Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 1162) (1905 06)
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NEW YORK a , CA r : i WOO A WA, 8 sah fi LARAMIE JOE'S PORES PAROS oe BY OLL COOMES, AUTHOR OF ‘BABY SAM,” ‘‘ WHIP-KING JOE,” “LITTLE BUCKSKIN,” ETC:, ETC. CHAPTER L THE MYSTERIOUS MURDER. THE summer sun h bove the distan’ ¥ Ls mountain peaks, and ee the Hetle mining-camp of Last Lick were discussi “ya OLD TOM RATTLER—” “THER RED RIVER EPIDEMIC?” BROKE IN THE TALL MAN,
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2 Last Lick was situated in one of the most wild, rugged and picturesque canyons of the moun- tains of northern Colorado. The bluffs sloping away gradually on the north, were clad in pine and cedar, whose foliage caught the sunlight and, like a great mirror reflected it in dazzling splendor against the dark frowning cliffs that hung over the camp on thesouth. Eastward the view was abruptly shut off by the hills, but westward up the canyon the distant mountain ranges could be dimly seen rising specter-like out of the blue haze and mist of heaven. Last Lick was a mining-camp in every sense of the word, and since the outputs of minerals had been exceedingly rich, the place soon gained a local reputation that drew from other campsa class of men the place would have been much better, off without. Gamblers and bummers flocked in from far and near, Cowboys from the Laramie Plaius, also, came down occasionally and made merry with the miners and roughs and free with their revolvers to such an extent that the departure of those who lived through the ‘‘ mellow round-up,” as they were wont to term en was hailed with a feeling of great relief, But it was seldom in the glare of the sunlight that a pistol-shot, or an angry, disturbing voice was heard. Crime and drunkenness sought the deepest shadows of night in Last Lick, for there was a Vigilance Committee in the camp noted for its promptness of action in all cases. that .re- quired their attention, and when, on that sum- mer eve, that wail of agony rung through the camp while yet the sky was ablaze with radiant sunbeams, every man that heard it started with a shudder and involuntarily grasped the weapon at his hip. Their first thoughts were of Indians, for ther> had been rumors of threatened troubles from this source, and this fear grew almost intoa panic when, a few minutes later, the newsspread through the camp that Judge Benoni Randall lay dying from a cruel wound inflicted by a barbed arrow that had been shot from a strong bow wielded by a strong and skillful arm! ; The judge was unconscious when found, and before his daughter, a fair, sweet girl of seven- teen, could reach his side he was dead, And his death became enshrouded in mystery, fora care- ful search of the surrounding country convinced all that not a red-skin was within fifty miles of the place. That the judge was the victim of the murder- ous hand of a white man, who had chosen the bow and arrow with which to do the deed be- cause it could be wielded in silence, there was but little doubt, and so a v gorous and thorough search for the assassin was at once made, lt was not known that Judge Randall-had an ememy in camp. He was one of those upright exemplary men whom all, bigh and low, love and admired. He was honest,cind and intelli- ent, and was looked upon in Last Lick as its eading citizen. He was a widower with one child, Zulima, a fair and lovely girl whom all idolized for her gentleness and kindness of heart and as the miners gathered about the prostrate form of the dead man, and heard the heartrend- ing eries of this poor orphaned girl, their hearts were touched with the deepest sympathy and from many an eye was brushed a tear. And the sun, as if with shame, bid his red face behind the distant mountain range, and then the shadows of night began to gather in the valley as the shadows of sorrow had gathered in the breasts of the miners. The body of the murdered man wes removed to his cabin and an inquest held. On the day following it was consigned to the grave in the valley under the murmuring pines. Poor Zulima was now alone so far as relatives in the camp was concerned, but she was not without friends, Wild and wicked as the camp was, every man and woman was eager and anx- ious to do something for her. And there were several pure and noble women there, whose sis- terly and motherly love did much to lighten her burden of sorrow, However, Zulima would have left the camp, and sought relatives in the East, had it not been that her father’s claim was one of the best - ing in the place, and that two or three of her father’s friends volunteered to superintend her interest in the mine, and defend her honor so long as she should remain. . Being a brave and sensible girl, and now wholly dependent upon herself for a livelihood, she took up her cross with all the determination and fortitude of a Christian woman. In Sybil Bell, daughter of Major Robert Bell, who came to Last Lick after the déath of Judge Randall, Zulima found a warm friend and com- yanion. Sybil was a young lady of two-and- $$ Old Tom Rattler, having recently come from the States. He was a stupid, sleepy-looking boy, who scarcely twenty, perhaps. She was a dark-eyed, be- witching little beauty, with an imperious bear- ing and a strange fascination shining from the depths of her wonderful eyes. She and Zulima met the day that she and her father came to the camp, anda mutual] attrac- tion seemed to spring up between them. Zulima invited her to her home, and the result of the intimacy was that the major and his queenly daughter found themselves installed in tle Kan- dall cabin with Zulima and her old servant, Tom Redrow, and his wife Deborah, where they were to remain until Mr. Bell could erect a home of his own, In the mean time energetic efforts were being made to hunt down the murderer of Judge Ran- dall, _ So effectually had the assassin covered up his tracks that there were some who thought it possible that the judge had suicided, but this idea was soon dismissed when it was shown that it was utterly impossible for the judge to have se by his own hand in the manner that he did. After the Vigilantes had given up the search, the case was given into the hands of scouts and detectives, and, stimulated by the promise of a large reward, they worked as men never worked before, but all without avail. So finally the case was given up as one of those unfathomable Donors that only the dey of judgment could reveal, CHAPTER II, REV. PAUL POSTLE. MontTHS have passed since the mysterious death of Judge Randall, Evidently the search for the assassin had long since been discontinued, albeit there was a stand- ing reward forthe apprehension of the villain; but the people, busy as they were, and varied as were the changes and excitements of the camp, had not forgotten the dead man, nor did they neglect the comfort of his child. In the mean time, Major Robert Bell had been a father, friend and counselor to Zulima, and in fact had, in a measure, filled the place that Judge Randall bad occupied in the hearts of the miners. His daughter Sybil had been a sister and companion toe the orphaned girl and partook largely of her father’s popularity. Up to this time the spiritual welfare of Last Lick had been almost wholly neglected. It is true, a minister of the Gospel, who had sought the mountain air for his health, had visited the camp some months before, and seeing tbe field unoccupied, endeavored to.organize a meeting, but his efforts proved an ignominious failure, simply because the roughs of the place attended ina petty and broke up the meeting, while the better elements of the camp were too busy to give attention to matters of so little importance to the place that they did not expect to make their home permanently. But one day there came a second minister to the camp, or rather a gentleman who registe at the hotel as Rev. Paul Postle, and who soon gave out the word that he had come there to organize a religious meeting. This news proved very unwelcome to the gamblers and bummers, aud resulted in their promptly calling a meeting to take action in the matter, and devise ways and means by which the Apostle Paul, as they had quickly transposed his name, should be sup- pressed, for they were “‘old-timers,” and knew that a religious excitement in a mining-camp— an exceptional thing, indeed—was sure death to their business, The result of the meeting was the appoint- ment of Cale Bunce, Grizzly Dave and Sonora Steve—the latter a half-breed Mexican—as a committee to wait on the reverend gentleman and notify him that h’s room was far more pre- ferable than his presence, and escort him beyond the confines of the camp and admonish him not to return under penalty of death, These three men were bullies and desperadoes who, their friends knew, would have no conscientious ph oa about making away with the preacher, or the way they did it. : That afternoon when most of the miners were at work and all was quiet in camp, the trio called at the hotel where the preacher was Poe. ping. The place wes kept by afatand jolly old German named Luke Freiner, who, in con- nection with the house, kept a bar where oné or two kinds of liquors of uncertain quality were sold. The ‘* Pick-and-Shovel,” as the pro- prietor had facetiously named his house, was the only hotel in the camp, hence the preacher had no choice of lodging-places. Besides the proprietor, but a single nm was ih the bar-room when the three bullles en- tered. ‘This person was a.youth of eighteen years, His dress was evidence of h glanced at the trio when they entered. ‘‘ How you does, shentelmén?”’ said Freiner, stepping bebind the bar to wait on his supposed customers. ; eo the same.old way,” was Grizzly Dave’s reply. Wel, what you takes, eh?” asked the land- ord, “Greek fire, if you’ve nothin’ stouter,” was the reply. “¢ Greek fire””—a local name for bad. whisky— was set out, and the three helped themselves. ‘“Who’s that kid you’ve got there, Luke? asked Cale Bunce, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the sleepy-looking boy. ‘“His name is Albert Joslin—he ish a tender- feet poy what runs away and cooms Vest tc grow mit de country up.’ ‘‘He’s been readin’ some o’ them ’are bad story papers and’s come out here to be a hero, and kill road-agents and Ingins, and have a big bum o’a time. But ther West don’t have to import its heroes—they grow here, eh, Grizzly Dave? But I say, Sour-krout, that boy’s dread- ful-homesick. You can tell that by the Jop o” his lip. Say, boy, be you sleepy?” ““ Naw, I’m not,” drawled the boy, sullenly. “Won't ye have somethin’ to drink? Come up and take a glass o’ water, anyhow, can’t re? ? “Don’t want no water,” was the boy’s reply. ““T say, Cale,” said Grizzly Dave, aside, ‘* that ‘are boy’s not so green and sleepy as he might be fu’st thing ye know,” *¢ 1] look furder bout that, after while,” re- plied Bunce, then turning to Freiner, continued : ‘Dutch, J understand you've got a new lodges —come yesterday?” ‘Yaw; a pray-mans, yesterday.” ‘“‘ Where is he now?” asked Sonora Steve. ‘In his room—he sthays there much time--- read he Pible me ’sphecks.” “Will you tell him to step out here?’ seid Grizzly. ‘‘ Tell him that three gentlemer wauts to interview bim.” “ Shentlemens,” repeated Luko with a grin ‘*vaw, I tells him dot,” and he waddled off aud soon returned accompanied by the preacher. At sight of the stranger the three roughs €x changed glances and then broke into a loud, coarse laugh. But this conduct did not discon cert the parson atall, and advancing he boweé politely to the three men, saying: ‘“My host informs me three gentlemen wisk to see Paul’ Postle. I am that man.” The preacher was, most decidedly, an odd- looking person. He was apparently fifty years of age. He was tall and angular with a thin, bony face sparsely covered with gray whiskers. His long, thin hair was thrown back behind his ears in a “reverential” way. His mouth was rather large and wreathed in a serio-comica) expression that suggested the clown rather than the. preacher. He was clad in a suit of well-worn and shiny broadcloth that fit him -like the pro- verbial * shirt on a bean-pole.” In fact, in most He coom day ’gainst respects, he hed the meek and quiet air cf a minister of the gospel, but there was a lack of grace and symmetry in his form, and a kind of sublime slouchiness in his dress that provoked the mouse into laughter. ‘“Wal, Preacher Postle,” said Grizzly Dave im reply to Postle’s introductory remarks, “ lm known in this camp as Grizzly Dave; that coyote is Cale Bunce, and that yaller-belly is Sonora Steve.” “ Very odd names, I declare,” said the parson, “but suggestive I presume. bm glad to make your pee gentlemen.” “‘Mebby as what you'll have some Greek fire with us, parson,” said Grizzly, ‘* Some what, sir?” “‘ Greek fire—suthin’ to cut the cobwebs outen your throat—do you catch on?’ : “| think I do,” said Postle;.‘‘ no, thank you. I never indulge in liquor, gentlemen, My cal} ing forbids it.” ? “ Oh, that’s what they all say.” replied Dave, “ but the custom o’ this camp requires that new comers drink to the health o’ the place, and that custom can’t nor sha’n’t be violated.” ‘7 ean freely drink to the health o the camp in a glass of water—pure, sweet, sparkling water—God’s beverage—distilled in the Gews o the heaven,” replied the preacher. “ Water—wat¢r,” repeated Dave, refiectively , then turning to Freiner, asked: “ Sour-mash, do you keep that brand o’ drinks?” ‘*Yaw—to wash my glasses‘in. . , ’ M4 ° 5 ee ~~ Ee
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“Oh, git along with yer monkeyin’! Set up four glasses 0’ reg’ler old Greek, with hemlock and ratsbane for flavor,” exclaimed Grizzly, “and the parson will drink with us!” This was said in a tone calculated to forestall any further refusal; but fixing his little eyes on a rough, the parson said slowly, deliber- oy tell you, sir, I don't drink!” For a moment the gamblers were silenced. There was a firmness in the man’s tone and a resolute look in his eyes that convinced the rougls that he had the courage and nerve to back his principles of sobriety. However, all they wanted was to pick a quarrel with the parson,-and as they were three to one, they made up their minds that they would compel the parson to drink or take the consequences. **Look here, ole gospel-mill,” Grizzly Dave finally said, ‘‘ you needn’t go to buckin’ us and showin’ your ’ligious intolerance, You jist got to show your respects for Last Lick and her cit- erzens in the true old way by drinking a loud, long bumper with we three, There’s yer liquor —take it like a man and don’t foolish with Grizzly Dave! This ole Limberger here can tell ree that P'm a bad, wild man from away over— 1¢’s see’d me chaw up men right in this room for refusin® to ‘reconcile’ with me. Now here, par- son, hear me=-take hold, or Pll take yer by the ears and fetch yer to the trough a-prancin’!” “Stand back!” said Postle, receding a step, his face still wearing a cool, calm and resolute look, Grizzly Dave saw he had an ugly customer, but he had gone too far now to back down; so he advanced to Postle’s side and reached up to take hini by the ear. But that act seemed a sighal for a hidden thunderbolt, so it seemed to Grizzly Dave, to let drive into his very face, and the next thing the gambler was aware of was of rising to his feet in a dazed sort of a way at the other end of the room. “What done that?—what hit me?” he asked, looking around him in bewilderment, the blood pouring from his nostrils. : “‘ Dot preacber-mans,” said old Luke, his red face aglow with inward delight; “‘he ish der Pilly Batterson what struck you—yaw, he ish der mans.” Sonora Steve and Cale Bunce were, to say the least, startled by this unexpected aggressive movement of the parson, who at once whirled, facing them, as if expecting they would attack him, TRe Mexican was the first to recover his pres- ence of mind, and then, true to his treacherous nature, he stooped and drawing a knife from his boot-leg, made a dart at the parson. But the latter was on the alert and before the villain could strike he planted his foot in the fellow’s stomach and sent him, doubled up like a jack- knife, clear over the counter into the corner, At the same moment almost Postle gave Cale Bunce a scientific left-hander on the jaw that sent that worthy flying through the open door out into the street. Albert Joslin, the sleepy-looking young ten- derfoot seated on the opposite side of the build- ing, regarded the scene with a faint smile on his boyish face and a peculiar twinkle in his blue eyes, Tn the mean time Grizzly Dave, the-bad-man- from-away-over, had regained his feet and was fumbling at his hip, where hung a six-shooter. But the parson was on the alert. He seemed to fully understand the situation and the kind of men he had to deal with, and in a twinkling— with the celerity of one accustomed to quick work—he had the rough covered with a der- ringer. iF Don’t dare me further, Grizzly Dave,” he This was enough. Grizzly Dave saw that he had met more than his match and was beaten. His hand swung around to its natural position empty. ve ‘A muttered curse was upon his lips, Luke Freiner had enjoyed the punishment of the desperadoes with inward delight, but when he saw the grizzly man-ecater vanquished he laughed outeieht and said; } | “Py shimminy kraut, David, you sthumps your toe, hey? You rhuns.’g’inst a a preacher- mans what can fight like der tuyfil and pray like a saint. Grizzly Davy, I guess what dis shentlemans coom to Last Licks to sthay, hey? What you t’inks ’pout mush and milk when you halefs.a sphoon; hey?” “Wal, g1dang it,” said Grizzly Dave, his whole demeanor changed from that of a bully toa peaceful man, ‘“‘ye needn’t make fun o’ a man’s misfortune. I’m no hog—I know when Tye enuff o’ anything. -Say, parson, put down ee Ry es ee ee — a — Old Tom Rattler. that. pistol and Ill call our account square. You're an ole singed cat, you be, parson, I guess you've see’d service in a minin’-camp afore—TI can tell. by the way you strike, and the heavenly ease with which you swing a shooter into position. A man like you, parson, can have the eternal friendship o’ Grizzly Daye, You’re no-milksop 0’ a “preacher, and [ say -now that the fu’st meetin’ you hold I want to set right under the drip o’ the sanctuary. I’m converted en and, stranger, if ye have spilled some o’ my blood ‘you ean figger on me as backin’ you hereafter. Ill confess that you've been too nu- merous for me, but you're the fu’st gol-danged rooster that ever give re the spur. But say, did yer bu’st Sonora Steve? He don’t seem to materialize from behind that box.” ** Te coom ’round soon he sthraighten out der kinks out ob hesselef,” said the landlord. The Mexican heard these remarks and they seemed to exasperate him beyond control of himself, and, grasping his knife, he glided, ina crouching position, from behind the counter, and endeavored to plunge the knife into Postle’s back, and he would have succeeded but for the rompt action of Albert Joslin, the sleepy-look- ing boy, who, like a young panther, sprung across the room and hurled the treacherous little Mexican into a corner ten feet away. ‘Great Cott in Himmel!” exclaimed old Luke, ‘what now preaks loose ’round here? Py shim- miny krout! more cats mit der hair cooked off dem, hey?” Sonora Steve, half rising, looked around him in a sort. of confusion, His eyes met those of the young tenderfoot, who stood erect, his hith- erto sleepy eyes fixed upon him with a look like that of a young tiger. A. low, muttered curse was hissed from the Mexican’s lips, The boy snarled at the outlaw and showed his teeth in a way that provoked old Luke to a fit of silent laughter. The Mexican rose to his feet antl grasped his knife as if preparing to leap upon the boy, The youth shook his right arm—a revolver slipped from his big-coat-sleeve and was caught in-his hand with the skill of a juggler. Then, as he raised the weapon on a line with the Mexi- can’s breast, he said: ““Try it, if you dare,” The Mexican made no reply, but turned and left the room, vanquished for the time, but no doubt ag swearing vengeance against the preacher and the tenderfoot youth, «As the Mexican went out a 11ew-comer entered the hotel and asked: * Tuke, what's the matter with Cale Bunce? He’s leaning against the house out here in great agony—acts as if he’d the lock-jaw.” ‘*He gits his jaw smacked—dot preachér-mans he lets ’imself loose and flings his fists ?pout like tamnition and he knock der poys golly vestward. Mister Major Bell, dot mans there pees der preacher, Paul Postile.” , ‘“*Mr. Postle,” said Major Bell, for he the new- comer was, extending his hand, “‘I am glad to make your acquaintance, and, welcome you to Last Lick.” “Thank you, major,” said Postle, lookin straight into’ Bell’s eyes with a searching loo that almost made the-major wince, ‘‘I hope I shall prove myself worthy of your confidence.” Major Bell was a man of forty-five years, with a fine physique, a full beard, a dark, brown eye, and withal a man of pleasant address and pre- possessing appearance. “Major,” said Grizzly Dave, mopping the blood from his face, ‘‘ ’m acquainted with ther *Postle Paul, too—we met a while ago; he shook hands with me, but I’ll be well in a day or two, if pangrene don’t set in.” ‘From looks of things there’s been a cyclone ‘round here,” observed the major. ‘Yaw, dot preacher mans is ther critter—he do oop der cyclone pizness gallantly, but, hullo! what dot outfeet what coom there, hey? The ‘‘ outfit” referred to was two horsemen that had drawn rein and dismounted in front of the Pick-and-Shovel. One of them was a tall man dressed in the suit of a Westerner, and well armed. The other was a little, nervous sort of . man with a decidedly foreign appearance and ress, The latter entered the hotel to inquire about lodging, and as soon as he spoke Luke “Kreiner discovered that he was a Frenchman. He gaye his name as Jules Laclede, and his profession as that of an artist. He said he was making a tour of the great West on horseback sketching ‘‘ ze grand mountain scenery,” and called attention to his two pack-horses that were well loaded with his business outfit. He wasan eccentric, fussy little chap of perhaps thirty years of age, = a a ————$—=————— speaking English imperfectly; but he had not been in the hotel long before those present had made up their minds that there was a method in his eccentricities, CHAPTER III. STARTLING TRAGEDY, ON the morning following the arrival of Jules Laclede at Last Lick, the miners on their way to work stopped in front of the ‘* Pick-and-Shoy- el” and looked with admiration upon a splendid crayon picture of Major Robert Bell that hung against the outside of the building. The picture ; had been drawn by Laclede with chalk Eres a heavy black canvas, it had been hasti fairly executed and was given as a sample of the artist’s skill which received ‘no little commenda- tion. Under the picture was written in plain characters that all could read, the following: “ Nottce.