Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 123) (1879 12 02)
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a Ne -_ VI, Gy Lae TN v sin, [pa Lallalllally| © Peed mo f = _ ; AX aK . \ \ \ \\ 1 A ” SNA, NAMI TRE = ae +a re ‘Pabetiters Sara 9 EG PELE A NN ORR bo Hae _f x ba aaut n A Mase Vt DV Ki Kl li ll lS a AN $2.50 a year. “A Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., as Second Class Matter. . Copyrighted In 1879 by BEADLE AND ADAMS. December 2, 1879, Single PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, ol. V. Number. No, 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. No. 123. THE WHITE MUSTANGER; KIOWA CHARLEY Or, Rocky Mountain Kit’s Last Scalp Hunt. 6s. mwa. CO... EARBAU GE, AUTHOR OF ‘' NICK 0’ THE NIGHT,” ‘‘ HIDDEN LODGE,” ‘‘ NIGHTINGALE NAT,” ‘‘ DANDY JACK,” ‘KIT HARZFOOT,” ETC., ETC. oN ~ ~ SSS ; Hy ise Pareto) Rar ae ah eT pus rp itet COX Nt A, < mare ae cas v4 oa 25S ; _ - — Fe y fell: se rand - 5 a —_ ee NE RIT wt _ “GREAT JEHOSAPHAT! THUNDER AN’ LIGHTNIN’! DEATH—GHOST—OR DEVIL!—WHICH?” OLD KIT CARSON EXCLAIMED!
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S Charley, The White Mustanger; OR, Rocky Mountain Kit’s Last Scalp Hunt, BY T, C. HARBAUGH, AUTHOR OF “NICK O’ THE NIGHT,” “‘ HIDDEN LODGE,”’ * NIGHTINGALE NAT,” ‘* DANDY JACK,” “* KIT HARE- Foot,” ‘ MIDNIGHT JACK,’ “ OLD FROSTY,’’ Etc. CHAPTER I. THE CYCLOPEAN MUSTANGER, A coLtD November night on the banks of the ' portuous Wichita. : ' Dense, dark clouds skurrying across the disk ef a brilliant moon, and dropping snowflakes earthward in their eager journey. : A long'stretch of timberless land covered with enow; a cold north wind, and. a colder river rushing through the night. : Presently some strange looking animal emer- ges from the water, and appears upon the dreary scene, It shakes itself like a dog as it gains a firm footing, and the moon, for a moment visi- ble, reveals a horse and his rider, alone on the river’s bank. ; The man is clad in buckskin; his fringed leg- gings are drenched, the cold blast whistles by and shakes his hair long and straight, like an Indian’s. : He sits his horse, like a Comanche born to ride, and holds a long rifle carelessly across the brass- mounted pommel of his Mexican saddle. Tall and shaped like a Kiowa, he might have been mistaken for a warrior of that wily nation- but he was not. _ He was a white man, but the climate of many Indian lands had tanned his face; he was the best trailer, the grandest fighter, the greatest scout that ever crossed the ange cong es For him to appear alone on the banks of the Wichita almost within rifle-shot of miles of sav- age wigwams was no rarity. He had ridden into Sionx camps unattended and alone, had ridden out again, but with the scalps of their test warriors at his belt. He rode whither- sooever he pleased, now along the banks of the Cimmaron, now through the death infested passes of the Rocky Mountains. He had faced the snows of the great West for forty years. His hair had turned from black to gray on the war-path; but he still carried the vigor of youth in his limbs, the ardor of his first trail in his heart. A keener eye was not to be found in the Indian lands of America; a dead- lier rifle never rested upon a saddle. Need I name him now? . The reader ere this has recognized that prince of ee ng the king of the plains, the hero ef heroes— Kit Carson! “There’s nothin’ here for a fellow to see!” the scout said, sending his gaze across the snowy lain that stretched ahead. ‘‘The snow has ivered up every trail, an’ it’s so deep that a wolf couldn’t track a stinkin’ Kiowa. This is ruther discouragin’. What do you say, Santa Anna?” Kit passed his bronzed hand through the long mane of his horse as he spoke, and dashed a large quantity of water upon the snow, The animal, recognizing the familiar voice, turned his head and looked into his master’s “ A cold swim for nothin’, eh?” said the scout. “That’s what yer big eyes say,” and he patted the stead’s arched neck. ‘‘I’d like to see suthin’ before we take to the water again. The boys hev missed us ere this; but they got used to our eer ways long ago. Not a buffler! not a iowa! ell, hoss, we’ll turn tail upon this worthless land!” / With an inward malediction upon his fruit- less reconnoissance, Kit turned toward the river. ‘“‘Tt’s all humbug!” he said. ‘‘Taos Pedro hicd—just like the rest of his greasy race.” But as the fore-feet of Santa Anna touched the rushing tide, the old pathfinder turned quickly toward the north and gathered up the reins. “ Buffler!” he cried, significantly. ‘‘ No; mus- tangs!” ; The next moment Kit Carson had returned to the place Lar Sa rember and his ears were filled with the well-known tread of a herd of mus- tangs. ““Curse it all! Thar might be agrand catch!” said the scout, glancing at the empty lasso-hook attached to his saddle. ‘‘Pepito needs a new hoss, an’ I’ll get im one, if old Level Best does | her duty!” The night air was clear and winterish, and Carson heard the rumble of the countless hoofs long before the herd greeted his eye. ‘*Thar’re more’n two hundred!” he said. ‘*No- body seems to be drivin’ ’em, either. <A reg’lar stampede, mebbe.” Santa Anna knew what was coming as well as his master, and his long ears, stiff, but bent a little forward, told that he was Pane to pit his powers against the leader of the herd. On, on, came the galloping host; Carson sit- ting upright in the saddle with a cocked rifle in his hands. The lines had fallen upon Santa Anna’s neck. ‘By Jove!” suddenly exclaimed the famous scout, in tones of admiration. ‘* Every one’s a ictur’!” and he dropped his rifle to look at the autiful herd sweeping forward through the moonlight that fell upon the snow. But all at once, a startling cry fell from the old man’s lips, for he saw that a rider had sud- denly appeared upon the leader’s back. This horse was a king of his species, graceful, swift; and as white as the snow over which he galloped. When Carson’s gaze first encountered him, he had-no rider; but while the scout looked, a man came into life upon his curved back. ‘* Mebbe Taos Pedro didn’t lie after all,” old Kit. murmured, looking at the strange rider. ‘But, there’s flesh an’ blood about that fellar! Vi test it to my satisfaction.” The famous rifle flew to Carson’s shoulder, and he looked over the long barrel at the spirit that sat the white mustang with the airiest grace. Several seconds passed. “T could; but I won’t! ’Twould be unfair,” suddenly said-the borderer. ‘‘He’s got a good horse; but I’ve got a better one! Now, PU see whether Taos Pedro told the truth. If he did, ll pat his greasy back an’ say: bravo! bravo!” The rifle dropped from Carson’s shoulder, and his right hand gathered up the lines. The plunging herd was now abreast of his position ut one hundred yards away. It was still sweeping toward the south. A word to Santa Anna and a dash over the snow told how eager the horse was to try his speed against that of his bridleless brethren. With his eye fixed upon the man on the white mustang, Carson swept over the white plain like an arrow. “Not a whimper! We want to take him un- awares!” the scout said to his horse. The distance between Kit and the herd could not but lessen rapidly, for his horse scarcely seemed to touch the snow as he went over it. He bore down upon his prey like the Bedouin bears down upon the unsuspecting caravan. As he dashed along, his hat blew off; but it fell no further than his horse’s back, where it danced airily at the end of a leathern cord. “The simpleton doesn’t see me,” Kit ejacula- ted as he gained the rear of the drove. ‘‘ He’s dressed just as Taos Pedro described; only he’s had his hair cut lately. By the Stars! no com- mon man ever rode so grandly! But, he’s a devil for all his good ridin’; T’ll bet my leggin’s on that.” The mustangs greeted the scout’s horse with many whinnies of welcome; but Santa Anna never returned a single one. Like his master, he kept his eyes ahead of the herd. Dashing around the flank nearest him, Kit Carson drove down the side, and all at once crossed obliquely before the gang. The white horse and his rider were bowling over the snowy plain a hundred yards ahead, and the eager scout soon traversed this dis- tance. ‘*Hold on, stranger!” shouted Kit, as he leaned forward in his strong stirrups, now al- most alongside of the unknown rider. ‘*Tech yer line, an’ let’s get acquainted. Yer a new man in these parts. What! won’t ye stop? By jingo! [ll have a squint at yer face, if I don’t git to exchange words.” There was no reply; the stranger kept on with his face, shaded by a monster Mexican sombrero, turned stubbornly toward the south, and from the moon. Kit Carson could but feel astonished, and his arm shot forward as the last words dropped from his tongue. An instant later his hand fell heavily upon the unknown’s nearest shoulder, and, quick as a flash, it whirled him half-around on his sad- e. *“*Seuse rudeness, stranger,” Kit said apolo- getically. “I want yer phiz squar’ in the moonshine, fur then I— Great Jehosaphat! tanger. thunder an’ lightnin’! death—ghost—or devil?— which?” Kit Carson dropped back from the body he had grasped, his face as white as the November snow, bis eyes staring like specters from their sockets! ‘ His action had loosened the unknown’s hat, and, pop hee a mass of hair suddenly re- leased had ge to the <houlders. But this was notall. It was the face that startled the old Indian-fighter. ; Face? There was no face! What Carson i saw was the likeness of hideousness, From the temples to the chin there was noth- ing but a white plain, unrelieved save by a single eye that blazed in the center of the forehead! I say that Carson the fearless started from this monster, _With his cry of ‘‘death—ghost—or devil?” ringing out upon the frosty air, he released the shoulder and wheeled his steed. ‘**Great heavens! Old Taos Pedro told the truth for once!” gasped the scout, spurring his horse beyond the mustang lines. ‘‘ Where did that creature spring from? He must belong to that terrible race of bein’s that Fremont says existed thousands of years ago. No mouth! no nose! no cheeks! only a devilish eye! By the stars! he shail not live to people this land with such as him.” Carson was recovering from his fright. He had halted beyond the herd still plunging on The demon cyclop was sitting the white mus- tang apparently in the manner that the scout had turned him. He was still within rifle-shot when Kit raised his trusty weapon. But he lowered it as suddenly as he had thrust it against his shoulder; and without a word turned his horse’s head toward the Wichita. “Kit Carson, yowre a fool!” the old fellow said, addressing himself. ‘‘Sech critters ar’n’t born in this fair land; it’s a freak o’ nature; but the durndest one I ever heard of. <A figure that’s got muscle, an’ shape, an’ youth, an’ beauty o’ limb; but sech a face! By my best youre! I’m goin’ to know all about that terrible ellar. Kit Carson, you an’ him hev got to be- come acquainted before you leave Kiowa land. I’m not svared now; but I didn’t expect to see —nothiv’ ! Ha! hyar’s the Wichita. The river, no doubt, was a welcome sight to the old scout, and once more the faithful horse, breasting the icy current, carried his master across. Beyond the water again, Carson galloped moodily away; but his disturbed countenance told that the mustang fiend had strangely im- pressed him. CHAPTER II. PEPITO AND HIS EARS. “ AR’ thet you, Kit?’ Carson heard these words as he descended in- to a basin-like little valley that seemed entirely shut off from the world above and around it. It was several miles from the Wichita river. The middle of the basin was cast in shadow; but here and there, on the sides of the hills, lay ghostly patches of moonlight. The questioner came forward with the last words still upon his lips. He was a tall man, near Kit’s age—then fifty- six—and was clad in the buckskin garments of the plainsman. e rifle which he carried cocked across his arm told that he had been on guard. The next instant the men met and kit leaped from his horse. ‘“‘ How’s the Seraph?” he asked, quickly, and with much anxiety in his rough uncultured tone. ‘Not much better. He’s been fidgety an’ restless ever since you went off. All at once he jumped out o’ his Be. an’ axed me ef I didn’t ear suthin’! ‘No, you little fool,’ sez I; ‘go to sleep an’ quit dreamin’. But he shut his eyes, and shammed sleep. Presently up he flew ag’in, an’ swore that he heard a gang o’ wild hosses. But Ole Experiment pulled ’im back, an’ threatened to swallow ’im if he didn’t keep still. Queer proceedin’s, thinks I.” “What a keen ear that young ’un has!” Car- son said to himself. Then he looked at the gaunt man before him. “Did you hear anything, Simon?” ‘* Not even a cricket.” ‘But the Seraph did!” What?” ‘* Hosses.”” ‘** Honest Injun?” “ Yes. ” Simon Brane looked down nonplused.
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** Queer!” was all he said. Carson smiled faintly and laid his broad hand on Simon’s shoulder. ‘‘ Boys like Pepito hey wonderful ears,” he said. ‘‘T allus noticed it; so don’t grow jealous of the Seraph, Simon. Is he asleep, now?” ‘* ef he isn’t, Ole Experiment hes |got his eye onhim. You kin bet on that, Kit. But what aboyt the hosses?”’ "Not now, Simon,” Carson answered, mov- ing away. ‘'I want to look at the rest o’ the camp, first.” Not far from the spot where the scout encoun- tered the guard, he came to a halt. He still held the bridle-rein of the horse he had ridden across tho river. He was now in the center of the basin, and no sooner had he halted than several figures rose from the ground and stood before him. They, too, were, with one exception, men like Simon Brane. The exception was a boy about fourteen. He was small for his age, but exquisitely mold- ed, and very handsome. His face, in the sun- light, was not white; it had the soft mellow tinge of the Creole. He had a pair of eyes that glistened like stars as they went through their restless dance in their sockets. His hands were small and shapely; and, on the whole, he did not disgrace the name which the great Indian- fighter had bestowed upon him. This strange youth was Pepito, or the Seraph. He sprung agilely to Carson’s side despite the quick effort of one of the men to intercept him, and the strong arm of the old guide swept pro- tectingly around him. ‘Did you hear them?” Pepito asked, looking up into Carson’s face. “ Ay, saw ’em, too,” was the response. The Seraph threw a look of triumph into the faces of the men. * How many do you think there war, boy?’ asked Kit. * About two hundred,” ** Thet’s good guessin’, ed ’em.” “No! Pepito could not because he did not see them. He counts by sound, sometimes.” Kit looked with a feeling not unmixed with awe upon the youth whom he regarded in the light of a phenomenon. ‘* An’ did you see the leader o’ the herd?” “No! Pepito heard; he did not see.” a“ Ah !” Carson then pushed back the long locks that slustered about the Seraph’s temples, and looked at the anxious men. ‘‘T saw some hosses,” he said, ‘‘an’ some 0’ the best ones that ever gallopped over grass. An’I said to myself, ‘ef we were on a hoss trip what luck we’d hev!’ But I never tried to catch one, because we didn’t come to this kentry for stock.” ‘‘Thet’s business!” ejaculated one of the rough listeners. ‘‘If we’d’a’ wanted hoss we’d hev stopped upon the Arkansaw. I’m a leetle out o’ my deestrick; but a publick eddicatur hes the hull world fur a school-room, Thet’s what Fremont’s flower-hunter used to remark. No, sir! we don’t want hoss; but we want h’ar. Ole Experiment has spent half his nat’ral life in teachin’ the Injun that this existence is one 0’ the onsartinest things that ar’!” Carson listened to the grotesque individual who, as Old Experiment, was known at every frontier post beyond the Mississippi. He always spoke with an earnestness that bordered on the judicrous; and never failed to close a speech with the last sentence we have just heard him utter. “‘ But to come back to the present,” Kit said with a smile, as Old Experiment concluded. ‘The snow has covered up all trails, ’ceptin’, of course, the one the mustangs made. We’re not far from the Injun towns. They’re over onder—jes’ under the bluffs—whar they hev een for fifteen year.” ‘* An’ the scholars ar’ waitin’ for the teacher!” said Old Experiment. ‘ First class in spellin’ stan’ up. Spell de’th an’ destruction!” ‘Hold on thar!” cried Simon Brane. ‘‘ You ole fool, we ain’t Injuns. Don’t call the class up till it’s before you. Mebbe somebody else *sides the Kiowas will git to spell death before we git back to the Arkansaw.” “Thar’s a world of truth in that remark,” Kit Carson said quietly. ‘“‘We ought to be movin’. I’m rather anxious to get down to business. What do yousay, my boy?” But Pepito did not reply, and when the old puide raised him he burst into a langh. The little fellow had actually fallen asleep leaning against his lover and protector. * He’d do usa powerful sight of good ef he’d You must hev count- SS take to sleepin’ all the time,” said Old Experi- ment, tartly, with a glance at the boy. ‘‘ When he is awake he goes on about a sister what nobody thinks he neverhed. Asfor me, I never let my life work of eddicatin’ the Injun interfere with other affairs. Now, while I war teachin’ the Sioux—” ‘* We'll take the rest o’ that arter awhile,” broke in Simon Brane to Old Experiment’s dis- gust. ‘‘The boy is all right. Kf I hed them ears 0’ his’n— Thar! they’re at work ag’in!” The eyes of the quartette were fixed upon the Seraph who had suddenly sprung from Carson’s arms, and was listening, full of ex- citement, with his face upturned toward the tops of the ghostly trees. ‘*Tt’s coming fast!” he half whispered. ‘‘ There may be more than one, Kit.” The old guide was at the boy’s side. ‘* What is it, Pepito?’ ‘* A wagon!’ “Thar’s a specimen o’ acute hearin’! A wagon in these parts! Why, the Fort Sill road ar’ more’n fifty miles away.” “That will do!” said Kit, throwing a com- manding glance at Old Experiment, and the otesque educator smothered the sentence orming on his lips. Silence fell over the little camp; itsoccupants were listening intently. Kit and his grown companions were non- plused, because they heard nothing; but the strange boy continued in the attitudeo f one listening. Atlast Santa Anna pricked up his pointed ears. “Thar!” cried Kit. ‘‘I told you so. The hoss confirms the Seraph. I've ridden the crit- tur fur ten year, an’ he never played Ananias once; he don’t know how.” To mount and ride to the brow of the hill from whence a view of the moonlit plain above the bottom of the valley could be obtained, was but the work of a moment. Kit Carson did this, leaving his companions to follow him as quickly as they could. Once on the upland, the unmistakable sounds of a wagon thundering along were borne to the scout’s ears, “Tt’s a government consarn, because every top an’ bolt ar’ loose!” said the guide. ‘* An’ In- juns! just as I suspected.” ‘‘Injuns? First class in spellin’—” “Yes, Injuns. They're rivin’ that wagon,” interrupted Carson. ‘They must be two miles off. This is one o’ them wonderful nights thet would carry a cricket's chirp across the Wichita.” There was no reply, for the party of scalp- hunters on the hill was listening to the-not un- musical sounds carried to their ears by the frosty air. Above the rumble of the wagon rose the wild shouts of the red drivers, and the crack of the teamster’s whip. Carson’s eyes flashed fire as he listened. All at once the rumble ceased; but the yells continued. ‘*Broke down!” cried Simon Brane, looking at his leader, and at the same time snatching up the reins lying on his horse’s neck. ‘No, not that, Simon, They’re fordin’ the river, that’s all. In five minutes we’ll hear ’em on the old Kiowa trail.” Sure enough, before that time, the roll of the wagon was resumed, the cries, and the shot-like sounds of the whip. ‘*T’'d like to do a bit of missionary work over thar,” muttered Old Experiment, with a sigh. ‘Them Injuns don’t realize thet this world’s but a fleetin’ show. They want Ole Experiment to teach ’em.” Kit did not seem to hear the garrulous fellow ; he was listening to the tumult on the Kiowa trail, across the river. “The fiends have spilled blood gettin’ that wagon!” he suddenly cried. ‘Thar ar’ four hosses, an’ only four thet I know of, thet kin keep up sech licks so long. And by the best years 0’ Kit Carson’s life, ef they tech one 0’ the women thet usually ride behind ’em, eve blade o’ grass in Kiowa land shall be red when leave! We can’t catch the wagon now; no use thinkin’ about thet, boys. But we kin do suthin’ else; we kin see it come into the Kiowa town!” A moment later the old guide and his com- panions were crossing the valley of the camp, and, ascending to the table lands that rose above it on the south, they galloped away, the famous scalp-hunter of the Rockies well in the lead. CHAPTER II. KIOWA CHARLEY. THe rumbling of the wagon and the savage ells greeted other cars besides taose that first eard them in Kit Carson’s camp. . ’ ikiowa Charley, tlle White Mustanger. 3 Not far away stretched a long live of rude wigwams that constituted one of the largest ie dian villages in the South-west. It was distant not more than three miles from the valley camp, and the November wind blowing toward it could but carry the startling sounds down the snowy ‘‘street” before the skin-closed doors. The Kiowa town seemed to stand in what had once been the bed of some river. There wens high tree-covered banks on two sides, and om the summit of one—the one nearest the Wichita —there was much chaparral covered with snow. In the weird moonlight every lodge might have been counted by a spectator on either ridge. It was down this See or river-bed that Custer once charged at the head of the Seventh Caval- ry; but that was long after Kit Carson had let his last great trail. It is to this spot that we now convey the reader, The north wind, we have said, carried the yells of the wagoners into the Indian town This was true. The sounds, not uncommon ones in that country, did not disturb the tenanteé of a single wigwam. If a wakeful Indian heard, he anath- ematized the young bucks, and turning over tried to forget them and the cold in sleep. But there was one person in the Kiowa vil- lage who heard, and he, despite the biting olast, stood hatless in the snow before one of the lodges. His face, bold and handsome, with a pair of viercing eyes, was turned toward the north. His hair was long, black, and silken; it lay on his broad shoulders after the manner of the affected frontiersman. In the moonlight one would have taken him for a half-breed, for his skin was dark; but there was not a drop of In- dian blood in his veins. He was well, even fan- tastically, clad, and a pair of Mexican spurs at the heels of his moccasins, told of a ride just taken, or, one to come. : We guess the former. “Curse the hot-headed fools!” fell from his mustache-hidden lips while he listened in the wind. ‘They carried out their resolve and struck Fort Sill trail. Now here they come with their prize, a government wagon, and twe span of Uncle Sam’s mules!” The speaker was angry, for he grated his 4 and took two elegant revolvers from his “Td just like to empty these daisies among those cutthroats!” he said, looking at the weapons. ‘I. could do it, too, and nobody would dare touch me. I’m master here, just as much as Santanta and Flying Crow. T haven't killed an Indian since | corraled the twenty Snakes, and tried my hand at Indian heads at thirty paces. Hurrah! they’re coming up the valley now.” The young man—for young he was—had taken a step forward asif he intended to meet the yelling red-skins, when he was startled by a touch. ‘*Charley?’ He turned and stood before a figure that would have reminded a romantic observer of a fairy. Small, beautiful, with eyes that gleam- ed like little stars, and with a hand, mellow im color, and faultless in shape, a girl stood before the youth in the snow. “Staria! you'll freeze to death here. back before your bed gets cold. I’m going wp to see the young red thieves come in. Curse their pictures! they’ve been plundering sround Fort Sill. Black Mustang promised me that they would not gothere. Theliars! You can’t trust them, girl. Go back, and go to sleep again.” ut the Indian queen hesitated. ‘“You’re afraid I'll mistreat Black Mustang; isn’t that it?’ he said witha smile. “Tl not touch the rascally liar, although well he deserves an application of moccasin. Come, Staria, Vu take you back.” He caught the girl’s arm, but she broke gent- ly away. ‘Kiowa Charley can go and see the young bucks come back!” she said. *‘Staria will go te the bed she left when she heard him leave his lodge.” ; ‘“That’s sensible; you’re a good reply, and the mustache touche beauty’s cheek. True to her word, the Kiowa maid turned away, and Kiowa Charley, as if to make up for lost time, went rapidly toward the end of the irl!” was the the brows village. ¢ The bounding wagon, although still unseen, was not far away, and just beyond the last lodte that steod at the northern end of the town, the * young man took up his station.
