy as the bay- ing of a hound suddenly filled his ears like the a. of rigs “T'm half-wa ow, and getting above, keep fhe do The mse to the Geen favina, louder and nearer than before. Jack nena to ascertain the location of the brute, and soon found that it was app i from the river. Between him and the goal of safety! No pleasant thought. “Out of the frying-pan into the fire!” the boy murmured with grim humor revealed in his eyes alone. ‘‘ Gods! what unearthly howls! e animal must be mad or dying.” On, on came the dog as yet unseen; but a real terror, as well he might be; to Dandy Jack. All at once the boy stopped rolling, and the attitude which he assumed near a lodge told that he in- tended to wait for the animal and trust to luck. Moments now seemed hours to the boy. They were precious, for each flitting by brought day- light and consequently discovery nearer. Jack kept his face to the wind, his eyes on the look- out for the dismal dog. At last something took shape before him in the dim starlight. That it was the canine, a mournful how] attested. J held his ,breath. Perhaps the animal would pass him by, and allow him to pursue his precious journey unmolested. The boy was actually taking heart when the fire-balls—the dog's eyes—became ae greg & not twenty feet away. Lg A appeared to fixed intently upon him, and Jack, as he looked gritted his teeth in impotent rage. ** Mebbe the brute will take a notion to move on d’rectly,” murmured Jack; but the beginning of another hour found the fiery orbs still there. ‘I can have the dog upon me in a minute by pushing forward. If [ had a knife forward, I'd ge: Bat tied hand and foot I’m helpless! help- ess Some gg cade, sags fate had sent the canine to interrupt Dandy Jack’s flight to freedom; but he did not d ir. The howls of the anima] had ceased : his whole evtention seemed to be centered upon the bound tive. other hour and Jack saw the sky getting light; the stars seemed to fade away, and a fresher, cooler breeze fanned his face. It was getting daylight. One by one the golden orbs of the sky melted away, as it were, and Peete oe a i lodges began to appear. e dog re its position as if determined to doom the boy. “Td be better off if 1 was back in the prison lodge!” Dandy Jack murmured. “ Fishes and eels! what was that?” The boy’s exclamation was caused iy be singu- lar noise apparently overhead, He looked up and saw a red face regarding him from the door of the wigwam against which he lay. Dandy Jack could not fly; all that he could do he did, and that was to gaze, to stare inte the scarlet countenance “ White fighter!” ejaculated the red lips of the
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- } and cocked it quickly. 12 apparition, @hilo Dandy Jack continued to stare. ‘‘ Great Spirit guide him here!” There was glee in the tone, but whether fiend- ish or not the boy could not determine before the figure sprung like a cataraount upon him. In the twinkling of an eye Dandy Jack was lifted from the ground and flung headioag into the new tent—a prisoner once more. His captor sprung hastily in after him. “What white fighter stop for?’ was the, de- mand, . “The rascally dog got into my path.” A apes laugh followed Jack’s answer, and he was dragged to the opening. ' ‘““White fighter afraid of dead dog? See!” _ said the Indian, parting the curtains and point- Ang out. } 4 ack looked and bit his lips in cha; » There was a feathered shaft in the animal’s side, and he had evidently been dead some “Dead dog leep boy from goin’ on!” the In- dian said. Him come to stay here till Red Jack Rabbit say go!” Dandy Jack started at the mention of the, “name, and then for the first time saw that he thad rolled into the hands of Red Jack Rabbit, the Indian youth whom he had lately overcome in the arena. CHAPTER XIV. THE DEED OF A DEMON, “THat’s the knife, Snakefoot! Where did “you get it?” As Oregon Leon spoke he put forth a hand, and took the weapon which the Indian who had just entered his tent extended, ‘Find it in lodge where white girl was!” “Aha! It’s the knife which some Indian gave her and I hunted for him last night.’ You folk as if you recognize the blade, Snakefoot, Tell me if you do. She said [ did not dare to touch the owner. If they stood before me now, I'd show her that I dared.” “Knife b’long to Indian boy—Red Jack Rab- bit!” the red-skin said. “That boy!” said Leon, sneeringly. ‘* That . boy her friend! Oh! I suppose the copper-color- ed urchin was smitten and thought to get her away. May be he had a hand in with Luke the— ‘No! Red Jack Rabbit somewhere ’bout zit" interrupted the Indian. ‘‘ Him fight white y last night, an’ git licked. White chick not a * found yit.’ ‘ ‘“The boy beats the deuce!” said Marteyelde. “Last night he was flung bound into a wigwam; this morning the place was Snir, no sign of cut cords anywhere, no trail! d believe in ‘ghosts, Snakefoot, if I hadn’t too much sense. ire they hunting for him yet?” : “‘Injuns pe up hunt. Bad spirits carry white boy off.” , “Pish! old ghost-eater!” sneered the bandit. “Tf I wanted to surprise the village, I'd go out and lay my hands on the young rascal; but it isn’t my time. War-Bow and his horse-hun- ters not in yet?’ Snakefoot shook his head, “The horse that stampeded the corral is an aid hand at the business. Why, you know, Snakefoot, that we can train horses to stampede a corral and we needn’t go near. Catch those animals? War-Bow will have to follow them to sundown if he ves es to perform that feat, But are you ready for the business?” “ Snakefoot would like time to study over it.” “Thunder and guns!” vociferatea Leon. “You'd study till your head was gray. I’m half Indian! “I know your race as well as you do, and I never heard of one taking a por per tion into consideration before. Study? not one minute for that!” As Martevelde uttered the last word, he snatched up a revolver which lay on the rough stand with which the apartment was provided The Indian s back at the action with an ejaculation of wrath. “This is a desperate scheme which admite of no study—especially by you!” continued the bandit, looking the savage in the eye. ‘‘ Now make up your mind very quick, or I'll drive a bullet through your brain.” } The devil-light of madness danced in Marte- veldle’s eyes. Ihe Snaik efoot will do it.” _ “No shenanegan!” the bandit said. fancy the light in your eye. Trust an Indian only in sight; that’s what the soldiers say, and I guess they’ve hit the nail on the head. ow’ll fo eee “ Swear it?” — T don’t, “ Yes }”? ** Well, we'll try you. . By the bones of your mother! by the Manitou’s lodge and your plat. in Spirit land you will obey me?’ ‘‘ Snakefoot swears.” ‘“ Now!” continued Martevelde, ‘‘ to-night the time. War-Bow has insulted me, the dirty In- dian dog. He will soon-plot against me; but he shall never lift his voice against Oregon Leon, the very man who put him at the head of six hundred warriors in this village. Snake- foot, go and prepare the two horses, yours and mine; they were not in the big corral last night, thank fortune. When you areready come back. I'll fix the other things!” The Indian) listened to the bandit, and then withdrew. ‘* A white man’s getting down when he leagues with an Indian to carry out his own plans,” Martevelde said with a grin. ‘ Didn’t I say last night that War-Bow wouldsoon see his big- gest pile of ashes? Talk about gratitude! Why it isn’t in an Indian, and I know them better than thejnext man. He was a miserable trap- plunderer up on Yellow Medicine when I first met him. brought him down here and by degrees lifted him in the estimation of the Snakes. Up and up he went, till I nga f made him chief. It took lying, secret blood- letting, and all that, but I made him chief of this branch of the Snake nation—I, Leon Marte- velde. Now he pays me back. Don’t I know, War-Bow, that you are plotting against me? and do you dream that I’m going to fold my arms and take your stab quietly? No! I’m go- ing to leave your village—and it’s going to leave you at the same time. I can divide the tribe at any time, but perhaps Pll not try that. Once out of this place, Pll hunt two perscns down. I intend to kill one and the other—ha! Estil, you shall yet be Leon Martevelde’s!” He brought his clenched hand down heavily on the table. ‘He looked like the most ferocious pictures of the wounded bandit. A bloody bandage over his forehead told that he had not recovered from the blow which Luke Whittles dealt with the heavy whip. His cheeks wore a hue that was not nature’s; his eyes, bloodshot and mad, gave him the look of a tiger. The ex-agent’s supremacy over the red Arabs of the plains was drawing to a close. The very person whom, by chicanery well planned and carried out, he had eleva to sachemship was plotting against him, for War-Bow dreaded the white man for his subtlety. After Snakefoot’s departure, Oregon Leon be- gan to pene two torches. | He worked away in the ligh stand, and at last finished his task. ‘They'll go like a flash!” he said, eying his work with a look of fiendish pee , There hasn’t been a drop of rain on the lodg months, and the wind blows from the north. Good luck all around. I hada little bad last night. It came in the shape of Luke Whittles.” shut his teeth hard behind the traitor’s name, : “Every dog has his day, Luke, and on your last one, I’m going to skin you alive!” At this moment the door gt a and Snake- ** At the old cottonwood.” “That's business! Here, take the torch. You've got matches in your pouch. Now let’s get to work.” One of the prepared flambeaux was thrust in- to the Indian’s hand, he took it reluctantly. Martevelde picked up a revolver and thrust itinto his belt. “T came into this eountry with nothing and I'll take this with me,” he said, with a triumph- ant glance at the Snake. “What de you want to say? There’s a word on the end of your tongue, so spit it out.” ‘*Snakefoot knows where the white boy’s been hidin’ all day,” said the Indian. “‘Pshaw! is that all?’ said Martevelde. ‘I knew that. Well, we'll rout him out before many mirrmtes, and he'll get his hair singed, p’r’aps. Come on!” Oregon Leon snuffed the candle out with his rs, and motioned Snakefoot from the lodge. © next moment they stood in the dim star- light, the only sound the chirping of a cricket near by. Like ghosts the two figures glided through the village making a path to the north. A good strong wind was blowing from that direction. After a ¢rawl and walk of some minutes they ' found two horses tethered by Indian bridles to Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. of the candle which burned ‘on the> es for four | — 4 cottonwood at the edge of the village. Stretch- ing east: and west from this spot was a dark ob- ject which seemed to be a breastwork; but which in reality was a heap of parched grass, eres for a diabolical purpose. ‘* Bless the wind!” said Oregon Leon, fiendish- ly, not fervently. ‘And you’ve done your work well, as far as I can see, Snakefoot. Now for the big light!” He stooped before the work of grass and struck a match on his legging. He applied the vlaze to the torch and saw it flash. Snakefoot did the same. ‘You run right, I run left! Meet me here,” Martevelde said to the Indian, and then they separated, each running in the direction indica- tea with the torch in the grass. The ignition was instantaneous; the wind blew the daucing flames forward, as if eager to car- ry out that part of the protean programme al- lotted to it by the bandit. With e. hiss and a roar the fire leaped against the nearest lodges and quickly ignited them. Nothing cculd check it now; the entire hostile village was doomed. Wild cries soon began to attest the inhabi- tants’ discovery of the disaster. “Let ’em howl!” Martevelde said, turning to Snakefoot, wht was contemplating the scene with no evident relish. ‘‘To-morrow, or when- ever he comes back, little heaps of ashes will greet War-Bow. This is my revenge! H efinds no fool in Leon Martevelde.” For several moments longer the couple con- templated the fire which now had the Snake village fairly in its grasp. It was a thrilling sight, and from the heat of the conflagration as it were came the mad cries of the savages. “Now, Jet us go. Nothing on earth can put itout. This is my good-by to War-Bow!” Without more adieu Oregor Leon vaulted into the saddle followed by the Indian, “Your tomahawk, just one minute! said the ex: Revol, turning to his tool, and the next in- eri , he unresisted drew the weapor rum the “T guess I'll go alone. he suddenly said. The iron weapon flew upward and Snakefoot I don’t like you™ wye!” realizing his danger threw up an arm to arres* the blow; but too late! Down came the hatchet, and the Indian fel : from his horse—dead! ‘It is best to go alone!” Martevelde said leav: ing’ the weapon in the.brain of bis victim. ‘“Snakefoot