—To-night I will give at the Pick-and- Shovel an exhibition of my skillin sketching moun- tain scenery and comic cartoons, etc., etc. Every- body invited. Admission free. *“JuLtes Laciepg, Artist.” And everybody that read the notice resolved toattend. Even the gamblers and old bummers resolved to go in foree and give one evening toa change of life in camp, Freiner’s hotel was rather a commodious house, It was divided into three apartments—a bar, dining-room and kitchen. Each one was separ- ated from the other by a curtain, so that by ysushing these partitions aside the building could bs thrown into one room. And this old Luke did as evening approached, and seats improvised of kegs, chairs, boxes and planks were arranged in the room, The artist arranged his canvas at one end of the room, It was a heavy slate-colored canvas stretched upon au adjustable frame four by six feet in size. By dark the whole population of Last Lick, except the few women in the camp, had gathered in the Pick-and-Shovel. Conspicuous in the crowd was the tall form of Paul Postle who had gained no little notoriety in camp by the punishment of Grizzly Dave and his two friends ‘the day before. Sonora Steve was also there, and his little snakish eyes search- ed the face of every individual there’as if look- ing for some certain one, And he was; but that one, Albert Joslin, the sleepy-looking tenderfoot, was not there. He had left the camp that morn- ing for parts unknown, a due course of time Jules Laclede appeared before the audience, bowed low with the charac- teristic politeness of a Frenchman, then turning, crayon in hand, began his work. With the ra- pidity of lightning his hand flashed over the canvas black-board, Lines and curves, light and heavy, grew rapidly into a cobweb confusion; but out of this tangled mesh there soon appeared a splendid view of the mountain scenery lookin westward from camp. It required no stretch o imagination to recognize it and the audience ap- plauded the artist’s first scene long and loud, Laclede acknowledged the compliment with a smile and a polite bow; then he picked up an eraser and with a few strokes swept the picture f om the canvas and, with a wave of his hand to the audience, again went to work, Swiftly and deftly his hand flew up and down and over the canvas, The figure of a man of Fallstaffian proportions, and one talland angular grew into form with marvelous rapidity. The fat man was represented as standing at a bar holding in his hand a mug of foaming beer, while on the other side stood the lean man read- ing a book, The features of the two men were the very last to receive the attention of the artist, and when the finishing touches had bevn put upon the faces, the audience broke inte an uproarious applause, for, in the fat man all recognized the rotund face of Luke Freiner, and, in the other, the ungainly form’and homely face . of Rev. Paul Postle. ; The two subjects of the cartoon enjoyed the fun with the audience, and it was several min+ utes before quiet could be restored, Then the artist swept the figures off the board and began work on other subjects. » Two men an Irishman and a Chinaman, were represented ata game of cards, the game being shown at different stages by erasures and additions, endigg with the Chinaman in the act of stealing a a fromthe deck while Pat was in the act of ow a y yet a drink of whisky. _This cartoon was follow by a view of mountain scenery, a negro onia | bucking broncho, and a love scene between a °* young oe me and an old white hunter—each and all of which brought down_the house, Brushing off the board the artist glanced over the audieuce and then with a bow and wave of
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a the hand turned and began another ‘subject. His movements were not so rapid as before and his lines and curves more delicate and graceful. It soon became apparent that he was drawing the head and bust of a female and there was no little curiosity and speculation as to the out- gome. Some of the old gamblers, through force “of habit, offered to bet on the result, but found no teters. The artist. worked away, leaving the face un- til tho jast; then, when he turned a attention to that part of tho picture, and the features of the subject assumed an expression of familiarity under the magic touches of the workman, a dee an‘ profound silence fell upon the audience. It was some minutes before the tinishing touches wers put on tne picture, and the artist stood aside for its inspection, a smile of triumph and sat‘sfaction upon his. face. The picture was that of Zulima Randall, the cherished idol of the eam, The audience broke into an applause that was long and continwous, lt was not a wild, bois- terous applause, but one full of the spirit of re- spect and admiration—such as would have been -iven to the maiden herself had she appeared before them, f When therefinally came a lull in the excite- ment, an oll miner sprung to his feet and shouted: ‘*Mister Artist, if you'll freeze that are pic- ter there so’s it won't rub off, TU give you tea ounces 0’ gold for it,” “That iz impozzeeble, monsieur,” Laclede re- plied, with separ regret. _, ss Wal, it’s too gol-ali-fired bad,” added the miner, resuming his seat; ‘“‘it looks like a “waste t»rub that picter out.” After the audience had gazed. upon the pic- turs of the maiden for several minutes, the urt- ist erased it, and then turning to the audience, said: “ “Gonteelmen, ze Reverend Paul Postle will say to you,” 13 stepped aside, and the Reverend Paul Postle advanced to tho platform, and bowing, sail: / MeeRiTomen, the artist, Mr. Laclede, who bpeaks English so imperfectly, has requested me to say a fow words to you in relation to another am only te roma g for Mr, Laclede, and by his ~ request, ow, ) vO/¥ }in mystery and confusion, 1 re/er to the “row that he proposes to. produce the face of the yd never saw t Sn now to you somethings say more better’as I can | he came here and heard of the tragedy, he went tet: into a sleep or trance, and while in this state, ied; saw Judge Rindall. In fact, he is so positive | tol , y % : to say. ¢ saa _ A general murm one. end of +... the ro.m to the pi he Pm ag of the au- w ‘ : _of excitement. The artisy had dis layed such. Old Tom Rattler. as before, he drew the outlines of the head, and then stopped work, closing his eyes as if in deep reflection. He passed his hand over his brow, and finally with a start operen his eyes and re- sumed his work; and before he had finished the picture, exelamations of surprise from the lips of those nearest to the canvas were heard, and finally, a wild burst of surprise and wonder rung through the whole house. The face of Judge Randall was there before them as natur- al as had been the face of Zulima. ‘‘That’s the judge!” ‘That’s him!” “A rfect picter!” were some of the exClamations eard mingled with others bordering on super- stitious belief, ; Some one at a window outside made the re- mark loud enough to be heard inside that he was satisfied, a would bet that Laclece had seen Randall before his Meath and was familiar with his looks, But this assertion had _ no effect on the audience, for so completely had Laclede won the admiration of all that their confidence in him could not be shaken by aspersions. After the audience had taken a good look at the judge’s picare, the artist erased some parts of it and ad new lines that changed the atti- ~tude of the body and the features to those of a man in great agony. He also added the pictura of the shaft of an arrow protruding from the man’s breast. : A low cry of horror ran through the crowd at sight of this picture, and expressions of in- dignation, and even low curses were heard all around the room, a While the audience were gazing upon the pic- ture of Randall in the throes of dea h, the art- ist began work oa another near the center of the canvas, first, he roughly drew a clump of bushes, and then further along be drew the fig- ure of another man, holding in his band a bow and arrow. But this figure ho left headless, ‘and turning to the crowd he said: “Gentlemen, ze preacher say more *bout ze tragedy.” | Postle, who still stood near the artist, said: ‘““Gentlemen—men of Last Lick, now comes the climax—the most wonderful of this terrible tragedy, and the full test of this artist’s myste- rious and supernatural powers, I am told the most skillful detectives bave heen unable to track down the murderer of Judge Randall even though you have offered a large rewar for his apprehension. Now, then, this remark- able man claims that he has seen the face of that murderer ina trance as plainly as he saw the face of his victim. You now w rome- hing of his mysterions power. He produced the face of Judge Randall on the canvas, so you all have admitted; and, gentlemen, he will now undertake to produce on canvas the face of the murderer 0. if your friend Randall !” As Postle conclude | Laclede advanced, and with evident nervousness, bowed to his audi- to you he | ence. Then, crayon mm band, h« turned and ad- vanced to the canvas. - The.preacher still remained stancing, his right hand at his back and his eyes flashing keenly over the crowd as if he expected to read in the coun tonaite of some one there evidence of ilt. ¥ wT acl raised his hand to begin the promised elt ptm pot ag pa mystery that had ever exed the minds of a community; but before he had made a single stroke a istol flashed in one of the open windows, and the hand of the artist fell at his side and a ery of pain burst from his lips! At tho same instant almost—before a man in | the house conld move—before the sound of the pistol had scarcely crossed the room, the lon arm of the Reverend Paul Postle was thrus ringer in his hand rung out with a_ spiteful crack, and a cry of agony arose on the night outside of the window! . oe CHAPTER IV. ' WHO WAS PAUL POSTLE? Frve seconds after the report of Postle’s pis- ol the Pick-and-Shovel was the scene of wild, mad confusion, A perfect panicensued. Seats were overturned; men were knocked down and lights were overturned and put out, and the Ps mob fought and crowded its way in ence how aith they bad in his clairvoyant : . Ise powers—they felt he merited their ctful| The yells, curses, and threats of the trampled st ba gs % a men, the crash of doors and windows, and the Rev, Pant Postle nding on the | bang and rattle of chairs and boxes were deaf- | artist's right, facing hag pment eyes | ening. It was several minutes before the house tbe art drew the life-sised figure of a | ceeded to take Ba Pot anata yah 2 4 > ras Q we . he A : ua 4 _ . an inven OSSES, u i him ina tiner’ garb. ‘Then, | te five thing be noticed was Jules Laclede, ‘out above the heads of the audience—a der- trampled upon; and to add to the confusion the ‘same strain; but finally Ralp pletives and slang was. mexhaustible. But this en a see who wascoming toward him holding in his left hand his right arm, which bad been dreadfully lacerated by the bullet of his would-be as- sassin. Outside, under the open window, a man lay prone upom.the earth in dying agony—the vic- tim of the parson’s derringer. ss Bring a light! bring a light, quick!” shouted a voice; ‘*somebody’s in a bad fix out bere!” A lamp was carried to the window. Its light streamed out upon the prostrate form of the man, A cry of surprise and horror burst from the lips of those standing around at the start- ling discovery they, made. The man that lay welteriag in his life-blood, that welled from a bullet-hole in the head, was Mujor Robert Bell ! And the hand of Rev. Paul Postle had done the deed, Cries of vengeance rose on the night, Major Bell was carried into the hotel and placed on a cot, and the doctor summoned, Two miners, Casper Jones and Sandy Farrall, were sent to bring the major’s daughter, Sybil, and her friend, Zulima Randall, to the ide of the wounded man. The doctor found the major unconscious. ‘‘There’s but one chance in a thousand for ~~ him,” he said, after he bad made an examina- tion of his wounds. “This added new fuel to the flame that was already burning in the breasts of the excited miners. “ Where is the preacher? Where is the mu derer?” was asked on all sides, . But no one answered, for no one knew. Rev. Paul Postle had disappeared; but like blooa- hounds the excited miners went plunging through the camp in search of him, To still add to the excitement of the hour, Jones and Farrall came running back to the hotel, almost breathless, with the startling in- telligence that bcth Sybil Bell and Zulima Ran- dall were not to be found, From old Aunt Deborah, Zulima’s rervant, who had just recoy- ered consciousness from a blow on the bead when they reached the house, they learned that four masked men had come here shortly after Major Bell bad started to the entertainment, and seized, bound, and gagged the. girls, and upon her—Deborah’s—attempt to call for help, one of the villains had knocked her senseless, That the girls had been carried away into the moun- pains Py. those four ontlaws there was not a oubt, The news almost paralyzed those that first heard it. ; The Vigilantes met at once in their room to take action in the cases that had so suddenl ple themselves to their consideration. — The entire committee, with the exception of pesrnaye sn im one of their best men, was pres- en’ ; ,. A_warin discussion over the tragic events at the eiene Sone and the abduction of Sybil and Zulirha ensued, = ne Finally one member declared t! at-he believed that the events of that night were the culmin- ating acts in a foul conspiracy which -had bad . its beginning in the murder of Judge Randall. © “This, then—” began another member, but he was Spiesrunted by the argh seidhe the door with ‘the announcement that absent_mem-. ber, Ralph Hatton, bad arrived. Mr. Hatton was admitted, and when seated, the speaker continued: “‘ As I was going to say, Judson’s as- sertion would, if true, involve Rev. Paul Postle and that artist in the conspiracy, and the sud- den disappearance of the parson convinces me that his decuctions are about right.” Be, Several other members spoke im about the atton dress ~ and said: a “Brothers, I have listened in silence since I came in, to your theories of to-night’s tragic © events in this camp, and I am prepared to say that you are all, in a measure, wrong as to the part Rev. Paul Postle is playing. the me I first met the preacher here in Last Lick I thought I knew him, or, at least, had seen him before; and after refreshing my memory I con- cluded I had seen him some yearsagoin Pueblo, —_ In fact, I would have had no doubt of it hadit — not been for his language. The old fellow that Pot ee I a Fa Matin pe ae ee of Rong Pa ky English language lever met. He neverspoke a except in the most outlandish witiow thoroughly Western v and [then — made up my mind that he was one of those il- - hterate old mountameers whose stock of ex-. = cal and ostle has used man Postle very fair | e, th ay in his talk to-night at the Pic eer Tieiey ere, used a few words that led me to suspect that my Pueblo acquaintance was before: me dix vie Oe A ia a. EES So
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tt guised as Paul Postle. And, brothers, my sus- picions proved correct.” member. “Who is Paul Postle?” asked an impatient | Old Tom Rattler. ! and his couch was ready. He laid down, ra | his saddle for a pillow. Aft hisright side he lai a revolver, at his left his carbine, With no disturbing thoughts nor sounds— “Pm coming. to that,” continued Hatton. ' with a free heart and clear conscience—with “After the panic in the hotel to-night Iran an abiding faith in the protection of Divine | “are you goin’ against Postle in the dark outside, and I took | Providence, he la the bull by the horns. and called him by what I lieved lis true name to be. *“*Hullo? was his reply. ‘I b’lieve your name’s Hatton, are it not? _“) answered that it was, and he then asked | me to step aside with him—he wanted to speak ! with me, While we weretalking in the shadows | we overheard the news of Sybil and Zulima’s . abduc.ion, The old man was startled by the re- | port, and saii he must leave at once and en- | deavor to heal off the girls’ abductors, who he felt sure would go northward. He said ho had a friend concealed in the mountains near; and that he would be back here as soon as possible. He begged me to permit no violence to Jules Laclede, for the man was as innocent of wrong _ as a, child unborz. He knew of the feelin azuinst himself for the shooting of Bell, but sai he'd exbisin tuat when be returned.” ‘‘ Well, who the thunder is Paul Postle, any- how?” asked a member, impaticutly. r “Paul Postlois the noted old mountain de- ee ~~ tective, Kit Bandy.” ae CHAPTER V. LARAMIE JOE, TE BOY KNIGHT. Tue scene of our story changes, It is night on the Laramie Plains. . A horseman headed northward across the great expanse moved along at a slow, swinging gallop under the mellow moonlight. He was a oung man—in fact a boy yet in his teens, but possessed a fine, robust physique, and a pleas- ant, handsome face that was flushed with health and the exuberance, of a wild, free spirit, He was dressed in the garb of a ranchero, and was armed with a pair of revolvers : nd a Winches- ter carbine, @ was mounted upon an easy- going. clean-limbed horse, that~vas well-capari- sone with bridle and silver-bespangled Mexican sad.lle. A roll of blankets was strapped to the saddle behind, an] on one side of the pommel in front.) - hung a leather pouch and on t larint. io . f That this youth was familiar with this great: plain and all its bewildering intricacies was evi- to t from the fact of his moving along he sochfite to guide him save his instinctive knowl sdge of his course. + a. : _ Laramie Joe, the Boy Knight of the Plains, _for be this youth ay was, was at home, in- deed, on the Laramie Plains, day or night; and more than all others—rangers, scouts and rancheros—was he known and feared. To the . outlaws and ‘Indians whose fastnesses. were Ee cadet cuiaten. kad waka mea sa nd cattle-thieves, had_he t e a ter- ror, . For his perfect knowledge of the topogr of the country, bis skill as a trailer, his domitable pluck and La Dy his manliness of bearing and uncompromising honor had he - been chosen over scores of others, and older men at that, as chief scout for the association of cattle-men throughout that country, This made him a kind of an independent ranger, but - so great and constant were his duties that he was kept in the saddle almost day and night, - If ever he did leave the plain for a weck or a single day it was in the interest of his employ- -.