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” “ — FORCED ARETE He stood in the shadow of this terminal wig- wan, his J eta back in his belt again, but cocked, and his splendid figure thrown back as if for a. spring. The moon, now at its full, was flooding the . snow with silvery light. All at once the returning party greeted Kiowa Charley’s eager eyes. “Here they come! the skunks!” he flashed. ‘* Heaven knows bow much blood that wagon hascost. Sheridan will think I have broken m ledge when he hears of this. I pledged myself for the Kiowas’ good behavior for one year, and here, scarcely three months afterward, the greasy villains make me outa liar. By Jovel they’ll have to restore that wagon intact. Tll make them take it back to Fort Sill if I have to drive them every mile at the muzzle of the re- volver.” Kiowa Charley fairly trembled with the in- dignation he could not suppress. nother moment and the foremost animals were almost abreast of his position. He could have seen the twenty young Kiowas who flanked and followed the team, but he did not. “Great heavens, it is the old major’s family wagon!” fell from the watcher’s lips. ‘ Every Indian ought to be shot from his horse.” Then a figure sped from the shadow of the last wigwam, and the next moment Kiowa Charley was upon the lead horses—his mocca- sined feet planted firmly upon their backs! He did not shout to the eisgnen, horses; he stooped, seized the strong leathern lines, and rising quickly jerked them back. The effect was startling. The leaders forced upon their haunches collid- ed with the rear span, and the heavy wagon thundering up against these in turn, formed a confused heap. But Kiowa Charley had carried his point: he had stopped the team! And that almost before the thunderstruck In- dians could recognize him! “That’s the way to stop a team!” he said, se of his feat, as he whirled upon the young loods. ‘‘Now not one word out of your mis- chief-making mouths. You couldn’t come back decently and in order, if you did go away in that manner; but you must play highwaymen and get the United States army after you. Hold on there! not an Indian is to leave till ’m through with him.” The shamefaced bucks pempees they saw tho asi of the pistols clutched in Kiowa Charley’s n “You have stolen the team of no ordinary man. This isn’t Whisky John’s wagon: you didn’t find a gill of the accursed stuff in this vehicle. Tell me where the guardis. Just asI expected: you killed somebody to get the m ' Guilt and shame were visible in the looks of the young braves, They moved uneasily on their steeds before the deadly pistols. “Where is Black Mustang?” “ In there!” was the reply and the dark hand of the speaker pointed into the wagon. “Done for, eh?” ejaculated Kiowa Charley, and bounding agilely over the backs of the hind- ermost horses, he looked into the wagon. The canvas cover, used to shelter travelers from storm and sun, had been stripped off; the bows stood bare. At the bottom of the bed a stalwart Indian lay on his back. His very position told the ctator in a moment that he was dead. The pe ky gis darker than the skin, on his fore- ead, told the story of somebody’s unerring aim. ““Dosed with a’ Minnie!” said Charley, turn- ing away with a single look. ‘Woman kill Black Mustang!” said the In- dian who before had spoken. “A woman—Major Lincoln’s wife? miscre- nal What have you done with er The yellow Kiowa had wheeled upon the mounted group, and the heavy revolvers point- _ed straight at their half-exposed bosoms. “Speak! You haven’t lost your tongues if you have lost manhood. Open your mouths! quick! now! or by the spirits of Kiowa land Pl pe you all by death. Where is Mrs, Lin- coln? Fear opened the mouths of the almost pale ..Kiowas. They saw the deathly gleam in Kiowa Charley’s eyes; they noted the fingers that touched the easy triggers. ‘‘Squaw wasn’t in the wagon. She as big fort, It was the girl that shot Black Mus- tang.” : ** Bessie Lincoln? So much the worse, devils! And you have killed her?” : Kiowa eka sy ’ jaad fV 22a errr er Kiowa Charley saw that they were not de- ceiving him. By one bound he landed in the vehicle. ‘** There’s a broken board in the floor.” “* Hole?” sententiously asked the Indian. “ Yes.” ‘Girl fall out, then.” Charley gritted his teeth till they cracked, ‘*T ought to kill every fiend of them,” he hiss- ed. ‘* But that would do no good.” Then he looked at the young bucks again. ‘‘ When did you see the young girl last?” “Two—five—ten mile back.” “That’s definite, but it’s Kiowa correctness.” He was once more upon the backs of the lead horses. “I want you Indians to take care of this team till Icome back. If you fail to doit, Pll see to it that this village has more funerals in one day than it ever had. I mean business, and the kind that kills, too. You'll see Han- cock or Sheridan here before the snow leaves, and all for your villainous work. By heavens! if you’ve harmed a hair of Bessie Lincoln’s head, Kiowa Charley will do some of the tallest shooting ever seen on the plains. She isn’t my sweetheart, that I take it so hard. I’m an outlaw, no better than you dogs in some re- spects, but woman’s woman the world over, and ou touch a white one to stir the blood of harley, the Kiowa.” He was on the ground when the last word fell from his lips. ‘Whirling Hawk, come with me,” he said to a young Indian. ‘‘ Now,” to the rest, ‘‘ take a teain away. Injureit in any way, and I'll ill! He flew down the line of lodges before the Indian addressed as Whirling Hawk could dis- engage himself from his companions. ew bounds brought him to a large struc- ture that looked like ashed. Butit was covered with heavy bark and skins from the tip of the roof to the ground. There was great impatience in the sweep of his hands as he tore the curtains aside. ** Midnight?” A whinny came from the darkness within, and the next moment a splendid black mustang, large, strong, and formed for flight, sprung into the moonlight. Another whinny beyond the threshold of the Indian stable told that it was still inhabited. “‘Stay there, Morning! I’ve got my horse,” said the Kiowa King, and, as the curtain door shut, he swung his supple body upon the back of the black. “Now, Hawk!” he said to the Kiowa who hadcomeup. ‘‘ We’re going to find the girl. You drove down the old trail?” Whirling Hawk nodded. “Then away we go!” The mustang shot forward witha great bound, and a stout hair bridle which Kiowa Charley drew from his bosom was adjusted before ten rods had been traversed, 2 The twain soon left the wagon and its obedi- ent drivers far behind, and as the last lodge was ined, a cry that seemed to come down from the chaparral on the ridge above the village, made Charley turn his head. : But he did not tighten the rein griped loosely in his hand. He merely cast a glance over his shoulder and said: ** When I come back!” What did he mean? CHAPTER IV. SHOT IN THE EYE. THE young bucks did not breathe freely until they saw Kiowa Charley and his red compan- ion flying from the village. They seemed re- joiced to be relieved from the flash of his keen eyes and the menace of his formidable revolv- ers. Although his threat to kill, if he found not the team intact on his return, had been made with a smile, it had a certain effect. A few of the Kiowas conducted the team to the great square of the village, and sullenly prepared to guard it till his return. By this time a goodly portion of the Indian town was aroused. The Kiowascame pouring from their lodges to learn the cause of the rattle of chains and wheels at that hour, so near their rude domi- ciles. | The guard was soon surrounded and plied with questions. But they were as cautious as | | | ii a er aes ey ment, the command had gone forth that the Fort Sill trail should not be molested. Santan- ta did not want to encounter such Indian-fight- ers as Hancock and Sheridan. After Charley’s departure in search of Bes- } sie Lincoln, the young bucks had agreed that | the truth about their raid and its results should be concealed as long as possible. Therefore, before reaching the square, they removed the rigid body of Black Mustang, and concealed it, as they thought, without having been seen, in a lodge belonging to one of their number, Thus when they halted the team in the square, they were prepared for the interrogatives that poured in upon them. “They’re keepin’ suthin’ back. I kin read on their painted faces that they are stringin’ lies just as fast as their tongues kin go. The idee thet they found thet team runnin’ loose up by the North Fork is too thin to take! Tl bet my claims on the old Comstock thet they struck the Sill trail somewhar. They’re lyin’ to keep old Santanta off ’em. Wal, the chief ain’t hyar, lucky fur their hides. But whar’s Kiowa Char- ley? The speaker, a tall and powerfully built man, stood apart from the main crowd in the square with his giant hands resting upon his hips. He was a white man; but his face was dark. He was dressed in a jacket of greasy buckskin; and pantaloons of the same material were thrust into a pair of dingy boots. A leathern belt at his waist contained a pair of heavy pistols, one at each side, while upon one hip rested a knife whose enormous sheath indicated the dimensions of the hidden blade, Beneath the slouch hat crushed upon the head of this worthy, glittered a pair of eyes full of cruelty and hate. There was much of money cunning about them: they seemed to dance with evil desire when the name of the young outlaw fell from his lips. ‘* He can’t be at home with all this racket in the town!” continued the giant. ‘‘If he is; he must be with the girl. First, I'll go an’ see, vari then Tll get at the bottom of this Injun yin’, Turning rages’ the speaker went down the. thoroughfare o Indianland. The whole Kiowa land knew this man, Quartz Dick was a person who was not to be fooled with. His life had been full of thrilling adventures. He had carried it ona trigger through twenty mining districts; had been ung by vigilants in Texas, and shot by Sitting Bull in the North. His great fists, brown and hard, looked like lumps of quartz; hence his name—Quartz Dick. He killed wherever he went. Quick with the gens vindictive, and a man of few words, is quarrels always resulted in death. He al- ak shot his man through the right eye! s walk, when he was in a ‘nde was a strange swagger, and such it was as just before dawn he pushed through the Kiowa village. ““Mebbe she’s Ws on the squar’,” he said to himself, halting su re He stood before a | ge in the snow, before which, if he had looked he would have seen a a ied that would have done credit to a airy. But Quartz Dick was not hunting footprints in thesnow. He wanted their maker. Laying his tawny hand on the curtains he parted them and looked in. . Darkness greeted him—darkness and silence. “ Little one?” he called in a low tone. There was no reply. . . ‘‘ Jest what I expected!” he said. “I was a fool to think thet she'd be hyar when there war such a kickin’ up in the town. It is settled thet she ain’t at home. I’m not so partic’lar carin’ about her jest now, only I like to know what Kiowa’s up to. The boy’s gainin’ a wonderful foe ov late, an’ I'll hev to doctor his eye, will!” Satisfied that the lodge was untenanted, Quartz Dick moved away. “By my bloody knife! ther’s Little Buck. Now T’ll get at the gospel part of this hoss an’ wagon business.” In turning from the lodge he had whirled upona person who seemed to have been watcb- ing his movements. That individual was a young Indian, and he did not stand more than en feet from the giant. : An agile spring landed Quartz Dick before the Kiowa. y ‘‘ Hello! Little Buck!” ejaculated Dick. ‘‘Tak- in’ a walk in the ’arly mornin’, eh? Thet war a ’ ‘ ) ahs. rien
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Kiowa Charley, the White Mustanger. good wagon you brought in. Did ye hev any trouble gettin it?” The young savage did not reply, but gave his | harsh interlocutor a look of well-feigned amaze- ment. ‘Tt looks like a private vehicle,” continued Quartz Dick; ‘t belongs to some officer, I s’pose. Did‘any ov you get hurt in the tussle?” Then Little Buck opened his mouth. “Little Buck just got up,” he said. ‘‘ Heard wagon go by; an’ just goin’ down to big place to see.” A strange smile flitted across Dick’s bronze face. ‘You've all school,” he said. you to desart yer principles fur jest one moment an’ come down to solid facts. thet team?” Struck full in the face as by a fist with the question, the Kiowa staggered back. Quartz Dick followed him, his right hand resting in a decidedly threatening manner upon his hip. Little Buck thought of the oath taken by him- self as well as the rest of his companions. “You've got a purty eye, Injun!” said Dick, altering his tone as he fixed his flashing orbs full in the Kiowa’s organ of vision. ‘’T would be a pity to spoilit. Jest think how you’d like to knock at the door of the big lodge over thar, with only one eye, Jest consider it fur a min- ute. There was no mistaking the murderous threat ily. concealed by the bully’s words. rave as the young Kiowa was, it almost paled his cheek. “You don’t want to go thet way, I see, so I set you down fura sensible Injun, Now, how did you get the wagon?” Quartz Dick stood before the young buck ina seemingly careless attitude. Both arms were now akimbo; but his right hand touched the butt of one of the pistols. Little Buck’s eye was in danger. Therefore, he did what any sensible Indian in his situation would have done. He told the story of the capture of the team. The evil eyes of Quartz Dick dilated when he heard the novel but striking description of Bes- sie Lincoln’s beauty as it fell from the Indian’s ps. ‘But whar is she now?” he asked eagerly. ** Lust.” “Lost? How?” ‘Fell out wagon.” “ Tied?” rT; Yes.” “Curse yer greasy skins’, she’s lyin’ some- whar on the snow at the mercy of the wolf!” ‘Kiowa Charley find ’er, mebbe.” “Ob, he’s gone to hunt her?’ ‘*Him an’ Whirling Hawk.” Quartz Dick did not reply. “ Another gal’s come on the scene,” he said to himself. ‘‘She must be purtier nor the little one. The young blood will go to her. I, ha! ha! We’ll have to have a tussle for this lost angel, an’ somebody ’ll hev to get shot in | the eye. From what Little Buck says about her, poe purty enough tobe Major Lincoln’s gal—that- old red taped salve thet giv’ me two hours to leave Arizona two year ago. member now that he had a little gal with ’im at the fort.” These thoughts made Quartz Dick’s eyes spar- | kle. “Whar do you think you dropped her?” he said suddenly to the Kiowa. “ Don’t know; but not far back.” ** Charley will find ’er, He’s gone after her for me!” The last sentence made Little Buck open his eyes. of Now, nothin’ about this, Injun!” admonish- ed the bully. ‘‘I’ll keep yer secret from San- tanta.” The young Kiowa, glad to be released, went off breathing freely once more. He put his finger to his right eye, to assure himself that it still performed its functions. ; As for Quartz Dick, he moved rapidly to- ward the northern confines of the village. ‘* Tl see which hoss he took,” he said stopping suddenly in front of Kiowa Charley’s stable. Opening the door, he called: ‘“* Morning, my boy?” A responsive whicker rewarded him. . “Good! He's got the fastest horse,” he said, turning away. ‘He'll be back soon. Ought to be comin’ now.” Just beyond the last lodge, in the identical spot where Kiowa eee had waited for the wagon thieves, stood the burly figure of Quartz Dick, listening for the sound of hoofs. tended the same lyin’ | ‘Now, Little Buck, I want | How did you get | So will | | like to see Kiowa and this new beaut T re- | ee It was now the darkest hour that precedes the dawn; and a half-naked figure was creeping from lodge to lodge upon the white man. When it rose, two revolvers covered the bul- ly’s figure. ** Dick!” The giant turned. Something leaped from his belt. There was a report—a fall! Shot in the eye! CHAPTER V. HOOF AGAINST HOOF, “THAT'S the way to settle ‘em!’ muttered Quartz Dick, turning composedly from his vic- tim, now staining the snow_with his blood, but lying quiet and motionless, like a corpse. ‘I’m the best eye doctor in this kentry. Now Td what he’s to bring hyar fur my ’special benefit, I can’t see anything,” stooping and looking anxiously over the snow, “‘ an’ bless me! ef I kin hear a hoof.” The bully of Kiowa land began to grow im- patient, and at last, as the first long arrows of dawn shot over the eastern horizon, he turned from his fruitless vigil with a wild, mad oath, “He’s gone further nor he expected,” he said, consolingly. ‘“‘Mebbe he found the gal, and kept right on—no! he wouldn’t do that; Char- ley’d bring her right hyar—for me!” Quartz Dick, in moving away, came upon his victim, The body was cold and rigid. Only one eye stared at him. You feared Quartz Dick would tell Santanta, eh?” said the ruffian, looking at the corpse. **An’ so you came back to pop his tongue. Poor Injun fool! The man what fools with me goes up yonder with one eye in a very unpre- sentable condishun. An’ what makes it the ae provokin’, it’s always the eye they shoot with!’ The body of the unfortunate Little Buck had fallen behind a lodge. Quartz Dick drew his knife and cut a long | gash in the yielding texture of the wigwam, into which he thrust the corpse. ‘*Tt’s the old fever lodge,” he said to himself. ‘*Nobody ever looks into it. There isn’t a Kiowa in the land what would poke his head inside for a bar’l ov whisky.” His victim disposed of, the bully moved away, confident that no one had witnessed the deed. But on a spot where he would have looked last for witnesses three pair of eyes had seen every thing. But let us return to one of the most impor- tant characters of our romance. Kit Carson had a certain admiration for Kiowa Charley, and despite good reason he cheered that worthy as he and Whirling Hawk left the Indian town to find Bessie Lincoln. It was this cheer, choked off before half fin- ished, that caused the young man to look over his shoulder at’ the chaparreled ridge and mur- mur: ** When I come back.” “That’s the second time I’ve been a fool!” the old guide said, looking at his companions who were staring amazedly into his weather- beaten face. “The other time war when I cheered Cheyenne Simon when he whipped the Pawnee chiefs. The consequence then war thet I got took, an’ came nigh losin’ my h’ar. Now my enthusiasm hes got the better ov me ag’in. Til hev to watch myself. Kit Carson’s gettin’ old, boys; but he’s young for all that, in some matters.” Looking upon the valley below, the old scout saw Kiowa Charley and his companion pushing toward the North. The two horses seemed to fly over the light snow. “Yes, yes! the gal—the major’s pet! that’s who they’re after!” suddenly cried Kit. The next moment he stood beside his own fleet horse. “Stay hyarbouts till I come back!” he said to his comrades. ‘‘'That precious couple down thar sha’n’t touch the major’s angel ef Santa Anna an’ old Kit hevn’t forgot their cunnin’.” He was in the saddle now, and before Old Ex- periment could reply and hold him back by some of his quaint observations, Santa Anna was dashing through the chaparral as if he knew the mission of his master. A short gallop took Kit Carson to the level country below, and with a quick upward glance as if bidding his companions adieu he tightened the strong buckskin girth, ‘ Thar’s the sweetest gal on ‘arth at the end of the race!” he said to Santa Anna. ‘The country’s level an’ no chuck-holes, We've got to save ’er, for she’s the major’s little one—old 5 snow. It was now near dawn. Kiowa Charley and - his companion bad disappeared; but Kit knew that they would keep in the road. The eagerness of the white Kiowa to reach the girl somewhere abandoned to the wild denizens of the plain almost exceeded Carson’s. Upon the back of a magnificent black horse Suproprigtely named Midnight, he went over the ground like an arrow. Whirling Hawk kept up as he could, but the black fresh and eager, soon left him behind. “phar they ar’! burst from Carson’s throat as gaining the top of a little rise he saw two moving objects far ahead. As yet his pursuit was not noticed. What would the twain do when he was dis- covered? There were two against him. Hedid not want to take life at that time. Before starting he had vowed to himself that he would not shed Kiowa Charley’s blood. As for the Indian—a Kiowa’s life was of no importance! The Rocky Mountain guide did not seem to notice the odds against him as he bowled over the plain with his rifle—Level Best—in its ac- customed place, and his keen eyes fixed upon the dark specks ahead. He saw day break, and distinguished Kiowa Charley from his scarlet companion, All at once the Kiowa sprung erect upon the back of his lusty mustang, and shading his eyes looked far ahead. Kit’s eyes sparkled, To shoot an Indian in that position was to send him into the air in a royal summerset while, his horse passed under him! But even if the old guide wished to perform that feat, the distance was too great. Carson had removed his hat long before, and it was hidden in the bosom of his hunting jacket. “They’re gettin’ anxious!” he exclaimed. acces thinks they’ve gone far enough. So te) Old Kit now drew a small dirt-discolored bag from the place where he had deposited his hat. Diving into the recesses of this, he produced some soft tert which he hastily rubbed over his face. Then his hands were served in like manner, and when the unused paint returned to the little sack, Kit Carson looked like a veritable Indian hunter. His hair, long and straight, had been further Indian-fied by a brief application of his hands. There were even rings in his ears! *Pve played Indian from the Yellowstone to the Rio Pecos, but this is the first time V’ve tried the Kiowa game,” he said witha light chuckle looking ahead, He saw that while Whirling Hawk stood erect: on his horse, Kiowa Charley had slackened his gait. But Santa Anna had kept on. without cessation, thereby raining time and ground, “Phe gall the gall” is 5 These words fell startlingly from Kit Carson's ips. He did not see the subject of his long ride; but he knew that she was near, Whirling Hawk, the Kiowa, erect on his horse once more, was pointing ahead, and Kiowa Charley standing beside him, but on his own magnificent steed was looking eagerly for- ward! “‘ Now strain ev’ry nerve, old fellar!” Carson said to his horse, stroking the heated neck. “Bessie Lincoln is the prize—Bessie the beauty ov the plains!” Santa Anna seemed to gain new mettle at Carson’s command. “Thar! they’ve looked back for the first; time!” This was true. The distance between the guide and Kiowa Charley and Whirling Hawk was less than a mile; he thought he could distinguish the puz- zled expression on their faces, Was he really an Indian to them? ‘*Who is he, Hawk?’ the white Kiowa asked as his scarlet guide came riding up to where he had partially halted, ee k like Indian, ride like Indian; but—” “Go on!” “ Horse looks like—” I “ Old Kit Carson’s! I know it! We saw him last summer on the Arkansas. He wants the ei gre Lincom. Are you afraid of him, Ww “What should frighten a Kiowa?” “True!” answered Kiowa Charley with a