wasn’t trustful—like all Indians.” Then he wheeled his steed, and darted to the orth. “Followed by the Indian’s horse!” he said after a minute’s — gallop. “And I don’t want to bebothered by anything just now.” He drew rein and waited for the steed to come up. _ Ina moment the animal came in sight, and as it stopped suddenly beside him the bandit of the a yeon started back to see a revolver thrust into s very face. “ “Said I war afeared to come into the Snake kentry, eh?’ said a rough voice behind the pis- tol. ‘I'm hyar, Oregon Leon, an’ I’m still the maddest man in Oregon.” F ‘* Lige Butler!” alana the’ bandit. “Long Lige Butler at your sarvice, an’ don’t forget that I’m pokin’ a pistol inter your face, It’s a pistol what goes off Oncommon easy, too,” The brigand’s face was ghastly. CHAPTER XV. ' INTO THE JAWS OF DFATH. “Fre! fire! Injun town ell burnin’ up!” These words uttered in accents of terror rous- ed Dandy Jack from the slumber which he wag enjoying in Red Jack Rabbit’s lodge. ince his capture by the Indian boy, his an- tagonist of the ring, an event which we have already witnessed, he had not stirred beyond the precinets of the wigwam. His escape from the prison lodge was discov- ered shortly after his singular flight from it, and nD a vigorous search wes at once instituted. Lying . in Red Jack Rabbit’s wigwam the boy hero heard his hunters pass and repass, the Indian Font hag well feigned zeal joining in the hunt meelf. But the’ beaters of the bush did not disclose the quarry, and at nightfa)l Red Jack Rabbit re- turned with lensed countenance. He was secreting Baitiy Jack for some he did not venture to reveal, and the boy him- self could not devise what it could be, It was a long day for Dandy Jack; the hours their slow lengths urpose which. dragged ong whil lay ‘jn the Indian lodge half covered wit dirty ot a buffalo-skins, ‘ sweating, hungry, and as ae es ui eit: cid a ee
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Dandy Jack. Treader Reay readily imagmys, in mo good bhu- mor... But when the words that oven the present chapter feil upon his ears he sprung to his feet to see Red Jack Rabbit plainly revealed by the lurid light of the flames. The Indian boy was holding back the curtains of the lodge with. his right hand. , C. >. . — Jack started from the sight with an involun- | n i ; | ticulations toward him, the entire group rushed tary exclamation of amazement. The whole world without seemed to be on fire and wild cries were mingled with the roar and hiss of the flames. ‘* Some one set town on fire!” the Rabbit said, answering the question of the white boy’s startled stare. ‘‘ Wind come from north, drive fire right before it. ‘Town all bound to burn!” ‘*'Tuen let us get out of it!” cried the captive. | and consequently toward the Indians, not see- “You're nob going to stay here and get burned | to a crisp?” A curious smile played with the young In- | dian’s lips. “Fire hurt red-skin just as much as it Hurt white.” “That's so!” confirmed Jack. ‘‘And if we stay here much longer we'll feel it, too.” For a moment Red Jack Rabbit continued to gaze into the bov’s face, and then his knife cut the thongs which had confined the captive’s hands, since his unfortunate roll.” “T spose I can go now?” Dandy Jack said looking gratefully into the Rabbit’s face. “Not alone. ‘White boy never git out if Red Jack Rabbit did not show him how.” “Then, come on,” A carbine was thrust into Dandy Jack’s hand | and a moment later he found himself beyond the precincts of the lodge. ‘*TLoaded?” he asked laconically, tapping the weapon. ‘¢ Sixteen!” was the reply. ‘‘ White boy look!” He felt himself whirled half-way round as the | young Snake spoke. A grand sight met his aze. * The fire sweeping like a demon before the wind which was now a blast, was swallowing up the lodges. The many structures, dry as tinde?, of course, offered no resistance to the flames, and whole lines of them disappeared as ifin a of gunpowder. The spectacle was awful; the frenzied savages had ceased to fight the devouring element, and were flying to the southernmost part of the village, loaded with the penates which bag could not abandon. The few warriors left behind, for a great “many had followed War-Bow after the stam- ed horses, were a set of desperate creatures. ey flitted like specters through the lurid light, followed by hordes of howling dogs, and push- ing lodges to the ground, in the forlorn hope of eee the fiery demon. ‘* Look to the right and the left!” Dandy Jack suddenly cried, seizing the arm of Red Jack Rabbit who bt tory to be stupefied by the con- , flagration. ‘‘We cannot stay here. The fire is hemming us in! It is closing in upon our flanks. The Indians see this and are fying to the south!” »“* Does white boy want to fly with them?” “‘ Not if there is any other outlet!” ‘Does he think there is?” “There ought to be for me!” Jack answered half ogee “Tf I had a horse I would Pk a that narrow street straight to the north. ‘Through the fire?” “ Yes ”» ; as Brave white boy! He shall go through the + Where is your horse?” “Stay there.” , With the command Red Jack Rabbit bound- ed from Dandy Jack’s side, and vanished in an instant. The white boy was alone. ; _ He stood for a moment longer in the light of Oregon Leon’s t fire exposed to the view of the excited Indians, when he sprung to the — of the Rabbit’s lodge, as yet undestroy- 2) “T rolled myself plump into the fire didn’t I?” _ he said to himself. ‘‘ Never was a boy in such a pickle before. It’s nip and tuck whether I out or not. What does that mean? Six , Inusket shots and a thousand yells. Maybe Red _, Jack Rabbit has to fight for his horse!” we f The sounds that were borne from the south- ‘western portion of the burning village to Dandy Jack’s ears, told him that something unusual was taking place. He listened with cocked car- bine in the shadow believing that the Snake ‘poy’s attempt to secure a horse for his flight 3 was be pi with force, } yells grew louder, which told the. boy their makers were coming toward him. ‘ t | gronmd behind him. | prey for a moment, | continued the boy; but the roar of fire and wind | drowned his voice. | the new arrival; their speech was accompanied | with gestures toward the dead and their slayer. There were no shots now; but fifty dogs were yelping vociferously. Gack suddenly saw a band of Indians; they had stopped in the light as if they