~ers; Antrit-wee this interest that took him, a few days before we introduce him to the reader, far southward to the mining-camp of Last Lick. _ He had. gone there in search of a couple of horse-thieves. He had gone in disguise, and - there were few who had seen Alvert Joslin, the boy tenderfoot, at the Pick-and-Shovel, that ould have believed that he and the dashing Laramie Joe were one and the same aa gee - © For many long miles the young knight gal- -Joped on over the plain taking no note of things - around him, To him the‘flap of a night-bird’s - wing, or the snarl of a scamperin: no more than the sound of his own -_on the plain, — . Ttmust have when he came to a little clump of bushes that seemed to stand all alone, on that great ex- | -- panse, Here he drew rein and dismounted Ae Buiokty he stripped the saddle and bridle from : me se ated it out to grass close along- eother a coiled | ) with wolf were | ing upon her strength orse’s hoofs | sure | ‘been near the hour of midni ht | animal, | hind gazing up into the starry sky. As he had done often before in his night- ly solitude on tho plains, he traced out the stars with whose names he was familiar and medi- tated upon the infinite power of the Hand that worlds, , While thus engaged he saw a star suddenly shoot across the brow of heaven and go trailing | its fiery course downward toward the south. His eyes followed it, and just where it seemed to plunge into the darkness of the.en th, a black object seemed to spring up from the shadows against the sky. He watched it closely and saw | that it moved, and pre ently he discovered an- other like it a little lower down, They looked like the heads of horsemen whose bodies and horses were below the line of light. Turning over cn his side, the young plains- man Inid his car to the ground and listened. Then he started, and, springing to his feet, took up his weapon and blanket and: carried them into the thicket, ‘TTorsemen are ccm'n’ as sure as my name is Joe Harris! and I wonder who in the name o’ George Washington it can be coming in from that direction? Surely it can’t be any of the bays fronM@he Sweetwater ranches.” eading his horse into the bushes hoe took a position where he could commiand a viow of. the lain and waited and watched, He know the 10rsemen would pass near, for they were cvi- dently following an old trail that ran hard by» across the plain. He had not long to wait. Two persons riding side by side came up and passed the motte ata canter, acd tothe utter surprise and astonish- ment cf the Loy he saw that one of them was a woman | ‘ ‘Great guns!” the youth exclaimed to him- self, ‘there's somctiing wrong there or clse I'ma wild Ojibway! No woman’d be gallop- adin’ around over this plain at this time unless there was, and [ rather think Pll inquire into the matter, Thero’s nothin’ in my contract Colonel Bowen tbat prohibits me from lookin’ after women-folis as well as Mavericks and horse-thieves, so here go°s.” He hastily bridled and saddled his horse, rolled up his blanitct and replaced them be- hind the saddle; then from the leather pouch before mentioned he tuck four inzen-ously-con- structed ‘mufilcrs,” which he proceeded to slip on over his horse’s fect, con ing the same with a strap and buckle around the pastern, thereby rendering noiseless the animal's iron- shod hoofs. ; ’ This had been a favorite expedient with Lar- amie Joe. It had enabled hm many times to approach a foe and deal deadly blows and then More than once he bad ridden into the very heart of an Indian tee y unheard, and then escape before injury could be inflicted upon ‘him, and for this reason the Indians had named him Pantherfoot. es As soon as all was ready the youth slung his carbine at his back by means of a strap, then leaped into his’ saddle, and with his reins in his. left hand and_ revolver in the right, he rode from the thicket. And just as he did so, his ears were greeted by the sound of more passing hoofs, and the. next moment two more horse- men came into view from behind the motte and galloped on up the old trail, To his profound astonishment he saw that one of this second pair was also awoman. He knew it was not the same two that had passed some minutes before, for he could still see them in the distance, Moreover, he was satisfied from the very at- titude—the dreoping form and bowed head—of the second woman that she was not there of her own free will, Still, he thought he might. be mistaken, and that it was fatigue that was tell- Of this he must make ore offering violence, and_so settlin in his saddle, he spoke to”his train which bounded away, its muffled hoofs escape. himself creating but the faintest soun Straight toward the unknown pair he gal- loped, approaching them, of course, from The first intimation the unknown had of any had sent whirling through space a thousand | BOSzem SS SBS SYSks SE ER SERBS Bees z 5: / ‘Halt and throw up your hands! or I'll blow your brains all over Laramie Plateau!” | *‘* Laramie Joe!” exclaimed the startled man, with an oath. * Yes, sir, that’s who I am,” responded Joe; to throw up your hands?” A little ery—half joy and half fear—burst” ‘ from the lips of the woman. ‘“* Madam,” said the young knight, though | keeping bis eyes fixed on the man, ‘I rather | think you're in trouble.” | _ * Yes, sir, that man—” the woman began, but | Joe heard no more, for the man’s horse sudden- | ly shied off to one side, and the fellow endeav- ored to take Samay 2 of the movement by drawing his revolver; but the quick eye of tbe boy detected the movement, his revolver rung eut on the still night, a groan escaped the out- law’s lips, he. swayed forward, clutched at the horn of his saddle and then, tumbled to the earth, while his horse sped away in affright over the plain. A ery of terror burst from the woman’s lips, Laramie Joe now turned in his saddle and gazed down into the woman’s face that was plainly visible in the moonlight; and it was bis turn now to meet with surprise, He saw that the face was that of a young girl—a face of re- markable beauty, notwithstanding the dis- tressed and troubled expression it bore, Reach- | ing out? the boy took the reins of her hogse and yo both it and his own. ‘ Young lady,” he said, *‘ may I ask who you are? “ Zulima Randall,” she replied, ‘Of Last Lick mining-camp?” ride a i) Spare “Great guns! what does this mean, your presence here?” ‘*T was abducted and carried away by sheer “force; but I heard that outlaw calling you Lara- mie Jce; are you that ea ‘1 am, Miss Randall,” _ ‘Then I have found a friend,” she added, ina tone more hopeful. aye) ‘“['m your friend as re i’ve life, miss,” © he assured her; ‘‘ but while this isthe first time . 9 you ever saw me, I had the pleasure of” aeeMng ~ fin 2 you in Last Lick about a week ago,” Prin og ‘Indeed! I never heard that Laramie Joe was. in the camp,” Zuiina replied, ber courage — and spirits reviv Sianice iz } ‘*] was there in u & ie a pair of horse-thieves; but, Miss Randall, when were . you abducted?” ay ; a “ About five daysago to-night.” : “Then it was =e day after I left there.” » “And my beloved friend, Sybil Bell, was car ' ried away at the same time.” rig toad thchcn tolng aba Layeeae miners doing that such a thin ul 1_happe: “They wens all at the Pick-and-Shovel at tending an entertainment given by a French artist, whom I now believe to be a confederate of the outlaws. But, Laramie Joe, the outlaw with Sybil is bat a short.distance on ahead of us.” { “Yes, and yonder the outlaw comes riding back this way. Tbe report of my revolver must have reached his ears, and he’s coming back to inquire into the matter. Now, if Icap have as good luck with him as I bad with your escort, Miss Bell will soon be a free girl also.” “ Oh, sir, you are very brave a ! kind?" the i.) nui) little maiden exclaimed, her face. growing - ome bright with hope and FY "Slate vd “Thank he miss,” Joe responded, his heart ¢, heaving with manly pride over the compliment = | the fair girl bestowed uponhim. ait Unslinging his carbine, he awaited the ap- roach of the suppored outlaw. The latter, owever, seemed to have mi ited somethi of the true situation, for, when about a bundre “ 4 sah se A sae « » ™ aoe aay Ss — pursuit of the outlaw. _ a ; abe mpg comfort all he returned fro ag (Ee
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6 —--- To this arrangement Zulima readily consent- ed, and they turned and started back toward the grove. : “Oh, why have I got to suffer so much?” the maiden exclaimed, as some new fear seemed to seize upon her mind. ‘Tue cussedness of man is at the bottom of it all, Miss Randall,” the boy replied, ‘‘ but they'll all smoke for 1¢, now mind.” ‘* Laramie Joe, it looks to me as though we were the victims of a great conspiracy.” “Vou may be, miss; God Sgt Bonar a “Sybil thinks that preacher, Paul Postle, and | lie artist that came to Last Lick are at the bot- | tom of all.” ; * What made her think so?” “PB causo we were carried away while all the men were at the entertainment given by the ) artist, and she thinks it was gotten up on pur- | pose to draw them there so that we could be | carried away.” “Well, Miss Sybil is mistaken as to Rev. Paul Postle,” said Laramie Joe, ** Do you know him?” “Yes: he was in your camp under false colors | —he is not a preacher, but Kit Bandy, the noted | old detective.” ““Tndeed? Oh, I am glad to hear it!” “Yes, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see Bandy along this way before long; but here we are, Miss Randall.” They had reached the motte, and, dismount- ing, Joe assisted Zulima from her horse and conducted her into the grove, With his knife he cut some bushes and constructed a little bower for her. Inside of this he then spread his own blankets saying: ‘“Now, Miss Randall, that’s the best I can do for your comfort, but Id advise you to lie down, and, if you can, take a good, sound sleep. I will go now in Be 4 of Sybil, and will try and get back before morning. If, however, I should not return by that time, you had better mount your horse and get where you can find water and food. Ride straight to- ward the rising wines | the sun right before you for three hours’ lively ride. It will take you a little out of your way, but it will be the safest—it will bring you to Deer Creek, down which stream you must follow until you strike Redmon’s cattle-ranch, where you will find friends and protectors,” Zulima repeated his instructions to make sure she understood him aright, thon thanked him for his kindness with all the feryency of her grateful woman’s nature. After addressing a few more words of en- couragement to the maiden, the boy bade her good-night, leaped into his saddle and galloped away northward, Zalima watched him until he had disappeared in the distance, then, as a sense of her loneli- ness rusbed across her mind,-she went back and knelt down in her bower, and lifting ber face toward heaven, poured out her heart’s emo- tions in prayer to her Heavenly Father, hum- bly supplicating Him for strength and courage to bear her own burden, and for the safe re- turn of her rescuer, the brave and gallant young knight of her girlish dreams, CHAPTER VI. ‘ HAIL FELLOWS WELL MET, Tue horse from which the- outlaw—the victim of Laramie Joe’s revolver—tumbled was a spirited animal, and, taking fright at the sound of the boy’s revolyer and the scent of blood that spurted from the man’s wound upon its withers, it frantically dashed away over the pam, It did not keep the old Indian trail it ad followed since crossing the Sweetwater, but sped away toward the northeast, the heavy swinging stirrups lashing it in the sides at every bound and goading it on almost to madness, On and on it sped swiftly, wildly. The miles traversed grow rapidly behind it. Now ed then a hungry coyote would spring from his concealment with a snappish bark and give pursuit, . In this way the terr'fied beast kept on until | ; =. the breaks and canyons trending away toward the North Furk of the Platte: river were reach- ed, . These breaks were in some places covered with thickets of brush and others with growths of pine timber. The horse entered a patch of low, stunted plum bushes, and there it was sud- | denly brought to a halt by the bridle-rein, that ! had fallen over its head, catching faston a bush. After one Reg a Baer i effort: Bie: re- lease itself n animal gave up t, anid pramiatly it began to crop the 8 bushes within reach, While thus sane? there was a rustle im the thicket near. he | f Old Tom Rattler. “‘ Whoa, now, ole boy,” suddenly came a hu- mian voice ffoni the bushes hard by; ‘* whoa ”— it went on—‘*be easy, ole feller—easy, old hossy, and V’ll he’p you out_o’ yer preedicamint —ya-att, now, pony.” Then a man rose up and advanced to the side of the horse, and taking the reins unloosened them and began patting the trembling animal on the neck. The man was dressed in the garb of a hunter. He must have been fifty odd years of age, small of stature, with keen gray eyes overhung with shaggy brows, a rather prominent nose and a sharp chin covered with short, stubby whiskers, He carried a Sbarpe’s rifle and around his waist was a cartridge-belt, well filled, and to which was suspended a sheathed hunting-knife. After he had quieted the horse, the old man said, as if the animal was an intelligent being: “ff guess, old hossy, you’ve been doin’ some yely scratchin’, but then I guess from your build you’re put Bp for lively work, and as I’m in need o’ a hoss I'll cabbage you— Ah! by the great Rosycrusians! here’s blood on you ole feller, and (’ll bet it’s the blood o’ your other master, Been in some kind o’ a racket, haven’t ye, ole hoss?, Snakes! how I do wish you could tulk—tell me the story o’ that blood, but, as ye can’t, Pll adopt ye as strayed or stolen, and mount you and ride over to camp.” So saying, the old borderman slung his rifle at his back, placed his foot in the stirrup, and was in the act of raising himself into the sad- dle when, to his surprise and horror, he beheld the head and face of a man who stood peering into his very eyes from the opposite side of the horse. This stranger had approached unheard or un- seeu, and this stealthy action had led the oll borderman to the conclusion that he was an enemy, and dropping his foot from the stirrup, he shoved his hand over the saddle quick as a flash of Bonening and caught the stranger by the hair of the head, At the same time, how- ever, the porns, “8 flung a long arm over the horse and seized the borderman by his scanty locks and held him fast. This unnatural proceeding excited the horse so that it made a sudden lunge forward, break- ing the hold of the foes, and flinging them head- long to the earth a rod apart. Quick almost as they had gone down the two men arose and confronted each other—each fin- gering at-his belt for a weapon, ‘*Cuss your ganglin’ ole carcass!” hissed the little borderman through his set teeth, his eyes blazing with fury, “‘come on, and [ll rip you open like a bean fas fang you in the liver!” ‘* Ha! you bushy-faced little weasel,” retorted the other, a tall, slim man, dressed in a suit haitsoasnie and half-plainsman, ‘advance one step and [ll tunnel yer carcass with lead so’s a coyote can gallop through you. Understand I’m not to be foolished with—I’m a hull regi- ment o’—” ‘“*Busbrangers,” interrupted the little. bor- derer, ‘ta confounded bush-louse, I’ve killed whole acres 0’ sich things as you.”. ** You're a holy untamed tempest, ar’n’t you?” “I'm old Tom Rattler—” “Ther Red River Epidemic?” broke in the tat You bet fuzzy old liver I'm that ou your oO ver I’m that per- simmon, ri 1, 00, for anything from a bush-rat to.a red-skin. * Rattler, I've heard o’ you, now to introduct myself as Ka-ristopher Bandy.” **Do you mean to say you’re Kit Bandy, the old mountain buck-goat detective?” ‘* The same, sir.” “T don’t b’lieve it—1 b’lieve you’re lyin’ like Ananias and Sappfire. I’ve been told that Kit Bandy war a handsome man; you're uglier’n a Texas steer with a bob tail.” “*Stranger—Old Rattler ”—began the other. but he was cut short by a wild, fiendish yell from behind Old Rattler, and half a score of savages. burst from the bushes and rushed to- ward the two disputants, One of them was’so close upon Rattler that bis tomahawk was raised to strike, but before he could deal the deadly blow, the pistol in the hand of Kit Bandy rung out and the red-skin fell. With a bound Old Rattler reached Bandy’s side, saying: ** You are Kit Bandy, by the great Rosycru- sians!” rmit me o-lumbus * Come, or your tresses Il be vee ” was Bandy’s nse, as he turned and fled with the speed of a . eer. Old Rattler followed close at his heels, no longer doubting the friendship of the man who saved bis life, NS — Se 2 a —$—$—$———— The savages gave chase yelling lke demons possessed, but the fugitives apace f dodged into a thicket of tall bushes and eluded them. Still the two old men did not stop until they had reached a place of safety far from’ where they had saree Rattler was the first to speak after they had stopped. ‘Yes, you must be old Kit Bandy,” he said, ‘but I never s’posed Kit war sich an ornery- lookin’ old rat as you be,” and the old féllow in- dulged in a low, good-natured laugh. ** Pll confess, Rattler, that I’m not so pretty as you are, Abas chaparral o’ whiskers on your face gives M ti such a mature look like a sun- scrotched brush patch, and that six by ten mouth looks so rosebuddish, and that anchor- fluke nose crooks so delicately that any one ’d take you for old Adonis hisself.” ‘‘ Thanks fer yer lavi h praises, Bandy, but say, ole smokestack, youdid me a good favor by shootin’ that Ingin, and now if you be lost up here on the plateau I'll gladly conduct you out o’ danger.” ‘* Lost nothin’; I can git out and you needn’t distress yourself "bout it, either. A man that’s see’d as much domestic war and thunder as I, has a fully-developed faculty for gettin’ out 0” trouble in a hurry.” ‘Then you be a married man, Bandy?” ““T was, I am, I am not, jist as you please. omestic life didn’t We didn’t work I’m a wanderin’ Jew now. jibe well with me and Sabina. well in the harness together. She hung back on the breechin’ and I kicked over the traces. But Sabina had a willo’ her own and when'she blowed her horn the walls o’ Jericho had to git. Iwas that wall and I got—I got out into the moun- ains in the midst o’ Ingins, bears, wolves, Snakes ant outlaws, and intrenched behind these I lived happy. But she left her mark on me, Rattler. If it war light, Rattler, I cculd show you a scar big as the Rattlesnake Mountains runnin’ across my head where Bina fetched me one with the poker, and on this cheek is a Devil’s Gorge where she flipped from the tips o’ her rosy fingers a huntin’-knife. Ob! I’m a total wreck,”Rat; I’m the Ruins o’ Babylon, the downfall o’ the Roman Empire, the deestruction o’ Herculan- eum— ** And a hull full Insane Asylum,” interruptea Rattler; ‘‘ old man, you're a blusbin’ old damsel a lily-lipped bummer, an ox-eyed daisy; but all this classical jokin’ aside, Bandy, who does that hoss beleng to. over which we looked into each other’s majestic countenances?” “T don’t know: but I did know it didn’t b'long to you and I made up my mind you war a hoss-thief and that I'd take youin. But I’m beginnin’ to think now that all’s not as serene as a nest o’ suckin’ doves on the Laramie Plains, Them Ingins are hereaways stealin’ hosses_ and cattle, I'll bet, and I persume the outlaws are at ‘work, also, in that business as well as gal- stealin’,” ‘“ Ah! somebody’s gals in trouble, Bandy?” “Two o’ the fairest in the West war carried away from Last Lick camp several days ago, They war fetched off up in this direction and Pm re lookin’ eyes Ae unieadaitte bis Rosycrusians! can do an iz elp count me in, too, Bandy,” said Rattler. “ All right, old man—glad to have your help. T’ve been lookin’ for a young kid named Lara+ mie Joe. He’s up on the Plateau somewhat, and if I can only strike him he'll be worth a dozen men, for he knows every foot o’ this ken- try—mountains and all; and des, he’s a hull nest o’ full-grown wildcats in a fight.” I've heard o’ him, Bandy, and would like to meet him. For frolicsome fun give me a good brave boy every pop. I knew a boy once, an we chummed, together durin’ a red-hot Ingin war in Minnesota, and [ tell you he war a wall-eyed daisy, Why, bless your ugly old eyes, penn we war a pair o’ wild sneezers and hd oug t to see'd the ha’r fly. But poor Deerhunter! he’s gone now.” “. ; * Dead?” asked Old Kit, ‘** No, married.” “Poor Deerhunter, sure enough, If he’s drank to the dregs of domestic infelicity as T have, mebby he’s a wall-eyed lunatic by this time, sk ‘ on the plains or in the moun- ONO he’s a h Kit, for he had ‘No, he’s a happy man or ad sense ‘ 3 that ‘had a hear’ and , 1 wouldnt war, my spirit is youn jist ramb. eo up this + ’ Y Ps Raye fate ot pe St Bae ae UT ey ee Pe. ge ee eT ee enol BET Bt 4 opi alge I ick ie iS a ae a pen a Si alte A es : 2 = + a é +2 ; het ;