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6 meer, the girl plainly now, and she sees us, You’ve yot = Kin of the Plains to deal with. He ased to dandle me on his knee—old Kit Carson aid. Unhorse him if you can, Hawk; but if you must—kill him! yes, kill him!” Kiowa Charley set his teeth madly behind the last word. ; The young Indian nodded, with flashing eyes. ‘‘Mind you, Hawk, he’s up to every Indian trick on earth. But circumvent him if you van!” The speaker turned his head away. A figure cast in silhouette against the snow fay away retained his gaze. A pair of arms were waving over the head of the figure; there was something like a flag in one of the hands. Kiowa Charley bore down upon this object— known now to him as Bessie Lincoln, Leaving Whirling Hawk to take care of Kit arson, he did not look behind any more, Meanwhile the Hawk started on again at slackened speed; but he no longer sat upright, a target for the long range unerring rifle which Carson had carried for thirty years. He had fallen to his horse’s side with one leg thrown ever the neck, and one hand—his left—griped about the girth. The Indian’s eyes were fixed upon the scout’s horse, his rifle laying along his | own steed’s side, ready to finish the most event- fu) career of the plains. For Whirling Hawk had no intention of sparing Kit Carson. He longed to send a bullet erashing through his brain! But the famous guide was not to be seen—not even by the keen eyes of the Kiowa. A easual observer would have thought that Santa Anna was riderless; but the Hawk knew tha¢ he carried his master still. Kit Carson could ride a la Apache, as well as a le equostrian. Whirling Hawk bit his lip in vexation. Was Carson watching for a glimpse of his tufted. head? All at once a puff of smoke parted Santa Auna’s flowing mane, and something very like a man fell from the Indian’s horse! “The Hawk could not restrain himself; he had to shoot,” Kiowa Charley said. Impelled by curiosity he looked back. To his right a horse was careering wildly over the plains, while another—as black as the tireless animal he bestrode—was descending upon him with the velocity of a bomb! “Great heavens!” gasped the young white Kiowa, “‘ Kit Carson did the shooting—not the Hexk. Gods! he’s got his ores on the girl. He dou’t seem to see me! Bnt let him get her—if Re van !” Kiowa Cheer turned and ve the spurs madly into Midnight’s rowels. ‘The fair girl now plainly visible had stopped waving her bsmds. She stood in the midst of the snow, white, prayerful, full of fear. Old Kit, once more in ie was riding like a tornado; Kiowa Charley not a whit alawer! it was now a test of speed between two of the best horses on the plains—Midnight aud Santa Amma. CHAPTER VI. WON BY A SORATCH. i Tue scene presented to the gaze of the terri- fied young girl, speechless and white faced in the open plain, must have been thrilling, not- ‘withstanding the peril that attended it. The exciting events that were crowded in the ‘ ~~ twenty-four hours were still present with The attack of the young Kiowas upon the wird of the wagon conveying her from Wichita penne to Fort Sill; the heroic struggle of the swoidiers, their tragic death, her own stubborn defense, her —— her unwilling ride toward the Kiowa village, and her ag fall from the vehicle—all these events h happened in.a very short space of time. Sne had fallen bound from the wagon, and bad barely esca intense; the strong north wind found every part of her frame. Fortunately the tures about her ankles ielded with little effort, and at last her hands eame free. vligut was her first thought. She started back over the plain trail that stretched before ber in the moonlight. On, on she went, reso- wrely facing the piercing blast, praying for sulety. ; jessie Lincoln kept on until her limbs re- fos further effert. Fort Sill was many miles 4, av: tchen sho reflected she knew that day- . + “¥ leave you to circumvent him. Isee | being trampled to death by the horses that followed.. To her the cold was | / light would find her on the plains with no wel- come arms in sight. It was with the first appearance of light that the tread of horses fell upon her ears. Then she saw three dark specks darting along the far-off horizon, and watched them with great eagerness. Nearer and nearer they came, until, with a cry of joy, she saw a white man on the fore- most horse. But her pleasure was of brief duration. Two Indians seemed to be following, or accom- panying the white. Doubt, joy, distrust, hope rose alternately in Bessie’s mind. She saw the head Indian drop—suddenly from up we then she heard the report of the dead- y rifle. “Those men are not friends!” broke from her lips as Kit Carson kept on with his eagle eye fixed apparently upon Kiowa Charley. ‘The Indian is trying to outwind the white man. He is as anxious to capture me as the other. Hea- ven help me into whatever hands I fall!” She no longer, as we have said, waved her hands above her head, for the purpose of attract- ing attention. the pee tag they were clasped before her, and her pale face told how uncertain were | her hopes at that hour. | There was something magnificent in the dash- | ing race of the two handsome horses; their powers were strained to the utmost, and their riders, breathless but ready for anything, even death, sat them with supple grace. ‘*He is strange to me, but he does not look | a fiend!” Bessie said, her large black eyes fixed | upon Kiowa Charley who, speeding forward | like an arrow, seemed to see only her. ‘‘ The | other is an Indian. I think I can see death in his eyes. I had better trust the young white man! | 3 she centered all her hopes in the white ) wa. |. Charley did not look back after his discovery | of Whirling Hawk’s riderless horse. The thunder of hoofs a few rods behind told him that Kit Carson was sreoeing on. “Tf he smeT’ll doit! He shan’t lay hands | on the girl; ’twould spoil a romance, ready | he’s killed the best young Indian in the coun- try. I don’t want to touch him for I might | _ 1 bhn my godfather; but if he passes me— | this! | Kiowa Charley had drawn a knife whose | beautiful long blade fairly glistened in the first | fresh light of day. | If Carson gained the race, even if he attempt- | ed to pass him, his young arm would drive the | knife into his heart! The two grand horses seemed equally match- ed. Each seemed indisposed to yield an inch to the other. But the one ridden by the old mountaineer had won too many races where life and death awaited him at the goal, to fail now. His rowels were not bleeding like those of Midnight. He was guided by the determined lips, close to his foxlike ears. ; Suddenly Santa Anna veered to the right, and then made an oblique dash for the prize. Kiowa ae saw Kit’s intention. .*That will not gain you anything, Kit!” he Carson did not reply. He seemed to be cal- culating the distance between the white Kiowa and Bessie Lincoln. “« T see through the Indian’s plans!” exclaimed the girl. ‘‘He is going to ride before the white man and reach me first. Heaven helping me, I will baffle him in this.” She sprung forward with her eyes fixed upon | Kiowa Charley; but at that very moment Santa Anna with a mighty bound shot before Mid- night, grazing his extended nostrils with his foam-flecked flanks! Seeing what was coming, the young outlaw | leaned forward and struck with the long-blad- ed knife. pe a felt a sharp pain in his left arm—that was all. | The next instant his body shot off to the right | as if descending to the ground, and his painted | hand darted forward at the young girl shrinking from the capture with a cry! But Mountain Kit was too quick for her. ' She found herself lifted from the snow, while | her ery of terror still lingered on her lips, and then came the sensation of being borne for- ward as if on the wings of the wind. She was in the Indian’s arms! Another mo- ment and she would have been rescued by the | young Apollo of the piains. _ “Never mind! keep still, my little one. Ma- e White Mustanger. | | i i jor Lincoln never had a better friend nor Old it Carson.” With wondering eyes the startled girl looked up into the face above. That man Kit Carson the king of the Rockies; the prince of the pathbless plains? “Kit!—Kit Carson!” she cried bewildered. “Tm Kit an’ no mistake. The old hoss never lost a race yet; he’s the high stepper of the plains; he’s lightnin’ greased with b’ar’s oil | when he gets down to work. Now we’ll go back an’ hev aconfab with the young bicod. Thar’s grit in the youngster.” Going back to the man who must be Carson’s enemy? Kit interpreted Bessie’s glance, ‘« Yes, I guess he don’t like me. Ashe guy m- the knife jest ez I passed ’im, he said: ‘This tf... Pawnee Fork, Kit.’ So it seems thet he w__ thar !” As he spoke, Carson wheeled and looked for Kiowa Charley. Not far away, halted in the open plain, that worthy sat on his splendid horse, his long locks waving in the cold wind, and his faultless figure none to splendid advantage. His face was as white as the snow beneath Midnight’s hoofs, and was biting his ice-adorned mustache over his defeat. His eyes glistened as Carson approached. ‘*Hello! pardner!” called Kit, in his rough, ood-natured voice, ‘ You’ve got the next Lest oss in this kentry. Thar’s bottom in the crit- tur. Don’t want to trade?” The ludicrous sarcasm .noticeable in the old mountaineer’s tone drew a smile to Kiowa Charley’s lips, despite his efforts to keep it back. But he did not reply. ““Ye’re the youngest, the best lookin’, the best eddicated; I’m an old man who’s been carryin’ his life on the trigger for forty years; but the girl’s satisfied with me. She prefers Fort Sill to the Kiowa towns, Do you blame her for that?’ “No!” came over the snow on the wind. “Thet’s sensible. Good-by, Kiowa. Mebbe we'll meet ag’in--” “We will!” “ Gettin’ mad, eh?” There was no answer. “By the gods! we will meet again !” grated Kiowa Char ey. ‘Kit Carson, you’re not out of Kiowa land; Bessie Lincoln, you’re far from the arms of your father, By George! your beauty outshines the dew of the prairies. Old Kit is the king of frontiersmen; but he never ran against me in my element. IT’ll show him what Ican do, Good-by, my beauty! Kiowa Charley says farewell only over rifle and revolvers.” it Carson was turning away as the young outlaw finished. With a merry twinkle in his keen gray eyes he waved his painted hand in mock parting at the rider of Midnight. ‘The young chap’s plannin’ anew,” he said with a glance at the soldier’s daughter. ‘ I guess I’ll hev to stay hyarabouts an’ giv’ him employment. I’ve got friends, Bessie, even in this kentry. Old Kit Carson knows more pecple west o’ the Mississip’ than any other man livin’. Besides, I didn’t come hyar alone, Thar’s Simon an’ @d Experiment, an’—by gunjocks! I want you to get acquainted with the Seraph!” Bessie Lincoln gave the old guide a look of inquiry mixed with deep mystification. erhaps she was wondering what kind of a character could: bear the name of the Seraph in that wild land. pac CHAPTER VII. JEALOUSY IN KIOWA LAND. ‘“‘ He’s a thunderin’ while gettin’ back. P’r’aps he kept right on after findin’ the beauty?” Quartz Dick stopped in his impatient strides as if the thought were worthy of more than a passing consideration. It was broad daylight now. Not only thet, but the brilliant beams darting over the eastern horizon heralded the coming of the god of day. The bully of Kiowa land had grown tired of waiting at the last lodge for Kiowa Charley. “No! he wouldn’t keep on with the girl: I know he wouidn’t. He’d bring her back hyar. Thar’s nothin’ to prevent that—not even the little Gold Girl. By hokey! couldn’t I raise a rumpus by goin’ an’ tellin’ the haif Spanish chit that Kiowa had thrown off on her, an’ taken up with a stranger? How her little black eyes would flash! Mebbe she’d stick me fur impartin’ the information. It’s a leetle knife she carries, but it kills all the same.” The sun came up to make the snow gtisten like a carpet of pearls. ' The Indians had deserted the waror. Tistcod tenantless end elcre at ore so of Cag ‘ RACES
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ho horses had been put among the herd of must tangs belonging to the village. In the grea- lodge that crowned the middie of the square Black Mustang lay in the rigidity of death. A buffalo robe was his shroud, The-young bucks, as well as Quartz Dick, awaited the return of Kiowa Charley. His last words—his mad threat—still rung in their ears. They regretted that they had confessed to him; but who will not confess a misdeed when two revolvers stare him in the face? ‘*Let Buffalo Bull and his brothers come to Black Knife’s lodge. There we will mark out the length of Kiowa Charley’s life trail.” ‘he speaker, an athletic young Kiowa, march- ad at the head of the group to a wigwam which he called his own, ‘* Now how long shall it be?” he cried turning upon his companion in whose eyes the fires of madness were fiercely burning. ‘‘Santanta will come before two more sunsets. He will see the blue-coat’s wagon and horses and he will say: ‘Who took them?’ Then Kiowa Charle will tellon the young bucks, and Santanta will hand them over to the soldiers. A dead man can not talk. If the mustang chief was dead we could tell Santanta that we took the wagon from the Apaches: we could say that they kill- | ed the blue-coats and the white girl—that the bullet of Arrow Wound is in Black Mustang’s head. What do my brothers say?’ ‘*Black Knife talks well. We could say all this if the mustang chief was dead,” was the re- ply. Ypnen he must die.” “By the knives of the bucks!” This sentence fell in unison from the lips of five determined young braves. They meant what they said: they drew their scalping-knives and crossing them in mid-air swore to seal the lips of Kiowa Charley by the application of cold steel. They feared the anger of the all-powerful /Santanta. The cabal formed—the length of the young mustanger’s life decided upon by the merciless assassin—the six quietly withdrew. They never thought that their scheme had been overheard. While they discussed it with the coolness of old murderers the occupant of the neighboring lodge was leaning against the buffalo skin wall eagerly drinking in every word, Her face was almost white with sup- pressed anger—her eyes dilated, scintillated like stars, She was beautiful, with a fairy figure, mel- low skin, and a mass of dark hair that touched her supple waist. It was the girl whom we have heard Kiowa Charley call Staria, and Quartz Dick the Gold Girl. The tumultuous heaving of her bosom as she | listened to the plans of the scarlet conspirators told how much she was interested in the man whose life they sought. She did not see them enter the lodge; their | voices had caused her to spring from the soft cot now at her feet; and she knew them as well | as if they had paraded their figures before her eyes, "Buffalo Bull, Black Knife, Elk Horn, Empty Quiver, Bky Touch, and Talking Bird—she re- peated each name several times as the voice of the owner betrayed it. For several moments after the departure of the six, Staria stood silent in her wigwam., Biended with the indignation that filled her boso.n was another element that troubled her. She had heard from the assassin’s lips the true story of the wagon in the square. Where was the white girl who had fallen out? Kiowa Charley had gone after her! Would he find her alive and bring her into the village? Was the indiscreet action of the young bloods to give her a rival—a girl from the far East? ' Staria clutched her little hands as she thought, “No! no! no!” she cried. “He has often said—” But she paused and started back. Some unseen hand seemed to have been placed suddenly over her mouth. What has he often said? With a ery of anguish the Gold Girl flung eee upon the cot, and buried her face in her The darts of jealousy could not penetrate deeper than the stings of uncertainty. er cry had been heard by a person without; and he;a veritable giant, stopped at the very curtain of the wigwam. “What's the matter with my yellow queen? She’s goin’ on as if her little heart ua break- Kiowa Charley, the | | ef they’ / seemed to confirm his last words. in’, Bu’st my ca’tridge-box! ef a little inquiry moughtn’t do some good,” The bronze hand of Quartz Dick soon made an opening that revealed the interior of the lodge, and he found himself face to face with its pas- sionate inmate. The sunlight penetrating suddenly had driven the girl to her feet. She stood before him with flashing eyes, clenched hands and disordered tresses—a beauti- ful portrait of a crossed woman! The bully regretted that he had disturbed the | girl, and was withdrawing when she sprung for- ward, “Stay, Dick!” she cried. ‘IT want to talk with you. Has he come back?” “Not yet, my little one.” “*Do you think—” Staria paused. Should she let this man know that she was jealous; that she was fearful that Kiowa Charley was going to bring a new face into the village? And why not? Quartz Dick would try to get the new girl if she was pretty. In that he would be helping ner, “Pll try her, anyhow,” said Dick, to himself. “Ten minutes ago ’d hev kept my mouth shut; but Tl path a few words hyar’bouts jest to see 1 grow.” “Yes, my girl, I expect he’ll come back with anew face,” he said to Staria before she could continue. ‘‘ We white men ar’ kinder onsartin when it comes to love affairs. I’m lookin’ fur im back every minute. I’m eager to see the new girl; but I guess I'll not kiss ’er, eh, my little one?” Staria heard the bully with a countenance that did not displease him. **The seed will grow!” he said delightedly to himself. ‘‘ After all, Pll not hev to give ’im one in the eye. He’ll get a bit ’o cold steel fur runnin’ after strange women. The girl’s too mad to talk.” The statue of love insulted before Quartz Dick Staria’s eyes were glaring like the tigress’s before the spring. **Good-mornin’, girl,” Dick said drawing back ‘‘thar ar’ other fish in the sea. He’s not the only sweet scented shrub that blossoms on the plains. I’d rather hev thet chap with an eye in the middle of his forehead, than—” *‘ Let him go! let him come back!” interrupted the Gold Girl, ‘** Thet’s business!” “He may bring the new flower with him; but it shall not bloom as long as the little blue bells that grow onthe plains. Hesaved Staria’s life in the wild land of the Apaches: she would give it in exchange for his smile. Now he goes after a white girl whose father is a soldier. What does he deserve for this?” Quartz Dick did not reply but he sent a quick ae at the knife that glittered in the girl’s and. His eyes said: He ought to have the entire length of that blade! ‘“Ah! the big white man is silent; but his eyes talk. Charley, the Kiowa, shall have what he has always had—the love of Staria the Gold Girl; but the new face shall have—this!” Quartz Dick sprung back. The girl had stepped toward him, and the knife, with her last word, was thrust almost into his very face. ‘Great spirits!” he gasped. “TI said too much, I riled her too extensively! Theseed I copaeag is producin’ a crop 0’ thistles already. ‘licut’em down an’ try ag’in; but not hyar. Jest tech the girl that’s comin’ hyar with Kiowa Charley, an’ Pll choke ye till I burst yer big black eyes. I’m the head devil of all! I war rocked in the cradle of cruelty by the hand ov crime, I war! The new gal b’longs to me—to Quartz Dick! Do you hear, my jealous pigeon? An’ she’s comin’ hyar, too.” Yes, Bessie Lincoln was really coming to that nest of vipers and den of wolves! CHAPTER VIII. OLD EXPERIMENT’S VICTIM. Tue shades of another night were falling about the pictvresque capital of Kiowa land; the sun had gone down behind the hills above the town, and the shadows of a brief twilight lay on the snow. “Suthin’s eR he don’t come. From the way he talked when he rode off one would hev supposed that the tail end of an hour would see im back. What do you say, Simon?” But the gaunt Indian hunter seated among the chaparral did not reply. He kept his keen gray eyes fixed upon the savage village far below. Old Experiment gave his tall companion a! ‘ What’s the use? he suddenly exclaimee«. White Mustanger. 