Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 28) (1878 02 05)
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Vol. Il. ee of 5 Cents. THE PRINCE OF THE PISTOL; OR, Deadwood Dick in Disguise. A SEQUEL TO THE “ DOUBLE-DAGGERS.” BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, AUTHOR OF “WILDCAT BOB,’ “HURRICANE NELL,” “OLD AVALANCHE,”’ ‘‘ DEADWOOD DICK,”’ CLOVEN HOOF,” ‘‘ DOUBLE DAGGERS,’ ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I. THE TRAGEDY OF THE LONE CABIN. Pircuep down in the heart of a bleak Montana wilderness, under the shadow of towering, pine-clad mountains, and facing a majestic, rolling prairie; here in this land of the lurking savage and fierce wild beasts, stood a solitary cabin, alone in its desolation. It was strongly built, prob- ably with a view to defense, and ove wn with wild vines, now deadened to russet brown by the wintry blasts that swept across the dun prairie. One door was the only visible mode of entrance; a narrow window up in under the eaves admitted light to the interior. One wild, windy January day, years ago, two persons sat before a roaring fire inside this isolated cabin, conversing. One was a man of about sixty years, for his hair was snowy- white, and his face seamed with many furrows, put there by the hand of time. But de- spite his years he evidently was int to constant activi- ty and hardship. He was attired in the garb of a Nor’-western hunter; in truth, that was his calling, as was evidenced by the indis- eriminate collection of para- phernalia strewn about the cabin—guns, pistols, wr skins, and the many articles required by the hunter of the mountain and prairie. The man's companion was a young woman of some three- and-twenty years. She was very pretty of face and form, and in her whole appearance bespoke education, modesty and refinement, which is but unfrequently met with thus far beyond the bounds of civili- zation. She was light in com- plexion, with fair auburn hair, light brown eyes, and a mouth of tempting sweetness; and, too, her dress was unusually elegant and costly considering her rough surroundings; while diamonds and pearls graced her fair patrician fingers, her throat, and were tastefully ar- ranged in her hair. The interior of, the cabin did not speak of a woman's hand in its arrangement, for things were strewn about in a chaos of disorder and neglect. The furniture comprised a few rudely manufactured camp-stools, a table, and ses. eral piles of soft furs. ar ladies Ben h oo Copyrighted in 1878, by BEADLE AND ADAMS. BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. upon one of these piles the sof the young wo- man rested lovingly, while she conversed with the old hunter. Over the huge open fire-place, in which burned brightly a pile of seasoned hickory logs, were hung the hunter's limited supply of cooking utensils; in one end of the cabin, which was large and roomy, were innumerable fire-logs, showing that no neglect of the hunter had left him unprepared for the cold winter. “Phew!” the old man muttered, as he listened to the shrieking of the wind without, and the dismal sound of the blustering snow as it whirled in inces- sant eddies against the staunch cabin walls— phew! this ar’ a pesky bad day fer Jannerwary. I’ve cooped down in this ‘ere lattytude for nigh onter six year, and tan zs peltries ef I ever see’d a colder, more disagreeable snap. *Tain’t at all likely yer frien’s ‘ll cum down across Twenty-Mile Stretch in sich weather like this, marm,” ’ “ Ah! sir, you donot know them. Neither fire nor storm will stop them, once they strike we Be aM re- plied the youpg woman, shivering and glancing ap- BUFFALO BEN. = E it a i! /s No. 28. rehensively around. ‘‘ Friends, indeed! No bit- rer foes could a mortal have than they have been. With devilish perseverance they have followed me, like a k of bloodhounds; from place to place I have flown, endeavoring with my darling babes to escape death, but it seems as if the hand of God, as well as man, is turned against me!” . And the fair speaker burst into a fit of weeping, which lasted for several moments, during which the old hunter gazed grimly into the roaring fire. “Ye mus’n’t guv up the ghost like that, my gal,” he said, at last, his tone betraying the sympathy he felt forher. “ > one horny old paw that ain't turned ag‘in’ you, balance yer scales on that. Sum- how old Zeke Ransom has been s'picious an’ dis- trustful o’ the weemen sex, since when, a young beaver, he got his heart smashed up in a love affair. But ye’'re an excepshun, my pretiy—m downright dead-in-earnest excepshun, if ever thar was one. “When I met ye down to Yocum, yesterday, wi’ them two babies in yer arrums, an’ ye ‘peeled ter me fer purtection, says I to myself: ‘ 2eke Ransom, ef ye don’t take in thet purty fawn, ye're jest the orneriest, ugliest old sallyman- der thet evyer chawed leaden pills. Ther or thing ar’ needin’ friends, an’ w’at’s ter hinder yer takin’ her up ter Ransom Castle?’ So I fetched ye, an’ hayr ye be, snug an’ cozy, an’ still worritin’ about a passel o’ cussed black-legs as ar’ chasin’ ye, and givin’ ye trouble. Great gran’mothers! I do wish my boy Luke war hayr. He's only a small, lee- tle cuss 0’ fifteen, is Ae but a right rt sensible lad, fer all that, an’ he has a smashin’ way 0’ gittin’ inter the graces o’ the female line. He's a rattler, an’ no mistake. But Luke's rarely ever at hum, o' late year. ‘Off up nor’ wi’ a party o’ fur-traders, last I heerd o' him. May be back sumtime atwixt this an’ spring —may not; can’t tell. But Luke's an honest one, ef I do say et, an’ takes after his dad fer that. I'd never steal a pin whin Iked get my paws on a good rifle, or a cache o' peltry.”’ “I am very thankful for your kindness to me, sir,” re- lied the young woman, dry- ing her tears. “Yuu are the only one who has shown me the least friendliness since I was turned from home and hunted down by my persecu- tors. But I fear you have made a grievous error in bringing me here. My ene- mies will be sure to find me, and they will show you no mercy, old as you are, because you sheltered me under your roof.” “Don't ye worrit about old Zeke Ransom, my girly. He's better 'n six dead men, yit, ef he is past the sixty-third mile- post o’ his life; an’ can secre a dozen funerals enny day, when Injun are plentiful. “i eg his old eyes ain’t too blind to crawl along a rifle- bar'l, an’ ef yer enemies ‘ll only stan’ off at a respectful distance, hayr’s w'at kin an- gelize ‘em at the rate o’ fivea minute.” And the old hunter chuckled aloud, in anticipation of a good square scrimmage. “No doubt your prowess is wonderful, sir, but you lit-
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a a ea tle guess the odds against which you would have to cope. There were Sibert | Coahaaaig men on my trail when I left Helena, by a bad, fear- less man, whose whole life has been devoted to crime, These human bloodhounds will let nothing TE them—nothing / My death and the death of my children, yonder, is of vital importance to a certain person, and there is a matter of amillion of dollars de ending on my decease.” ’ The old hunter gave vent to a prolonged whistle, while he poked away at the roaring, ¢ fire. ‘““A milyun? Phew! that’s a heap of sponds, m gal. Reckon et ‘d take a fellar an eternity ter cotc beaver enuff ter amount to.a milyun. hat is yer story, marm? Ye needn’t be afeard ter confidy in old ‘Zeke Ransom, ‘ca’se he'll never go back on yer seekerts.” ‘ “T might tell you,” said the woman, musi — ‘*perhaps I will, presently; but, first, I must write— write that which will explain all, should my life be taken, and I feel that it will be, and thatsoon. Have you.ink and paper, sir?”’ “Ink an’ paper? Phew! I guess not, my lady. Them's luxuries we old Nor’-western cusses don’t boast of, I calkylate. I’ve gota chunk of plumbago, hayr, though, an’ yander in the chimbley jamb ar sum white wrappin’ paper w’at cum around sum tobaccy I got at Goodan. Reckon that’s about my stock o’ stashunary.” “Very well. I will try and make those articles an- swer my requirements.” Ransom procured the paper and lead, and then for more than an hour his strange guest busied herself in writing upon the coarse sheet. Finally she concluded, and tied the result of her la- bor 1 into a little roll. ‘‘This is my full history, so far as concerns any living person,” she said, staring thoughtfully into the fire. “I have written it, that in the event of your death and mine, the world may know at whose door to lay our murder. Now, where can I put it, so that if we die, sir, some one else will find it.”’ Old Zeke took the confessio», and weighed it in his horny palm—then scratched his white old head, studiously. “*Reckon thar ain’t much danger o’ our turnin’ up our toes, marm; but, still, ef you say so, I'll go an’ put it inter my boy Luke’s cache o’ Its, back in the wood, by the mountain, Most likely he’ll be ‘round to look after ‘em, toward spring, an’ll find yer docky ment,” “Good. That will be just the plan. Go, sir, at once, for something seems to tell me that my ene- mies are drawing near, and their coming means death to us, [ feel assured |’’ In compliance with her wish Old Zeke seized a shovel, and thrusting the ee into his pocket, left the cabin, going out into the wild, wintry day. There was not sufficient snow upon the earth to cover the prairie, but, enough to the stinging air with frosty particles. ‘The clouds that skurried across the heavens were dark and grim; thesun had not shown its face for nearly a week, Gomng which time the disagreeable weather had prevailed. After an hour’s absence Old Zeke returned to the cabin, He found his strange guest sitting before the fire, her twin babies now clasped to her breast. Dainty little bits of humanity they were, yet stout and healthy, and the very image of their mother, “Twins?” queried Old Zeke, seating himself near to the fire, and rubbing his horny p briskly, to restore circulation, ‘*Yes—a boy and a girl,’’ replied the young wo- man, kissing them fonc 2 ae f ‘* How old ar’ they ?— en months?” ‘| “‘Wighteen, yesterday. Poor little darlings! Cast }oon he world so early in life, and homeless and §:arly friendless! Would to.God they had died when Arst born; it would have been a mercy to them—to me.” ““Reckon you hain’t got no husband, marm?” per- sisted the hunter, as he filled and lit his pipe. “ Husband? Ah, God help me, I have;—no! not a husband, but a human brute—a demon in the guise of a man, who married me to attain his own devilish aims; then, when tired of me, cast me out upon the world, and set his associate fiends after me, to ac- complish the death of me and my poor innocent babes. “ Husband / no\ God s the mark. He is all that is infernal—devilish. He isa rich man; a mil- lion dollars would not cover the value of his posses- sions. And his family name ranks among the high- est in his State. He married me, secretly, prom: ng to make me the mistress of his house; but he prov to be false, fickle, and brutal. He cursed me; he swore that these children—his children and mine— should never inherit a cent of his estates, which rightfully belong to them; he tried to murder me and them, but failed, after which he set his blood- hounds upon my track. ““My family were poor, common pectin el but between them and the family of my husband always existed a deadly feud that only death can ex- tirpate; and no sooner did my father learn of my marriage into the house of his most bitter enemy, than he drove me from under the roof of my b —bade me go forever out of his sivht, and his curse owithme. Thusit was that I was cast out upon A world by those that were once dear to me.” Old Zeke gave vent to a grunt, expressive of sym- pathy for the young mother, and anger toward her persecutors, “So you sot sail on your own hook, eh?” “Yes. Ihadsome money and many valuable gifts he had given me; and so I was able to flee from my enemies. But, this did not satisfy my husband; he wished me dead, and my children dead, so that he Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. would again be free to m: ; and therefore he set his pe te me, God only knows how I havé tried and struggled to elude them, but all to no pur- to no purpose. They are still in hot pur- suit, and something tells me that they are near, oh! 0° Bat T reck they ain't, though, or else ut I reckon they ain or my eye- sight ar’ deceivin’ mas ead the old man, shutting: to the door, and gazi sharply over the dun, wintry ea. ** Leastwise, ain’t nothin’ in sight—yes har is, by all the hides an’ ha’rs on a mule’s back.” “What!” exclaimed the woman, leaping to her feetinalarm. ‘Is it they—my enemies, already?” “No, marm; et be only a drove o’ deer, what my optics ar’ restin’ on.”’ : “Thank heaven! I was sure you had espied my enemies,” “No, marm. I don’t calkylate you'll see ’em to- day. Very few'dlike to cross Twenty-Mile Stretch wi’ the d blowin’ like forty bufflers, an’ sich a stingin’ temper’ture, too. But I must hev one o’ them deer, fer sartin, fer my larder ar’ gittin’ ray- ther low, an’ deer ain’t so plentiful this*winter as they “ee be. Jes’ ye stay hayr an’ mind the cabin, while I take my Punch-’em-Judy an’ lay fer them ’ar venisons.”’ The game in question, a drove of deer some eight or ten in number, were coming in toward the moun- tain, in a course that would take them north of the cabin. But, their gait was lageing, and as they were still some distance out, old Zeke reasoned that he could waylay them in time to get a shot, Therefore he took down a favorite rifle from the cabin-wall, tightened his belt, and opening the door stepped out into the chill, blustering day. Alas! it was a fatal step; he had not gone ten om from the door when a score of horsemen rode astily out from behind the cabin, where they had been concealed. Some were half-breed Indians, but the larger share were rough, sinister-looking fellows, well mounted and armed, The leader was a large, powerfully- built man of border type, perfect in muscular and pagent development, and evil of countenance, with urning, blood-shot eyes, low, retreating forehead. and sensual mouth, while his straggling hair an beard were wildly tangled and disheveled. He, too was well mounted, clad in buck-skin, and loaded down with a small arsenal of weapons. So swiftly and silently did the cavalcade emerge from their temporary hi -place, that Old Zeke was in entire ignorance of danger, until a terrvi- fied shriek from his strange protegee apprised him. “ Back—back! oh! God, too late /” Wildly, on the breath of the cutting wind these words came to his hearing. He wheeled about to learn their meaning; then the crack of half a dozen rifles rung out, and, pierced with as many bullets, the brave old hunter dropped in his tracks, his life- blood crimsoning the snow. At the same instant a revolver-shot from the ter- rible leader laid the doomed mother a lifeless corpse in the doorway of that lone wilderness cabin. " CHAPTER Il. THE CONTEST. Sunpay in Deadwood—the great gala and business- day of the magic city. he main street running through the gulch bot- tom, stretched out a mile and a half in length before you, closely lined ofeach side with shanties, some of them two-story frames, and bly finished; while the hillsides above are covered with tents an cabins, promiscuously mixed. : Not less set t ane Ra, = concentrated n ong n street, and if in t t surging mass of humanity there a white chirt or pa r collar, it is not visible; if there is a pair of polished boots or shoes they are not to be seen; everything is rough, roaring and ready. ; It is a successful, first-class mining town at its * boiling point,” We will force our way up through the surging crowd, ‘‘ taking notes”? as we proceed, Here is a man mounted upon an inverted dry- gos box, holding a densely- ed crowd of a undred or more about him, w he rattles off in a dashing, easy style, innumerable songs and witty ies to the accompaniment of an old banjo, while an assistant drives a flo trade with the audience, his stock being “‘ beetle all and, as these pestiferous insects are very troublesome in the s, taking the place of the tuneful musketo, the article finds ready sale. Further on an auctioneer is trying in vain to talk into some valuation a worn-out and superannuated pony. A little further, and we hear the strains of a concert of fiddles issuing from a large, barn-like edifice, the whole front of which is open to the street. A glance within shows a bar thirty feet long, from behind which all kinds of liquid decoc- tions are dispensed at fifty cents a drink, the drink- ers tendering in payment tickets previously pur- chased, each of which entitles the holder to “one dance with the gals,”’ a bevy of whom are present, The fiddlers are moun upon a rostrum at the rear end, while a space twenty-feet square immedi- ately in front of them is reserved for dancing pur- poses; and in this reserved spot dainty slippers and stoga boots unite in giving variations to eve attempted in the Terpsichorean line by the “ orches- tra.’ Some of the *‘ gals,” to secure om of mo- tion, doubtless, are blooming either in tights or bloomers, with shorter skirts than even Amelia Bloomer, herself, would have approved of. The next general rendezvous is the gambling-hell —a liquor-bar on one side, and all the rest of the space taken up by faro-banks, monte-tables, and other schemes on the part of those who do not work to plunder those who do. Such dens are ever crowd- ed. A constant stream of oa flowing in at the weigher’s. stand, at. the end of the bar; while the stack of “chips”? which are being handled, and the iles.of buck-skin purses on deposit, at the card-ta- es—immediately around which the intensely-inter- ested votaries are as closely packed as if welded to- gether exebly illustrate the old saying, that ‘‘ the ool and his money are soon pai The Sabbath-day in Deadwood is the golden har- vest of the week for everybody who has anything to sell. The street outside is jammed with humanity, and the groceries, clothing-stores, and all other busi- ness houses are crowded with customers. The miners have ‘“‘ come in to lay in ee, : To a structure on the main street of this wild city of gold, we would conduct