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set in. Scalps o’ red-rinds, howsumever, are ripe at all seasons of the year.” us the two old plainsmen conversed for hours, and ere they were scarcely aware of the fact the red streaks of dawn shot athwart tho eastern sky and soon burst into the flame of » think of moving away, “I’m hungry as a b’ar, and purpose to have some fresh meat for break- fast if it’s nothin’ but sizzled coyote. If you'll light a fire I'll get the game,” ““ All right, Rattler, ring on yer ki-ote.” into the hills in search of game. Old Kit laid aside his weapons and set about gathering dry limbs and twigs for fuel. While thus engaged he was startled by the sound of hoofed feet. Turning quickly, with arms full of limbs, he was startled beyond expression to see before him, seated upon a horse, the slender figure of a masked woman, who held a cocked revolver leveled full upon bim. astounded—thunderstruck—when there came to lis = from the lips of that woman the com- mand: aa your hands, for you are my prisoner!” In an instant the truth of the situation flashed through the old man’s brain, He dropped his wood and threw up his hunds, and for the first to Lay by a woman. CHAPTER VII. CAPTAIN RACHEL, THE FEMALE OUTLAW, WirH uplifted hands, Kit Bandy stood with his eyes fixed upon the masked female who held him «xt bay with a drawn ani cocked revolver. ‘hat he was surprised and astounded _ was evi- dent from hismomentary confusion. The name by which he had: been addressed, the dual charge that accompanied it were evidence of the fact that the woman had heard of his exploits at Last Lick; and the steadiness of her hand and the ringing firmness of her voice, told “him that she had the nerve, the will and the deter- mination to shoot did he fail to comply with her command, As the old detective stood with his hands up- lifted, he realized very readily that he was in no enviable position to be seen by one who had heard so much of the skill and undaunted courage of Kit Bandy. However, the old man’s mind acted swiftly.. He bad heard—yet he did not credit the story—that there was a band of outlaws somewhere in thé“Rattlesnake Mountains whose leader was a woman by the name of Captain Rachel; and if there was any- thing of truth in the story, then that woman before him was Captain Rachel, and if so, she tad followers near—perhaps at that very. mo- ment enjoying, from some hiding-place, the spectacle of bis humiliating position. But he had been in tight places before, and having the utmost faith in: his ability ‘to outgeneral the woman through his prolific fund of expedients, he ap ed to accept the situation in the the ot joie, and when‘he threw up his hands he said: “ Allright, my lady, ’m your ownest to com- mand. ou’ve got me, and I’m old enough to know it, but by the way you address me, I fear, my lady,.that you’re mistaken as to the man ‘you are after.” ‘“*T am not, sir,” the woman replied in a voice that was not at all musical; ‘“‘ youare Rev. Paul Postle, alias Kit Bandy, the mountain detective, and you are at the end of your deceptive, atro- “i ¢ious career.” ‘Well, it’s jist as you say "bout my career, but you are away off on your man Postle- 4 Bandy. If you'd arriv’ awhile sooner, you'd : found Bandy here. He left *bout twenty min- utesazo. I am Old Tom Rattler, woman, from over on the Chugwater, that’s who [ are, but then if you are wantin’ a husband, take me in preference to Bandy, for I’m a han’somer man, and besides, Bandy’s sich an onmitigated old liar. _Take me off to. your wild mountain ; grotto, oh, fair lady, and make me your prince, ---. «your mate. I know you're a sweet, lovely gal ie —your graceful form and noble mien tells me 80, ch J see not your face. Take me away q -.to your palatial nest, for I'm yours to love, Fotis cherish and proteet—’m your hero, your = knight, your crusader, your dashiu’ ox-eyed ¥. d “Your silly twaddle will avail you nothing, =) Pace scoundrel.” the keen-witted woman replied, _ nor can you deceive me as to who you are, . a > & y. “Bandy,” said Rattler, when they began to | Rattler shouldered his rifle and started off | And he was | “* Paul Postle—murderer—assassin, throw up | time in his eventful life Kit Bandy was brought on a Old Tom Rattler. You are the man that shot Major Robert Bell | from the lips of Old Rattler, who emer; t of Last Lick.” ** And even if that war so, are you Major Bell’s avengeress?” “*T am,” she replied with measured accents, “Then you must be Captain Rachel, the she- outlaw.” | of her, you know your doom is sealed.” “Tve heard the capt?in war a dancin’ devil, but I don’t believe youare, Rachel. But what's Major Bell’s trouble to you, anyhow? War you Hullo! who’s that comin’ there?” A low sardonic laugh escaped the vailed wo- man’s lips. ‘*Those are some of the followers of Captain Rachel.” Six mounted outlaws came in sight from around a wooded point and rode toward them. The face of one of them was masked—the others | being rough, bearded and desperate-looking men, each of whom carried a revolver in his hand. A loud, coarse laugh, that rung through the woods in demoniac glee, burst from the nren’s lips at sight of the old detective and the woman. “Aurrah for Captain Rachel!” yelled one of | them, and again the six made the hills ring with Satanic voices. ‘*Captain Rachel,” said the masked outlaw, ‘that’s our man, the Apostle Paul, the gay and festive Kit Bandy.” Te denies that he is Bandy,” the woman said, “No difference, we can run him in as a sus- picious character,” said the masked outlaw whose voice Bandy felt assured he had heard before. Kit found that he was in a worse difficulty than be had at first supposed, His weapons were fully two rods away, and his fertile brain after all could conceive no possible chance of escape. He finally began to grow uneasy lest Rattler should return and unknowingly place himself in the same trap, for in the old bunter’s aid now centered his only hope of escape. “Old man,” Captain Rachel said, “ you will have to submit to have your hands bound and accompany us to headquarters where your case will receive further attention.” “Shoot him down there! why bother with him?’ exclaimed an outlaw: “if he’s Bandy, he’s a slippery old cuss, and may getaway, A bird in the hand’s wu’th two in the bush.” ‘* No, no, we have use for him,” said Captain Rachel; ‘I desire to have a talk with him be- fore he dies if he is whom we think, Kit Bandy.” By this remark Kit knew the woman was not sure of his identity, altnough the masked man had declared he was, and so the old fellow began tos late as to how he could take advantage of their doubt. While his thoughts were thus busied, an outlaw dismounted, and taking a lariat from bis saddle-bow, advanced to bind the old detective’s hands. Bandy saw. his move- ments and divined* his intentions, and the spirit of bis combativeness asserted itself beyond con- trol, and the iustant the fellow came. within reach, his right arm fell and his bony fist was driven into the villain’s face with such sudden and terrific force as to knock him down, So quickly and unexpectedly was this lick given, that the outlaws were for a moment con- fused by the audacity of the act, and before they could resent the blow, a rifle off in the bushes rung out, and an outlaw, uttering a cry -of agony, tumbled from his horse. And this shot was followed by a second one, but from a different direction, and the bullet, grazing the hip of Captain Rachel’s horse, caused the ani- mal to lunge forward with pain and affright, and, despite the efforts of the woman, who dropped her revolver and gave her attention to her horse, it dashed away down the canyon at a furious speed. In the nidst of the confusion that reigned, Laramie Joe, the Boy Knight of the Plains, suddenly glided from around a bluff —his horse’s hoofs muffled—with a revolver in each hand ringing out in deadly tones. Confusion and terror seemed to seize the minds of the outlaws, whose horses were already plunging with affright so that they could not use their revolvers, and, panic-stricken. the fled down the canyon after Captain Rachel, leaving two of their number dead on the field. Laramie Joe didnot attempt to follow them pee was Satisfied with sending a few shots after ' them. “Hurrah for Laramie Joe!” yelled Old Kit, when he realized that he was a free man once }. more; “‘hurrah.for the velvei-footed kid o’ the Laramie Plains!” “ And hurrah for Kit Bandy!” suddenly burst **T am Captain Rachel, and if you know aught | 7 from he bushes whence the first shot had come; ‘hurrah for the gigantic fraud o’ the Plateau! the lily-lypped hummer o’ the foot-hills! the royal, wild-eyed liar 0’ the West! Oh, by the great Rosycrusians! Bandy, I overheard your conversation with that vailed woman and your trying to palm your ugly self off for Old Rat- tler, the Chugwater gambolier; and I am pre- pared to vote you a hcary-headed, sacrilegious deception.” “Say, you old ox-eyed daisy,” interrupted Bandy, bis face aglow with joy, ‘close that Mammoth Cave and let me introduct you to Laramie Joe, the young hurricane o’ the Lara- mie Plains,” ‘*Rosycrusians! that Laramie Jce? well, by snakes, Joe, ’'m glad to press your palm,” said Rattler, grasping the boy’s band in a grip that almost her him outof hissaddle; ‘‘myname’s . Rattler—Old Tom Rattler.” ‘* Tndeed?” exclaimed Joe; ‘‘ well. sir, ’m re- joined to meet you of whom I’ve often heard; but doesn’t it strike you that our friend Bandy was in close quarter's?” , “T should gargle that it did,” responded Rat- tler, with a hearty laugh; ‘‘and if you could ’a’ hearn the great old mountain detective’s talk ‘when he stood under kiver o’ that gal’s revolver you'd ’a’ had a fit. Fu’st he lied like a pirate and tried to pass his ugly self off for me, and then the soft, creamy Jove-stuff he lipped off to that gal made her gag.” ‘* By the horn o’ Joshua! if you’d ’a’ seen that woman’s eyes through her vail, you'd ’a’ been broke up, too. Tl sw’ar they fairly fanged me —gored me to the heart lke the horns o’ a Texan steer. I’m no chicker-heart, Rattler. Ive been—am—am not married, and my wife Sabina, was no chicken-heart—no house-plant —no doll for her husband to dandle, but she shot straight from the shoulder and dandled her hushand; and that’s why I’m here, Rat.” “But didn't this wcenan call you Paul, the Apostle?” asked Rattler. ‘Yes, I spose she see’d I resembled that good old man o’ the Bible—kind o’ martyrish like. ‘‘ Yes, but she called you an assassin—a mur- Cerer, and that dian’t sound much like Holy Writ, Old feller, I are dre’dful afeerd there’s something smu(dgy al out you,” “You can’t alers tell by a feller’s lock, Rat, what he is, If sich war the case that mug 0’ yours 'd not indicate a spotless, snow-ball char- acter, But Jayin’ metaphysics aside, Rattler, I must confess you fanged that outlaw in good shape and tRat squares up for that Injun I drapped for you last night.’ “Are the Indians on tke rampage, Kit?” asked Laramie Joe. ; “Ha doogins of ’em are ki-otin’ ’round over the plateau. : ‘T am sorry to hear it,” said the boy, thought- fully. ‘ ‘Lad, ye hav’n’t heard what happened to Last Lick have yout” “ss “From who?” “ Zulima Randall,” : “Horn o’ Josbua! where'd you see the gal?” ‘“‘T rescued ker trcm an outlaw last night.” ‘* And where's she now?” 4 “T Jeft her in a grove far down the plain and came on in search of Sybil Bell whom Zulima informed me had also been carried away.” “Hurrah for you, boy! you’re a wall-eyed screamer; but that war a rather tragic night in Last Lick.” ‘“ Why, did. anything else happen besides the abduction of the two girls?” ‘‘} should proclamate there did. Major Bell was shot in the head, and I guess he'll kick over the traces—die.” Who shot bim?” “ Paul Postle, that old preacher.” A grim smile passed over the boy’s face as he fixed a searching look upon the old detective's eyes. After a moment’s silence, Bandy went on: “ And you haven't rescued Sybil, yit” “No,” replied Joe; ‘I followed her trail, as I suppesed, to the hills and to this point, but it seems Dve heen following the wrong trail,” “Why the wrong trail, lad?” ~ ‘ Because I failed to find the abducted girl.” ‘‘ Ah! there’s where you're mistaken, Joseph,” “T don’t understand you, Kit.” ‘¢ Wal, I have discovered that all Last Lick has been most shamefully and robustly deceived ; for I have discovered within the last half-hour that Sybil Bell, the charming, queenly darter o’ Major Bob Bell, is that festive outlaw we- man, Captain Rachel ™
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8 CHAPTER VIII, A MAIDEN’S PRAYER AND THE DEAD MAZEPPA. LET us now return and lock after Zulima Randall, whom we left in the little motte on the plain under the starry sky. After the maiden had offered up a fervent rayer, she sat down upon the couch prepared or her by her gallant young rescuer. She now had an opportunity for reflection, and the lone- liness of her situation filled her heart with a de- spondency that she could not shake off. The face of her dead mother and that of ber mur- dered father came up before her, and in her heart of hearts she wished that she was with them, The only ray of light that seemed shin- ing through the gloom that surrounded her young life was a new-born hope that had sprung up within her breast since her meeting with Laramie Joe, She was tired, nervous, and hungry, and her fears worked so like a gnawing Caailea upon her mind that the slightest sound became magnified iato a dreadful noise, The chirp of a cricket seemed like the scream of a savage; the foot- falls of ground-mice running around her were like the tramp of coyotes, and the sound of her horse cropping the grass, and the rustle of the foliage above her in a passing breeze, all con- spired to distress her. Once she thought she heard a taint moan, and her thoughts at once rev.tted to the outlaw—her late captor—whom Laramie Jo» had killed, lying on the plain so near, She listened with bated breath for a repetition of the sound, but all was quiet, After a long mental struggle tired nature ave way and she laid down and fell asleep. She slept soundly—so soundly, in fact, that when she awoke it was broad daylight. The sun was high in the heavens, She started up, realizing at once that she had overslept herself, for she was to havo started at sunrise for a place of safety in case Laramie Joe did not re- turn; and he bad not, What bothered the maiden now, as one often fis who in sickness or mental troubles falls asleep in the darkness and awakes in the day- light, was the time of day. She could not tell whether it was late in the morning or early in the evening. There was no dew on the grass and the sun was shining warm. To satisfy her mind as to the points of the compass she cut a slender stick, and stepping out into the open plain she stuck ore end of it in the ground. Then she watched the shadow of the stick and noted the course it moved. This test, taken in connection with the increas- ing space between the sun and the horizon, con- vinced her that it was morning. , So she made haste tod for Deer Creek Ranch as directed by Laramie Joe. Catching her horse, which was grazing near, she bridled and saddled it, and then took up the lariat and se- cured it to the saddle, Then she went back into the grove to get her blankets, and while there she was startled with a genuine moan of human ony. *eSbe drew back, the blood r cold in her veins, She gazed around her in terror, her brain growing dizzy. Her eyes fell upon an object. that almost paralyzed her very heart. It was the wild, haggard face of a man lying in the bushes néar, and she recog- nized the face as that of her late outlaw captor whom Laramie Joe bad shot and, as he sup- posed, killed. The maiden took a step backward and seemed on the eve of turning to flee, ‘*Zulima, for God’s sake, don’t leaye me!” er wretched man gasped, with apparent great effort. Zulima swallowed the great lump in her throat. She breathed somewhat easier, yet she could not speak nor could she remoy* her eyes from that ghastly face. The wounded outlaw saw that she was dumb with terror, and to relieve her he said: “ Znlima, you need bave no further fears of me. Iam dyin’. I know [ have wronged you, but I hope you will not desert me. That des- rate boy’s pistol has done the work for me. h, I’m dyin’ in agony—don’t leave me—I can- not harm you, Zulima!” “I can do you no good, I fear,” the girl found use of her voice to as 5 ‘(Only for my soul, Zu'ima,” he moaned; ‘I want you to pray for me, for I’ve but a short time to live. Oh, I know it will be hard to pray for one that. has wronged you as I have— ut that wrong brings me here a dying peni- tent. I know you area good Christian girl—I have heard you pray many times since we left Last Lick, and God seems to your prayer pray for have answered Oh, I know you will not refuse to God’s merey for a soul that Old Tom Rattler. is so soon to leave my burnin’, achin’ breast. Zulima, I was raised better. My poor old mother—” Here the conscience-stricken man _ broke down. Zulima’s woman-heart was touched with pity, instead of revolting with indignation and scorn. She forgot that the’-man was an outlaw and that he Tid endeavored to carry her away in captivity than which death would have been preferable, She thought of nothing Lut a trembling, penitent spirit hovering on the shores of eternity, asking a dying favor—beg- ging a prayer—an appeal to the Great Master before whom it was so soon to appear in judg- ment. Zulima advanced toward him. She saw that his clothes were incrusted and stiff with blood, The pallor of death was about his lips, His eyes wore that wild, glassy lcok, so evident of the presence of the grim monster. “Can I not relieve your pain? bind up your wound?” asked the noble, forgiving girl. ‘No, no,” he replied, with a feeble shake of his head; ‘‘nothing nor no one on earth can help me, Zulima, nd I do not want to die before my soul has been commended for mercy at God’s throne-—come nearer me, Zulima—don’t fear me —I’m helpless as a child, Tell. Laramie Joe I hold no grudge against him for this—he was right—I was wroug—l’ve been wrong for years, Oh, that I had life and strength to ebamdeh my soul! Td tell you all. How the past comes up before me—I have lived my life all over in the — two hours. My boyhood days, the old 1ome, my parents, my brothers and sisters, my playmates, the old school-house and the old stone church—Il’ve seen them all, Zulima. And once I thought I heard my mother's loving voice in ae Rear nda Sig or us all— praying that we’d all come to her by way of Calvary and Cross, But, Zulima, I am growin’ weaker, Will you pray forme? I ask it asa dyin’ favor.” With streaming eyes Zulima went down upon her knees. The dying outlaw turned over on his side and rested his elbow on the ground and his head on his hand, Zulima Randall was a devout Christian girl, and with all the fervor of her young heart she lifted her voice to Heaven in behalf of the dying outlaw. Long and fervently she prayed. Low and sweet was her voice. Her slender form swayed to and fro, and her white face up- sited toward Heaven wore the serenity of an angel. hen she had pronounced the last word and turned her streaming eyes upon the outlaw, she saw his head fall back, his jaws drop apart and his glassy eyes stare sightless toward heaven. He was dead, Zulima rose to her feet. A footstep sounded near. She turned quickly, and to her surprise and terror found berself confronted by a great, rded, y-looking man, dressed in a half-savage garb, while from the bushes near appeared, like so many grinning demons, a yess or more painted and plumed Indian war- riors A cry burst from the maiden’s lips and she tanta back, A savage nimbly sprung forward and seized her by the arm, at the same time uttering a low, guttural ejaculation. Boor shrunk from his grasp, a shriek escap- er lips, f Let go that gal’s arm, Wolfheart!” com- manded the white man, in a tone of authority. ‘* And the Ingin that dares to barm a hair o’ her head—to even touch her ag’in, ll git his noggin’ bu’sted wide open, White Bear has ED en, and the pale-face squaw can go her way n peace. “ White Bear does not mean what he says,” said a savage to the renegade chirf. ““I do, red-skin,” replied the chief; ‘‘ the gal ean go free.” “ Oh, sir!” cried Zulima; “‘ you are very kind!” ‘*T should hope the Lord ’d strike me dead,” the white chief said, ‘if I didn’t have enough o the honor o’ civilization and manhood left in me to defend you after that prayer, I heard it, gal, from beginnin’ to‘ Amen, That. dead man there isan old, b’loved friend e’ mine, and the woman that’d git down on her knees and pray for his soul deserves my protection. I’m no angel, gal, God knows, and the company I keep ‘ll tell you that; but I promise you that them red-skins sha’n’t harm you as long as I cen pulla trigger.” ‘ Zulima breathed a praver of thanks, She saw now ‘hat ber kindness of heart was bearing rich fruit—that ber prayer for the dying had touch- ed a chord in the breast of the renegade and aroused his honor and manhood which, perhaps, had laid dormant for years. But she saw that his words were received with ill-favor by kis savage followers. A low grunt of disappicvet assed from lip to lip, and a fierce, malignant scowl] settled upon their faces. More than ore hand had already sought the knife at its owner’s irdle. Mutiny was threatened, but the chief imself was equal to the emergency, and grasp- ing his revolver he again said: ; ‘Miss, you can go now, and if you would find friends, go in yonder direction—ride fast, and you'll strike a creek finally which you must follow until you reach a cattle-rancb. And as you go. I hope you'll not forget that there is one white outcast and outlaw among the many in the great West that has a spark of honer and manhood left—who respects innocence and virtue,” ‘“‘ Oh, thank you, sir, I shall never forget you and your kindness and mercy!” Zulima said, and then she turned to depart, ; A savage stepped in before her, saying: ‘* No, can’t go.” ‘Warrior, stand aside and let that white squaw pass,” commanded the chief, indignantly, em hatically. ‘the Indian looked at his superior with a treacherous scowl, then drew his knife. ‘Go on, miss,” the renegade said, ‘‘ and if he inferferes again it'll not be healthy for him,” Zulima turned and started around the Indian, but, quick as thought; the red-skin seized her by the arm, with a look of devilish malignance upon his face, and raised his knife to plunge it into her heart and thus settle the dispute; but the renegade was too quick for him—his pistol ciacked and the murderous arm fell, shattered, at its owner’s side. : A scream of pain burst from the red-skin’s li ips. With acry Zulima bounded away, and pess- ing out of the grove she ran to ter horse that was waiting near, and nimbly leaping into the saddle gallo away, never daring to glance back toward the grove through fear of her eyes meeting some horrid scene. She heard seve- ral pistol-shots follow each other in rapid suc- cession as she rode away, and also savage yells that filled her breast with a vague fear for the safety of the man who had saved her life. but free of all dangers for the time being, and mounted upon her horse that bad béen re- freshed by a good feed of grass and rest, the meiden rode swiftly eastward, inwardly pray- ing that her trials and suffering were near an end, 0 She rode forward for some time, and finally entered a little depression in the plain that kept deepening until it grew into a canyon with wooded bluffs on either side. A little stream of water meandered through the canyon, gath- ering strength as it advanced from springs along the way. At one of these springs Zu- lixna finally disrrounted, slaked her_ thirst, and then bathed her bands and face. She also. watered her horse, then remounting continued on her way. She -had ridden some distance, and had come to the happy conclusion that she was at last free from-all dangers, but this roved a delusion, for suddenly she was star- ted by the clatter of boofs in the canyon be- hind her. Glancing back she saw a horse coming down the defile at a furious gait, his rider lying flat upon bis back, and, seized with a new-born fear, the maiden lashed her spony 1o his utmost speed. The way was smooth and unbroken by tush, stone or gully, though winding and tortuous, and the girl had boped to outdistance her pur- suer, as she believed the horseman to be; Dut she soon became convinced that he was gaining upon her. He came so close, in fact, that she could hear the panting of his horse, and pres- ently she discovered that the animals were run- ning side by side—neck and neck. As her pursuer spoke not, Zulima ventured to look around, when a scene of horror met her gaze, A cry burst from her lips, and she wes compelled to grasp her pony’s mane to steady herself in the saddle,’ : Lashed to his horse’s back with ropes, his face covered with crusted blood, and, to all appear- ances dead, was. Laramie Joe the Boy Knight: of the Plain—was the sight that met ber gaze and ‘sent a convulsive shudder through ber breast. Her very soul revclted at the awful sight, and she lasbed her horse with all her strength in hopes of urging it ares from the other, but despite her efforts, and that of her noble beast, the other horse kept close at ber side with his silent rider—t eless on his back, | J