7 aS Cees sneer and turned to Pepito, or the Seraph. It was evident that he did not regard the youth with any favor. ‘** Ar’ yer ears in workin’ order?” the roug]:- voiced trailer asked. ‘‘I mean by thet remark, can’t you hear Kit comin’ back?’ Pepito looked up into Old Experiment’s face. ‘*Pepito does not hear Kit!” he said, in a tone that betokened alarm for the mountain king, Then he put his ear to the ground. ‘No horse,” he said glancing up at_Old Ux- periment. ‘By jingo! why didn’t I think ov it sooner?” cried the “ Injun eddicator,” suddenly striking his knee with his clenched hand while bis face broadened into a smile of hope. ‘'’Twountdn’t be policy for Kit to come back in daylight, an’ thet, too, with the gal—ef he got er! Pepto” The boy reluctantly removed his eyes from the shadowy Indian village upon which they had been constantly fixed all day, and looked ques- tioningly into Old Experiment’s face. _ “Boy, Ive got an idee!” said the hunter feat- ing himself at the Seraph’s side. ‘‘ An idee, an‘ a suspicion. Ez to the first, Pll enlighten you: ez to the latter, Pll keep it myself. What would take you down thar—into the Injun town?” The Seraph opened his deep eyes wide from astonishment. “What would take my brother down?” he. naturally asked, “*Scalps!” was the sententious reply. ‘‘To ba sure, I’d like to go down thar with a revolver in each hand, step onto thet squar’ an’ yell: first class in spellin’ stan’ up!—spell de’th an’ destruc- tion? Thet would stir my innards with the spoon ov bliss! But I’m talkin’ to you, boy!” ‘Kit said ‘Stay here,’” the Seraph said. “Thet star may be mighty high afore we see the old feller ag’in,” Old Icxperiment said, a2 his eyes described a brilliant star just peepiny: over the eastern horizon. ‘Ef he got the pai, mebbe he took her to Fort Sill many miles away—the old back trail, Pepito. Now you « been lookin’ inter et ge all day, Hev jy» see’d any body what Jooked nat’ral? Pepito almost started to his feet. ‘*] mean what I say,” Old: Experiment eci.- tinued. ‘“Isee the question kind o’ excites you Mebbe I got a glimpse o’ her, too,” The soft-skinned hand of the Seraph fell on Old Experiment’s arm. He was under the spell of some uncontrollab:« emotion. In the gaunt hunter’s eyes was a gleam of triumph, Pepito looked like a person whose secret had suddenly been discovered. Had Old Experi- ment fathomed his eager gazing into the Kiowa. town in the valley? “She’s a beauty, boy!” continued Kit Car- son’s comrade. ‘‘I—I think—by George! my robin, I know it’s her.” ““Tt is Inez!” “That’s it! she’s the very one. them Injuns, too!” Pepito sent a quick look into the village. “ Now what would take you down thar to- night? The answer came before the last word lefr Old Experiment’s lips. ‘* Tnez!” An’ among The scalp-hunter looked like a diplomat whe had gained a great victory. “Thar she is, my boy. Old Kit may not come back to-night. You’ve marked the wig- wam; so hev I. It’s the seventh one from the end. Your sister war lost a long time—stole, by a mean white man. Mebbe he’s down thar, too. Ef I had a sister in thet perdickament, b+ the speerits ov my ancestors!—” ‘No more, brother!” interrupted Pepitc ‘Inez is at Pepito’s feet; she is his long lost six ter. He will go down an’ bring her up from the lodges of the Kiowas. Shehas been waiting - for him to come. Weit for Pepito, brother.” The youth Jeft Old Experiment’s side and. glided to the spot where the horses were, After awhile the figure of an apparent Jn. dian boy came up from that direction, aud halted before the'old scalper, “Wal, thet beats creation!” exclaimed Olt Experiment gazing at the figure hefore him. ‘© Ef you’d come crawlin’ up behind me I’d hev knifed you fura Kiowa. Thar’s no danger in thet dress,” he whispered, glancing at Simon, who, a short distance off, did not seem to notice the metamorphosis. ‘Ef ye’re goin’ you'd bet- ter be quick aboutit, ez Simon might way an’ put his big arm afore you.’ ** Pepito go now; good-by, brother ;” Old Experiment hesitated to take the hané which the boy extended. ’ look this.
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Sa SSS os Se SS ee ee he 7a ae res —~ = <x — I a we SSS Ss 2 See eS = ~~ mr . OS SE 8 OSS EE FS Pr Ee J - 7 . .at his side. ’ for a moment. _ boy! ) within himself. ‘‘He’s never goin’ to come back, an’ I kin make it all right with Kit!” Then he took the Seraph’s hand. “Hold on! ll make you a better Injun!” he cried, and his hand diving into his buckskin pouch ae a strange-looking necklace of young bear-claws which the boy permitted him _to slip over his head. ‘“*Thar! That tops you off!” Pepito gave Old Experiment a pleased look, and the next instant was gone. The hunter glanced at Simon Brane to see ‘whether his game had been perceived. To all outward appearances it had not. Simon had not turned his head for hours; he was lying full Jength on the ground with his eyes fixed ina brown study upon the lodges of the Kiowas, “Tm runnin’ a risk—no! not much ov a one!” muttered Old Experiment. ‘‘ When I’m off on a big scalp-hunt I don’t want to be bothered with children. When I first sot eyes on thet young chicken, I sed he was no good, an’ I wanted to call ’im a small edition ov m first class in spellin’.. But what should Kit Carson do, but step up an’ call him his young friend. Kit’s always takin’ up with some queer colored person. He even went so far once as to marry an Injun gal. His ‘young friends’ hev always got us into trouble. Up on B’ar Tiver be took up with a young Pawnee an’ the siunk burned us out; then he transferred his afections to a Mexican boy an’ he stole our losses, an’ left us to fight the Apaches on foot. ‘Wow he’s tacked himself to another greaser—” Old Experiment paused abruptly. , His quick eye had detected a dark object on ‘the white surface below. ‘*Hfe’s got. to the door of death—he’s liftin’ the latch now!” exclaimed the hunter, for the familiar outlines of the figure had made him recognize it as the Seraph’s. ‘‘If they take ’im alive he'll not betray us. I’m not afeard ov that. I put the b’ar-claws on him to make the thing sartin. They’ll settle his hash with the Kiowas. He were bound to get us into trouble— ke’s an evil genius.” While Old Experiment talked he kept his eyes fixed upon the figure just entering the village in the vailey. He could not conceal his success. He had deliberately sent the Seraph into the jaws of death, for he really believed that his continued presence among them would only re- sult in the failure of the expedition, if not in the doom of all. All at once he turned to behold Simon Brane ‘““Whar is the Seraph?—Kit is comin’ back!” Old Experiment shook like a leaf; but only ‘Yas, wharis the youngster?” he asked jin well-affected surprise. ‘‘Hev ye been down to the hosses?” “No use in goin’; he ain’t thar!” ey. George! I wonder ef he’s gone down to see who thet gal is he hez been lookin’ at all da ? . ‘But Simon Brane’s brow per clouded. ‘ “T kin read you jest asif you war a primer in big print!” he said slow:y stepping up to Oid | . Experiment. ‘Don’t tell me, boy, thet you | con't know anything about the Seraph. I don’t like ’im any too well myself; but old Kit would | die fur the greaser. He’s down thar?” Old Experiment looked into the village and | then into Simon’s eyes. With the last look his tawny hand moved toward the butt of hislong- est revolver. “We've been friends too long fur thet!” said Bimon covering Old Experiment’s hand with hisown broad palm. ‘‘i understand yer mo- tives an’ Pll keep ’em. But Kit’s been suspec- tin’ you, I think, ever since we crossed the Ca- nadian; an’ he’s terribly taken up with the Experiment, Pm afeared that you’ve done the worst job ov yer life—the worst fur me, fur you, fur Kit Carson. But I'll try to git | you out ef it takes some o’ the tallest lyin’ on | earth! Now keep a stiff lip under yer nose, Kit’s comin’.” This seemed to be the ease. The sound of hoofs came from the direction in which they had seen the mountain man de- ” wpart. Old Experiment turned his face to the north end waited.. Simon’ Brane stood beside him. The face of the latter was troubled, and though he glanced often from the corners of his eyes at Old Experiment, he did not see that that worthy had half drawn his revolver, while he waited in the starlight for the man whose confidence he had betrayed. ; There was a certain desperateness in his Took. It was true that the life of Kit Carson hung on a slender thread. CHAPTER IX. BAGGED. SrtencE, and like statues among the cha- sets above the Indian village, stood Simon rane and Old Experiment waiting for Kit Carson. “ After allit mayn’t be Kit,” Simon said to himself, as his hard hand drew his revolver. “The tramp doesn’t sound like Santa Anna’s. By gunlocks! he’s stopped.” The last exclamation was spoken aloud for the sound of hoofs on the frozen ground had suddenly ceased, and that at a point so near that only the uncertain light of the few stars that shone prevented the twain from seeing the night-rider. ‘Stopped he hez!” echoed Old Experiment. “Tisn’t Kit; thet’s sartin. Tl go an’ see.” Dropping his lank body almost to the ground, the scalp-hunter pee away as noiseless as the serpent, leaving Simon Brane alone. “It war a bad job,” muttered that worthy. “He'll pay fur it, too, mebbe all ov us will. Tt war an evil day when Kit took up with the Seraph.” Satisfied that the unseen horseman was not the old guide, Simon stood ready to receive a startling report from Old Experiment. Several minutes winged their rapld journey over his head. Then all at once came the rough voice of the gaunt scalper. “First class in spellin’, stan’ up! Spell de’th an’ destruction!” Then bang! bang! bung! Simon Brane leaped forward like a person shot from a catapult. “Great Ceesar’s ghost! gunlocks an’ bufflers! I shot at—the devil!” The sound of hoofs were ringing in Simon’s ears. Old Experiment wasstanding among the low bushes with the whitest face that ever rose above them; the heavy revolvers had fallen from his nerveless hands, and lay smoking at his feet. ‘What on earth—” “ His Satanic Majesty—nobody else, Simon!” gasped Old Experiment. ‘ Didn’t you hear me oe the first-class in spellin’ to stand up?” es. “ Thet warn’t necessary ; it war merely a form —used in all well regerlated schools. The class war right before me, a-sittin’ on his hoss; but sech a scholar never stood before Old Experi- ment, the oer Injun eddicator, in all his teachin’! e hadn’t any nose, no mouth, no nothin’ but a fiery eye that blazed right in the middle of his forehead!” Simon Brane looked incredulously at the speaker. . *‘ An’, you shot three times at ’im?” he asked. ‘No, only once!” was the reply. ‘¢T heard three shots.” “ Wal—mebbe—I did,” said Old Experiment. ** Let us see.” Stooping he lifted the revolvers from the snow and examined their chambers. Three were empty. ‘“‘T must hev been excited!” he said, looking into Simon’s face. ‘‘ But, cussme! ef I thought I shot morethan once. I’ve got so used to shoot- in’ into big classes thet the pistols pronounce the words a leetle faster than I fancied. But Simon—” Old Experiment paused. “Wal, go on!” “When a man does a bad deed somethin’ turns up against im, I didn’t do right by the Seraph.” “ec het’s so!” ‘* Somehow or other a public eddicator whips a scholar when he doesn’t deserve a lick, Thet’s jest what I’ve done to-night. Now I’m goin’ to try to mend the matter. Do you want to go along?” “* ‘Whar to, pardner?” **Down thar!” Simon Brane looked like a thunderstruck per- son into Old Experiment’s face. *“No use, Simon; I’m goin’!” continued the old trailer, before Simon could reply. ‘Ef you don’t want to go "long, stay hyar till I or Kit comes back. I kin make a g lookin’ Kiowa outen my carcass in Jess then five min- utes. “Tm goin’, too,” fell from Brane’s lips. ‘Yer hand on thet!” The two worthies grasped hands. Old Experiment was one of the characters that ever traversed the plains. | strangest | the silence. Kiowa Charley, the White Mustanger. Se When he did a wrong and would acknowledge it he would risk his life to repair it. He had sent Kit Carson’s protege into the jaws of death, hoping to cet rid of the boy. © firmly believed that the mild-eyed youth was the evil genius of the expedition; he had regarded him with distrust from the first. ut the great wrong which he had committed, not only against the boy, himself, but against his old comrade, Kit Carson, had suddenly flashed through his heart. To repair it before Kit should return was now his sole object. He would invade the Kiowa village and tear the youth away before discovery sealed his speedy doom. A tew minutes later two Indianfied looking fellows, mounted on horses, with buffalo-hide bridles, rode down from the chaparral. There was no little excitement in the town. The three pistol-shots ringing out clear and startling upon the cutting night air had roused the Indians. But our two friends, admirably disguised, went through the crowds apparently unper- ceived and unrecognized. Everywhere the keen eyes of Old Experiment roamed in search of the Seraph. “Pye got a bigger job on hands than lookin’ for the youngster!” he whispered at the first op- portunity to his companion. ‘These Injuns make me eager to administer the first lesson in spellin’.” “Tf you try it, we’re gone!” was the reply. . Encompassed by death, the two scalp-hunters sought for the boy. Entirely unwatched? No! ‘*Meet mein the equar’ in ten minutes,” said Old Experiment. ‘I’ve got an idee.” Separating, the friends went different ways, and each scon lost sight of the other. Old Experiment, now on foot, went down the line of lodges. Not far behind him crepta giant whose half-civilized garb would have proclaim- ed him a balf-breed. When the boy-hunter stopped, his pursuer would also halt, and crouch to the cold ground. Old Experiment reached the lodge he sought. It was a pretty structure, and the seventh one from the end of the line. “T war right!” he ejaculated, after a moment of eavesdropping behind the structure. ‘‘The Ror is in thar. e an’ the gol ar’ hevin’ a talk, What does she say? By gunflints! The Seraph hez found his sister!” Old Experiment started back. “First, Simon, an’ then the hosses!” he said, leased with hisspying. ‘‘ Mebbe we'll take ’em th off—the boy, anyhow.” To find Simon Brane, get the horses, and, in- vading the Kiowa lodge, silence Staria and carry Pepito from the fate to which his hatred had sent him—this was Old Experiment’s plan. Tt would not ad ten minutes. He went eth ack, reached ‘the square, and tapped a tall figure on the shoulder. **T tracked ’im down, Simon. Now for the hosses.” ’ The animals were soon found, where they had been left at one side of the village. ‘“‘ Hold on!” suddenly cried Old Experiment, halting with his hand upon his horse’ neck, ready to spring ses his back. ‘Great Jehosg- phat! suthin’ hez happened.” Simon Brane sprung to his companion’s side. ** Look hyar!” continued the trailer, “ Hyar’s a piece ov paper! it war stickin’ to Nightwind’s shoulder,” and he held the object up before Si- mon’s eyes. ‘Kin ye make it out?” eagerly asked Brane. “Dunno; let me see. The letters ar’ oncom- mon big an’ mighty few.” The paper was thrust into the starlight, and Old Experiment studied it intensely. ‘*Simon! Simon! it can’t be!” he suddenly exclaimed. ‘But yet it ar’ his hand-writin’.” “Whose?” ce Look 1”? The paper was seized by Simon Brane, and he’ read in a tone that reached his comrade’s ear: | “ Leave at once; ye ar’ watched |” The warning was not signed; no signature was needed. It was written by the hand that had killed Indians from the head-waters of the Missouri to the forks of the Rio Brazos. ‘ The two men stared blankly into each other’s ace. Kit Carson in the Indian town? Impossible! but his hand, and his only, had traced the rude letters on the paper. “We must git!” Simon Brane said, breaking ** He’s our cap’n; an’ he'll get away sate an’ sound.” |