had lost their The boy shrunk close to the side of the Rab- bit’s lodge; but he kept his eye on the savages. All at onee he heard wild yells of delight an- nounce a welcome discovery, and with wild ges- | forward. ‘Found out at last!” the boy grated, believ- | ing that his presence had been discovered. * In- | dians before me anda fire behind! It’s a tick- | lish situation; but I’m going to make the best I ean out of it.” Ee stepped almost to the edge of the shadow ing the dark figure which was rising from the ** tTere goes a few shots, you greasy wretch- es!” exclaimed the boy, and lifting the carbine to his shoulder, he poured several shots into the human pack which brought it to a sudden halt and left three bodies on the ground. “Stopped you, eh?” Cold lead isn’t to be: | fooled with!” cried the boy. Nonplussed by the shots from the shadow, the | Snakes did not know what to do. “Come on! There’s no run in Dandy Jack!” ) ~ | | He felt the heat on his back; the light fell on the astonished Indians; it was also chasing away his protective shadow. Suddenly a new cry was heard, then the snort and tramp of horses, and a magnificent looking Indian reined: in his froth-covered steed among the group. ““War-Bow!” ejaculated the boy, recognizing the sachem. ‘“ The light made him ride like the wind; but he can’t save the town.” He saw the Indians conversing excitedly with War-Bow suddenly sprung erect upon the back of his horse. en he tore his mantle of* skins from his shoulders and waved it over his | head, while loud cries pealed from his throat, “Tl make this tribe chieftainless!” said Dan- dy Jack, under his breath. The carbine, so fatal to the warriors a few minutes before, was raised against the chief; but before he could touch the trigger, a loud re- port seemed to deafen him, an War-Bow fell forward from his horse. ‘Thunder and guns!” exclaimed Dandy Jack, whirling in an instant upon the unseen marks- man. But before he caught sight of the slayer, he heard a familiar voice at his side. “Here, white boy! through fire.” It was Red Jack Rabbit! The boy and the excited horse which he held } seemed to have risen from the very earth. Their sudden a pearance startled Jack. “Quick!” cried the Indian. ‘‘War-Bow killed! Snakes rush into fire to pay white boy back.” - ‘“‘But I didn’t kill the chief. The shot came Take horse an’ ride from behind me.” Red Jack Rabbit seized Dandy Jack’s arm, and Fe him to the horse. “Get up an’ ride down narrow way. Fire ep eae pl They'll kill aa n’t you going, too? ey’ll kill you for befriending Aad 3 ¥ yA ' ‘No kill!” “They will!” said Jack. ‘I’m not in the habit of deserting friends. You've got to go with me, Jack Rabbit, or I don’t budge a peg!” The boy was determined; his manner and words told this; the Indian regarded him curi- ee A “Not go, eh?” ‘Not without you!” a Then—” The sentence was never finished, for a e leaped suddenly upon the contain tone wo tant from the sinew-rein, and dashed him %o the ground! Dandy Jack started back with am exeélama- tion of wonder and surprise. He saw a vault lightly upon the horse’s and before he could distinguish whether it was red or white, it et ivg forward and jerked him from the ground. The boy, lifted upon the steed, could not struggle: Sat he did not relinquish his hold on the carbine. He felt the animal bound forward and found himself enveloped in a dense cloud of offensive smoke. The person, whoever he was, was rid- ing into the very teeth of the fire! | ‘st | he could not 18. The heat grew intense but the horse went on: . probably up the narrow street, flame-fringed, which the boy bad already marked. He shut his eyes and felt himself carried on. When he opened them again he no longer seemed to be on earth—fire was everywhere around him! The strange being did not sit upright; his body was bent forward and his theck, rough as a stone, pressed hard against the boy’s. It was a time which Dandy Jack was never to forget. CHAPTER XVI. A KICKING MACHINE WANTED. THE appearance of Long Lige was enough te i | frighten Leon Marteveide. He fairly gasped when in the light of the stars | he saw the old guide before him with a pistol in his hand. He did not know that the old cottonwood to which Snakefoot had tethered the horses shel- tered the long hunter. Sun-Dance was some- where in the Snake village hunting for Dandy Jack, and after a certain length of time the young savage was to rejoin Butler at the tree, | and report the resu't of his investigations. From his retreat Long Lige had unexpectedly witnessed the coming of Snakefoot and Marte- velde, the firing of the village, and the brutal assassination of the former. When OregorrLeon turned his horse’s head to the north the guide resolved to bring him down; arbor the thought of the villain escaping, and so, leaping upon the animal from oO the Indian had fallen he thundered after m. His coming up with Martevelde we have already witnessed. “Now do you think I’m afraid to come into the Snake kentry?’ Butler shot at the white ruffian after a moment’s silence. “You are here, that is certain!” grated Marte- velde in no good humor. ‘*Why, to be sure!” smiled the guide. ‘‘ Now Oregon, whar’s the boy? The gal—she’s off with Luke Whittles somewhar, but we'll find er, “The boy? He’s back yonder!” said the rene- gade pointing to the lurid light that seemed to wrap the horizon in flame. ‘I Jeft him there. in the lodge of the meanest little Indian en earth, Red Jack Rabbit.” “« Just so, an’ he’s likely to git singed?” ‘Escape is impossible!” “Tt does your soul good to say this, Oregon! I see it in the epee of your eyes.” *“Why should I like the boy?” ““Thar’s no particlar reason for it I admit, You left him thar—in other words, desarted him. Now what do you think we’re goin’ to de with you?’ There was no reply. Leon Martevelde was looking into Butler's face without a word. “The question seems to strike you kinder. perceptibly,” the guide went on. ‘‘I never kill aman like po killed the ee back yonder Oregon, that was a mean, cold-blooded murder, jest the kind that a renegade vernment-agen} would commit. While I watched you from the tree, [ thought you would take the red-skir, away with you; but no; you give him his own hatchet—in his head. ‘Dead men tell no tales,* eh, Oregon? How fast is your horse?” The renegade started at the interrogative. ‘* He is new to me.” “New to me, too, is this critter,” said the guide. ‘‘I guess Sun-Dance an’ the boy kin take care ©’ themselves for awhile. I'll give you thirty feet me start. If I catch you, Oregon, thar settlement of accounts between. us. Are you ready?’ ‘“*T am ready!” : poe for’ard an’ ee Lige said. “I always give a man some show, though ious: little ’d give a feller. No ‘quibhlin’; ¢6 an” 272. There was a strange flash in Martevelde’s eyes as he turned from the guide to ride ie Sane far: life. . ‘7 kin see im all the time, I guess,” the old guide murmured to himself. _‘‘ It isn’t too dark allow him to git out o’ sight.” His sentence closed abruptly, for a sudden | a told him that the ex-agent was off like a hunderbolt, _ ‘“‘Now fur the chase!” Butler exclaimed, strik- ing the Indian horse in the flanks, and the next — oe race was ‘‘ on.” er the , level as a floor, there, pursuer- oo rime fol? like careering arrows, toa 6 burning e far behind them, as they rode — ward, on, en! | ; “He's gota good horse!” murmured the guide,
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- 14 -after he had ridden several miles without much mt success. “Tm gittin’ too far from un<Dance an’ the boy to suit me. Can’t I gain on the demon?” At length he discovered that he was gainin on the renegade, and presently his steed, misse for awhile, came in sight again, a dark object bounding over the plain. Long Lige changed his pistol from the right hand to the left. “T'll catch the rein an’ stop his horse,” he muttered. ‘‘I’ve given hima chance for life, an’ it won’t be murder if I catch ’im!” The distance between the horses now lessened arceptibly. « * He’s playin’ the Comanche tactics—gettin’ nder his animile to escape my bullet!” Butler ejaculated, noticing that Martevelde’s steed did not seem to carry a rider. ‘‘ But, Comanche or not, I’ll do the gineral government a sarvice to- night what might entitle Lige Butler toa pen- sion.” All the outrages committed by Oregon Leon rose in the guide’s mind as he bore down upon him, with the speed of certain fate. He would rid the Far West of one scoundrel who had cursed it for several years, making the Oregon trail a highway of death and disaster. The guide’s horse was rapidly nearing tihe ex- agent’s beast, which exhibited signs of fatigue: tlie race was at an end. ‘ At last the steeds were side by side, and as the head of Butler’s'shot forward, the guide’s hand seized the rein. **Whoa! Oregon!” he shouted, in stentorian tones, ‘‘I’ve got as my boy. Come! no Comanche game. Git up an’ act the man, fur Lige Butler stands no foolishnes, Nary time!” There was no response. The guide had stopped the ex-agent’s horse in the open plains; but not a sign of his rider was visible. ‘“Git up and show yourself!” repeated Long Lge, hastily. ‘‘ No foolin’,Oregon. Beaman .at this time, if you hev been a dog all your life.” Silence still! It perplexed the speaker, and, with an oath on his lips, he wheeled the horse half-way round to discover—what? that Leon Martevelde was not there! The old guide stared like a madman at the riderless steed. He could scarcely believe the «vidence of his ee Leon Martevelde gone?) Had he been chasing a riderless horse over the plain? ** Gone he is!” ted Butler, forced to admit that the renegade had outwitted him, ‘It beats my time all holler! Hyar I’ve been fol- lerin’ an empty saddle—all for nothin’, Once afore he outwitted me, down on the Oregon trail, an’ now for the second time. Dog-gone my foolishness! I hed him in my fingers back yonder ; but I got a good spell on me, an’ guv im a chance for his worthless life. Thar’s w I missed it. Say, ny, it you promise to ad- minister a good kickin’ Lige Butler will furnish the subject. I want to be kicked. Wal, thar’s no use cryin’ over broken jugs. The devil out- witted me, an’ he’ll be doin’ some rascally tricks afore mornin’, I’m mad! madder than I war when Luke Whittles tuck the wagon, an’ the young’uns.” —, The old guide beat his pistol stock with his elenched hand as was his wont when in a passion, and he looked the picture of chagrin. ‘Bless me if I wouldn’t head toward the mines an’ sell myself for a blasted fool ef the children was safe!” he continued. ‘‘A fel- lar doesn’t git credit on the great account book for every good act. I thought I war humane when I guy Oregon a chance; but I guess I wasn’t. He would hev stuck to the horse if he had any manhood left. No! he wouldn't either. I guess, Leon, you done just what Lige Butler would hev done under the sarcumstances. I’m goin’ back now, the biggest idiot what ever rode an Indian horse in these parts.” He struck Martevelde’s steed with his hand and having seen it bound away turned the head of his own beast toward the south. Far away appeared a line of light—the burn- ing village of the Snakes, and the guide a his eyes fastened upon it as he rede leisurely along. The chase had been fruitless. He had not only lost the bandit of the plains; but he was far from Sun-Dance and Dandy Jack whomight have fallen victims to fire or the tomahawk in the doomed town. i me oer war ee windy sips hyar!” ted Butler, again and again as he rodealong. Ta like to git before it, an’ let it kick me twenty-five miles!” - a Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. CHAPTER XVII. THE ENDING OF TWO RIDES. ‘HEAVEN help me an’ keep me from beneath the feet of these mad horses! It was the girl Estil who uttered’ this short butfervent prayer,as the stampeded horses head- ed by Little River, the Tlamath’s steed, rushed upon her, still in the arms of Whittles the trai- r’. The shock was terrible! Luke’s horse, as we have seen, was borne backward, himself and horse and the girl—flung, as if by some tremen- dous arm, into the very midst of the herd. As she struck, her hands closed upon a flying mane, and she felt herself carried on amid the thunder of hoofs, and the wild concert of neighs. Estil had no time to think of any mg ut self preservation, and that seemed to lie in her strength. If she\could cling to the animal which bore her on at such rapid gait she was as- sured of ultimate deliverance from the doom that threatened her, for the horses could not run forever. Therefore, she clung to the heavy mane with a terrible tenacity, but, soon realizing that she was liable at any moment to be struck by the bounding fore feet of the frightened beast, she oe arg to find safety by a seat on the horse’s ck, So swinging to and fro with a swaying mo- tion she soon threw