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~ Red Bob , *‘ but I “¢elared Hyena Jim. “Kall nothin’,” replied Sonora Steve; Old Tom Rattler. CHAPTER IX, THE ROBBERS’ CAMP, In a deep, dark’ valley, under a cluster of pines in the Laramie Hills, ten men were en- camped. They were rough, bearded, booted fellows, heavily armed. ey were outlaws, as their appearances indicated. Their horses were tethered in the valley near camp, and one of their number s guard. Itis night when we would look in upon this rob- ber camp, Around a dim camp-fire the party is seated—some playing cards, some telling sto- ries and singing ribald songs, and some con- versing. And in course of the conversation, one of the latter remarks: “T shouldn’t be surprised if that Last Lick skeme 0’ Ralston’s had miscarried.” ‘*Why so, Red Bob?” asked a companion. _ “ Because, here two weeks have passed and nothin’ heard from thar yit.” “ Ha! ha!” laughed another, known as Hyena Jim, ‘‘Red Bob is gittin’ anxious to see Cap- tain Rachel. I alers thought Bob war in love with that gal.” ** Call it what you want to, Hyena,” replied m gittin’ tired o’ this inactiv- ity; besides, I don’t see what there can be in that Last Lick business that’d take a year or more to develop. Now, the general and Cap Rachel hev been at that minin’-camp - ten months, They got rid o’ Judge Randall easy, and the best o’ their detectives hev failed to fer- ret out the matter. Now, what war they doin’ to keep them thar all this time?” “ Waitin’ for a chance to carry_off the judge’s darter.” : “Thunder and Mars! I could ’a’ rid in thar and toted ber off six months ago—somethin’ else the general’s after.” if “Yes; but the gineral knows his business, and don’t you disremember that. He’s slow but alers sure, and you know we all promised him to be patient till he got back.” “To be sure, Hyena,” replied Bob, ‘and hav’n’t we been?” ‘sHarkee!” suddenly exclaimed one of the d. Ail listened and heard the sound of approach- ing hoofs. “Some one’s comin’ sure as death,” said Rod b. ‘¢ Some o’ our folks, I'll ente an eye.” “Who comes there?” the man cn guard was heard to call out. ‘ ; / “My name is Sonora Steve; is this the camp Raa: 5 “All right, Sonora Steve, advance,” the guard replied. “News from Last Lick, or I’m a ae de- ‘‘Ho, Sonora Steve, old boy—glad to meét you, senor.” e little Mexican dismounted and shook hands with his old companions, in the mean time glancing ag yt Ne about camp. “Glad to git back to the ranks, boys,” the Mexican said, *‘ but I see Captain Rachel hasn’t aérriv’ yet.” . “No, not yet.” © That’s peter ee and four hours before I did.” “Tndeed? and did the gineral’s scheme work?” “They got the girl, Zulima, but at fearful ” . “You don’t say so?” Yes, the gineral got a bullet through his head, and ’s goin’ to die.” _ An exclamation of surprise and sorrow burst from the lips of the robbers, Est How on earth did that bappen?” asked Red b “t's a long story and I’m tired and hungry,” was Sonora’s rey. 5 ‘Acting upon this hint an outlaw took Steve's orse while another procured him some food. After he bad eaten, and regaled himself on a drink of whisky, he began and narrated the story of the Frenchman’s exhibition at the Pick-and-Shovel in Last Lick and the final shooting of Major Bell by the Rev. Paul. Postle. The outlaws were thunderstruck by this sad intelligence, for, as the reader has already in- ferred, r Bell was the “General” Ralston Zandt of the outlaw band. “ Did you kill the cuss that shot the general?” Hyena Jim, furious with rage. sigs but it war developed noted detective named ber party left twenty- eS . -blighter of my girlish heart, T ** She don’t know it.” “Don’t know it? how’s that?” *“You see the gals war abducted while all | the camp war at the Frenchman’s show, and of course, Rachel war ten miles or more from | camp afore Postle shot the gineral; and I’ve fol- | lered up to break the news to her.” ‘* By snakes, it?ll kill her!” declared Red Bob, | *for she worshiped her dad, and no mistake, Poor gal! I feel—” ‘* Hello-ch, down there.” It was a sharp, shrill voice that came piercing through the night to the ears of the outlaw | band, putting an end to their conversation and bringing every wan to his feet. ** A woman’s squawk or I never heard one!” declared Hyena Jim, and advancing a few paces in the direction whence the call came, he demanded: ** Who's there?” : “It’s me, please gracious,” was the unsatis- factory rey ly. “Who's me, please gracious?” demanded Hy- ena. ‘A poor, deserted female woman—Sabina Bandy,” came from out the gloom. “By gar!” exclaimed Kid Cole, “she said her name war Bandy—some relation o’ Old Kit’s, I reckon—his darter, maybe. Tell her to | waltz in, Jim,” ** Advance, Sabina Bandy, and accept the hospitality o’ our camp, won't you?” asked Jim. ‘* Who are you? outlaws or hunters?” the wo- man questioned, ** Hunters,” lied Hyena Jim. “Git up, Pecos,” the woman was heard to say to her horse, and the next moment she rode from the gloom into the light of the outlaws’ camp-fire. ; A broad grin overspread the bearded faces of the freebooters at sight of the woman and her. horse; and one of «them said ina low tone to Kid Cole: ** Must be Bandy’s youngest darter, and I’d freeze onter her and make her my wife, if I war you, Kid.” The woman must have been fifty years of age, with a soured and wrinkled visage, a sharp, piercing eye, and a sunken mouth with thin, com lips. She was dressed in a coarse frock of dark material, a sun-bonnet that was battered and torn. Around her shoulders, was an old faded shawl pinned with a huge thorn at the throat. Thé“horse this woman rode showed that he not only carried a burden of years but was old himself, thin in flesh, and to all appearances well-jaded. **Now here I be—-good-evenin’, gentlemen,” the woman said, as she glanced over the crowd; “my name is Sabina Bandy, and I'm tbe law- fully wedded consort o’ Kit Bandy, the—” “Well, what are you doin’ up here, Mrs, Bandy?” Red Bob asked. ‘In search of my husband who desarted my bed and board without cause or provocation; and, please the Great Master, if I ever get eyes on that deestroyer of female happiness, that make him smoke.” ““That’s the way we are feelin’ "bout now, Mrs, Bandy,” said Hyena Jim, ‘‘ and we'd like to assist you in your work; but if you’re in search of him you must know he’s in these parts somewhere.” “The last I hearn of the heartless destroyer of female happiness he war up in these parts,” replied Sabina, still keeping her seat in the sad- dle; “and if the truth’s known perhaps some innoceat, confidin’ girl is the object of his rapacious heart, though I’m told he’s passin’ hisself off for a detective. A pretty detective he must be! Id like to detect him once more rie Please gracious, I’d break every bone in $ a eS a eee ee ne oe ee ee eee “Tf he’s such an old heathen what do you want to hunt him up for?” asked Kid Cole. “To torment him, to devil bim, to harass him, to make his life as miserable as mine, to make him sup sorrow, to make sure he never ’s clasped in other female arms than them,” and she thrust out her long bony arms as if to clasp | an imaginary being, while her eyes snapped like | r e. The outlaws could not suppress an outburst of | laughter, * Old gal, T’ve an ijee you'll make it tropical | sure enough, for your lord and master if you’ could find him.” “Find him I will if Ihave to foller him to the end of the earth,” the wronged wife said. *“ a woman’s spirit has been ‘roused, ‘and I can tell ! ye T'm no doll—no hoqee pent. For five years | ‘ve hounded that ongra i man from post to # =X pillar, and as long as my lamp of life holds out to burn the darned old, fickle-hearted man-flirt shall breathe no love-words in another woman’s | ear as he did when he won my childish hand. Oh! it breaks my- heart to think cf the perfidy of that man!” and Mrs. Bandy began to sob and wring her hands while her body swayed to and fro like a reed in the wind. ‘*That’s good as a monkey show,” remarked one of the outlaws, *Thar’s so dashed much deception and by~ pocrisy in this ’ere great, big, wicked world,” said Kid Cole, *‘ that I’d as soon think that old woman’s playin’ some sharp— Hello! now. I wonder who’s comin’?” The Jast question was drawn out by the sound of more hoofs coming up the valley from the south, In an instant the outlaws had their hands on their weapons. Silence reigned for a few moments, then, as * man and wonian suddenly emerged from the gloom, a shout burst frcm the lips of the band, and a rush was made toward the new-comers, “Captain Rachel! Captain Rachel, the queer of tbe mountaineers, by the great Jehovah!” shouted Hyena Jim, excitedly. The woman thus received by the outlaw band was Sybil Bell, the Leautiful and queenly daugh- ter of Major Robert Bell! The outlaws seemed wild with delight, and, for the time being, all else was forgotten, The valley rung wild with their lusty shouts of joy, and it was several minutes before the excite- ment of the reception of the queen of the moun- tain outlaws had abated; but when it did, the band met with a surprise in the absence of Sa- bina Bandy. The old woman had taken advantage of the outlaws’ excitement over the arrival of the girl, and rode «way into the darkness of the valley. CHAPTER X. A FIGHT FOR LIFE, LARAMIE JOE was astounded by the declara- tion of Ola Kit that Sybil Bell was the notori- ous femals outlaw known as Captain Rachel. At first he could scarcely credit the story, but after some reflection, and the consideration of certain facts, he was forced to accept it as true; and upon these grounds he could readily under- stand how the trail of Sybil Bell had disap- peared in the hills, “Then she, too,” the young knight said, “ has been instrumental in the abduction of Zulima Randall.” ; **To ke sure she bas,” replied Bandy, “ but until [ recognized her voice under her mask sich a thing as Captain Rachel bein’ Sybil Bell never entered my mind. But it seems they’ve all got onto my scheme, for they add me as Paul Postle; but, by the horn o’ old Josbuat I don’t care a continental! The mission o’ Paul Postle has been accomplished, and now Ka-ris- topher Ko-lumbus Bandy’ll finish up the jeb and polish it off.” “T begin to see, Pandy, that you are a lily- liy hummer—a Velvet-throated damse},” said Old Rattler; ‘‘but it hurts me to think o’ the way you lied to that outlaw gal.” “YT guess you'll live through it, Rattler,” re- sponded Kit, ‘for if I war huntin’ for a George Washington trutb-teller you are the last critter I know of I'd pick on, But as we have no busi- ness in these parts, boys, spose we lean off in some other direction—a bealthier climate, for instance.” “All right, Kit,” said Joe, “I would Jike to et back to where I left Miss Randall, though I hardly expect to find her there, for I told her to go on down to the Deer Creek Ranch if I were not back by sunrise.” Securing the dead cutlaws’ weapons and am- munition, they packed them on Joe’s horse, then the trio s.arted away toward the suuth- west, In the course of a couple of hours they cleared the hills and entered the open plain across which lay their course. Tareiiie Joe insisted cn his two old friends taking turns with him in riding, and by this means they were enabled to make tolerably good time, An hour or so after éntering the plain, Lara- mie Joe discovered a number of vultures high in the air away to the north of them. ‘They were slowly circling in the air, and seemed to be coming nearer and nenrer, “T don’t like to see them,” remarked the boy. “No, they’re not stars o’ Bethlehem,” admit- ted Old Kit. ~ Old Rattler, who was in the sad..e, turued his head, and gazed across the plain, A cry burst from his lips. ‘
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ee PS ee ee Pe Le wees PoP ey 3 10. ‘* What d’ye see, Rat?” “ Hossmen! and they’re comin’ a-flukin’, too!” “The devils are after us, sure,” exclaimed Bandy, : " “Yes, boys,” said. Rattler, ‘‘ we're goin’ to thave some s'iff old fightin’ to do, but then we’re them as can do it,” ** Laramie,” said Old Kit, “‘ jump yer hoss and fine out and save that gal, Zulima.” ** Yes, that’s so, boy,” added Rattler, leaping from the saddle, ‘‘ go save the gal, and if we go | ander, you—” ‘*No, no, old friends,” interrupted the boy, “‘T will never desert a friend in the face of dan- ger. If there’s going to be some fighting to do, I want a hand in it.” **But look here, boy, you and the gal are “young, and there’s a deal o’ life before you yit,” argued Old Rattler, ‘‘ while me and that old Ruins o’ Babylon there have 'bout rounded out our full measure o’ years.” “That may all be, but my sense of duty will admit of no desertion of you,” replied Joe; “I'd rather die an honorable boy than a conscience- stricken old man. No, I shall stay with you, for I can plainly see that you will’need my help. There are Indians among those horse- men.” The approaching enemy could now be seen quite plainly, and, as near as possible, Old Kit made out about twenty in the party, the na- jority being savages, They were riding rapidly, a line of dust hanging on the air marking their trail back almost to the hills. ‘““We've got big odds to fight, boys,” the de- tective said, ‘ a,j here in the open plain it’s go- in’ to bustle us to kill ’em all afore they git in some work. I hate arfully to deestroy so many people that might be useful to society.” ‘* Bandy, you’re. a hull Quaker-meetin’-house full o’ Christianity—a rooral deestrict of sim- plicity, a female seminary o’ tender-hearted ness,” said Old Rattler; ‘‘:you’d ought to’a’ been a deetective in the land o’ love instead o’ tha hills and prairies,” ‘* Let us hurry forward to yonder eminence, folks,” said Laramie Joe; ‘‘there’s a spring there where we can get water, and besides we can command the approach on all sides to a bet- | ter advantage.” ‘ A good idea, lad,” replied Rattler,” for we'll need some advantage, sure sartain.” The three burried forward and took their po- sition on the eminence and got their rifles and revolvers, including those taken'from the out laws, in readiness for the struggle. By this time the encoming oe. were within half a mile of them, and as the trio gazed upon ‘the flying horde, a look of desperate determina- tion settled upon their features, To the two old men Laramie Joe looked beroic in his un- wavering, resolute courage, and his calm, manly eanor, To one unacquainted with the skill, courage and fighting qualities of those three whites, an attempt to repel that horde of infuriated say~- ' ages and outlaws would seem like criminal fouly, and could have. but one outcome, and that cer- tain death to the three. But the idea of surrendering to their. enemies never once entered the minds of the whites, They knew it was victory or death. They calm- ly awaited the approach of the foe, never mov- ing until they were within two hundred yards, Then Laramie Joe dropped upon one knee, and resting his elbow on the other, leveled his car- bine on the foremost of the foe—a red-skin—and The boy had measured the intervening. dis- tance with the eye, but the distance was longer than he had calculated upon, and the bullet fell short of the mark, but it was not without ef- fect, for the savage’s flying. horse was shot through the brain and the red-skin flung heels over head to the earth. A shout of triumph burst from the lips of Bandy and Rattler, and was answered by a de- fiant war-whoop from the foe, “+ By the horn o’ old Joshua!” exclaimed Pan- dy, ‘‘ you fanged that feller, Laramie, sure!” * No—only bis hoss,” said Rattler; ‘‘ but try another shot the same elevation and you'll get a red-rind.” The enemy had come to a stop in some con- fusion. . The unhorsed red-skin was evidently the chief of the party, and taking advantage of tueir halt, Laramie Joe sent a second bullet | down among them with. the effect of killing a savage and wounding an outlaw. * Whoov! that fetched a persimmon, boy!” shouted Rattler; “that shot war a compound dazzler, and I guess Vil see if I can’t pluck a too.” Quickly the unhorsed chief sprung to his feet, | Old Tom Rattler, and seizing the reins of the dead savage’s horse, / Kit,” observed Rattler, wiping the perspiration vaulted upon its back and again led the charge | from his brow, up the knoll toward the three intrepid plains- men. Never moving from his kneeling position, Laramie Joe took careful aim and again brought down the chief’s horse, which accident agein threw the savages into confusion; but this lasted only for a few moments. The foe realized that they were now within easy range of the three deadly rifleman, and to dally was | to court sure death, so, with one accord and without their chief, they thundered on up the knoll yelling like demons possessed. “Crack! crack}! crack!” went the plainsmen’s rifles, and at every discharge a savage or out- law tumbled to the ‘earth or swung out of the ranks to the right or left seriously wounded, The deadly repeating carbine of the Boy Knight and the breech-loaders of the old hunter and de- tective, enabled them to keep up a hot fire in the face of the enemy, nearly every shot taking effect on man or horse. But inspired, no doubt, by their superior num- bers, the savages displayed unusual courage and pressed on, determined upon the death of the dread young Pantherfoot, whom they had never had at such an apparent advantage before, As soon as they were within pistol-shot the three whites dropped their rifles and took up their revolvers, With yells of defiance the savages began throwing their tomahawks and the outlaws to discharge their revolvers. Fast and deadly flashed the weapons of the brave trio almost in the very face of the foe, Up to within twenty feet of them charged the warriors, and then, when it seemed but another step to victory, a wounded-outlaw turned aside with a cry of agony, and his words and actions struck terror to the hearts of his friends, and like panic-stricken sheep. they turned and fled in the wildest disorder and fear. But as they turned, an outlaw, with a muttered curse, fired his revolver at the three ‘brave victors, A gasp burst from Laramie “oe’s lips. He staggered forward, clutching his brow, and fell limp and lifeless to the earth! ‘Oh, Lord!” groaned Old Kit, ‘‘in the midst of victory there is defeat. The poor, brave boy has been slain!” “‘ Great Rosycrusians! I hope not!” cried Old Rattler, hurrying to the’side of the prostrate form of the youth. Joe had fallen forward on his face. Rattler turned him over on his side. A groan cecapert the old man’s lips. _ The handsome, boyish face was all covered with blood. There was adeath- pallor around his mouth, ‘“Yes, Bandy, he’s gone,” said the hunter, feeling tho lad’s pulse; ‘it’s all over with the Boy Knight, Laramie Joe’s dead !” CHAPTER XI. CAPTAIN RACHEL’S ARRIVAL ON THE FIELD. For a few moments Kit and Rattler stood and gazed upon the motionless form of Laramie Joe, a look of sadness upon their faces, “* Yes, the career 0’ the Boy Knight’s ended,” Bandy sa‘d seriously, sorrowfully, . ‘* And itll 50 be with us, too, afore long, for them varmints have drawn rein and are preparing to give us another charge, ‘They’ve seen that our best man’s down and will return with renewed hopes, But then, if I’m to die, die it is; nor do I keer what they do with my old carcass arter the irit’s gone, but I don’t want them. to. mutilate this boy’s, nor they sha’n’t if Tecanhelp, Let us bind his body on bis hoss and turn the animal loose. Them devils have got nothin’ that can catch it.” ** Anything, old pard, anything,” answered Rattler. : > So the horse that had been picketed near be- fore the fight began was unfastened and the sad- dle’removed. Then the body of the young knight was tenderly lifted and placed on the animal’s hack and securely bound there with the lariat, This done, the animal, already frantic with af- fright, its strange burden and the scent of blood, was