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n “But the boy?” ** Take ’im, ov course.” ‘Then, hyar goes!” The twain leaped upon the horses; but the next instant a voice, like the knell of doom, saluted their ears. **Not so fast, my painted friends! [ve got the drop on both ov ye. I’ve Kivered yer right eyes with the best wepins that ever sent a sper- rit to kingdum kum. [’m the chap what hez watched ye. I’m the boss shooter of the plains —the walkin’ death ov Kiowaland. I ginerally check baggage cla’r through. Git off them animiles!” The astonished men looked at the speaker. Tall and robust, he was a veritable giant, and in each hand he held a revolver of the largest pattern at full cock. They were ‘“‘covered” by the deadly weapons. ““T guess you’ve got us, stranger,” said Simon Brane. ‘‘Got ye? I should think Ihev. Tve had ye fur twenty minutes. When [ first see’d yel said to myself: ‘Thar ar’ Old Experiment an’ Simon Brane!’” The man with the pistols actually knew their names! Old Experiment started. ‘‘ By gunstocks! you must be Quartz Dick!” he said. ‘** Thet’s my handle. I’m the angel thet you bak ing up on the Cheyenne, an’ then tied to a wild mustang. How much mercy are you ex- pectin’ just now?” Mercy from that devil? Old Exveriment slid from his horse. ‘* Mebbe he hezn’t diskivered Kit. We'll hope so!” he murmured, CHAPTER X. THE MAD SHOOTER. THERE was no mercy in the devilish eyes that shot all the hatred of the ruffian.at Old Experi- ment and Simon Brane. “T know you're not lookin’ for mercy,” said Quartz Dick. ‘But ’'m not the worst fellar on earth. I oughter give ye the ball in the ooo arter my own peculiar style; but Pll do the fair thin’ by ye. Now, Old Experiment, what brought ye hyur?” The men exchanged significant glances. ‘““We come on business, ov course,” was the reply. t Goin’ to be stubborn, eh?” flashed the bully, madly, ‘‘Mebbe I'll hev to revoke my pro- clamation ov mercy. Talk or die. Take yer choice. Are ye alone?” “T kin b’lieve that if I pest’ was the reply. “Thar’s a strange Injun hyar besides you men. Ef we was to wash the paint off him, would not he look like Kit Carson’s twin brother, eh, my swallows?” The ruffian’s last words fell like thunderbolts upon the scalper’s ears. “ Kit Carson hyar?” ejaculated Simon. “Did I say so?” * Not exactly, Dick; but—” ‘* By the jumpin’ jingo! I know it now,” was the interruption. ‘I’ve been livin’ hyar in sweet anticipation fur ten years. I knowed you fellars ’d fall into my hands sometime. Thar’s a kind o’ gravitation that draws old enemies together, an’ it’s drawn you all the way from the Cheyenne. Boys, thet very mustang that I rode that time ar’ hyar now; an’ he’s the best hoss in these parts.” Before Quartz Dick’s last word had ceased to ring in the scalp-hunters’ ears, a cry fell from his lips. The next moment a score of dark forms maade their appearance, as if they had been concealed near by, waiting for the summons. he hands of our friends moved mechanically toward their weapons; but the flash of Quartz Dick’s eyes, and his threatening sentence de- terred them: : ‘* Death ef ye tech ’om!” he said. Te situation was now of the most thrilling kind. ‘Thar ar’ two hawks in dove feathers!” said Quartz Dick whirling upon the Kiowas whom his cry had called up, ‘Ef ye’d wash the aint off their faces ye’d fairly screech with de- ight. But somewhar in the camp is another whose scalp is wuth all the ponies in Kiowa- dom. But these false Injuns first—old friends oy mine—close acquaintances I might almost say: used to bunk together in the Rockies. They war down hyar last night, an’ they shot | Little Buck. Somehow or other the bullet hit im in the eye. Arter they shot ’im, they pitched ’im into the big fever eo gr 4 ‘Thet’s an orthodox lie!” said Old Experi- ‘ Se a ee ee eee ee ee ee —eeeeeeeeeEeEeEeEeEeEEeEeEEe—————ey———EeEE———>————————EEE EE eee - ment. ‘‘We warn’t hyar last night; but I reckon as how we see’d a bit o’ shootin’ frum whar we war!” Quartz Dick laughed. ‘* Just as ef the truth will do you good hyar!” he cried. ‘‘No, my old friends, you’ve got the end ov yer last scalp-trail—so hez the other man. Now, giv’ inlike men. Go an’ take ’em, Kiowas! Ill keep ’em kivered!” two scalpers. pistols. ; ** They’ve got us!” Old Experiment whispered toSimon. ‘ Keep a stiff upper lip. We’i to call up the first class in spellin’ more’n once after to-night.” A moment later they were captives. “Yer sensible,” said Quartz Dick. ‘Now lll take a nigh view ov yer faces which I hevn’t had fur ten years.” The Indians stood close around the prisoners; their scarlet hands encircled their arms, The giant bully came forward with a leer of triumph in his eyes. At that moment of per- sonal victory over old foes, be forgot Bessie Lincoln, then nearer than he suspected—forgot, too, the rival over whom he must triumph be- fore he could win the fight for her charms. “You don’t look nat’ral with the paint on!” he said. laughing in Old Experiment’s face. ‘*Now when I catch the other white skunk—the meanest one ov you three—I’ll inaugurate the biggest an’ the bloodiest time ever held in this wild land. He isn’t far off—” “* No! he’s right hyar !” Quartz Dick could not but start back at the sound of the unexpected words; and while they still fell upon his ears, a gaunt Indian sprung forward. ‘*The meanest skunk ov all extends his com- pliments to you, Quartz Dick!” With the last words the pe speaker darted upon the thunderstruck bully, and the clenched hand that landed with the force of a trip-hammer in his face, sent him reeling from the spot! Still covered by the formidable tives. ‘*To the hosses!” cried the punisher. ‘‘ We've botched things terribly to-night. But J couldn’t help it. To the hosses! the red-skins are thunder- struck. What on earth—’ Kit Carson—for the speaker was the famous mountain guide—sprung toward Old Experi- ment who had leaped back and drawn his re- volvers. ‘First class in spellin’ stan’ up! Spell de’th an’ destruction!” His long arms went up with the last words, and before old Kit reached his side his revolvers were pouring death into the astounded group of Indians. **P’m the great Injun eddicator ov the West!” bang! bang! ‘‘ I’ve spent half my nat’ral life,” bang! ‘‘teachin’ Injuns,” bang! ‘‘that life is one 0’ the most onsartinist things that ar’!” His deadly pistols cracked with precision and si, pee Te went forward, straight upon his victims, talking and shooting at the same time. ‘* First class in spellin’ take your seats. ond class—” The man who reached the mad scalper’s side at this juncture carried a tempest in his eyes. It was Kit Carson, “Stop!” he thundered, tearing down the out- stretched arm of Old Experiment, ‘' Thar ar’ no Injuns before you. What you hevn’t killed 1ev fled. Ar’ you mad? You'll shoot us all to the stake. Listen! The hull village is wild— crazy! To the hosses. Quick!” He pushed Old Experiment toward the devoted beasts which had not stirred from their track; then, whirling upon Simon Brane, he pointed toward the animals. Kit Carson had spoken truly, A bedlam seemed to be reigning among the lodges just discernible in the.starlight. Dark forms were already visible on the snow. “Mount an’ git!” thundered the old guide, as he stood before his companions, a revolver clutched in his right hand. ‘This may be our last scalp-hunt. Thar’s death over yonder on the snow!” “An’*a right smart bit_ov_it whar the class did its last spellin’!” said Old Experiment. The two men vaulted upon the backs of the steeds; but not a moment too soon. A jet of fire flashed from a score of guns where the wigwams stood, and bullets whizzed through the air. “Hit! by hokey!” cried Old Experiment, as the horses bounded away. _, “Tsay thet I’ve got a bullet somewhar in my Sec- The Kiowas started astonished from the cap- | ee | The Indians at his words went toward the | live | 9 SSRN LNT ace Aa carcass—jest whar, I can’t exactly tell. Whoa, Nightwind. I want to give ’em a partin’ les- son.” Despite the danger that surrounded them, the rash scalper halted and whirled on his steed. “Second class in spellin’ stan’ up! Spell bul- lets and blood!” Then bis deadly pistols flashed once more be- fore his face, nor did he stop firing until the last chamber had been emptied. Hard riding took them speedily from the village, and they found themselves unpufsued on the plain beyond. Ms, Halt!” They drew rein at Simon Brane’s command. _ “ Are you badly shot?” he said to his compan- ion. ** A bullet in the leg—that’s all,” was the re- sponse, ‘ But whar’s Kit?” “* Don’t you know?” There was a strange look in Simon’s eye as he leaned forward till his face almost touched Old Experiment’s. ‘‘No. Simon, you look asef suthin hez hap- pened ’im.” **Suthin’ hez.” “Shot by the red skunks?” ““T wish he war!” “Great Ceesar’s ghost!” gasped Old Experi- ment, almost falling from his horse. ‘‘ Did I do it, Simon? did I shoot Kit Carson? No! yer lyin’, old boy! My bullets know old Kit! They wouldn’t tech ’im!” Simon Brane did not reply. His face was seriousness mixed with the deepest sorrow. ‘“*Simon! Simon! don’t ye lie?” cried the old scalper, grasping the arm of the silent man. “Im afeared I don’t!” was forced from Si- mon’s lips. : The next instant the pistol of Old Experiment was thrust into his hand. . ‘“Hyar!” he cried. ‘Take this wepin an’ do yer duty. Kit Carson saved yer life once, an’ T heard you swear thet you'd kill the man— red or white—that teched ’im. Now keep yer word, er Old Experiment will call you coward ez long ez he lives. What! ar’ ye cryin’, Simon? Yer old eyes ar’ wet. Bea man! take this we’- pin, I say, an’ kill the fool who slew Rocky fountain Kit.” But Simon Brane with a shudder pushed,the pistol aside, **T can’t do thet !” he cried, ; **Can’t? Whar’s yer manhood, Simon? I thought you loved Kit Carson.” But the trailer, with his gray eyes full of tears, did not answer. “i CHAPTER XI. A CHANGE OF SCENE. STIL. vivid, no doubt, in the reader’s recollec- tion is the encounter between Old Experiment and the strange being with a single eye amon pe chaparral on the bill above the Indian vil age, f the waiting scouts could have seen the cy- clops riding toward their place of concealment | they would have known that he expected to find somebody there. ed this. Suddenly confronted by the old trailer, with a heavy revolver in each hand, he was taken aback, nor did he recover until three bullets had leaped from the oily grooves. Fortunately for the cyclopean rider, the excitement of Old Experiment’s nerves turned the balls from their intended victim, and without essaying to reply, although he had pistols at his command, he turned and dashed away. Let us for a few minutes follow. After reaching the plain below he drew re and for several moments turned his deform face toward the north, and allowed the wind to blow cuttingly against it. The eye in the center of his forehead looked more like a star than a visionary orb. It scin- tillated like a diamond, sending forth strange rays of light in the beams of the moon. ’ All at once, as if having reached a conclusion, he wheeled and dashed into the Kiowa village, and was soon lost among the lodges. Half an_hour later, and while Old Experi- ment and Simon Brane were searching for the ~ Seraph, an elegant white horse ieee this same cyclopean mystery emerged from the vil- lage. Not far away, as a hundred neighs indicated was situated a corral containing a herd o nena Toward this place the white horse went. The fretful steeds, guarded by several Indians, seemed to discover the presence of the stranger. The guards sprung up, and with ready guns His movements proclaim-
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SS re ee ene eee woe ae = Ss ge ene yg a = SS SSS See: ui ¥ re) darted forward, but to start back with cries of from his bearded lips. ‘‘I heard ’em awhile terror. back; then I didn’t hear’em. Now hyar they Out on the plain but a short distance from | ar’ lookin’ at me as if I war a spectur, or suthin’ the corral, with the moonlight falling uninter- | jest as bad. By Jove! ’twould be a sight for rupted on his face, sat the mystery on his white | old Kit Carson’s gal; but she’s asleep, so I won’t horse. wake ’er. I hed to laugh to myself when Kit ‘*Woonah! Woonah*!” gasped the Indians in | come to my ranch last night with this angel, accents of genuine fright, as they took to their | an’ told me to se ’er till he came back. He heels without having lifted a weapon against | called me Parson; but Inever let on—never told the nocturnal visitor. the old chap thet the Parson hes been dead these In the corral a picture of excitement might | ten year—an’ thet [ am his twin brother. What also have been seen. The mustangs with one | brought Kit down into this country? Tl not accord had rushed to that part of the rude in- | puzzle myself with thet question. know he’s closure that confronted the cyclops. There, fyarc-thal's enough, an’ | know, too, thet Kio- with fore-feet planted firmly on the ground, | wa Charley ’ll give me more fur this beauty with arched necks thrown back, their hand- | than I kin make on the old ranch in six some heads erect, and eyes full of fire, they | months.” gazed at the apparition on the plain. The speaker paused almost abruptly, for a When the mystery dartea forward it seemed | horse, ath i y riderless, bad advanced from that he would charge straight into the corral; | the herd. but instead, he veered suddenly to the left, and ‘‘Tt’s the leader!” he said. ‘‘By my knife! swept round it with the agility of the swallow. | he’s white es snow—ore ov them rare critturs Three wild but almost human sounds came from | thet kin outrun the wind. How kin I git him? the throat of his white steed, and the mustangs | Ef I warn’t bothered by the gal, I’d crease the whirling followed him around the inclosure. mustang. Mebbe I kin do it anyhow.” Thrice he rode around the place, watched | Sucha superb creature as the white mustang from afar by the shivering and superstitious In- | was not to be caught every day on the plain. dian guards, and then suddenly, like an arrow He was symmetry itself. shot from an elk-horn bow, he dashed toward | With his last exclamation, the betrayer of the north. Kit Carson’s confidence unslung a carbine. The next moment came the destruction of the | But the white horse continued to approach corral. The mustangs, mad, as it were, dashed | with his head turned squarely upon him, and against the barrier of felled chaparral, flung it | prevented the creasing operation. in every direction, and shot pell-mell after the | ‘‘Cuss’im! he’s goim’ to come up an’ take a white horse. look at the gal!” ejaculated the man, with a lu- The Indians uttered loud cries of wonder and | dicrous smile about the corners of his mouth, astonishment. ‘*He’s been ridden afore; he’s somebody’s pet. The cyclops turning his head saw from his | Wal, come on, my beauty. ‘I’ve got the pur- single eye the oncoming herd, and a moment | tiest gal hyar thet ever saw the plains. She’s later they were all around him whinnying | Kiowa Charley’s sweetheart—er she will be with strange delight, and biting his white horse | when we strike the bargain.” in playful mood. The traitor saw no rider as the white came While the red guards looked, he disappeared | up, but all at once, as his own steed stretched with the motley herd at his heels, and the | out his neck to greet the new-comer, something thunder of their hoofs was the only sound that | shot over the snowy back—sprung up, as it saluted their ears. were, through the white mane—and sat bolt up- This was the strange being whom Kit Carson | right before him! encountered on the Wichita plains, as we have ‘The mystery, by my soul! Grea. Wichita! already seen; and we may safely say that the | who’d’a’ thought it?” herd which he headed then, he leads once more. The speaker reeled from the hideous face that For an hour the unbridled cavalcade kept in | had suddenly shot into sight. His cry roused straight course, the mustang king erect on the | the girl. He almost fell from his horse. back of his white horse, with his soulless face “The devil on his pale horse! M as turned against the north wind. | you don’t want to see’im. ’Twould shatter al All at once he sprung erect on his steed, and | yer nerves, fur he hesn’t any face—nothin’ but waved his right hand at the herd behind. In- | one burnin’ eye!” stantly the dashing mustangs came to a halt, As he spoke, he covered his companion’s face that drove many upon their haunches. But | with his left hand, and grasped the reins with order and silence, save the heavy panting, soon | his right. followed. But his horse did not dart forward, for before Proud of his control over the beautiful herd, | he could speak or apply the heavy Spanish spurs the cyclops turned, and looked over the snowy | that were bloody at his heel, the Cyclops shot lain that seemed to stretch into eternity | at him with a force wholly irresistible, and fhrougti the soft moonlight. madly ‘re the girl from his arms. The white horse raised his fox-like ears; his At i... same time a blow that seemed to the companions followed his example, and lifted | astonished man to proceed from the one glitter- their heads. ing eye sent him tumbling from his seat, and Something was advancing, coming from the | his horse bounded toward the herd. north-east. It had the steady gallop of a horse The girl—none other than Bessie Lincoln, accustomed to the plains. reader—had fallen into the hands of the my- It was this that bad halted the mustangs; | stery of the plains. above the sound of their hoof-beats the cyclope- Gazing upon bis prize with evident delight, an rider had heard the tramp of the single | the wild mustanger regained the head of the horse. herd before the outwitted man had fairly re- Nearer and nearer came the still unseen horse | gained his feet. But when he did, he saw the —for such the ¢pproaching object certainly white horse place himself at the head of the was, herd once more. Then a black spot appeared on the snow. ‘The devil ar’ goin’ to ride me down!” The white pe rider dropped astride of him | the traitor. ‘‘ Not content with gettin’ the gal, again; but never took the one eye off the stain | he must make mince-meat outen old Jim Jus- on the ground. tice.” The horse thus closely watched came on until The wild mustangs were actually moving to- it was within one hundred yards of the herd. | ward him. What could he do? Then, as if it had noticed it for the first time, it Behind him stretched a treeless waste—before came to a sudden halt. him—a death whose spectacle froze his blood! The cyclops picked up bis reins, and sent a He saw the white mustang; but only for a glance to the revolvers in his belt. moment. If his eye possessed extraordinary powers of All at once the equine ranks parted; but vision, he could have seen that the man on the | came together again. horse ahead was not an Indian. Beyond them, now motionless and alone on But this was not all, the plain, he saw the snowy horse and his In his brawny arms he held a female figure. double burden. The cold wind had whitened the fair face, ‘Just let me git outen this, an’ I'll stick to although it was pressed against his broad chest. | the old ranch furever!” he cried. ‘To be He wore no hat; his shock of dark hair gave | tramped to death, with no time to repent—” him an uncouth and Hp apepont meena The hoof-beats drowned his words; but the His presence there, his look, his personnel, | next moment, with a wild cry, he threw him- said that he had not come honestly by the beau- | self against the foremost horses. § tiful face in his arms. His cry still echoed afar when the traine He was staring at the herd halted on the | herd wheeled and dashed back to their master, plain, but he did not see the strange captain. waiting for them. “Them horses must be out ona lark!” fell Where Jim Justice had sacrificed himself the there was a dark object on the disturbed ** The evil rider !” snow. Kiowa Charley, the White Mustanger. It was a horrible doom; but one not entirely undeserved by the man who, for gain, had be- trayed the confidence of Rocky Mountain Kit. CHAPTER XII. A TIGER LOOSE. “Srawn’ back! don’t you see thet ’m mad all over? Goan look at yer defunct brothers—go an’ sw’ar over them thet you’]l hunt down an’ skin alive the fellars what did thet. I don’t want Injun sympathy. It arn’t the kind o’ lini- ment thet heals a face what hez been hit by a sledge-hammer era club. Git out; giv’ Quartz Dick room to sling himself. An’ ye’d better scatter, too, fur Pve got my hands on these eye- spotters; an’ ’m kind o’ narvous-like besides,” The speaker was walking up and down before a group of astonished Indians. He was in a tempest of rage. . In each hand he carried a heavy revolver, “aes atfull cock, he constantly swung about im. We have seen him go to the ground from the fist of Rocky Mountain Kit. If the blow had been delivered by an unseen assailant, Quartz Dick upon recovery would doubtless have declared that he had been felled with a club. At the shots which Old Experiment poured into the indistinct Indian ranks from the bac! of his horse the bully regained consciousness. He found himself surrounded by a crowd of excited red-skins, who plied him for informa- tion concerning the raiders. His reply was aseries of mad oaths and charg- ing them from his immediate front, he began to stride back and forth before them all, the while giving vent to his great rage. **Go an’ count yer dead!” he yelled, stopping suddenly before the Kiowas. ‘ You’ve got more’n enough out ther to start a Christian graveyard. From the look of affairs one would think that the angel ov death hed called around. I don’t want you hyar. I want to cuss an’ think—to think an’ cuss!” The Indians left the mad bully and gathered about the victims of Old Experiment’s weapon. They lay where they had fallen on the lght covering of snow—ten forms that would tread the war trail no more, nor vault upon the mustang for the border raid. The ‘first class in spelling” would not be called up again by the master. With the discovery of their dead a series of unearthly yells awoke the echoes of the night. From every part of the vast village the shrie}s were taken up, and the crowd was joined by ail the old crones within its boundaries. These uu- couth beldams with disheveled hair and repvu!- sive features, threw themselves upon the dead and rendered the scene disgusting, and terrible in the extreme. Meanwhile, Quartz Dick was continuing his es the maddest man, no doubt, on the Kiowa ins. F His face not handsome at any time was mo- mentarily becoming less so by discoloration, the effects of old Kit’s hammer-like blow. In- . deed, he indistinctly saw the star that seemed to laugh at bis misfortune. ‘* Kit’s wiuscles don’t weaken ez he gits older!” said the bruised white Indian. ‘‘He’s got the same old leverage to his arm that he used to hev on the Pawnees an’ Cheyenne. I knowed he war in camp; but I didn’t think he war so nigh; hedn’t any idea ov his presence till I got his fist between my telescopes. Curse ’im! I could chaw ’im up. I wouldn’t eye-spot him. I’d literally eat his heart, an’ thet right afore his eyes. By George! I’m goin’ blind, or else them stars ar’ all goin’ out. Howl on, Kiowa dogs,” to the Indians. ‘‘Ef you had Quartz Dick’s physiognomy through life, thar’d be a thunderin’ sight ov old bachelors in Injundum. Kit Carson leaves his work jist like the butcher what strikes his beeves—only he don’t break skulls with his bunched fingers!” Quartz Dick staggered rather than walked from the spot of his encounter with Kit Carson. He could see but indistinctly now, as his eyes had swelled almost shut. But he managed to reach his habitation in the interior of which he solaced himself with aglassof burning a some quantity of which he applied to his Gisfigured face. Above the eyes the knuckles of the mountain man had laid the cuticle open, making a ghastly line of crimson, As the whisky touched the gaping flesh, Quartz Dick sprung clear of the ground and cursed in his agony. But then he grated his teeth and stamped the earth as with astern | resolution he continued to bathe the wound. It was not derk in the little apartment which f