her right foot up over the fore shoulder, and in a moment more was upon the mustang’s back—a veritable wild rider of a wild steed. Clinging to the long mane and rid- ing with the easy motion of the equestrienne, Estil felt a sense of delight in the dangerous situation. She was at least safe from the horri- ble danger of being trodden to death, and not without hope that ata propitious moment she could drop from the creature’s back and find a safe retreat in some covert of woods or plain. At length she saw a glittering something, What it was she did not know; but the horses seemed to greet it with whinnies of delight and quickened their hte ng Sa Very soon thereafter Estil knew that she was approaching a river, and the stampeders plunged madly into the water. They drank with inor- dinate while the girl looked on, her lips parched, and her mouth full as it were with the punishing alkali dust of the Reine It was a long time before the horses quenched their thirst, and then they turned from the river without pomyne their fair young prisoner one drop to cool her tongue, A few cottonwoods on the bank promised to afford shade and rest for the horses, and hailin the grass with erness, they began to roll. Then it was that Estil parti ly noticed the sireth hat hog) borne 2 tae wr t long ride now happily at an en oug. et. re- mained unassured, fi He was a beautiful iron gray with faultless limbs and a mien which proclaimed him a king among his race. As looked, he threw his head around and fixed his eyes upon her ina human-like look; large eyes they were, and glit- tering behind their fringe of alkali dust. The marks of a lasso encircled his arched gis and a band was visible on his shoulder. at once he walked away and selected a grassy spot for his roll. Esti] saw the movement and divining the steed’s intention lea to the ground, Free at last! but in the midst of scores of In- dian horses liable at any moment to become frightened and rush over her in a pene. e shrunk against a tree at the thought of her t danger while the iron gray began his wal- ow. ““Water! water!” gasped Estil turning to the river, and with the strength of desperation she moved slowly but with eagerness to the coveted ‘‘Thank Heaven for this!” she as she fell forward at last, her lips touching the water, muddy and impure, but clear and sweet toher. She drank long and greedily, quenching the awful thirst that raged within, and at fell Leet with a cry of thankfulness on the river’s ! 1 The moment when Dandy Jack found himself in the midst of the fire, as 1t were, was the most exciting one of his life. @ scarce could stir, for the arm of his rescuer was about him, and. the roughest of faces was pressed against his, A strong north wind rushed down the fire- fringed avenue; it gave the boy the air which he breathed with joy; but it did not seem to re- vive his companion. The horse never faltered. As if conscious of the duty assigned him, he dashed on until, te Dandy Jack’s unspeakable delight, the red gantlet was ended. Out from the fiery hell dashed the Indian horse, still agit ind is riders; over the black- ened ground where smoked the ruins of wig: wams, into the night dark as Erebus, and heavy with the stench of burning hides. _ The strange rescuer did not show any signs of life, even r the fire had been passed, an Jack at last felt the cheek getting cold. The arm around him relaxed when he made a movement to disentangle himself, and, as with great effort he freed himself from ‘the touch of the cheek, he spoke to his deliverer. “We're out of the fire now and still in the land of the living?’ he said. ‘‘ Hadn’t we bet- ter stop and take our bearings? I owe youa life for you came in the nick of time.” There was no reply, and the boy felt perplex- He could see the outlines of the figure which ~ he addressed; he could touch it, but the expres- sion: and the reason for the silence were hidden from him, ‘*Tt’s mighty queer!” Jack murmured to him- self. ‘* The fellow can’t be asleep. It’s no time for noddin’!” The horse was going on, but slowly durin these moments, and Jack had made himse quite comfortable on his back. “Tm going to see about this!” he said firmly at last. ‘‘Not another step will I go till I find wor you keep your mouth shut, old fellow!” e seized the rein and stopped the horse, and finally disengaged himself from his rescuer. As he did so the unknown swaved to the left, and then to Dandy Jack’s utter astonishment, fell to the ground! “Tt beats the Jews!” the amazed youth ex- claimed as he sprung from the horse, but kept his hand on the bridle-rein. ‘‘ The fellow acts like a dead man.” The boy rider now bent over the object lying motionless before him. His eyes accustomed to the darkness were becoming useful, and he saw . that the unknown was an Indian. Dandy Jack’s hand assisted him in the inspec- tion; it moved over the body to come in con tact with a feathered barb, and forced the boy back with a startling cry. ‘An arrow in the side, just like the dog had,” our hero said. ‘‘He’s dead! he died when the fire was around us, I expect. Now Dll tryw » find out who he is. Mebbe——” A sudden recognition broke the sentence; tho brass buckle of the Indian’s belt with ii. ‘ la: legend 4 U.S.” told the ct ‘It is Sun-Dance!” cried the boy. ‘ Twico has he saved my life! The skunks shot him in the side; but dead though he was he carried me through the . Sun-Dance, you're the whitest hearted Indian pay them back for that sneaking arrow-shot.” e boy rose and shook his fist at the light that told where the Indian tewn was bein blotted from existence. “Sun-Dance was worth your whole sneaking nation!” he shouted. ‘‘ When you shot him you robbed me of the best Indian friend a white ever had. I’ve got another friend, Red Rabbit; but I’ve seen him for the last time, no doubt. I bless the man who fired your red nest - to-night, and I think the day is coming when Dandy Jack will be a thorn in your side. I’m tting used to this wild life. Bistil and old Lige, and I'll feel like astonishing the natives.” Dandy. Jack ceased, and the horse looking around saw him looking tenderly into the scar- f red face of Sun-Dance. It was all over with the young Tlamath; the preston foe the Snake nation ever had was no on Hs part rship with Long Li ership w ng Lige had proved of short duration; but during Fi his bullet fad made the red clan chieftainless, and the last act of his life had been one of unselfish heroism, CHAPTER XVIIL HO! FOR THE COAST! “ListTEN, Dandy Jack! Thar the sound of that horse ag’in! Ef Lige Butler believed in ghosts” ‘You'd swear it was one, eh?” “That's jest what ('ddo. The critter’s stop- ped now. P’raps it is the Injun’s horse what wee up in the night an’ stampeded the cor- ral?’ . “It might be!” admitted Dandy Jack, mus- ingly. ae Lige did not reply, but with his head listening for a repetition had enehai his atten- bent to the west was of the sounds whieh tion. that ever lived, and Tl . tack ow let me find ‘ ee eee a —— i