turned loose, and it at once dashed down the knoll and away across the plain with its voice- less rider, The old plainsmen watched the animal for a ae moments, then Kit turned away, saying Vv: ‘* Pity it couldn't ’a’ been me, Rattler, for I’m gittin’ old and wouldn’t been missed by a soul on earth. This is a queer old world, and full o’ queer things, but_to God all is plain enough, and when He wills it we will foller the A , ‘Tt begins to look as though our time’d come, “Yes, it does; but I’ve been in as close a fix haydoogins o’ times and allers pulled through some way. In. the thirty years of active ser- vice on the prairies and in the hills, among the wu’st men and dangers, savages and wild beasts, I’ve encountered hundreds o’ scrapes like his and concluded the jig war up with Kit Bandy. Scores and haydoogins o’ villains have I brought to justice and to judgment, and did I not know the eend justified the means, I ex~- pect ['d died long ago with remorse for the de- ception, the wholesale h ‘risy, lyin’, cheatin’ and rascality I ames! Me in order to circumvent crime and its. votaries. Buta detective has to resort to these things.” ‘*T ruther think it comes nateral, Bandy, for they say it takes a rogue to catch a rogue,” “If that be true, t, you’d surely make a good rogue-catcher,” responded Bandy, with a grim smile. And thus the two old plainsmen conver ed and badgered each other until they saw three horsemen—outlaws—leave the party on the Loaves and start away in pursuit of the Boy night’s horse. ‘“‘Ha! the devils "ll never catch that hoss,” said Kit, grimly. : ‘“‘Nor will there be another charge on us till them three fellers git back, I reckon, But that’s all the better for us, We can git our persimmon-pickers in good shape.” Carefully the old men reloaded their guns and revolvers, then they slaked their thirst and bathed their brows at the little spring whose waters boiled from the side of the knoll and crept away through the grass and disappeared in the a below. : In the pouch on Laramie Joe's saddle they found some dried venison, which they divided and ate with a keen relish, for they had no breakfast that day. Suddenly, Bandy, whose eyes were ever on the watch, pointed across.the plain far beyond the foe in the valley, and said: ‘Thar comes another horseman, Rattler.” Yes, and hy.the Rosycrusians! it’s a wo- man! It must Captain Rachel, the lady to whom you tumbled so gracefully this mornin’.” ‘And it might be my wife, Sabina, for she are abroad in the Jand, Rattler, and ruther ‘a encounter her, give me a hull brigade o’ red- skins—a rigemint 0’ outlaws.” ** And even if it’s that Captain Rachel, and she’s got her ire up ’bout that affair this morn- in’, and then gits it up still higher when she sees them karki iges along down this hillsid she’ll make it bilious for we old pilgrims, bet her blood’s so hot now the hair on ber head’s pare ly speed th h t a live e woman a and long before. she reached her ra *s Ki and Rattler saw that it was the female outlaw, Captain Rachel, sure erough. he was received by her friends without apparent demonstration. Evidently they were not in a spirit for enthusiasm at that time. Too many of their friends lay stretched along the hillside and writhing in agony around them for rejoicing. e. woman conversed with her allies for nearly an hour, neve: for a moment quitting ber saddle. Finally she turned and rode at a walk toward Kit and Rattler, ber friends re- maining behind, some in the saddle, some on the und, “By the horn o’ old Joshua! she’s comin’ up here, Rat!” exclaimed Bandy; ‘what d’ye s’pose ’sin the wind now?” “‘Deviltry o’ a kind you and me arenot up to, Kitsie, I’m afeard. She may be fi np’ on our havin’ too much robust manbood to strike a wo- man, and intends to take the advantage of her sex toslip a chunk o’ lead through our an~ ztomies. And then, Kit, it may be a mission 0° n ove. ‘« Well, we'll have to watch her closely,” said it, ‘‘ Hullo! see thar, Kitsie Band, she waves a handkerchief—flings to the breeze a flag o’ truce! Do -you know what that means, you old god- dess?—understand that, you old buccaneer?” ‘¢ Means she wants a conference, I reckon.” “Ha. I believe she’s in love with you, is that, Queen Cleopatra and she’s anxious to speak to her Mare Antony.” ; “JT rather think she’d prefer through my heart instead o’ a No, no; Rattler, you need not feel envious—that gal’s not dyin’ of affection for me, She’snorea- son to; ou the contrary, she’s reason, if not a just one, to use all the deception and treachery o’ her wicked heart to kill me, But I may be n’ a bullet pid’s dart. - a Re = - |
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mistaken in her motives in comin’ up here; howsomever, we must watch her every move- ment, Rattler; for she’s liable to fang us quicker’n a lightnin’-geared rattlesuake, and ‘when she does strike it'll be to kill.” CHAPTER XII. THE INTERVIEW WITH CAPTAIN RACHEL. In recognition of the young female outlaw’s flag of truce old Kit Bandy put his cap on the muzzle of his gun and wayed it above his head as a counter flag. This. seemed to satisfy the girl thasw%e would be received in a conference, and she touched up her horse and approached at a canter, finally drawing rein before the old plainsmen, The horse she rode. was not the same one she » had in the morning, but a large and splendid animal with arched neck and clean limbs. The face of the beautiful outlaw wore a min- led expression of disappointment and sorrow. ereyes burned with a strange, subdued light, She seemed worn in body and mind, and when « she drew rein she sprung to the ground, and with a nervous, restless start looked up into Bandy’s face, and then said,in a voice that was not at all the clear, musical voice of Sybil Bell; “Kit Bandy, I want you to know who Iam; ‘you escaped me this morning before I had time to introduce myself.” ‘Thank you, Miss Sybil, but I recognized your voice the moment you spoke,” replied Kit, litely. ‘Then, I presume, you are here to arrest me?” the woman said, in a tone slightly tinged with sarcasm. + Not at all, Miss Sybil,” replied Kit; “‘onthe contrary, our retreat hus been arrested here by your followers,” “Youdeserve to die, Kit Bandy—you shot my fatner,” she said, half choking with a deep sigh. ‘3 I’m sorry that it was necessary to do so, Miss Sybil, but you. know why I did it, I’m sure,” the dotective responded, 2 “Vou played a shrewd game as a detective, but you do not know yet whether vou bave un- raveled the secret of Judge Randall’s murder,” she declared in a self-confident tone, s+ A little more time ‘ll tell, Miss Sybil, and vot there are no doubts in my mind, nor is there au yours.” “1 never know my father had_been shot until last night,” she sail, biting her lip to beep back the grief that scemed struggling upward in her brea t, whi'e tears gathered in her eyes “JT are truly sorry for you, MissSybil, Isw'sr to God I be, for [see you are feelin’ bad,” said ld Kit, his voice deep with emotion; ‘Sand I + admit when IL fired that shot in the Pick-and- Shovel that night, [ never dreamed of you beiu’ Captain Rachel, the outlaw. In fact, ‘had only suspected your father of bein’ the murderer of Judge Randall, and—” And brought that French artist there to help develop what never could have been done other- wise,” the woman broke in, + You are endowed with woman’s wits, gal, I tess,” Ban ly replied; “ but, as I remarked fore, I never prsperter: you and your father Being connected with the outlaws.” “Nor did we ever dream of Rev. Paul Postile being old Kit Bandy, or he would have met the fate of Judge Randall, But this is not whet I ame here for: a messenger arrived from Last Lick this morning, bringing me the news that my father was still alive, but dying trom the ects of your shot, He wants to see me, but I dare not return there—” “Yes you dare, girl; if I had my say-so *bout it, you should go rizht to him and leave unmo- lested, even though you be Captain Rachel.” “ That is a generous offer, but I could not ac- cept it—I will never go back to that accursed * camp of my own free will—no, never!” and she weg emphasis to her word by a. stamp of her oot. “Well, that’s allI could do, even if I'd liberty §o Jo that.” : ‘There is a favor you can do me, if you will,” she-said. “What is it?’ > Carry a message tomy father for me.” . “Miss Sybil, I will agree to do so, providin’ T git outo’ this place with my life; though I must confess that tbings are in a mixed state— * rather peculiar that youshould ask metodo you a fayor, an‘ yet at thesametime your followers are right at my beels seekin’ my life.” “Tn consideration of the favor. I- ask,” said > . “J will give you this horse u which NG ead » is peillly:t ought 10.1 you dead ‘ of helping you.” ise Sybil, as Se ee 8 8 SS SS eS a a SA ee eS. ee ee es Oldfom Rattler. gies to make for what I do, nor am I askin’ any mercy at your hands, I am willin’—~yea, ready to take my chances with my old pard here in lickin’ thunder out_o’ your folks, and yet if I git through all right ll deliver your message to your dyin’ father. I hold no grudge ag’inst you, understand, gal, nor your father. As Cap- tain Rachel, I presume you can command—” ‘That name, sir,” she broke in, ‘is simply honorary—I never ted the men in a single raid on a stage or settler, This is true, I care not what you have heard to the contrary. Itis true, the men, wild, rough and wicked though they be, have shown me every kindness and respect that any woman could ask; but I have not even the power to prevent them killing you if they can, and they are sure to attack you soon, They know that Laramie Joe is dead, end they are now simply waiting the coming of a party of twenty more Indians over in the hills when the fight on you will be renewed, Even if I could persuade the road-agents to let you go unmolested, the Indians would not, So I say to you in all candor, there is but one chance for you, and that is the one I offer.” ‘** And but for the favor you seek through our esvape you’d fang us—help kill us,” said Kit. “Very likely,” was her frank response, given with a sardonic smile, ** But will the red-skins not punish you if you help us away?” questioned Rattler. **T have no fears of them—none at all.” “But if your father dies, what’!l you do, gal? Surely not stay with the outlaws?” “Til take care of myself, nor will I stay with the outlaws. Here is the note to my father. I wrote it just before I came up here. Those mountaineers and red-skins do not know what [ am here for, and they will doubtless pursue you, but that horse is strong and fleet, e will carry you both out of danger. He was the favorite orse of my father; but do ‘you hesitate to ac- cept these terms because I am a woman?” ‘Not at all, Miss Sybil; there’s as much or more in your act for you than for us, else you'd never be so generous.” “* You oe very tru‘hfully, Kit Bandy; I would rather kill you than permit you to go free, and would did I not believe you would keep your promise with me.” “Yes, [ll keep my word with a woman—” ©*¢ Then mount and flee—let us say no mere,” she exclaimed; then turning she walked away in the direction of her friends. ‘“Wal, by the ram's horn o’ Joshua!” -ex- claimed Old Kit, as he ep first at the re- treating girl, then at Old Rattler, “if this don’t git away with anything I ever encountered!” ‘‘Tt area leetle numerous,” averred Rattler, “like the ingredients in Ingin hash; but, by the great goblins! if that woman ain’t a wheezer, a ily-lipped hummer, Satan’s a swine, Man alive! but her fingers did burn—TI see’d the ends smoke —to shoot the everlastin’ enjoyments outen you, Kit. Oh! buc she’s a honey-puddle, a nest o’ yaller-jackets.” ‘Well, what d’ye say, Rat? Shall we mount that steed and skip?” Guess we'd bt ‘1, Kit, for, by the great Rosycrusians! yanacr comes that band o” red- rinds, and if we stay here they’ll make it epi- demick'ly ill-firish for us,” “Then hand up the guns to me when I git on,” said Old Kit, and be swung himself up into the saddle; * there now, give mo your hand, old boy, and step onto my foot and make a spring— that’s it, now here we go!” “ Yos, and thar comes our deestroyers, too,” said Rattler, ‘+ Let em come,” said Kit, as they went flying down the little knoll like the wind, ‘‘ and if they catch us, we can fight one place as well as an- other.” The sight presented by the two old fugitives was as ludicrous and comical as it was exciting, and they fully reslized the fact from the start, themselves. With a readiness, so charac- teristic of the borderman, and that, too, in the face of most deadly danger, they took the humorous side of the situation and appeared to enjoy it. é “T say, Bandy,” Rattler observed, as they sped along. ‘TI know thar’s a splendid sight goin’ to waste just now, ond that’s we too old twin babboons on this ‘ere hoss.” “Yes T reckon we present a splendid pair o’ fizgers on hossback, and. lll bet that zal’s laugh- in’ till she fanzs herself,” : “Tt would be a loud ixe on you, Bandy, if this war jist a slippery little trick o’ her to git we old Mathusilanians from that knob, Isn’t it a good, robust, rosv-cheeked joke, anyhow, to 16S abroad, that Old Karistopher Kolumbvss | detective, I have no apolo- ndy, the great mountain deetective, 11 | Tom Rattler, the wild, untamed tempest, and Red River Epidemic, had to accept terms from an outlaw gal—also a hoss, and shin outlikea pair o’ wild-eyed gamboliers? Speak out, Bandy, and let the winds carry your sad words along the mountains and over the plains till it—” ‘Say, ole man, ar’n’t ye afeard the sun’}l blister yer lungs, talkin’ so much?” asked Bandy, ‘with a smile iJuminating bis face; s’pose ye blockade that gap in yer bead ” “I never git. tired o’ tellin’ the Book-o’-Reve- lations truth, Kit; but say, old chum, glance back over your brawny shoulders and tell me if ye don't think them red-rinds and their friends arn't gainin’ upon us.” Old Kit glanced back, and as he did so, sud- denly exclaimed: ‘*By the horn 0’ Joshua! they are gainin’ on ! ‘less the distance are longer’n it seems,” ‘Think they’re gainin’ a bit, Kit; but then it will be a long time yit before they overhaul us, ‘less this steed breaks down, blame that Rel, an old fcol man can be led arcund by ber ike a bull with a ring into its nose. I'll bet if you git away safe this time that in less’n a week you'll be lungin’ across the plain like a wild antelope, or plungin’ throu, h the bills like a mad Texon steer, a-buntin’ for that gal to fling love stuff at ber. You can’t foolish me on an old ret like you, Pandy.” “TI s'‘pose you’ve Varnt scmething by a cen- tury o’ experience, Rattler, even if a tcngue is all you’ve got in your head,” retorted Kit; ‘““but say, pard, I’ve a notion to swing ¢ id rradually to the left and plunge in amcng them hills and brakes yander.” “You're the. captain o’ this dark, Kitsie, and Tgo whither you sail. Make fcr ary port you wish, for I'm only out on a pleasure excursion for my health.” Kit bore slightly to the left, and in the course of some two hours they entered the head of a canyon trending away toward the southeast, hile we have been but a short time writin of the events that transpired after the firs meeting of Kit Pandy and Captain Rachel in the early morn, it is nevertheless true that their enactment: ran through the entire day, so that when the two old fugitives entered the canyon it was te sunset, At this. time there was no doubt of the fact that the foe were gaining upen the fugitives, and that rapidly, tco. Scarcely eighty rcds separated them, The old borcermen’s horse was fast failing under bis double burden and long, unbroken race across the hot, dry plain. He had. dene nobly under the circumstances, but he had not the endurance of the mustangs ridden by the pursuers. However, the fugitives felt certain that he would hold outa few minutes longer, when they. could safeiy take to the shadows of night among the hills and bluffs that — deeper and darker as they advanced. But in this they were dcom ed to a bitter disappointment. Their herse sud- denly stun:bled, staggered, and with a ccnyul- sive lunge fell dead. Old Rattler was pitched headlong to the earth, Lut in an instant he was upen his feet, to find his cowpanion held fast upon the ground. by the bc dv of the herse lying upon bis leg. “Great goblins! Kit, are you burt?” the old ran exclaimed. ‘No, Rat, but I'm in a vise, sure’n death,” replied Bandy. ; Rattler endeavored to release his friend, but Lis strength was not adequate to the task. “Oh, I'm ekcted, Rat Jer,” Bandy said, wity an air of calm resignation; ‘you'd tetter line cut, old pard, and save yerself while ye ken.” ‘“Rendy, I’m not that kind o? man,” replied Rattler, with a resclute determination written vyon bis bearded face; ‘if you are to die, Vil Cie with you, but I'll paint the sky red before I ro under—here the red-rind demons come, and Tl] go to swatin’ ’em!” He tock up his rifle and sent a bullet crashmg through the body of, a savage, but they were closer than he had suppored and before he could repeat the shot the foe was upon them like so many maddened devils, With his clubbed gun the old man fought like a fury until he was overcome by sheer force and made: prisoner. With Bandy they had little trouble, and re- moving the dead horse from his leg, his hands were bound, and then be and Rattler both were subjected to many cruel indignities by the pack of red and white demons, whose yells, shouts and curses of vengeance made the canyon ring with an infernal din. The victorious pursuers now held a short cons sultation as to their course for the evening. As ponies and Old darkness was upon them then, and their
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12 Old Tom Rattler. about fagged: out, they concluded to stop in the canyon for the night, during which time they could decide on what. disposition they would make of the captives. Not far away, at the foot of the bluffs in the canyon, was an old sod house that had once been the headquarters of a party of buffalo- hunters. Although it .bad been dvserted for years, it was in a fair state of preservation— probably because fire would not destroy it— and its presence there among the trees and bushes being known to Hyena Jim, that worthy led the way to the building after a party had been detailed to take care of their horses and see that they were lariated out to grass. Reaching the old sod house the party with the prisoners entered, when Kid Cole, the outlaw, etn to strike a fire in the center of the ut, an abundance of dry twigs and limbs suit- able for the purpose being found near the door outside. And as soon as the place had been relieved of its gloom an outlaw advanced, and looking Kit Bandy in the face, asked: ‘Reverend Pau! Postle—Mr. Detective Bandy at te recognize me?” ‘Yes, you are that imp of hell—Sonora Steve, that [I had the sublime pleasure o’ liftin’ over Luke Freiner’s bar on the toe o’ my boot,” was the frank, defiant reply of Old Kit. ; ‘** And I am to have the egy of knifin’ you,” the fellow replied, his little snakish eyes oot like beads of fire, while a devilish, Satanic grin swept over his ugly face. CHAPTER XITI. THE OUTLAWS’ PISTOL PRACTICE ON KIT AND RATTLER, Kir Banpy expected every moment to feel a steet blade driven into his body by the hand of the cowardly little Mexican, Sonora Steve, and ‘rhaps such would have been his fate had yena Jim, who seemed to act with authority, not ordered the Mexican to put up his knife and keep cool till all could take a hand in Bandy’s execution. The enemy numbered in all about twenty persons, eight of whom were outlaws. The sav- aoe were an atrocious-looking crew, and seem- half-crazed with frenzy, and for awhile it uired considerable effort on the part off the ‘outlaws to prevent them from tomahawking the captives, he prisoners’ pockets were carefully search- ed, and everything loose about them appropri- ated. Hyena Jim found on ita ba rson the note given him by Captain Rachel. He opened it and read it. A contemptuous smile passed over his face, “Tm sorry to disappoint the young lady,” he said, with a sneer, “but you, old man, will not be permitted to deliver this note. That girl played us a gra & trick to-day in fittin’ you out with the b st hoss in Wyoming, and the first thing she knows she'll find her commission revoked. ID’vealers said a woman ina band of mountaineers was a nuisance.” ‘‘Mountain devilz! you’d better say,” ex- claimed Old Rattler. ‘‘Have it as you please, ol] man,” replied Hyena Jim; *‘ but say, which of you old festers is Kit Bandy?” *T’ve the honor of bein’that lark,” promptly spoke up Old Kit. ‘+ Tid be better for you if you had not that honor,” put in Kid Coie, * for our folks have put a price on your bead,” “9 our worst, thugs, for I can die game,” reto Kit. ‘'T’ve had haydvogins o’ fun saltin’ down sich critters as. you—I’ve filled one bull corner in purgatory with mountaineers.” “Very well, Kit Bandy; blow and bluster now will avail you nothin’, even if you be the trusted messenger o’ our gal captin. But don’t let this note worry you; I'll agree to deliver it myself, Nobody im Last Lick will know but I'm the governor ©’ the territory when I go down thar.” : , . “The brend on your forehead ‘ll give you dead away,” remarked Old Rattler, “for bell’s full and b’ilin’ over with sich branded cattle as you be,” ‘* Se7, where do you s’pect to meet that boy, Laramie Joe, that. got his last sickness this mornin’—’bove or below?” chimed in Sonora Steve, who could not be kept in the back- ground. Bark, ki-yote!” retorted Rattler, “By smoke! they’re gamey