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as if by a spent ball,as the streaks radiated from a common center, stood on a barrel, and aided the bully in his self-doctoring. Anybody but the afflicted man himself would have laughed at the reflec- tion in the glass. From each of the divisions created by the break, the face of an imp seemed to grin. Quartz Dick saw them, but kept his teeth hard pressed and continued to apply the magical liquor. Magical, we say, for the swelling soon began to disappear, and once more his eyes flashed their mad fire uninterrupted by hillocks of flesh. But a dark discoloration, which the whisky could not remove, still remained. ‘* Now I begin to look decent once more!” cried the bully stepping back. ‘I never preached the use ov whisky out’ardly, but a fellar hez to go back on his religion occasionally. Now I’m ready fur Kit. Didn’t I hear the Injuns say that but two persons ran off—the two what hed the hosses? aoe war Old Experiment an’ Simon Brane. Kit bed no animals—not thar, at an rate. But the red-skins ar’ mistaken. He wouldn’t stay hyar when he hez been diskivered, an’ thet by such a devil ez Quartz Dick. No, sir! I know old Kit too well for thet.” The speaker was at the door of his abode with the last emphatic declaration on his lips, and as he threw it open a ery of joy fell from his tongue. He could see the stars once more in all] their brilliancy. Turning his face toward that portion of the village when the scenes lately witnessed had occurred he heard but little to excite him. ‘The coyotes hev quit hollerin’,” he said. ‘‘ A Kiowa kin out-mourn the world for a little while; but all at once he shuts up like an oyster; an’ then— What new rumpus is up now?” A startling cry was approaching the square from the north. Quartz Dick heard it plainly. *“Woonah! Woonah! horses all go off with Woonah on white mustang.” “One big event follows another hyar jist ez they d» in the States,” muttered the renegade. “So that white mustang and his rider hev been about again.” The Indians who were spreading the intelli- gence of the evil rider’s appearance, turned out to be the guards of the corral. They soon came in sight. “Stop an’ tell me all about it!” suddenly cried artz Dick springing into the street be- fore his abode and bringing the foremost In- dian to a sudden halt. The corral-guard told his ar and with the last word the bully shoved him forward. “Go an’ scare yer friends out o’ their skins!” he said, ‘I'll carry out an idea thet will throw some light upon this devil of the plains.” The Kiowa had given Dick a highly embel- lished narrative of the mystery’s stampede of the corraled herd; in it was the information that they (the guards) had waited a long time for his return. ‘* Ef the white hoss isn’t in the stable it will prove it!” ejaculated the bully as he moved aga’ away. ‘‘I hev more’n once suspicioned im. The other time I thought I hed the chap; but I found the hoss thar, dry ez a hair.” A few moments later he reached the large structure from which we have seen Kiowa Charley take the horse Midnight, and opened the ‘‘ door.” “ Mornin’?” he called, thrustin tenance into the gloom. thar?” i : ‘ In response to his voice there came a whinny from the interior of the structure, and a white equine head appeared at the opening. ““Hyar ye ar’!” cried Dick putting forth his hand. ‘“ An’ wet as a drowned rat, too! I’ve got the proof at last; hoss-flesh won’tlie. The snow-flake is as wet ezef he hed carried double!” With a pleased look Quartz Dick turned away, only to utter a cry of astonishment and forward upon a figure that glided over the snow, and disappeared ’round the nearest lodge. ‘You, my little one? By my life! I expected not to find you hyar. Say, eae ar’ ye goin’, an’ after what? Ain’t that a knife ye’r holdin’ along yer sleeve? Yer eyes dance like crazy stars! They’re chock full o’ that kind o’ mad- vess thet gives a feller a knife whar he gits his breath from. Who are ye huntin’? Open yer mouth, er Pll transfer my hand from yer arm ‘fo ver stretch o’ throat!” his evil coun- ‘*Mornin’, ar’ ye out as though it were an atom, was no other than that of Staria, the Gold Girl. Her trame trembled under the influence of the excitement which controlled her. The long blade pressed against her arm, strive as she might to hide it, revealed itself by its baleful glitter. ‘*Tell me what’s up, er I’ll shake ye to pieces?” menaced the ruflian. ‘‘Krom yer looks, I’d think thet Kiowa Charley hez brought the new sweetheart into camp.” ‘ - this Staria’s eyes flashed a more intense ight. ‘*T knowed it!” ejaculated Dick, ‘‘ He wara long time gettin’ ’er, but I knowed all the time thet she would come! Where is the new gal?” ** Where he left her!” ** An’ thet is—” re bee Staria was taking her knife!” flashed the girl. “Bound to kill the new sweetheart, eh?” rinned Quartz Dick. ‘‘ Why don’t you strike vm? “Not Charley: no! no! no!” said the girl, drawing back. ‘‘Staria love him too well. He saved her from the Apaches. But the white girl shall not steal his heart from her. Staria will go to her. She will go now!” A mad jerk followed the utterance of the last word, and the Gold Girl tore herself from Quartz Dick’s gripe. ‘Not so fast, my beauty!” he cried, as his hand shot forward to detain her. ‘‘ Tech the new gal, an’ I'll mark yer face for all time to come!” But his hand did not close upon the figure of the jealous girl; she was beyond his reach. “Pll mark ye now!” he hissed, as a revolver esto from his belt. ‘It won’t be an eye-shot, ut— Quartz Dick cocked the weapon; but did not lift it at the flying girl. A figure had stepped from the lodge before him, and he stood face to face with his hand- some young rival, Kiowa Charley. CHAPTER XIII. THE GOLD GIRL AND HER RIVAL, Sraria, the jealous Gold Girl, saved from Quartz Dick’s pistol by the sudden appearance of Kiowa Charley, continued her flight. The knife, still clutched tightly in her hand, stretched its shining length along her beautiful arm. This blade she had promised herself to dye with the blood of Bessie Lincoln, for had not Kiowa Charley brought her to the village to po her (Staria) in his heart? e had marked the lodge to which the ma- jor’s daughter had been taken by the white <iowa; and she was on her way to it when stopped and questioned by Quartz Dick, as al- ready recorded. She knew the villain well from whose clutches she had torn herself, and she expected a ball in the back as she darted away. But as none came, she congratulated herself, wondering why the bully did not shoot. Continuing her course, the Gold Girl did not pause until she reached a lodge which had no characteristics that distinguished it above the many others that surrounded it. But the eyes of the revengeful girl sparkled as she gazed, and gliding up to the skins she listened with intense eagerness visible on her varying countenance. At last with nervous fingers she parted the curtains, and admitted a flood of moonlight, the knife slightly raised from her arm and the member drawn back as if ready for a blow. The interior of the wigwam was dimly light- ed; it was filled with silence, too, and Staria could not distinguish the object of her ire. With her heart in her throat, she stood there, listening and looking for many seconds. 4 ae last a movement within made her draw ack. The lodge was inhabited after all. “Tt is one of my sex!” Staria heard a voice say. ‘‘She does not look like an Indian girl. Can it be that one of my own race is here to befriend me in this wild country?” With the last word still falling from the lips of the indistinguishable speaker, a figure came forward—the lamb was walking straight into the wolf’s jaws. : ‘“‘Ah! you area sister of mine! How happy Tam!” . Staria started back, for the girl whom she sought—Bessie Lincoln—stood before her, with her young heart full of woman’s trustfulness, Kiowa Charley, the White Mustanger. il and with her empty hands extended toward her. It was a strange scene! jealous and plead- ing innocence face to face in the d of the savage. “*] was right!” continued Bessie as if address- ing some one at her side while she continued to gaze into the face of the startled Gold Girl. “She is not an Indian. I shall find a friend, now that Iam in need. She will help to com- fort me, and, as many of my sex have done be- fore, help to save. Sister?” Bessie Lincoln advanced to the wigwam-door as the gentle appellation fell from her tongue, and showed herself in the pee ra with her rich dark hair falling bountifwlly over her shoulders, and her handsome figure in an ad- mirable pose. Staria instinctively hid the knife; there was something about her whiter sister that made the blade creep out of sight. —_ “You are not dumb!” cried Bessie. ‘Tama captive here—I am alone and in need of friend- ship. I would like to have you for my sister, for captivity without a companion is dreary be- yond description.” The voice of the soldier’s daughter was full of sweetness, ; The fierce eyes of the Gold Girl softened be- ore it. ' But her fingers still clutched the knife sharp- ened for the victim standing lamb-like before her. ‘*No! no!” she cried. ‘‘The new girl cannot be Staria’s sister. There is a wide trail be- tween them!” ‘* Why do you call me a new girl?” ‘*Staria is the old one now. She was not two sleeps ago. Then Kiowa Charley smiled only for her; then he came to her lodge and sat a long time, while his voice, sweet as the song of the night-bird, filled her ears.” “T see! I see!” exclaimed Bessie. ‘‘The girl is jealous; she is in love with the youn man who took me from the lodge to which tha strange being carried me. o his name is Kiowa Charley. Ah! he is fortunate to be loved by such a pretty creature. I wonder how far she would carry her jealousy?” Then Bessie stepped fairly into the moon- light, and toward the yellow girl. ‘“‘Then I am the new girl—Kiowa Charley’s last love?” she said with a smile, ‘* You should not get angry at that. In our land we win hearts wherever we can. I shall exercise the same right here. There are good-looking chief's here who would chase the buffalo to the rivers of the north or hunt the eagle on the highest cliffs of the Rockies for ee smiles. Why, my . sister, you could set all Kiowa-land in an up- neyo you to put your charms on the mar- cet. , Much of Bessie’s speech was unintelligible to Staria; but she caught the drift of it, 6 new irl recommended her to confine her heart con- quests to the young red scalpers and marauders of the plains, and abandon to her wiles the pos- session of Charley the white Kiowa. This was enough to bring the mad blaze back to her eyes; it could have had no other effect. Like the Malay, unable to control himself, jtaria sprung forward. **So the new girl has resolved to take the mustang king from the Gold Girl?’ she cried. ‘‘She has come from the land where the strong lodges of the white people outnumber the flowers on the plains to steal him away. What did she say about the man with the strange face?” ‘He found me on_the plains afar off, and brought me to this Indian town,” answered Bessie. ‘‘He put me ina wigwam here and went away. Presently Kiowa Charley came and rescuing me from the mystery, conveyed me to this lodge.” f Staria shook her head incredulously. “The tongue of the new girl treads a soft path ; but she made it before she saw Steria, The wild mystery never enters the village; his home is where no Kiowa has ever been; the mustan follow where he leads, but never, never has he come into the lodges of the red ple. Thus Staria breaks the aretsy ath the new girl’s tongue has made. But let her answer the Gol Girl. What does she intend doing ‘—when will she leave the land of the Kiowas? “As soon asI can; you may depend upon that. I have a father in one of the United States forts. My heart is always with him.” ae it is not with Charley, the Kiowa, eh? : with a smile. “Then we cannot be sisters; he cannot love the new girl and Staria at the same time. old. ‘Tf you will have it so—yes!” Bessie said,
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ae 12 that land from whence the cold wind comes the white: man has many squaws; but he cannot have many here. Up there the laws says ‘ yes,’ here the knife says no !” Bessie Lincoln sprung back with a ery of hor- ror that made her blood run cold. For the first time she saw the knife that. glit- tered in the Gold Girl’s hand. ‘Merciful heavens! I’ve roused a tigress!” fell from her lips. ‘‘I did not intend that my words should produce such result. What can I do? Can I talk her jealous anger down?” Simultaneous with Bessie Lincoln’s shrinking back Staria bounded forward, and her left hand with the quickness of the cobra’s dart closed about her wrist. ‘*My sister—” “No sister!” was the interruption. “The new girl shall not steal the king of the mustangs from Staria. She has sharpened the knife that shines in her hands for the heart that came from the north to take him from her lodge. See! the ' moonbeams dance along it like little Kiowa girls dancing at the dog-feast. When Staria strikes they cannot be seen, for the blood of the new girl will hide them!’ Bessie Lincoln could not ery aloud. She felt the hand of the Gold Girl, cold as ice, at her wrist; she saw the basilisk eyes that gleamed in her head, and’ then glanced at the slender blade. ‘*Am I to die thus?’ she thought. ‘‘Is this to be my doom far from father’s embrace? Oh, or gm help me, for I am powerless to help my. self. All volition had deserted the soldier’s child: she was as completely in the power of the jeal- _ous girl, as the criminal is in the hands of the executioner. ““Staria will not let two people tread the path that leads to Kiowa Charley’s heart! It was made for one: it is not wide enough for two. The hands that made it gave it to the Gold Girl, and she fringed it with many fiowers. Does the new girl grow white? Ah! she thinks of the wrong step she has taken. Did the fame of Charley reach clean to the settled land of the whites? If she cannot speak, the knife that clears the path will do its work. Quartz Dick shoots but once, and his bullet finds the eye of his foe. Staria, the Gold Girl, makes one stroke, and che knife touches the heart that loves, hates, and steals!” As the last words fell hissing from the lips of the beautiful demoness, the knife shot upward, and the next moment the frenzied arm came down, but with a cry of pain ringing out upon the crisp November air. This ery, pealing not from Bessie’s lips but Staria’s, followed quickly upon the twang of a bow-string, and in the arm which had sent the knife toward the new girl’s heart, the barbed shaft of an Indian arrow stuck! Of course the Gold Girl’s grasp on Bessie’s wrist relaxed, and without a sound, but with the me of a person fatally wounded, the white girl reeled and fell through the cur- tains of the lodge. For a moment Staria stood alone where she had «struck, then she started forward, but halted suddenly, and leaped back. In the shadow of the lodge stood a boyish figure, and in his hands were clutched an In- dian bow at least five feet in length. ‘You? You?’ dropped in accents of surprise from the Gold Girls tongue. ‘‘ Does your ~ arrow find my flesh?’ And then turning she hastened away. The boy sprung forward. ‘‘Inez! Inez, my sister!” he cried. have pierced yonr heart; but I only pierced your arm, You are my sister, Inez; but you lifted your arm against the girl whose life Kit Car- son wants to save. Ah! she does not love Kiowa Charley. Inez, if you will come back, I will tell you all. Sister, will you not come back to Pepito?” ' But Staria, the jealous, had disappeared, and , the boy stood in the shadow of the lodge alone ' with his bow. ; Presently he crept forward and looked in. ; At the threshold lay Bessie Lincoln with a deathly pallor on her beautiful face, and a ‘} erimson stain on her bosom, ytd aang had he released the arrow too tar- He dropped the curtains and staggered “Santissima! what will Kit say when he knows?” he cried. ‘‘ Ah! the Seraph will not tell him, for he would curse him for not shoot- ‘ing sooner, and push him away from him for- ever! The last words were a wail. *T could | ee CHAPTER XIV. AT THE KNIFE’S POINT. THE shriek that pealed from the Gold Girl’s throat as the Seraph’s arrow pierced her arm startled the two men whom we left facing each other over the trampled snow—Kiowa Charley and Quartz Dick. They had stood motionless, but with tigerish eyes, whose glare seemed to devour during the interval between their unexpected meeting and the cry. Eac stant. A moment later a flying figure halted in their sight, and they beheld Staria about to start from the strange tableau presented to her gaze. ‘““The new girl showed fight!” exclaimed Quartz Dick. ‘‘ Kiowa, thar’s suthin’ the mat- ter with the yaller girl 1% The mustang king darted a searching glance at Staria. ‘Come up!’ he said in an imperative tone; but she did not move. ** She’s too at to obey,” Dick said with a broad smile illumining his dark face. ‘‘ Don’t you see you’ve lost all control over the crea- ture?” ‘**[ never had much,” was the low reply. ‘““More’n [ ever had! She'll listen to me. Staria?”’ At the sound of her name, the Gold Girl bounded forward, nor paused until she stood almost between the rivals. “ An arrer in her arm!” exclaimed Quartz Dick. ‘‘That’s what produced the cry. Who guv ye thet present, girl?” Kiowa Charley waited with much eagerness for her answer. ‘*Quartz Dick may ask; but the Gold G'rl need not speak.” ‘¢ Woman ag’in’ woman, and yer ashamed to acknowledge the corn,” laughed the bully gruffly. “*T didn’t know thet the new girl could handle the bow.” “The new girl did not give Staria the shaft,” flashed the a girl, with a glance of hatred at Kiowa Charley. ‘‘But she got the knife oe came down when the bow-string sound- ed. ‘© What is that?” and Charley shot toward the speaker. ‘‘Did you give Bessie Lincoln the length of your jealous blade? Have you mur- dered the innocent girl whom I wrenched from the arms of a villain not three hours since? Tell me the truth, Staria—tell it without reserve, or— “Tech ’er while I’ve got the eye-drop on yer, Charley, an’ ye’ll go but one eye on things over the dark river.” Well might the young mustanger quail before the deadly revolver which, held by a hand that never trembled, looked at him from over the yellow girl’s shoulder. Behind the weapon glared the devilish eyes of Quartz Dick. “T’ve got the drop thet is death!” was the continuation. ‘Don’t lay hands on the girl, Kiowa. She hes already said that she gave the new girl the knife; ov course she got the hull length ov it, fur did y° ever know a jealous Mie to be satisfied with jest prickin’ the skin? Kiowa Charley’s hand mechanically shrunk from the arrowed arm it was about to touch. He must have felt at that moment that he was lost. His most inveterate enemy held his life in his lawless hand; his own quickness with the pistol—and he was master of that weapon— os - notsave him if Quartz Dick really wanted to kill. His hand went down, but it fell as if b chance upon the butt of his own majestic pistol. a Charley, the new girl, I guess, hes handed in her checks. We won't hev to fight for her.” “The secret of Quartz Dick’s flashing eyes seemed to have been revealed by his last sen- tence. ‘* So you wanted her?” “cc Yes \?? The girl turned upon the bully. “Dick want new girl, eh?” * Sartainly! You've killed my girl, not Kio- wa’s. Staria turned bewildered upon the young mustanger. ; *“Then Charley no hate the Gold Girl? The new sweetheart belong to Dick. Ha! ha! pene thought she had stolen Kiowa’s heart. ow— ‘*Stand off! I don’t want to touch you, mur- deress, when your hands are red with the blood of the purest woman that ever trod the soil of this accursed redskinned village. Poor, mad seemed to recognize it at the same in- Kiowa Charley, the White Mustanger. thing! you were jealous without cause. I never, never loved you. I never told you | did not, but now I do, and accompany my words with a loathing that should blight you where you stand. I wish that arrow had pierced your heart—no! no! Tl take that back., I want you to live to find your baby brother, even though he gets a sister whose insane ei has red- dened her hands with blood. Don’t come nigh me—don’t, I say. Id rather embrace a moun- tain cat than you!” ‘Great Caesar!” gasped Quartz Dick. ‘Char- ley, you don’t b’long hyar. Yer place is in the theater. Vl spare yer eye if you promise to go on the stage an’ get off such a piece ov actin’ as you’ve just done.” Kiowa Charley’s reply wasa fierce mad glance at the robust eudlas, whose sarcasm cut him to the heart. The effect of the mustanger’s sentences upon the girl wasstartling. At hisstern ‘‘stand off!” she stopped suddenly, and then listened like a prisoner undergoing sentence to the words that followed. She trembled while she listened, and more -than once seemed on the eve of falling. Quartz Dick had hardly concluded his remarks before he supplemented them with a loud cry. “The girl! The gir]! by George! She is goin’ to fall.” Simultaneous was the leap of the enemies to Staria’s assistance; but before a hand touched her she went forward with a wailing cry, and fell with her face 2 against the snow. The two men almost collided. over her pros- trate form. Their hands were on their pistols. The wea- pons at full cock glittered in the moonlight. ‘‘ What do you say, Kiowa?” said Quartz Dick. “‘T am ready!” ‘* Pistols or knives?” “‘T am not particular.” “Devilish easy to please. I always knowed thar was gritin yer. Two girls hev went under on our account to-night—more on yours though than mine. We ought to fight over the last one —a girl that loved till it killed her.” Kiowa Charley looked at the faultless figure lying so quiet at his feet. ‘“Oh, she’s dead! Faintin’ people don’t lie that way.” © Dead!” groaned the young mustanger. ““ Dick, I hope you’re mistaken. I tore that girl from the Apaches, and got three arrows in the back for doing it. More than one long trail I have traveled to find her brother—a little fel- low named Pepito. But I never made love to her. I could not do that. Ihave been kind to her. There ain’t a drop of blood in Kiowa Charley’s veins that he would not have given to save her life. Now she’s dead, and Pepito, the brother, is still unfound. She has kept me among these Indians for five years. I have an- other home, My heart is there every day, every hour, but she said: ‘‘ Stay, Charley,” and I re- mained hunting for Pepito—” “ An’ ridin’ a white mustang o’ nights over the plains an’ scarin’ the grittiest Injuns nigh onto death.” The young mustanger started violently. ‘‘Qh, I know!” was the triumphant sneer. ‘‘ Listen! I thought I heard the old chief’s sig- nal awhile ago. There itgoesag’in. Santanta is coming back. What would he say war I to tell im about the mystery?” ‘Go and tell him!” cried Kiowa Charley. “‘No! we war talkin’ about fightin’ a duel. You say you ar’ not particular ez to the weep- ins. Wil you stan’ by my choice?” “T willl? The heavy revolver that Quartz Dick had held in his hand some time was thrust sudden! into the broad leathern belt that girded his loins. Tbe next moment he drew a murderous look- in’ knife.. E “Your blade out-measures mine by two in- ches,” Kiowa Charley said holding up his own knife which looked ludicrously diminutive aside of Dick’s. } ‘“Thet’s a plaything!” cried the ruffian in de- rision. ‘The point wouldn’t tech my heart, ef e druv hilt an’ allin. Ilike as’archer—a reg’- ar life-hunter! Ever kill anything with thet knife?” “You would be answered in Apache-land!” was the proud reply. “Ho! ho! an Apache is like a rabbit—you tech ’im an’ he’s dead. Stand ther 2 minute. Don’t tech the girl—mind thet, Kiowa!” With this onition stilf on his ton e, Quartz Dick bounded away, aud disappeared in his own domicile. ’ A moment later he reappeared carrying in. J “ wn
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a - ean 13 SE AT TE A ES STE ene Kiowa Charley, the White Mustanger. *‘Do you believe what the Injuns do about i ** Fresh?” that he griped with his right. the fever lodges?” ‘“* Feel ’em!” “This ar’ more like it!” ho said extending “Tif I did ’d go down thar an’ tell ’em thet I The next instant Simon Brane’s left hand was the weapon just obtained toward Kiowa Char-| war Simon Brane. I’m not afeard ov the bloody! ley who having returned his own knife to his | fever.” ‘Great Jehosaphat!” he gasped. ‘ Whar belt grasped it with avidity. ‘‘Thar’s blood on Old Experiment did not reply; but slid from | did you git ’em?” it, but not human blood, I tracked a b’ar in | his horse, and began to remove the bridle; and af Whar they growed. I more’n half suspec- It war arter night; we war both swimmin’ the river, an’ hed a collision, a b’ar-killin’ blade. Now we're es Kiowa Charley drew his handsome figure to its full hight, and looked into his foe’s dark face. He was ready. : ‘““Weve got no seconds,” said Quartz Dick. “ What will we do?” “How often has Santanta signaled the vil- 0? Simon, without questioning him, followed his example. we'll call it Death’s Hotel, fur thet is what we'll make it fur Kit Carson’s sake. You know an’ I know, thet an a wouldn’t tech one o’ them lodges fur the hull world. They’re full ov the bones ov red-skins what war cut off by the fever —they’re kind ov graves. From what Quartz Dick said afore Rocky Mountain Kit introduced ted thet death would take a walk afore mornin’. This.is but a beginnin’. D’ve got two bits ov -otan an’ Ov course a scrimmage. I’m generous, ts y plan is this,” said Experiment, coming | news: first, Santanta’s comin’ back; I jist heard Kiowa. I always was. You’ve got the better | up to Simon with the bridle in his hand. We'll | his first yell: second, thar’s a livin’ bein’ in the knife. It isn’t disgraceful to go under by sech | take up our quarters in one oy the fever lodges; | next fever lodge.” / “A livin’ bein’?” echoed Simon. ‘ Who kin it be?” “Thet’s what we don’t know: but we must. Somebody hidin’ from the Injuns fur a purpose, like ourselves, probably.” Simon grasped Old Experiment’s shoulder, ‘““Mebbe—” he was excited—‘‘mebbe it’s lage? himself so sudden like, thar’s an Injun in one ov | Kit!” e ‘ Twice.” them with a bullet in bis eye. We'll be safe in ‘Kit Carson? No! I know whar be is. I ‘He will shout again. Threo times; it is the | the fever lodge. Santanta himself, brave as the | shot ten times and hit ten bodies. I didn’t give Kiowa custom you know. Let his third cry be | old chief is, would sooner lose his breathin’ ma- | any two the same ball. Rocky Mountain Kit our signal to begin the fight.” ‘*T’m satisfied. Kiowa, ef the new girl war- n’t dead ye’d be minus an eye to-night. To this the mustang king made nc reply. With the bear knife in his steady hand, he was waiting for the signal to hurl himself against his bitterest foe. Life and death hung on the seconds that re- corded the beating of their hearts. CHAPTER XV, THE FEVER LODGES. Ler us return to Old Experiment and Simon Brane whom we left riding from the Indian village. The latter had just informed his companion of the deplorable result of his last shots, for Si- mon had distinctly seen Kit Carson throw up his long arms and fall backward upon the snow. ‘Dead at last an’ not Injun slain either!” mentally exclaimed the trailer. ‘Old Kit’s words hey come true; he always said that I would be with him when he went under.” Filled with remorse for the fatal shot, and angered at Simon for not avenging Kit’s death, Old Experiment suddenly spurred his horse from the spot where they had halted. Sido by side they rode in silence for many minutes. ‘¢ Halt!” suddenly fell from Experiment’s lips. ‘Simon I’ve been thinkin’ deeper nor I ever be a afore for nigh an hour. I’m goin’ ! Simon Brane who had drawn rein looked— stared into his companion’s face. ‘*Goin’ back?’ he echoed. ‘* What for?” “To die where Kit went under, I suspect. I want to call up another class in spellin’.” Insane fury made the speaker’s dark eyes dance. “Yes, ’m goin’ back. Stay thar ef you ar’ not.” With the last word Nightwind was wheeled toward the Kiowa village, and a touch of the keen spur sent him off like an arrow in that di- rection. .**TPve see’d im mad afore, but never crazy!” muttered Simon Brane, gazing for a moment after the mad scalper and at the next he was galloping after him. ; ‘This is our last scalp hunt as true as death!” he went on as he sped over the snow in his ef- fort to overtake Old Experiment. ‘‘ Kit heda dream once up on the Big Cinnamon, and a speerit told ’im that we’d all die in the same race an’ nigh about the same time. The dream ar’ comin’ true. Wal, I’m ready.” At last his horse reached the lithe-limbed steed that bore Old Experiment toward the Kiowa ait an with ye, Experiment,” whispered Si- mon. But there was noreply. The mad trailer did not even turn his head; but Simon saw some glistening drops of water on his bronze cheek. They were for Kit Carson. _ _ For many minutes silence reigned over the two men who went over the gentile rolling lands with great rapidity. It was not until the brilliant moon showed chinery than look inside o’ them. Do you fully understan’ me, Simon? Ev’ry night death will walk through that rascally Injun town; he may take his first promenade to-night. I want to build Kit Carson a monument ov Kiowa bones. How does that proposition strike ye, Simon?” Simon Brane merely held out his hand, and the terrible compact of the leaderless avengers was sealed. The faithful steeds, dismissed to wander over the limitless plain, or to join the mustangs in the corral, the two men went forward and en- tered the indian town. The fever lodges, three in number, were the last ones in the line of wigwams that stretched to the north. A space of sixty feet separated them from the nearest inhabited wigwam. As Old Experiment had told Simon, they were stern reminders of the terrible fever scourge which, several years prior to the date of our romance, devastated the Indian lands south of the Arkansas, The Kiowas had suffered not less than their red neighbors. At Santanta’s command, the three lodges, large and commodious, became the hospitals for the village. Tho stricken chiefs were carried there, and there, one by one, they died. Nota body was removed, and the winds of the changing seasons whistling through the crevices of the dreaded charnel-house, dried the once strong arms, and shriveled the giant fig- ures of the sachems, No Indian would touch these strange sarco- phagi of their chiefs. The three fever lodges were given a wide berth, especially after sun- set, and they were, therefore, the last places in which they would hunt for a’ foe. Old Experimentand Simon Brane, the former in the lead, entered the village at a point a few rods south of these death receptacles. The wails of the Kiowas over the braves shot by the old sealper still filled the air. As yet, Staria had not sought Bessie Lincoln with the knife, and Kiowa Charley and Quartz Dick had not met for the duel. The lodges reached, Old Experiment lifted the skins untouched since the last chief had been borne in to die, and the twain entered. Darkness enveloped them; but Simon’s hands soon told them the nature of their abode. ‘‘Death’s Hotel ar’ full ov guests,” he said. 5 aha this ar’ the place fur ghosts.” *“Injuns don’t come back,” came the vie “What ar’ ye huntin’, a“ through the gloom. Simon?” **’m countin’ heads. The chiefs ar’ dried up; they’d go up in a good wharlwind.” Despite his nerve Old Experiment shuddered. To be shut upin a lodge inhabited by dead men was a situation not to his liking. He heard his comrade inspecting the forbid- ding 3 apa with his hands. ‘*He’ll amuse himself till I come back,’ he muttered, and the next instant he glided out, Simon Brane did ‘ amuse” himself. Confident that Old Experiment was standing at the opening, he was fearlessly examining the bodies of the fever-slain chiefs; nor was he called from his work until he heard his name fall from his companion’s tongue. ‘Simon, whar ar’ ye?” a is dead, an’ I’m the brute thet killed ’im!” “ But the livin’ man in the fever lodge?” “Yes! yes! the question is: who is he?” CHAPTER XVI. DEATH ON HORSEBACK. Fack to face with knives ready for the deadly onslaught stood Quartz Dick and Kiowa Charley, waiting for the third and last cry from the re- turning band. They knew that unless something startling occurred to interrupt it would certainly ring from Santanta’s throat, But it did not reply to the responsive cries that soared above the Indian village. “Tt is a long time coming!” thought Kiowa Charley. ‘‘Somothing has occurred!” said the bully to himself, : The mien of the young man before him sur- prised Quartz Dick. S With his handsome figure drawn to its full hight, Kiowa Charley presented a fearless front to the eye-shooter. Not a tremor passed over his shapely limbs; his eye did not quail be- fore the tigerish orbs of the ruffian. — ‘* Suthin’s happened to keep the signal back!” suddenly broke forth Quartz Dick, who could not stand the strain imposed by the momentous _ silence. ‘* Wait!” was the response. ‘It will come. Santanta breaks no custom of his race,” “Wait—till daylight? I’m not one of the waitin’ kind.” “Then let us get to work.” ‘See hyar, Kiowa, You're not actually spil- in’ for a fight: neither am I. We oughtn’t to make dese ov ourselyes. I don’t want your blood. Do you want mine?” Charley looked like a ote who was puzzled to reply to a question. He thought he detected a subtle meaning in Quartz Dick’s words. Was the bully really afraid of him? Suspecting oe he still held up the the knife bloody with the life current of Dick’s last oe ‘‘T don’t want your blood,” said the ea ‘Kiowa, I could kill you. For I’ve got the lunge in me, an’ you couldn’t avoid it. But I don’t want yer life. I war jest tryin’ yer grit; you've got enough to carry ye through the world. Cuss the signal we’ve been waitin’ fur! I give ys the life I’ve held in my hands fur the last half hour.” : aX Back into Quartz Dick’s belt dropped the un- stained knife with his last word. ‘*T don’t thank you,” was the mustanger’s answer. ‘Quartz Dick, you thought I would not fight you. I always said to myself that, whenever you faced me, you would find me ready to fight you tothe death. I knew you were bound to discover, sooner or later, that I was the cyclops of the plains. Now you sneak out of the ght you brought about. Is this your vaunted bravery, coward?” The epithet sent Quartz Dick’s hand to his knife. , ‘* No! not to-night, Kiowa. You can’t force me into a fight. Keep the b’ar knife: you’ll need it mebbe when we meet ag’in.” ; The next moment Kiowa Charley found him- them the white teepees of the Indians that Old “* Hyar!” self alone smiling at the ludicrous termination Experiment drew rein. : “Hold out yer hand. I want to put suthin’ | of his duel. Quartz Dick, with his back turned “Back ag’in!” he said, glancing at Simon. | in it.” upon him, was deliberately walking away. “They're still howlin’ over their dead. Long | With not a little curiosity, Simon extended | What was the bully saying to himself? since they hev cut Kit to pieces, an’ the little | the hand; but the next moment as his long fin- ‘* Thar’s more grit in the | vy than I thought. fool, too, [hope. We're Injuns yet, Simon, we | gers closed on a good quantity of coarse hair he | Ef the new gal warn’t dead, I’d ’a’ dropped ’im mus play the game a while longer; mebbe we'll in our checks with these queer duds on. Ar’ ye superstitious?” _ - What?” , ‘horror. spurng back, with an exclamation of genuine ‘“* What on airth—” ** Scalps! four ov ’em!” . See ee ee eee ee with the pistol; but when I said ‘‘ Knives” I hit him right. He’s carved afore; ef old Santanta had yelled I'd hav hed ’im on me like a cata- mount, an’ the b’ar knife would hev cut his , een eS aa
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14 initials on my heart. But wait, Kiowa! To- | morrer Santanta will see the mystery of the plains: TP’ll hev the pleasure of superintendin’ the interduction.” Kiowa Charley heard none of this. He had raised Staria from the snow, and was looking into her cold expressionless face. ‘The girl loves me,” he murmured. ‘I have raised her hopes to heaven, I have also dashed them down the hights of perdition. . She would die for me. The love of this girl is fixed; it is certain. She lives but there is blood on her hands—the blood of pretty Bessie Lincoln.” He made a move as if he would discard the lifeless body at the thought of the work of the jealous knife; but something—the unclosing of the soft eyelids—drew his attention toward it. “Staria?’ he said. ‘Charley! The new girl—” “T know it all; you told me before you fell.” But my knife did not kill. No! it could not, for Pepito’s arrow broke my blow. I saw the new girl fall; but she cannot be dead.” ee nk heaven! I wouldn’t have a life on your hands, girl, for all the loves in the world.” The beautiful arms of the Gold Girl went round the young mustanger’s neck. In thekiss that Kiowa Charley imprinted upon the upturned brow there seemed to be a love that would last forever. A moment later the twain were hurrying away, the strong arm of the mustanger support- ing the girl. hen they paused it was before a lodge whose curtains were partially separated. Eagerly Kiowa Charley bounded into the structure. ‘* Bessie?” he called. me, Miss Lincoln—” ; The sound of his voice in the wigwam made him break his sentence. “ Great heavens! she isnot here,” he gasped. “The new girl gone?” exclaimed a voice at his side, ‘‘ Did not the white Kiowa come this Or, if you will pardon way?” ; Biowa Charley turned upon the yellow girl. ‘By my soul, he did!” he cried. ‘He ‘been here—the tiger! He must have held a doubt of your success with the knife, which accounts for his cowardice. Bessie Lincoln has fallen into hishands. Look here! do you not see those boot marks in the snow? They betray the thief, and the hyena at the same time. Ten minutes have not elapsed since we parted. If he has left the village, I know what horse he took, Come! I will prove it!” Kiowa Charley sprung down the Indian street. His right hand clutching Staria’s wrist, he al- most dragged her after him. A few bounds brought him to the stable. Tearing open the door he called: ‘* Midnight?, Morning?” A double whinny greeted his words, and two uine heads appeared at the opening. oat heir appearance nonpl the mustanger, and he stared into Staria’s face. ‘* Horses here! Where now are Dick and the new girl?” ‘‘Somewhere in the village! But we will find them. He would not take her to his hovel because he knows I wouldfind her there. Come, 1. No! let me first attend to your wound. at have I been thinking about to leave that arrow in your arm?” ‘ ‘‘ Arrow not hurt now. It came from Pepito, and it saved the life of the new girl!” There was a smile on the Gold Girl’s face as she extended her arm to Kiowa Charley. The shaft had gone clean through it, piercing the flesh only. As if used to such wounds, after a brief ex- amination the mustanger broke the barb at the point, and then dextrously withdrew it. “There was no poison on it, thank fortune!” he said, fervently. ‘‘Now go to your lodge and bathe the wound. I will hunt the Kiowa tiger.’ ; “Wound not sore. Staria will go with Char- K, Jealous yet,” thought the mustanger. “Then, come on.” Their course took them toward the northern rtion of the village, and ina few moments hey stood near the fever lod ges. As they reached a certain spot a yell, loud and clear, fell upon their ears. “The third cry at last!” said Kiowa Charley. ‘*Santanta is home once more,” Retreating into the shadow of one of the charnel-houses already described, he drew Staria him, and then looked at the cavalcade now dimly visible. It was a band of fifty In- | dians headed by the great chief Santanta. They for a visit to the Soutb- | were gaudily atti ern forts of the Government had resulted in a lavish distribution of presents so delightful to the young warrior’s eye. S$ Kk!’ suddenly cried Staria, clutching Kiowa Charley’s arm as she pointed at the van ofthe troop. ‘‘ Whorides at old Santanta’s side? Does not my brother know him?” “Tt is he, by Jove! the thief—the tiger!” Ina moment the man whose knee touched = Kiowa king’s was recognized by his young oe. Already, perhaps, Quartz Dick had told to Santanta the secret of the cyclopean rider. Kiowa Charley’s pistol flashed in the starlight. It went upward like a rocket, and covered the white ruffian. But at that moment a rough voice which he had heard before arrested his finger, already on the trigger. * First class in spellin’, stand up! Spell de’th an’ destruction !” Then bang! bang! bang! bang! The bullets whistled over Kiowa Charley’s head—and the foremost saddles—including Santanta’s and Quartz Dick’s, were emptied in a flash. Horrified and speechless, the mustanger turned. Not ten rods away, two gaunt figures were seated upon the backs of statue-like horses, and it was from the huge revolvers in their out- stretched hands that the death shots came. CHAPTER XVIII. WHICH ENDS OUR STORY. BEFORE witnessing the entire result of the deadly shots unexpectedly poured into Santan- ta’s band let us return to Old Experiment and Simon Brane whom we left in the fever lodge, discussing the identity of the tenant of the wig- wam adjoining theirs. Old Experiment, while returning from his successful scalp foray, had made the discovery. It was by no means a pleasant one. They had hoped to find the fever ‘lodges untenanted ex- cept by the dead; but one at least contained a living person—a mystery, as it were. The old scalpers could not solve the riddle. Simon suggested that it might be the Seraph; but Old Experiment declared that he had seen that individual gliding through a distant part of the village, therefore, he could not be the oc- cupant of the fever lodge. ‘Tl reckonoiter ou said Experiment. ** Keep a close fist on the scalps, Simon.” The old trailer went out; but five minutes did not elapse between his departure and return. ae hat’s up?’ queried Simon starting for- “Them hosses beat wolves for trackin’!” was the answer. ‘ They’re trackin’ us to this spot.” ‘*No!” exclaimed Simon incredulously, ‘* Come out an’ see.”’ The twain glided into the starlight. ** Look yonder!” cried Old Experiment point- ing to two horses not far off. Simon sprung forward. Sure enough; the animals were their own steeds! ** They'll betray us!” he said looking into his companion’s puzzled countenance, “They must not!” was the reply. ‘We one drive ’em away; we’ve got to ride ’em off. ‘‘ Then let’s be quick about it.” Simon vaulted upon the back of his horse; his example was followed by his companion. ‘Hark! thar goes the last yell. ntanta’s back. He’s blocked our way up; we can’t get out 4 the plains till he passes with his ac- cursed Injuns.” The two men seated on their horses in the shadow of the fever lodge understood the im- port of that yell. Old Experiment drew his revolvers. * He’s gettin’ mad ag’in,” said Simon to him- self; but while he spoke the old trailer took out his own weapons. ‘They saw Santanta and his band mt a Hel Simon watched Old Experiment as much as the motley cavalcade. All at once the thunderous tones of his com- | rade rung through and through him. “‘ First class in spellin’ stan’ up!” | Experiment. Kiowa Charley, the White Mustanger. Before that cruel fusilade even the fearless Indian of the plains could not stand. Santanta’s heroes broke and fled! The chief himself, having fallen from his sad- dle atthe first shot managed to cling to the long mane of his steed, and was carried far be- he the village to the wind-swept plains of the south, Quartz Dick, struck through the shoulder, by a bullet intended for his heart, was dashed to the ground; but sprung quickly upon his feet. ‘““The shootin’ devil hes come back!” he ahipbog” extricating himself unharmed, save y the bullet, from among the excited horses. ‘““He aimed too high this time: I usually carry my heart below my shoulder. Thunder au’ guns! they’re shootin’ yet; keepin’ on like clock- work.” The bully sprung toward one of the fever lodges. ‘The girl will not object to me hidin’ with her till the scrimmage is over,” he said. ‘“ Her hands ar’ soft, an’ she shall dress the shoulder ov her future husband.” Quartz Dick parted the curtains as he spoke. ** Bessie, my child, does the fightin’ outside frighten you? In all my life—” The ruffian did not pause of his own accord. A hand on his throat broke his sentence. “The gal needn’t be scared while I’m about!” was hissed in hisear. “I ought to thank you, Dick, fur bringing her right to me. Didn’t know I war hyar, eh?” Quartz Dick did not reply; but the voice and the hand at his throat told him who his con- fronter was. Kit Carson! **Wever lodges make good homes sometimes,” continued the voice. ‘Old Experiment shot orly for once, an’ I got one of his balls. His Rear didn’t send that bullet on its mission, I know thet. Thank fortune my Injun head-gear turned the lead aside and ] got hyar by strategy —hyar to this old fever lodge. An’ when you put the gal in hyar, Dick, bless my old soul! ef ou didn’t lay her in old Kit Carson’s arms. ut the shootin’—what did it amount to?” ‘‘ Santanta’s killed; and the Injuns scattered like sheep.” Dick’s trachea was partially re- leased. ‘‘ I never saw sech firin’.” ‘‘The spellin’ class didn’t stan’ up lon; Dick?” laughed Carson. ‘‘We’ll go ou see it.” The bully of Kiowa land was at the mercy of the man who held him. Rocky Mountain Kit dragged him into the starlight. ‘* Kit Carson, by my life!” exclaimed a rough voice. “ Whar?” ‘Yonder! look! he’s holdin’ skunk! Caught ’im somewhar. . Two men leaped from their horses and ran | co) rward. “Old Kit! by the jumpin’ jingo!” cried Old “Vm ready to pass in my dilapi- dated checks fur my hands don’t carry his blood on Pina The great Injun eddicator ar’ now ready— “No ig hyar!” was the stern seach! Ql tion. ‘‘We are still in the jaws ov deat Bessie Lincoln is safe. This man brought her unintentionally to me. Quartz Dick, our old enemy, has helped us. I hold him fast. Boys, he’s before you for sentence. Quick!” Old Experiment and Simon Brane exchanged lances. There was mercy in the eyes of the Cer: but none in his companion’s, ‘¢ Give him to me!” cried a 7oice Every listener turned upon the speaker. Kiowa Charley stood before the group. “He would not fight me awhile ags. He will w.” “T will!” flashed Quartz Dick. “il give ’im a chance to wield the b’ar knife!” Kit Carson’s hand fell from the bully’s throat, and whipping out his knife he sprung before his young rival. { “Tt isn’t our fight,” Kit said. “Tiger ag’in' tiger—that’s what it is. Come: we must git out of this.” ; Bounding back into the fever lodge, Kit, Car- eh. > an? Quartz Dick, the , “7 Then Old Experiment began firing with a | son disappeared for a moment; then his friends rapidity that dazed Simon. caught the infection, and his pistols went up oa flashed their death fire into the faces of the ndians. We have said that saddles were emptied in | quick succession. If the shots were rash ones | were at least deadly in execution. vil‘ainously attacked, ¥ .th such precision ana rapidity. Unwittingly he | heard him calling them from the other side. Hastening to his side they beheld him stand- ing beside a fair white girl. A knife glittered in his hand; he had cut his way through the wigwam. he retreat from the village was precipivate, er € f | but orderly. -afusion took possession of the band thus | ; t Kiowa Charley and the | G_.d Girl could en. 7 stare at the men who shot | | the scenes of danger. Once more Kit Carson bestrode Santa A. na, and the lithe-limbed mustang which they 1 2k from the corral bore Bessie Lincoln swiftly fr ae
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_——_ | ‘*Once more on the plains! Now I would like to meet that one eyed-sphinx who rides the white horse. We're not far from the spot where I first encountered him.” It was Kit Carson who spoke. Old Experiment and Simon Brane exchanged significant glances. ‘“‘ Mebbe we'll see ’im yet,” said the former. The November sun, by no means cold, was melting the snow that covered the plains. Its surface was glistening like a sheet of pearls. A party of four—three men and a fair young girl mounted on horses, were looking at a little cavalcade that was pemdly approaching. All at once one of the men turned upon the person who sat beside the girl. “*T kin tell ye which ov ’em come out o’ the fight best,” he said. ‘‘ Kiowa Charley!” The girl started at the mention of the name, and her cheeks betrayed the beating of her heart. ‘Ts he comin’?” ‘Yes; an’ the Seraph, too.” ‘The Seraph?” echoed Kit Carson. “What! has the boy remained behind us? You said he left the village on the hunt of me!” ‘So he did, jest afore our last tussle; but he must hev come back. Now you kin see fur yer- self, Kit.” ‘“*] see! I see!” exclaimed the old pathfinder. A few minutes later the parties met on the boundless plain. Kiowa Charley, Pepito and Staria sat before Kit Carson and his band. “Thar’s the mystery!” said Old Experiment, pointing to the young mustanger who smiled in acknowledgment. ‘‘He’s got two eyes now like all who don’t wear Quartz Dick’s mark.” Kiowa Charley rode up to Carson. ‘We were friends once,” he said. ; ‘Friends yet!” was the answer, and their hands met. ‘‘ Whar’s Quartz Dick?” ‘‘ Where his bear-knife left him—dead on the snow.” **T knowed it!” broke in Old Experiment. ‘TI hed confidence in ye, boy.” When the sun went down a party of seven rode northward. companion, Kiowa Charley. ‘*The boy, Pepito, believes it at last,” he said to the major’s daughter. ‘It is a strange ro- mance. Long ago Staria lost a brother, the boy a sister. Until yesterday they thought they were brother and sister. Pepito’s wonderful memory proved it otherwise. There were marks on his sister’s shoulders: there are none on Staria’s. Since the young folks have discovered this, a new and eminently proper attachment has sprung up between them. ere are man romances in real life. Look at the young couple now. Bessie Lincoln glanced at the Gold Girl and Pepito riding side by side, and then, witha smile and blush, turned to her escort. ‘‘T sec!” she said gently. How could it be otherwise?” Reader, there has been but little love-making in the course of our exciting story. Let us say that a was kept busy during the ride to Fort Sil arms once more thrown about her. The girl’s return was most unexpected, as a force had been sent out on the trail of the captured wagon. Somehow or other our friends had missed the blue-coated trailers who returned several days later, of course without Bessie. Kiowa Charley explained the cause of the In- dian’s non-pursuit. Santanta was missing after the fight, and the whole village turned out to find the king of the Kiowas. He was found at last, nearer death than life, but not until it was too late to pursue the workers of the mischief. In Fort Sill Kit Carson said that he had had his last scalp-hunt, which was true; for a few months later—after witnessing the betrothal of the Seraph, his protege and the beautiful Gold Girl—the old guide stepped upon the last long trail which was a path of rest. : As for Old Experiment and Simon Brane, they are still together on the frontier in the ser- vice of the Government; and more than once since their last exciting night in Kiowa land the Indian has heard the voice of the ‘‘ great eddi- eator” ordering the “first class in spellin’” to ‘stan’ up.” : Here, reader, the pen, its work for the present done, falls from our hands, as we learn that Charles Montgomery (Kiowa Charley, if you lease) and his lovely little wife are visiting ior Lincoln at old Fort Sill. us, in a new role the Mystery reappears. THE END, Bessie Lincoln had a new | where Bessie Lincoln found a father’s | Kiowa Charley, the Beadle’s Dime Library. 1 A Harp Crowp. By Philip 8. 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1 Deadwood Dick, Tar Princz or THE Roap. By Edward L. Wheeler, Yellowstone Jack; or, Toe TRAPPER OF THE ENCHANTED GrounD. By J. E. Badger, Jr. Kansas King; or, THe Rep Ricat Hanp. By Buffalo Bill (Hon. Wm. F. Cody). The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Capt. Frederick Whittaker, 5 Vagabond Joe; THz Youne WANDER- Inc Jew. By Oll Coomes. 6 Bill Biddon, Trapper; or, THE NortTHwest. By Edward 8. Ellis, e The Flying Yankee; or, Tux OczANn Ovrceast. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. fe Seth Jones; or, THe CaprivEs OF THE Frontier. By Edward 8, Ellis. 9 The Adventures of Baron Mun- chausen., 10 Nat Todd; or, THe Fare or THE 1 1 Sioux Caprivr. By Edward §. Ellis. Robinson Crusoe. His Life and LIFE IN The Two Detectives; or, THE Fortunes of A Bowery Grau, A.W, Aiken, 1 Galliver's) Travels. “ A. Voyage to Lilliput, and a Voyage to Brobdingnag. 1 The Dumb Spy. By Oll Coomes, author of “ Vagabond Joe,” etc. 1 4. Aladdin; or, Tse Wonprrroi Lamp. The Sea-Cat; or, TH# Wriron or Darien, By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 16 Surprising Adventures, (27 illustrations.) 17 Ralph Roy, The Boy Bucca- neer. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 1 fu; Sindbad the Sailor. His seven voy- 3; or, THE Pmor ages. From the Arabian Nights. 19 The Phantom Sp or THE Pratrniz. By Buffalo Bill. 20 The Double Daggers; or, Drap- woop Dick’s Dmriance, By E. L. Wheeler, 21 Frontier Angel. A Romance of Kentucky Rangers’ Life. By E. 8. Ellis. 2 The Sea Serpent; or, THE Boy Rosrson Crusoe. By Col, Ri uan Lewis, 23 Nick o’ the Nig! t; or, THE Boy Spy or 76, By T. C. Harbaugh, 24 Diamond Dirk; or, Toe Mystery oF THE YELLOWSTONE. By Col. Ingraham. 2 5 The Boy Captain; or, THe Prratx’s DaveutTer. By Roger Starbuck. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Demon. By 27 Edward L, Wheeler. Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. By Ol] Coome.s QR Buffalo Ben; or, Dkapwoop Dick In Disauise. By Edward L. Wheeler. 29 The Dumb Page; or, THE Doar’s Davoatrr. B “4 F. Whittaker, 30 Roaring Ralph ockwood, THE Reckiess Rancer. By Harry St. George. 31 Keen-Knife, THE PRINCE OF THE Prarmies. By Oll Coomes. 32 Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian; or, Tue Girt Deap-Suor, E, L. Wheeler. 33 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, THE Rep PrraTEs oF THE CaRisBEEs, 5.W. Pierce. 34 Oregon Sol; or, Nick WuirF es’ Boy Sry. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams. 3 5 Wild Ivan, Tue Boy CLaupg DuvaL; By Edward L. Wheeler. 36 The Boy Clown; or, THE QUEEN OF THe ARENA. By Frank §. Finn. 37 The Hidden Lodge; or, T= Litrie HUNTER OF THE ADIRONDACKS. Harbaugh. 38 Ned Wylde, Tux Boy Scour. By Texas Jack. 3 Death-Face, the Detective. By Ed vard L. Wheeler. 40 Roving Ben. A story of a Young American. By John J. Marshall. 41 Lasso Jack, THz Youna MustTanc- ER. By Oll Coomes. r 42 The Phantom Miner; or, Drap- woop Dick’s Bonanza, By Ed, L. Wheeler. 43 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. By Capt. F. Whittaker. 44. Rattling Rube; or, THe Nicut- HAWKS OF KENTUOKY. By Harry St. George. 4 Old Avalanche, the Great An- nihilator. By Edward L. Wheeler. AG Glass Eye, the Great Shot ofthe West. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, 47 Nightingale Nat; ox, THE Forrst ApTains. By T. U. Harbaugh. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent. By Jos. E, Badger, Jr. A9 Omaha Oll; or, Drapwoop DIck IN Dancer. By Edward L. Wheeler. ~ BEADLE’S HALF-JIME LIBRARY. Every one of them ‘ Live” Stories by “Live” Authors. Each number a Complete Novel, at the extraordinary price of a HALF-DIME., 50 Burt Bunker, Tue Trapper. A Tale of the Northwest. By C. E. Lasalle, 51 The oy Rifles; or, THe UnpDER- GRouND Camp, By Archie OC. Iron, 52 The White Buffalo. A Tale of Strange Adventure. Charles E. Lasalle. 53 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., Tux Boy PHEnix; or, THROUGH TO THE Deatu, E. L. Wheeler. 5 4 Ned Hazel, Tur Boy TRAPPER; or, THE PHANTOM Princess. By J. F. C. Adams, 5 5 Deadly-Eye, Taz Unknown Scout; By Buffalo Bill. 56 Nick Whiffles’ Pet; or, In THE VaLuLEy or DeatH. Capt. J. F.C, Adama, 5 we Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, THE Parps oF FLoop Bar, E. L. Wheeler, 5 & The Border King; or, Taz SECRET For. By Oll Coomes. 59 Old Hickory, or, Panpy ELLIs’s G Scatp, By Harry St. George. The White Indian; or, Taz Scour or THE YELLOWSTONE. By J. F.C. Adams, 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, Taz Rep Rirtz Team. By Edward L. Wheeler. 62 The Shadow Spo or, THe Rrvau LJEUTENANTS, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 63 The Red Brotherhood; or, THz TWELVE AVENGERS, By W. J. Hamilton. 64 Dandy Jack; or, Tue OvurLaw oF THE Hurricane Bill; or, Mustana Sam AND HIS ‘‘ParpD.”” By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 66 Single Hand; or, A Lirz ror A Lirs. By W. J. Hamilton, TLESNAKE, THE CHARMER. By P.S.Warne. 68 The Border Robin Hood; or, THz 69 Gold Rifle; or, Taz Boy Dxrectrve 70 Old Zip’s Cabin; or, Tam Green- HORN IN THE Woops. By J. F.C. Adams. a@eR Spy. By Oll Coomes, 42 Mad Tom Western, Taz Texan q 3 Deadwood Dick on Deck. By Hawk-eye 5 ran Trapper RANGER. By Oll Coomes, oF THE Ska WoLF. By Col. P. Ingraham, “6 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. By of a Corduroy Charlie; or, Taz Last Acr or DEapwoop Dick. By E, L. Wheeler. VENGEANCE. By Captain Mayne Reid. ef 9 Sol Ginger, Tux Giant Trapper, By & Rosebud Rob; or, Nucaet Nzp, THE KNIGHT oF THE GuLCH. By E. L. Wheeler. yy Captain J. F. C. Adams. &2 Kit Harefoot, Tuz Woop-Hawsg; or, 3 Rollo, the Boy Ranger; or, THE Herress oF THE GOLDEN Horn, Oll Coomes, B ON Hanp. By Edward :. Wheeler, = 5 Buck Buckram; or, BEss, THE F'x- 6 Dandy Rock, Tar-MAN-FROM-TEX- as. By G. Waldo Browne. e) 7 or Drviw’s IsLanp. By Capt. Mayne Reid. ph Phil; or, Rosresup &Q Island Jim; or, THe PET OF THE Famaity. By author of “Jack Harkaway.” 90 Duruist. By George W. Browne, The Captain of the Club. By 92 Canada Chet; or, OLD ANACONDA tN Srrrine Buiu’s Camp, By E, L. Wheeler IstaNm By Edward 8. 9 4. Midnight Jack, Tuz Roap-Acent 9 5 The Rival Rovers. By Lieutenant 6 REGON Tram. By T. C. Harbaugh. 67 Patent-Leather Joe; or, OLp Rat- Prarriz Rover. By Buffalo Bill. oF THE Buack Rancw, By E. L. Wheeler. 1 Delaware Dick; THz Youne Ran- RANGER. By W. J. Hamilton. Edward L. Wheeler. q 4. THe YOUNG The Boy Duelist; or, Tor Crouisx Albert W. Aiken. 4a & Blue Dick; or, THz YeLLow Curmr’s Albert W. Aiken. RI Lighenin Jo, THe TERROR OF THE RAIRIE. Oup PowpErR-Facn. By T. C. Harbaugh. & 4. Idyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosrsup MALE TRAPPER. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, The Land Pirates; or, THE LEAGUE Photo 8 § Hobe taierdiniiice By Ed. L. Wheeler. The Dread Rider; or, THE TEXAN 9 1 Bracebridge Hemyng, (Jack Harkaway.) 9 3 The Boy Miners; or, THE ENCHANTED Ellis, By T. C. Harbaugh. Col, Hazeltine. Watch - Eye, Taz Dzrzcrrve. By Edward L. eeler. 97 The Outlaw Brothers; or, Tas Captive or THE Harres, By J. J. Marshall. 98 Robin Hood, Tax OurLawep EaRL. By Prof. Stewart Gildersleeve. The Ti f T By George Waldo sacha pou sé 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville. By Edward L. Wheeler, 1 O 1 Jack Harkaway in New York. By Bracebridge Hemyng, 102 Dick Dead-Eye, Tur Boy Suve- GLER. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 103 aha Lise of the Sea. By Col. 104 Deadwood Lee Device, By 105 Old Rube, Tur Hunter; or, Taz Crow Captive. By Capt. H. Holmes. 106 Old Frosty, the Guide. By T. C. Harbaugh. 107 One-Eyed Sim; or, Tue ABAN- DONED Forest Homr, By J. L. Bowen. 10 & Daring Davy, Tux Youne Bear Kier. By Harry St. George, 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler. 1 10 The Black Steed of the Prai- ries. By James L. Bowen, 1 1 1 The Sea-Devil; or, Taz Mmsurr- man’s Lecacy. By Col. P. Ingraham. 1 12 The Mad Hunter; or, Tuz Cave or DeatH. By Burton Saxe, 1 13 Jack Hoyle, THz Youne Srrcvu- LaTorR. By Edward L. Wheeler, 1 1 4 The Black Schooner. By Roger STARBUCK. 1 1 5 The Mad Miner. By Grorcs Waxpo Browne. 1 16 The Hussar Captain. By Cou. Prentiss INGRAHAM, 1 1 7 Gilt-Edged Dick, Tux Sport-Dr-. TECTIVE. By Edward L. Wheeler, 1 1 & Will Somers, THz Boy Dero. TIvE. By Charles Morris, 1 1 9 Mustang Sam; or, Ter Kine op THE Puains. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 1 20 The Branded Hand; or, Tux Man or Mystery. By Frank Dumont, 1 21 Cinnamon Chip, Tuz Grau Sporr. By Edward L. eeler, Phil Hardy, The Boss ° 1 z By Charles Morris, ner 123 Kiowa Ohaxley; THe Wurtz Mus- TANGER, By T. C. Harbaugh. 1 24 Tippy: the Texan; or, THz Youna HAMPION. By Geo. Gleason, 12 5 Bonanza — Miners or, Ma- YSTERY, EMALE By Ed. L, Wheeler. = ane 126 Picayune Pete; or, Nicoprmus, THE Doe Derrcrive. By Chas, Morris. 127 Wild-Fire, Tue Boss or THE 12 The Young Privateer; or, THE Sto f Wild-Cat City. By Ed Wheeler. shy one a The Golden Hand; or, Danpy 1 32 The Hunted Hunter; or, Taz 13 Boss Bob, tHe Kina or THE A new issue every week, receipt of six cents each. Rob; on, Toe Wotvus or SaTan’s Gap, Peri PrRaTEs’ STRONGHOLD. By Harry Cav- 130 Detective Dick; or, Tuz Hzro Rook To THE Rescur. G. W. Browne. STRANGE HORSEMAN OF THE PRAIRIE. BooTBLacks; cr, THE METROPOLITAN The Half-Dime Library is for gale all Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. ; By Frank Dumont. 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double. A tin Rags. By Charles Morris, y January 27th. By Edward S. Ellis. Ready February 3d, Sporrern, By Edward L. Wheeler. Ready Feb 10th. Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on BEADLE & ADAMS.