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4 The two had meton the boundless pains, and were together once more, hunting for the girl whose fate was as yet unknown to them. . They had followed, during several days, the “trail of the stampeded horses, but without mak- ‘ing any discoveries which promised to prove of any benefit. They had even traced the herd back tothe ruined corral, from whence it had flashed southward to be followed no more by the trailers. Luke Whittles and Oregon Leon also kept out of the hunter’s sight; they, too, perhaps, if liv- ing, were hunting for the young girl. night of inky darkness hung over the west yc when the conversation just given passed between Butler and his protege. ‘The sound of hoofs, silent for the moment, had been a cause of much perplexity to the trailers; they had heard them quite near for several nights, in suc- cession, but were unable to discover their import. “Thar oe, £0 agin!” Long Lige ejaculated, after a brief silence. fur they’re comin’ to’ards us at last. Pistol out boy, an’ knife ready, for heaven knows wha kind o’ thing it is.” _ It was true as the long guide said that the un- seen horse was coming toward them. The oun sat motionless on the blankets, At last the hoofs stopped directly before Dandy Jack, and the nostrils of his steed met those of the unseen. The feelings of the boy cannot be described; he seemed to be in the presence of the supernatural, “Bag ther: his “bee he caught the outlines of the horse before him; but he saw more t this. The strange beast had a rider. ‘*Tnjun by hokey!” suddenly ejaculated the guide, and the next moment the unknown horse started back with a snort of terror. At the same time aloud cry rung out upon the night. Rit is Estill!” cried Dandy Jack, and before Butler could reply he darted after the horse, ‘whose course could be distinguished by the pat- ter of his hoofs. _ “‘Injun, more like!” muttered the old guide. “The boy is bound to keep his fingers in the fire, Now Ill have to hunt him ag’in. I guess I'll die anes the young ’uns, in this pesky ken- *Sroanwhile, the boy was flying through the light after the as fe at fast it rode along- ide and seized the rein. With the jerk the strange horse stopped. ** Mercy on me!” he heard a voice exclaim. “¢Tndian or white? tell me which!” ** White it is! and you are Estil!” “ Jack!” There was a cry of joy, and Dandy Jack i that Estil was the rider of the “‘ ghostly” orse. The meeting full of surprise and joy cannot be Aly described p64 e youthful pair had not finished their con- tulations when Long came up, guided y their voices and joined in the happiness of the moment. “The herd left me almost friendless at the river!” Estil said during the narrative of her adventures since her separation from the twain. *¢ But this noble horse stuck to me.” “Tt is Little River. I feel the lazo mark on his neck!” cried Jack. “ still, boy, an’ let our Estil go on.” “He been my companion since that night. I guided him for a while, but he would have his own way in spite of me, and at last I concluded to leave him to his own inclinations, trustin that everything would happen for the best. § have fortunately encountered no one with whom T could exchange words. But yesterday I eame in sight of two men standing face to face on the lains; but before I met theur gaze, I turned the tee and reached the cottonwood along the river.” ' “War they white men?” asked Butler with hev gobbled it I ‘i oa it, boy, they'll not be apt to tech it. _ thought I — have use for it.. The niter glis- at can is the best article of ; Dandy Jack. ‘* Preserved meat?” echoed Estil. “ Thet’s jest what war in the case. Itskeered Luke Whittles an’ the Injuns, Dandy Jack says, Thet’ll be a good joke on the coast.” A light laugh ee “yt over Estil’s lips. Shortly afterward the trio left the spot of the reunion, and pushed southward. ““ Hyar’s ror two men, Estil, gal!” suddenly cried Long Lige reining in his steed quite early one morning before two bodies lying stiff and ghastly among the buffalo grass. ‘Ill bet my gun that they ar’ the larkies what you see’d the other day standin’ face to face. ey’ve had their fight out, each killed the other, jest like the Kilkenny cats.” The Oregon guide sprung from his horse, and knelt over the two bodies. ‘* Jest as I ’spected!” he suddenly cried looking up into the anxious facesregarding him. ‘‘Some- se ; | how or other these two devils came together Now, don’t stir, Jack, | an’ settled their diffikilties with lead an’ steel. | It war an uncommon tussle, for jest look at the ass hyarabouts. Master an’ man hev squar’d their books, an’ left no balance. I’d like to hev stood off an’ seen the scrimmage. First I’d ’a’ cheered one an’ then t’other. e’ll let ’em lie. The Injuns will never git to pay him back for burnin’ their town!” Leaving Oregon Leon and Luke Whittiles side by side on the plain, just as they had fallen in mortal combat, the guide remounted his steed. With a last look at the men who had terror- ized their fellow-creatures in life, the trio rode from the spot. The story of that fatal encounter between the villains will never be told for no human eye witnessed it. Perhaps at night the two had accidentally come together, or if they were the men whom Estil had seen standing face to faee on the Reut of day fought their last fight in the blessed of day. ut be our conjectures as they may, the dis- covery of the bodies told our adventurers that a terrible justice had overtaken the men of crime. The remainder of the journey to the Pacific coast was finished without noteworthy incident, and Estil found herself in her mother’s arms once more. “T reckon you'll stay hyar, boy. Thar bea pair o’ blue eyes in these parts what fairly dance wt Oh, that's all banginati Lige.” at’s nation, " vi Imagination, eh? You've got all the sym’- toms, an’ you’re in more danger hyar than you was in old War-Bow’s village. The oma aa shoot her arrers in the side; they hit higher up. : Spaay Jack blushed and hung his head. Pie you'll stay hyar I guess, boy,” put in ) guide “Yes, sir; he is going to stay!” said a sweet voice, and appeared among the flow vines on the porch. “If he must see Red yack Rabbit again, why, Mr. Butler will go back and er. ae sears boy s inly I'll go!” said Long Lige. “Just ou coax Dandy Jack to stick to the coast, gal. ou’ve caught a po fellar, an’ the other “ will all envy you when they know it. Make promise to : ave paras enty J — pee bs Dek 5 was go e “ Here ends the il,” he said. “‘I’m goin to stick to the coast)? ara “ And to the purtiest gal hyar!” said Lige. THE END. Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. BY MAJOR E. L. ST. VRAIN, 292 Sancho Pedro, the Boy Bandit 5) $01 Leadville Nick, the Boy Sport. 812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince, $38 Brimstone Bob, and His Lightning Horse Quartette. 852 Tombstone Tom, the Arizona Boy of “ Sand.” 859 Durango Dave, the Young Champion Wrestler. 871 Kingbolt Chris, the Young Hard-Shell Detective. | 880 Avalanche Alf, the Foothills Guide. 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountsin Mail-Line, BY FRANK DUMONT, 120 The Branded Hand; or, The Man of Mystery, 127 Wild-Fire, the Boss of the Road. ¥ : Uh 140 Blue Blazes; or, The Break 0’ Day Boys of Rorky Bar, 171 Ebony Dan; or, The Rival Leagues. — r 185 Evil Eye; or, The Vultures of the Rio Grande, % ae BY JO PIERCE. 897 Bob o’ the Bowery ; or, The Prince of Mulberry Street, _ 415 The Vagabond Detective; or, Bowery Bob’s Boom. 452 Hotspur Bob, the Street-Boy Detective. 460 The Lawyer’s Shadow; or, Luke’s Legacy. 472 Jaunty Joe, the Young Horse-King. 494 Surly Sim, the Young Ferryman Detective. BY GEORGE WALDO BROWNS 86 Dandy Rock, the Man from Texas. 90 The Dread Rider ; or, The Texan Duelist, 99 The Tiger of Taos; or, Dandy Rock’s Angel. 115 The Mad Miner; or, Dandy Rock’s Doom. 181 The Golden Hand; or, Dandy Rock to the Rescue, 164 Dandy Rock’s Pledge; or, Hunted to Death. 178 Dandy Rock’s Rival; or, The Haunted Maid of Taoa, BY J, C. COWDRICK, 860 Silver-Mask, the Man of Mystery. 869 Shasta, the Gold King; or, For Seven Years Dead. 4 ——p,—r# [ 4 420 The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without & ame. 424 Cibuta John; or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar, 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude. 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo, 50 Burt Bunker, the Trapper. BY CHARLES E. LASALLE. : 562 The White Buffalo. A Tale of the Northwest. BY JOHN J. MARSHALL. 40 Roving Ben, A Story of a Young American. 97 The Outlaw Brothers; or, The Captive of the Harpege / BY CAPT. MARK WILTON, 256 Young Kentuck ; or, The Red Lasso, 270 Blizzard Ben; or, The Riot at Keno Camp, 286 Josh, the Boy Tenderfoot. BY MAJOR LEWIS W. CARSON. 278 The Three Trappers; or, The Mountuin Monster. 288 Indian Joe; or, The White Spirit of the Hills, BY W. J. HAMILTON, 68 The Red Brotherhood; or, The Twelve Avengers, 66 Single Mand; or, A Life for s Life. 72 Mad Tom Western, the Texan Ranger. 887 Ben Bird, the Cave King; or, Big Pete’s Scoop, BY WILLIAM R. EYSTER, 190 Dandy Darke; or, The Tigers of High Pine. 210 Faro Frank; or, Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Pards, BY ROGER STARBUCK. 25 The Boy Captain; or, The Pirate’s Daughter. 114 The Black Schooner; or, Jib Junk, the Old Tar, 259 The Golden Harpoon ; or, Lost Among the Floes, 848 Fire-Heels; or, Old Skinflint, the Death-Shadow. 854 Big Horn Ike, the Hill Tramp}; or, The Odd Parda, 861 The Phantom Light-house. 870 Breaker Ben, the Reef-Runner, BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER. | 15 The Sea-Cat; or, The Witch of Darien. 29 The Dumb Page; or, The Doge’s Daughter, 48 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. 150 Lance and Lasso; or, The Children of the Chaco, 154 The Sword Hunters; or, The Land of the Elephant Riders, 159 The Lost Captain; or, Skipper Jabez Coffin’s Cruise to the pen Polar Sea. 200 The Boy Bedouins; or, The Brothers of the Plumed Lance, 214 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. 249 Milo Romer, the Animal King; or, The Round the World Wanderer. 265 The Tiger Tamer} or, The League of the Jungle. 881 Black Nick, the Demon Rider, 895 California Joe’s War Trail. BY BRACEBRIDGE HEMYNG, 89 Island Jim; or, The Pet of the Family. 91 The Captain of the Club; or, The Rival Athletes. 101 Jack Harkaway in New York, BY COLONEL DELLE SARA. 108 The Lion of the Sea} or, The Vailed Lady, 186 Cool Desmond; or, The Gambler's Big Game. BY LIEUT. H. D. PERRY, U. 8. N. 176 The Boy Runaway; or, The Buecaneer of the Bays 180 The Sea Trailer; or, A Vow Well Kept. 192 Captain Kit; or, The Mystery of Montauk Point. BY HARRY HAZARD. 888 Arkansaw Jack; or, The Scourge of the Minea. 829 Red-Skin Tom; or, The Demon’s Trail, 842 The Mountain Devil; or, Yellow Jack, the Outlaw, : ‘ ‘ y ' BY COL. A. F. HOLT. 899 Black Buckskin; or, The Masked Men of Death Canyon, 419 Kenneth, the Knife-King. 485 Little Lightfoot, the Pilot of the Woods. A new issue enery Tuesday. V7 The Hali-Dime Library is for sale by al a erry ape «+: 7 ES ES EY 9) ROR m7 en Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail — Publishers, 98 William street, New York, on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE & ADAM
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98 WIL! A \ te the ) circulation. etigu ratt wy ee ¢ Verse ¢ Dre S fer, Ope alcer pe aker, ‘s 300k 0 Book « Book 0! Fortune-' Lovers’ ‘ Ball-roo™ ay Book of Bea ity. ‘ rn ya Fun ny Spe “ . EL sys you ’ Spea ei QT alent a A Uect Speaker | [AG Py, 2 PY ph Mas young, the niearnec. ed valtte. Ww j ) y ; sD P ly de 0 Se ’ sr al i KS amerson’s use ne: cia R { AN l D IIS ore a5 & Re 2mo Se For Sch Pages. 20 cents, h jorge T.—John cB ig e \ a Sa eae 4 EOLA a tert ols, P, ainments and ts En- TL—Mad sn ee than Allen. ‘ ‘Marquis de Lateyett® NO Lae Nalle rf - pani ne. CF f 76 \ BOS RUS i rs Danis fa PL Po AUR, i inal mse AAsrael Putudam pa REPENS TCE ST ogether e Special Code of Rules for Prize Skating pagrion 3 eee and Records of alin i meueel fine} Pe os on the Ice. Edited by Henry Chadwick. st : ee BES EIT RPE RUNES IT SR OR pa ae Sen BRD eo RTA ee . « sepsis Ra OBR APN SE SE fe = So er SS oe Rea iS » é