terrapins!” de- cla an outlaw. ‘‘Can’t we contrive some way to take.tho snappishness outen them?” * Yea,” replied Kid Cole; ‘s’pose we pin ’em up ag’inst that wall and chaw their ears and pistol-practice, hair off with bullets—have some «ye et aD Pict Kin Cenepthh Bees patie ek es What's the use standin’ ’round here firin’ cheap talk at sich old bardshells as they be?” “ All right; if some one’ll. get half a dozen forked sticks, V1 show you how *5 ‘tack ’em to the wall,” said Hyena Jim. 2 Borrowing a couple of tomahawks of the In- dians, two outlaws went out in search of the sticks requested. Ina short time they returned with them. The prongs of the forks were sharpened, then the captives were crowded against the wall, standing, A fork was then placed astride of each one’s neck and driven in- to the sod wall until the crotch fitted snug against the throat, but not tight enough to choke. Other forks were thea placed over their ankles thus virtually pinning them fast to the wall, sure enough. Their hands were tight- ly bound at their backs, and altogether they were pretty well secured. One of the savages, impatient to put the old captives to the torture, took up a bundle of pine sticks, and setting them ablaze swung the hiss- ing brand to and fro apast the old men’s faces, singeing their hair and whiskers, But not a word significant of fear or pain. escaped the captives’ lips, and so this mode of punishment became monotonous to the savages and the out- laws, and finally Hyena Jim said: ‘*Oh, stop that hair-barberin’ and let’s trim up ears awhile. Them souses 0’ Kit Bandy’s are too big for,the man, anyhow, and we want to see him trigged up afore he goes over the river—stand back there, boys.” The crowd fell back to the opposite end of the long room, when Hyena Jim raised his revolver; and, taking deliberate aim at Bandy’s head, fired. A cloud of dust and dirt puffed from the dry sod wall at the side of the old border detective’s head. A yell burst from the lips of the savages. Hyena Jim was a no pistol-shot, and on examination it was found that. his bullet bad buried itself in the wall within a hair’s breadth, as it were, of Old Kit’s head. ‘t Me throw scalp-knife now,” said a red-skin, and stepping back he took a long, sharp knife by the tip of the blade and flung it at the head of Old Rattler, driving it into the wall so close that the hunter felt the wind of the weapon. ~ A shout of applause burst from the lips of the en, sped ‘his knif t and other savage ‘gra ‘his knife-point an endeavored to alas his skill, but being a tall man, the haft of the knife, as his arm swun forward over his shoulder,struck the low roo of the house and drove the blade through his hand, severing muscles and tendons, and forcing a cry of the keenest agony fromthe unlucky performer’s lips. For a moment the sport was interrupted by this accidert, and before it could be renewed, in fact, the presence of a new-comer Was an- nounced by a sharp, piercing shriek at the door, and an old woman, carrying an umbrella which she brandished above ber bonncted head, bounded into the room and sweeping: down to where Bandy stood, turned and facing the crowd of astounded savages and outlaws, screamed out, in wild, fierce tones: **Tnhuman monsters! stand back! That man is my husband, ungrateful deserter tho’ he be! I have sought him from the eends of the earth, and now proclaim in the voice of injured inno- eehce that I'm his lawfully wedded wife, Sa- bina Bandy, and, please gracious, I'll defend my rights with my life!” » CHAPTER XIV, THE PALE HORSEMAN. For a minute or so the outlaws and ya were somewhat surprised and confused by the appearance of Sabina Bandy upon the scene of action, “That blamed old woman ag’in!” snarled Red Rob, the outlaw, ‘*Oh, Lord, Rattler!” groaned Old Kit, as though the presence of his self-confessed use had added new terrors to his situation, ‘Tm a goner now, old pard.” Sonora Steve darted from the crowd toward the cold woman and made an attempt to seize her by the arm, but the woman eluded him and at the sarig time brought her old umbrella down upon the head of the Mexican with a_ rattling erash. The blow was so stunning that the out- law was brought to his knees, and the maledic- tion that escaped his lips was drowned in the de- risive laugh of his friends. ie ‘Lay yer vile hand on me—Sabina Bandy— will ye, ye vile wretch?” the old woman ‘fairly hissed, fixing her flashing eyes on the outlaw; —_— Sv uu ——-_ ona a — “touch me and T’ll maul the liver-pins out 0? you! Please gracious, I’m a woman of courage and now that I’ve found my hear husba after years of search I'l] not be cheated outen him!” And turning, she snatched the forked sticks from over his neck and limbs and finig them at the foe, then with a sweep or two oi her knife severed her husband’s bonds. : “ Hold on there, old lady,” said Hyena Jim; “youre carryin’ this thing a lectie too tur, S’nora Steve, guard the coor thar, so that old ilgrim can’t give us the dodge. and we'll halter nim up ag’in, and expel his wife, who'll be better off without him if he’s as villainous as she claims.” Sonora Steve advanced and tcok up his posi- tion in the door, his knife clutched in his fingers, As be didjgo, a sound behind bim arrested his attention@but before he could turn something struck him in the back and knocked him half across the room. At the same inst. nt a horse— a pony, with a rider lying upon its back— bounded into the room With a ficrce snort and glowing eyes, and knocking over three or four savages in its mad lunge. And as soon as the animal had passed through the door the rider rose to a sitting posture, a revolver in each band, and opened a deadly fire on the outlaws and savages; and close at the heels of the pony followed eight men dressed in the garb of rancheros, each with a revolver in hata Taken by surprise, the savages and outlaws started back terror-stricken, before the mur- derous crash and blaze cf the raucheros’ re- volvers, : Once Hyena Jim endeavored to rally bis fol- lowers and engage the foe, but bis daring hfe was cut short by a bullet crashing through his / brain. With her characteristic ccomlativeness cld Sabina Bandy dropped her umbrella, threw back her bonnet from her head and drawing a little “‘twenty-two” revolver, cpened (D tke foe, giving utterance to a wild, hysterical scr am at every discharge of the wenpcn. The panic-stricken foe, cut off from the door, made a rush for the open window on the opposite side—crowding, cursing and yelling—tramplug beneath their foe their dead and wounded ccm- rades in their mad endeavors to escape. Fully balf their-entire force fell within the hut, and those that did escape were at once hotly pursued into the night by all the victorious rancherus except the cne on the horse, At the Leginning of the conflict Cla Kit Pandy ick to the side of his friend Rattler and uic aot itibe: and then releasing his bonds, tune to take a hand in the conflict. Just then be caught the first fair view of the face of the ranchero on the borse, and he started back with surprise written on his features. ; he head of the horseman was tied up in @ scarlet bandage, and from his face, that was almost peasy in its a on ototin ehere a tbs of eyes that fairly glowed in their unnatural right- ness, “My God, Rattler!” cried Cld Kt. his locks te- traying the deepest er oticn, that horserran is Laramie Joe, the Boy Knight, or his spirit i” “It can't be, Bendy--” Legan Old Rattler, but be was here interrupted ty the hcrscman, kep- ing to the ground and exterding bis two bencs, saying: perigee : ; ‘So we meet this side of eternity again, dd rds,” It was Laramie Joe in flesh and spirit! But not until the old plainsiren | ad felt the warm clasp of his hand cculd they fully believe the evidence of their own eyer. Then they turned and looked into each otbe1’s face in cc n- temptuous silence. Bandy was the frst to ak, ae I'll be fanged /” was his remark ‘You and another old, old fo I to be sh.t,” was Rattler’s rejoincer Another silence followed that ves broker by Laramie Joe who burst into a yer} ci feugbter “Tsee you folks are scrrev bet centured by my presence here,” the bey said, | “Confused? well, by the horr o 7cslus! itet don’t express it, boy,” replied Bercy iv ayypa- rent disgust. ‘The ki-yotich cvs tereree ef that old buccaneer of the prairie there.” part ‘Lncw cup hd *~ jerked the crotched sticks from his reck Jy» ing to Rattler, “expresses my frelin’s bettan* : words could,” “And I, your wronged: vomy anion. Christo- her C. Bandy,” exclaimed old Sat iva, ¢cmin the front, “can express the hcartlessness your heart in a few words, and I—" | ag “ Don't, Mrs. Bandy,” interrnpted Kit with meek politeness, “there is no time now to setule: = “te
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—_—--- -- meen a our affairs. Just wait till we’re alone, and like a Christian martyr I'll bow down and receive yyour—your blessing.” “ Very well, very well;”-Sabina said, and turning, she walked out of the cabin, to the ap- -parent relier of Old Kit, who, turning to Lara- mit Joe, asked: “How does it come, Joseph, that you’re here alive? The Jast time we looked upon you to-day on the plein, you were deader’n the mother 0’ Adam.” “] dan’t know mysel’, friends, all about to- er tle pelo youth answered, bunt I rt ofi Beht on the plain with tho Indians end outlaws, and then there seemed to have been an end to my career for a while, for the next thing of which I-was cognizant was of lying upon a couch in a house with a terrible pain in my head, When I had fully recovered my senses and recognized those around me as my rancher friends, and recalled the incident of the fight on the plain, felt the bandage on my head, I was ' not long in making up my mind that there was a blank in my life—a skip of an hour, or a day or week, as the case might be. +f n inquiry I learned that I had been car- ried have in an. unconscious state, tied to the back of my horse. The time was about two o'clock in the afternoon when I was released, so that I concluded I must have been carried around by my horse some five hours—that is, if my ride dated from the last recollection I had of the fight on the plain up to my rescue.” * Do’ you hear that, Kit Bandy?” asked Old Rattler with a look of contempt; *‘ do you hear that, great Rocky Mountain detective? Does our old grandmotherly brain. begin to grasp old o’ the truth with the grizzly b’ar hug 0’ a pismire?” - “Yes, great untamed tempest o’ the Red River, I begin to grasp,” replied Old Kit; ‘* it war you who felt the lad’s pulse when he lay stretched on the plain, and it war your rosebud lips that pronounced him ‘dead, poor boy! Nove do yuu, old buccanger o’ the plateau, be- gin to comprehend that you know *bout as ouch *bout a boy’s pulse as a hull lunatic asy- tum?” Old friends,” said Joe in a pacific tone, ‘*I hope you will have no hard feelings about my case, for 1 am satisfied that you did what.you thoucht was right, and for which I am most thankful.” “Oh, no, Joé, Rattler and me’ll not quarrel— we're too glad to meet you alive again; but after you went down in the fight, we made up our minds the demons shduldn’t chop and hack you in case we fell, so we bound ya on your hoss in the most approved style, and started the animal off across the plain.” ‘“*T really did ’zamine your pulse, boy,” said Rattler, ‘and never felt the faintest flutter.” “T oot a pretty hard rap across the head here,” said Joe; ‘the scalp was cut to the skull and bled consideruble. I was also struck by a ball in the stomach which would undoubtedly have killed me but for the heavy broad buckle on my belt.. It’s probable that I got both blows at the same instant, for T have no recollection of receiv- ing either. But just as soon as my friends had restored me to consciousness, rubbed my almost sied lirabs until the circulation was restored, and bandaged me up till I began to feel like my- self again, [ began to worry «bout you folks, I remembered that the last. thing I did remember was of our fight on the knoll; so the boys fur- ‘Nished me that pony ani cizhtof them came with me to look youup, We never expected to find you bere.” ‘oPhanks to that gal Sybi Pell, who furnish- ed us a horse, we got away from the foe and would bxve eluded ’em altogether if the boss hadn't fe'l dead and, fallin’ on my leg, held me re fas«.” ; ao oy yusay that Sybil Bell, or Captain Rachel helped you to escape? ” asked Laramie Joe in sur- rise. - Yes, sir, she did,” answered Bandy. ‘Think she’s all broke up—hopelessly swamp- din a honey puddle o’ love with Bandy,” said Rattler, with a wink. 45 She do’: know he’s a lawfully wedded man. i aw Bue what about Zulima, Joe?” asked Kit. | he’s safe at the Deer Creek “ianch.” _ Good! glory!” exclaimed the uxl detective. ‘ _*Phanks to the kindness of a renegade chief, from the grove where I left her in of a dozen Indians.” escaped = e ; : “Born o Joshua!” exclaimed Bandy, ‘is the jum a-coming? Think o’ tw> acts of gen- y from outlaws the same day in the same Old Tom Rattler. Rattler’s—Doctor Rattler’s—to comprehend the magnitood o’ the thing.” ger ‘* Bandy, s’pose you give’that classic tongue 0’ yours a rest afore you fang yourself,” retorted Rattler. In the mean time the rancheros that had gone in pursuit of the fleeing foe had returned, and with them they brought a stranger, at sight of whom Old Kit Bandy uttered an exclamation of joy, and advancing, took the man by the hand, saying: ‘**Tchabod, old pard, never did we meet under happier sarcumstances. Ilow’ve you been, old chum? Gentlemen,’ and the ol] detective turn- ed to the crowd about bim, ‘ this man is Icha- bod Flea, my old pard of years—one o’ the shrewdest, spunkiest ¢ld detectives that ever wore hair. This critter here, Ichabod, is Old Tom Rattler, and this lad is the inimical Lar amie Joe. Mix up, Ichabod, shake hands all around and make yerself to home and beware o’ Old Rattler.” The little old detective, a man of fifty, with a smooth face, a keen sharp eye, and a mouth wreathed in a quaint expression, shook hands around with the party, speaking in a rather sharp, falsetto voice. After he had spoken to Rattler the latter went over to Old Kit Bandy and looking him square in the eyes, said: ‘Old pirate, 1m ina study which to do, knock the stufiin’ out o’ you or go away out in the can- yon and kick myself stupid, blind, or over mto daho,” “The Jatter’d be no great job,” replied Kit, ‘*but what’s got *te matter with you now? Taken another spel!” “IT sce into a little zavaeo’ yours, old cappy. That man, Ichabod Flea, *s your old Sabina and our old Sabina is Ichabod. Don’t deny it, you hiy-lipped hummer!” Old Kit and Ichabod Flea burst into a peal of laughter. “Ts that true, Kit?” asked Laramie Joe, in surprise and astonishment, *T can’t lie to you, boy, it’s so. That old tue- caneer is hard to foolish, I can tell you, Icha- bod and me’s worked together that way for Sa and years, It’s a clever dedge, you can “And the lies you've told ’bout cach other would swamp a hull missionary society in the brimstone lake,” declared Old Rattler. * Oh, Kitsie, you are a hull outfit, you are.” “Kot, what you been dom’ to ycur hair and beard?” asked Dick Howard, one of the cow- boys. ‘An outlaw fanned me and ‘'my old chum there witb a firebrand. You can see by the stubble-patch on his Adonis mug that it has been shaved by the same barber-ous band, Oh, we war bavin' a royal cntertainment jist_afore ou folks come in; end, boys o’ Laramie Plains, want to say"to you. now, without jokin’, that that man, Old Tom Rattler, is as brave an old bueecaneer as ever sailed this ocean of verdure oyver-—n hull mad-house let loose after the keeper.” The rancheros applauded this ceclaratién, and Rattler acknowledged the compliment in a few well-chosen words, Among the dead outlaws Pandy found the body of Hyena Jim and recovered the Jetter that Sybil Bell had intrusted to bim for her father. The excitement of the nicht having finally subsided, the party made arrangements to re- main there until morning. Guards were posted in the canyon above and below the hut, al- though no ove had any idea the enemy would return unless largely reinforced, and this was hardly probable since they were so far from the haunts of their friends, Old Kitand Rat‘ler entertained their res- cuers until late in the night with one story after another, told in their inimitable and extrava- gant language, that kept their auditors in a roar of laughter, end not until the last one of the cowboys had stretched himself on the floor and laughed himself asleep, did the olf detec- tive and hunter cease talking and he down themselves to rest. ; CHAPTER XV. A TRAGIC DEATH. Kit BANnDY was the first to awake in the morning, and, arousing his friends, prepara- tions were soon made for departure down the canyon. : ; From among the outlaws’ horses. most of which had been left in the ba ds of the victors. te 1 It’sastoundin’, It takesa brain like ' by those who escaped, Kit, Kattler and Ichabod 13 Flea were supplied with. riding horses, and mounting, all started off, their initial point now being the Deer Creek Ranch. After journeying a few miles they came te a spring, where the party halted, bathed their hands and faces, and then breakfasted off the oP one that the cowboys had provided them- selves with before leaving the ranch, Thus refreshed, they continued on, and about noon reached Redmona’s cattle-ranch, Laramie Joe’s re.urn was hailed with pleasure by Zulima Randall, and ber young heart knew no bounds of joy when she learned that the two old plainsmen were safe. Joe introduced her to them, when she and Bandy held a Jong and pleasant conversation. Jack Kirby, the superintendent of the ranch, ordered a fatted calf killed and a royal dinner prepared for their distinguished guests,. who were to remain over until the morrow by the urgent request of the rancheros, And the calf was killed end » sumptuous dinner pre- pared, to which all did ample justice, Old Rattler, by Kit’s request, consented to accompany him to Last Lick with Zulima end Laramie Joe. An escort of three cowboys with pack-horses was also detailed by Jack Kirby to go with the party. As the journey would require several days’ travel, a tent for Zulima anda stock of } rovision were furnished the party from the ample stores of the ranchmen. With these arrangements all made, the party expected to start the next morning; but as there were several hours yet before that time, arrived, the cowboys became quite anxious as to bow they should entertain their guests through the evening. One sug- ~ested one thing and anecther something else. They were wore particular about what they should ¢o ard say on account of Zulima’s pres- ence, Rough as they were, and reugher still as they are reputed to be, they showed the most gentlemanly respect tothe maidcn. Not a word nor ect- wes said nor done that could have of- fended the mest fastidicus, Finally Fred Danton proposed they have a banquet in honor of their guests, and a banquet it was to he, whatever that term implies in a Western cattle-rench, So Fred Denton was. ap vinted master of cererronies, and when night came on, end all had assembled ir one cf the capacicus rcoms of the long scd becuse, he announced the pro- gran-me, which consisted of music, sorgs and speeches. There were three violins in the party, and as runy excellent players. and the entertainment was opened with music hy this trio of instru- rents; and asthe soynd floatcd out upen the air, there was something in its ravishing strains that tcuched a chord in the breasts of Old Kit and Rattler—awakening forgotten memories, and sending tbe blood thrilling through tkeir veins with all the impulsive fervor of youth; and the first thing the party knew the two old men were whirling over the room jn the Biddy mazes of a waltz, to the infinite delight of Zu- lima Randall and Laramie Joe, After the old kordermen had satisfied them- selycs with dancing, and the music had ceased, tle toast, ‘Our Guests,” was proposed, and re- sponded to by Jack Koarby in a very happy speech, for Jack, having once been a lawyer in ‘hio, possessed one of the essential elements of the profession, and that was a “‘ gift of gab.” Jack’s speech was followed by a song, ““ Away out in the West,” by four of the rancheros, and the song was concluded amid genuine ap- la use, ‘ Tien Old Ichabod Flea sprung to his feet and proposed a toast not on programme, and that was, Ss ae Hosts.” He called on Kit Bandy to respond, And pee the old detective came to the front with a bland smile upon his face, and said: “My friends, it affords me pleasure to say that ‘Our Hosts’ are a host o’ royal princes, In the thirty years that ve been rummagin the West, I have messed with the soljer, affili- ated with the outlaw—for policy's sake—donned the paint and feathers of an Ingin, roughed it with the miners, hunted with the bunters and bunked with the coeeoge from the Rio Grande to the Yellowstone, but in none of these canips and bivouacs have I ever been received wi more hosspitality than in the dug-out or sod hut o’ the zane Ap In feet, re ve mo s been an ex onal ‘good place wi or average cca is a rollickin’ oller, and always has a good supply in his larder, But I'm free to confess that the folks o’ Redmon’s Ranch are exceptiors to a'l I bave ever met. That library yander on them shelves, that bountiful sup o’ good things to eat in the \
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14 Old Tom Rattler. store-room, that wash-basin, soap and combs, those. assorted kinds o’ pipes and abundance o’ tobacco—all tells me that the Redmon Ranch- | camp, by the sudden appearance of a woman on men are men o’ intellect.. I know them to be | horseback from a wooded canyon, putting into brave and darin’, for under the lead o’ the | the one they were following. She was recog- — boy that ever hopped, Laramie Joe, | nized at a glance. It was Captain Rachel, the have see’d them tried. To the gallant boys | female outlaw, or Sybil Bell, as we shall know o’ Redmon'’s Ranch—to ‘Our Hosts,’ me and | her hereafter. that old buccaneer, Rattler, owes our exist- ““By the horn o’ Joshua! it’s Cap Rachel!” ence to-night, and language fails me in ex- | exclaimed Old Kit, in astonishment and sur- pressin’ my thanks and deep sense o’ gratitude | prise. to them.” Bandy’s speech was enthusiastically cheered; | Rattler, then followed another appropriate song by the “And look out for a band of outlaws at her glee-club,” after which Fred Danton an- | heels,” exclaimed a cowboy, grasping his trusty nounced this toast: rifle. ‘Kit Bandy, the famous mountain detec- The woman approached the party that had tive’—response by Tom Rattler, the hunter,” drawn rein to await her. coming, A look, half- A slight commotion stirred the little audi- | joy and half-surprise, was upon her handsome ence. A smile lit up the faces of all, for they | face. now expected something peculiarly novel and ‘Oh, Sybil! Sybil!” cried Zulima, as her false interesting. friend rode up, ‘is it possible that we have met Old Rattler rose, and with a hemnnone in his } again?” es and that innate spirit of humor lurking ‘*' Yes, Zulima, and I thank God for it,” re- about his mouth in a faint smile, said: | plied Sybil, in a tone of humble penitence, ‘“*My respected friends, speechifyin’ are not | ‘‘for you more than all others have I longed to in my line o’ business, I am free to confess, yit | see and talk with. Of course you know all. the subject onto which I’m to speak is one so | The friends I see around you have told you all. deep and eloquence-inspirin’ that I can’t he’p | But I am surprised to see Laramie Joe at your but swat it hghtly. It has been my gorg’ous | side alive. 1 heard he had been slain; and you, pleasure to know Kit Bandy personally for two Mr. Bandy, I had fears would never escape the days, and in that time I’ve found him to be an | horde that pursued you and your friend across old wild-eyed rouser. I find he combines all the | the plain.” the party was suddenly thrown into a momen- tary excitement; just as they were breaking ‘“‘It are, by the great Rosycrusian!” added | elements o’ character that war ever repreesent- ‘** Didn’t you intend us to escape, Miss Sybil?” ed in the home-circle, the meetin’-house, the | asked Kit, hall o’ Congress, the insane asylum or the pen- eetenshary (applause by Bandy). I met him “T certainly did, and yet, before you disap- peared from sight on the plain, the Indians under ’bout the samo sarcumstance that a seemed to be gaining on you so rapidly that I hungry ki-yote meets a wounded deer—I bein’ |*»ecame uneasy.” the wounds? deer, 1 hey see’d him stand like ‘It wer’n’t me but the message to your fa- & iriajestic oak, with both hands up, kivered by | ther you were most concerned about, wasn’t woman, a revolver in the hands o’a mas I have seed and—lie like a trooper ferpisad): him on the full retreat— it?” ‘* T admit that it was, and through fear of its war with nim at the | never reaching him, I resolved to go straight to time—and I can bear wifniéss to the fact that | Last Lick and see him, come weal or woe,” his instinct o self-preservation is strong. I have stood by his side in battle, when the air | right along wi was full o’ death-wbhistles, and hearn him cuss the foe's poor marksmanship. I’ve see’d him— ‘A sensible gal, Bandy said, ‘*so come ride h us, We'll cheerfully accept you as one 0’ our party.” * Ag an officer of the law, I presume you will from the brush—in the presence o’ a beaucheful | consider me under arrest,” the girl said, biting woman, his face a honey-puddle o’ smiles and | her lip to keep back the feeling of distress surg- smirks, talk love-stuff like an Ambrosia god. I’ve stood by his side, pinned to a wall by the ing upward in her breast, a Ne T are ot by a darned sight, Miss Sybil. hands of red and white demons, and sass them | not makin’ war on weomin, I know ’bout the in a defiant way borderin’ on suicidal reckless- | éxtent o’ your aco f bein’ the darter of an 0 ” ness. My friends, thar be no diskount on Old | outlaw. Jome right along, and consider your- MA Kit Bandy. Asa mountuin deetective, he’s a | self as free as any - behemoth success—a lily-lip hummer. As “Thank you, sir,” she said, her proud, defiant an Ingin-fighter, he’s a hull litter o’ hyenas and | spirit hopelessly crushed; ‘*I do not merit such a Jersey bullian throwed in, As a fancy trimmin’s, he beats that ‘un the feller | m struck when nations heard entranced, As a center-shot, he’s as good as—I be. As a love | Kit rode at Sybil’s side, and r, with | treatment, nor could I accept of it, were it not desire to see my dying father.” ith this understanding the party rode on, they conversed maker to outlaw weemin, he’s a velvet-throated | about various things. The old detective en- gagger. I (applause), Ie is a Mormon temple, the serenity and calmness 0’ a buzzard hangin’ high above on airy wing. His modesty is like unto that o’ a dreamy Ingin maiden, and his meckness and innocence is like usto that o’ a hull Sunday-school 0 Congo- colored urchins. In fact, he’s as many virchoos as war ever and to sum it all up, friends, a bigger, braver, nobler heart war never crowded into a human | ney, the party rode into Last Nor are these all his noble traits | deavored to draw her mind from her troubles ssed o’ as much piety as | and revive her spirits, but he made little head- 9 aed little impression upon her. broken t. ulima treated her with the utmost kindness —such as is due to one in sorrow and trouble. She made no allusion by word or act that would in any way revive a single incident of the ter- planted in a big grave-yard; | rible past. On the afternoon of the fifth ght thetr soon ck. was breast than that o’ Old Karistopher Columbuss } quiet in the camp. for most of the miners were Bandy.” 4 at work. But the news of their coming soon A round cf hearty applause followed this |'spread abroad, and in a few minntes every one unique speech, and then, after another song, a | was headed toward the Randall cabin. jig-lance by one of the cowboys and another waltz by Kit and Rattler, and the banquet ended with a supper, prepared b cook of the ranch, that would credit to a far more pretentious affair, Finally all retired for the night, a private room having been carefully and neatly fitted up for the fair Zulima. The remainder of the night was passed in quiet sleep, but all were astir early in the morning, and shortly after sunrise the party, bound for | me! es, good-byes” | and dar am/Miss Sybil; but ob, poor chile, I’se Last Lick, were in their sadd were Said, and the journey began. Laramie Joe, with Zulima at his side, took the lead, with Ki escort of rancheros with the pack-horses bring- were attended with no excitement, and would have voted monotonous by men who love ex- citement had it not been for those two jolly old As the cavalcade drew up before Zulima’s home Old Deborah, her old colored friend and the colored | servant of years, reacbing back into her baby- ave been a} hood, came running from the cabin, her hands up, and one cry after another pealing from her lips. * Bress de Bete Lawd in heaben!” she shout- ed, and she clapped her hands, and then rushing up to Zulima, cla: the maiden in her embrace, ‘ Bress. der Lawd, for sendin’ my chile back to Oh, honey, bow weary you look, chile— sad, sad news for you!” ““Is my father dead, Deborah?” cried Sybil, a t+ and Rattler next, and the | wild, distressed look upon her face. “Yes, he is; he died jist few hours ago,” re- plied the negress. A shriek burst from the girl’s lips, and she sunk sobbing to the earth. Y Kit and Zulima went to her side, and spoke words of hope and encouragement to her. By this time the whole population of the town had assembled at the Randall cabin tocongratu- late Zulima on he safe return, and her rescuers for their noble work. } “a, at Ads = Ris <a Sas awe th i en | ee a —— a | After Sybil had recovered from the shock she had sustained by the sad news of her father’s. death, she expressed a desire to look upon his | remains, ) Deborah led the way to the door of the room wherein the body lay dressed for burial on the morrow, and Sybil passed in. Those outside heard a wild, piercing shriek come from the room, then there was a long si- lence which was suddenly broken by the spite- ful bark of a pistol and the fall of a body in that chanrber of death. ‘“My heavens, Kit!” cried Laramie Joe. “ There’s something dreadful happened in there!” “‘ 1m afraid so, lad,” replied Bandy. Together the two rushed into the room and found their worst fears realized. Sybil was lying on the floor, a smoking derringer still clasped in her hand, motionless— dead ! “Poor child!” sighed Kit, a tear glistening in his eyes, “it’s all over with her and she’s at peace.” CHAPTER XVI. THE CONCLUSION, THE tragic death of Sybil Bell threw a gloont over the spirits of the miners of Last Lick, and. noone felt the force of the blow more than Kit Bandy—not that he felt a guilty chee but because the force of necessity had brought such a dreadful result through the exposure and. death of her father. As soon as the excitement of the hour had subsided Old Kit hastened to the Pick-and~ Shovel to see his friend Laclede, the French artist whom he found fast recovering from the effects of his wound. Shortly afterward, Ralph Hatton, the Vigi- lante with whom Kit had spoken on the night of the tragedy, called at the tavern in compan with two others of the Vigilantes to converse witha the detective and pay over the reward offered for the apprehension of Judge Randall’s assas~ bil, “Mr, Bandy,” Hatton said when they had been seated, “i presume you are entitled to the reward for the detection and bringing to justice Randall's murderer,” ; “Then all Last Lick is satisfied that Bell ia the guilty pers eh?” replied Kit. «Pall satisfied,” responded Hatton, ‘* Did he make a confession?” “Yes, a short time before his death—when he saw be must die, he confessed that he had mur- dered Randall, and that his true name was Zandt, and that he bad been the leader of the outlaw band known as Captain Rachel’s band. He said Captain Rachel was his daughter and the. title of ‘captain ’ was only honorary —tbat while she was a queen in the respect and obedienceshe commanded of the outlaws, she bad never led them on a single expedition of oa Zandt admitted that at the time of Randall’s murder he had no intention whatever of ab- ducting Zulima, but it seems that one of his men had seen Zulima and become greatly en- amored with her beauty and resclved to pos- sess her; and rather than try to win her by fair means he resolved to abCuct her at once, and ave Zandt to understand that be must have is assistance, and as Zandt knew of his being a desperate man, having a full knowledge of his—Zandt’s—crime of killing Randall, he could not refuse him. To allay suspicion they ar- ranged that Sybil be abducted with her. rks- dale, the scoundrel that wanted Zulima, and three confederates lay concealed in the moun- tains near, with extra borses for the captives, waiting for an opportunity to kidnap the girls. Of course Sybil was let into the secret, “Well, they’d waited some two weeks when at last Laclede’s entertainment scemed to prom- ise the desired opportunity to strike. Zandt at- tended it simply to allay suspicion, but it would tter for bim, bad had he stayed away. He had been so worked up over the remarkable skill of Laclede that he could not control his emotions when, after so gooda picture of Judge Randall had been produced, as be fully believed, from his clairvoyant reve- lation, the artist declared that he would reveal the face of the murderer; and in a moment of excitement he drew his revolver and fired &¢ | the artist.” . pe ad | ‘Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Bandy, “it war ex- have been | pected when the idea o’ that war en away when the time come, but we never ed he’d shoot.” —_- hai2 “ But would the Frenchman really have drawn his Gar asked Hatton, _ ie Sat a | that Randall’s murderer would give himself —
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3 “ 3] me 1 ae 6 ** Then he does possess clairvoyant powers?” ‘Bout as much as you and rm replied Bandy. You see, me and my pard, Ichabod Flea, have been at work on this case ever since. the death o’ wi Judge Randall. 6 gathered circumstantial Slowly, and step by step, evidence that pointed suspiciously to’ards Major Bell. I cannot tell you now how we worked the case up, for it’d take me a week to give it in detail, te in- the and then it wouldn’t be very restin’, But when we'd simmered thing dewn to Bell the next would be to con- vict hin on the chain of evidence we had. We knew he stood deep in the affections and esteem of Last Lick and that any mistake on our part Ww v hi st al c. ould bring judgment upon our heads, So e began to figger as to how we could make m convict hisself, and im our ramblin’ ’round through the hills we stumbled across the artist, Laclede, Then the idea o’ the entertainment rack me and so I took him into my confidence ul laid the scheme before him. Bein’ in for iventure he jumped at it like a toad at a fly. Then I furnished him with a portrait of the judge that I'd got from Detective Drew; he practiced on it till he in disguise he came to ot it perfect, and then ast Lick and as a fes- tive ‘bummer’ laid around two weeks studying the faces and features of Major Bell and Zu- lima Randall, and when he concluded he’d got them well in mind, he come back to the hills ar fo WK ia then he sailed in, hi st 11 practiced ou ’em, goin’ back to camp every w days to refresh his mind and compare stes, In this way he got the faces of all three pretty fair shape for off-hand drawin’s; and We banked considerable on 3 ‘clairvoyant powers’ workin’ on the super- ition o’ the miners, and givin’? me a hold on the public mind that would enable me to take in 8 ft ps = Lava | pl =... water, head felt forward on his time to bring to bear in court the chain of cir- cumstantial evidence I'd linked together. More- over, P’'d expected after bis arrest, that a few ore links would be found to make tho chain ronger. But, to sum it all up; the fellow’s own tilty conscience give him away, and he has 1kl the penalty with his life. And now, gen- tlomen, I want only one third o’ the reward; I ent Laclede to have the balance, for he de- ryes it. Génius should be rewarded, especial- iy when it gits its arms shot half off, as did the i'ronchman’s.” “* All right, Bandy, that just as you say,” re- ied Hatton; ‘* you have won the reward by a | little bit. the slickest scheme I ever heard of. But say, have you any idea what object Bell had in murdering Judge Randall!” ‘No, sir; I must confess I hav’n’t, but I s’pose he told you, didn’t he?” * Not a word. He had just come to that int in his cohfession and asked for a sup of The water was given him, when his reast and he never breathed again.” “Horn o’ Joshua! you don’t tell me?” ‘We had hopes, however,” continued Hat- ton, ** of Sybil disclosing the secret in case of her return, but now that she, too, is dead, I pr rosum@ it will go down to the grave with them, unless, perhaps, some time we may get the secret from some one of her confederates in crime.” On the day following her death Sybil and her father were laid at rest in their graves. Whatever the girl’s th art in her unnatural fa- er’s crimes, her untimely death was mourned by all the camp. Zulima Randall now found herself alone again with old Deborah, but however great had been her suffering—hbowever greatly she _ had been sinned against, out of it all came a noble reward in the friendship and love of our hero, Laramie Joe, the Boy Knight, who in af- ter years became her protector, her idol, her al i% Kit Bandy and Ichabod Flea, as well as Old Rattler, remained several days at Last Lick, the honored guests of all the camp, but, finally the three departed together for new fields of conquest, and when and where the old “ buc- cancers” may turn up again, we know not but we can rest assured that men: of their im- pulsive and adventuresome spirits are not like- ly t rémain idle, and there is»no telling how soon they may ‘Bob. up serenely” in another great drama of the Wild West. THE END. y . . Beadle’s Dime Librar Eerie oy muses bicaaciaiaiee ® 117 Dasuine Danpy By Major Dangerfield Burr. 10¢ ao 118 Tue Buna A bn Ett un a { x 119 ALabaMa Jor. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr..... 1 ; A nee By Gone Soeeelant pa ES re 120 Tar Texan Sey. By Newton M. Curtis, 10e 8 Kir Carson, Jk. By Buckskin Sam......... 10¢ | 121 Tae Sea Caper. Ey Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 10c 4. forttamiscen. Be Pellingo Avan. 26 Wc | 122 Sau Sappmrpay. By Ned Buntline . 0c Fee Aine Fiesta, By A. P Mortis... 10e | 128 ALAPAHA, Tae Squaw. By Francis Johheon, 10 6 Winpcat Bos. By Edward L. Wheeler . 10¢ | 124 AssowauM, THE AVENGER. Francis Johnson. 1c 7 Deatu-Norcn, tHe Destroyer. Oll Coomes.. 100 fan 5 ha ae Cortas s RB nda ao ite ; 2 nalaipreee By Samuel aoa mb alrci ae ‘te 27 Sou Scorr, THE Masxep MINER. By Badger. 10c 10 Vinocg, THE FrEeNcH Porice Spy. By himself. se 128 fey baa eae a By the author of Re ’ S PMAN ELAS p sv Cg Ty y ee Tie, 3 2er, . } 1 duos Ease, by Capt Maryath 4 “100 | ap atest Moun By Faward Wilett..... 106 138 Parnaway. By DrJ. H. Robinson.. .. . 1ue | 180 Captain Votcano. By Albert W. Aiken, 14° THAYENDANEGEA, TRE Scourar. Ned Buntline, 10c | at eg 3 Sam. 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FOR scHooY Sen, 1 6e BS inclusive. AK te 85 Wepular SPialogues and Dramas in each book, piBITIONS gt HOME EN? Each voleame 1080 iRme pages, “ve pcet-paid, om receigt of price, TEN CENTS. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St. N. Y. These volumes have been prepared with especial reference to their availability for Exhibitions, being adapted to scboois and parlors witt @r without the furniture of a stage, and suited to SCHOLARS AND YOUNG PEOPLE oi every age, both male and female Ghat no other books in the market, at any price, contain so many useful and available dialogues and dramas of wit, pathos, humor and sentinent, Young America, For three males and two femaies, Josephine’s Destiny. For four females, one male, The Folly of the Duel For three male speakers, Dogmatism. For three male speakers. The aa Confounded. For two boys. Dime Dialogues, No. 1. deoting sfeod Muses. For nee ontnig tadtien. Baiting a Live Englishman. For three Tasso’s Coronation. For male and sed ‘ashion. For two ladies. The Fast Young Man. For two males. Pho cohoammal For six bo: The Year’s Reckoning. Twelve females, one male, Which will you Choose? For two boys. The Village with One Gentleman, . Foreight femaies The Queen of May. For two little girls. and one male, The RoeParty, or four ladies. ee ae bree Scenes in Wedded Life. For male and famais ifrs. Sniffies's Confession. For male and female. The Mission of the Spirits, For five young iadies, | gen ntnany ¥ For lve kers. Seoret of Success. For three speakers Dime Dialogues, No. 8. The Genius of Liberty. Two males and one female, Yinderella or, the Little Glass Slipper. Doing Good and Saying Bad. .For severe! characters, GL, : NEE ~ Af fl t Wy), Tf V/, A hd B ——— > ss Lom SIALOGUES iis RRADLE ASD ADAMS, 98 WILLIAM STREET, N. ¥. General Dime Beok Publishers, erat cee rar aaron nna ELSE 1 It is fair to assum —— we The Golden Rule. For two males and two temas, The Gift of the Fairy Queen, For several femacéd, Tairen in and Done for. For two characters Country Aunt’s Visit to the City, Several charactea™ The Two Romans, For two males. the Characters. For three mates The appy Family. For several “ animals” The Rainbow. For severa] characters. How to write “Popular Stories For twe males The New and the Old. For two males. A Sensation at Last. For two males. The Greenhorn. For two males, The Three Men of Science. For four malea, The Old Lady's Will. . For four males: The Little Philosophers. For two little girig, How to Find an Heir. For five males. The Virtues. For six young ladies, A Connubial Eclogue. The Public Meeting. For five males and one femal The Enylish Traveler, For two males, Dime Dialogues, No. 3. The May Queen. For an entire school, Dress Reform Convention. For ten femaies, Keeping Bad Company, A Farce. For five makes. Courting Under Difficulties. Two males, one femaxa National Representatives. A Burlesque. Tour male? Escaping the Draft. For numerous males. Tbe Gentee) Cook. For two males, Mastermece. For two males and two femalen The Two Romans. For two males, The Same. Second Scene, For two males. Showing ths White Feather. Four males, one fextal,. The Battly Call. A Recitative, For one mais, Yor ten or more persons. @. For three males and two females in ; Paik fo and Charity. For three little gir - Darb and Joan For two males and one sete FA ™he May. A Floral Fancy. For six little girls. The Enchanted Princess. 2 males, several f Honor to Whom Honor is Due. 7 males and 1 female The Gentle Client. Several males and one female, The Frost King. Start: Phrenology. A Discussion. For twenty males. The Stubpletown Volunteer. 2 males and 1 female, A Scene from “Paul Pry.” For four Charm: “ ¥ a i