the reader who is to fol- low the guidance of our pen through this strange, eventful drama in real life. the name of the place, asis announced by a huge ban- ner-sign hung out over the sidewalk, and as we ap- proach, we can readily guess its vocation, from the shouts of laughter and clinking of glasses, It is a saloon;. reported to be the finest in Deadwood. Inside, is indeed luxurious, compared with the other dens. The floor .is carpeted with matting, the chairs are cushioned richly, and the tables ele- gantly carved and furnished. The walls are literally a panorama of costly mirrors; cluster chandeliers hang from the elaborately frescoed ceiling; the half- breed waiters are in uniform and numbered; the bar has a choice stock of liquors, if a choice stock was a possible thing in Deadwood. - Old Jack Fergueson, from Virginia City, kept, the lace, and a place controlled by this veteran of ‘the ar’? was as orderly as it was possible to keep a “ranch” in a mining town. The habitues of the Tabernacle were, for the most part, men who minded their own business, but, oc- easionally, there was a spree, and no help for it. Extra attractions were not infrequently offered as an inducement for pilgrims to visit this “howtell. On the Sunday of which we write the place was crowded to witness a wrestling match etween a yousy Denver athlete, named Drayton, and a “ pro- essional named St. Elmo. St. Elmo was as but iron-framed fellow of four-and-twenty, with tremendous muscular pow- ers, and apparent fierce temper. His adversary Walt. Drayton, or Wrestlihg Walt, as he was calle by one and all, was barely twenty, if, indeed, he had attained that age, and possessed of a finely molded form, muscular and symmetrical in limb and body. Practice and exercise, in addition to careful atten- tion to food and sleep, had put the young athlete in- to a physical condition which any man in Deadwood might justly have envied. His face was smooth, frank and pleasant—in a word, handsome. His eyes yeee eas like his hair, which was clipped close to the skull. Both men were attired in tights, and mingled free- ly with the vast audience, for the contest was not to begin for an hour; and an hour is an interminable space of time to a thirsty, anxious assemblage. arious were the comments passed upon the wrestlers, as they sauntered separately about, by the rude, uncouth miners, and the men-about-town. One old fellow in particular ——— opinion rather freely upon the merits of the twain, and as no one disputed his declaration he was king cock of the atk, Ta stature he was about of medium hight, as straight as an arrow, and the very embodiment of iron solidity and muscle. He was clad from his stoga boots to the very chin in buck-skin, old and greary, — having seen years of service, and in the belt about his waist was a small arsenal of revolvers and knives. Little of his face, except the straight nose and the black, magnetic eyes, could be seen on account of his tremendous red beard, and the shock of tangled matted hair that grew down low onto his forehead. As if to add to his already comical appearance, a battered, mud-splashed “ p ~ % hat surmounted his head, or rather was tipped to the very furthest limits, on one side, And this individual paraded himself Fg ere ly about, without care for whom he jostled, or whose corns he encroached upon. s “Ker-whoop!” he yelled, stopping in the center of a little crowd near the wrestlers’ platform,“ hayr I am! Right hayr’s the snortin’ pawin’, trottin Pn eral kin’ stallion o° Pertater Gulch. J cum frum Pertater Gulch, pilgrims, 7 do, bet yer dirty shirt on thet! Pm a rattler, 1 am—a ginnywine rattler, an’ thet’s wor they call me Old Rattlesnake. Now fur instance, I illustrate!” And the eccentric miner gave astrange, peculiar laugh, while at the same time he emitted from down in his throat a horrible rattling noise, not unlike the death-rattle of a dying person and the dread —— ing of the most poisonous of reptiles, the patesne. om ‘Thar, now, ain’t thet snakyfied, my pilgrim ° ern? Iallus 7atile when I feel inclined ter eM off sumbody’s ear, or take a hand at den WV: 0p ‘em up, Eliza Jane! Hayr’s ther hoss thet can show his igree, an’ trot a mile in less time ’n Jit takes fer old Jack Fergueson ter ores lass ong ler juice. Walk up, now, any 0 h mantin ter pace a taile wi’ me, in three quarters 0’ & OY hh] < Perhaps ye’? Vetter take a leetle exercise wi’ one o’ them ‘ar, old man!” remarked a bystander, indi- cating Drayton and St. Elmo. ‘’Spect you orter be able ter chaw an ear off’m them; eh?” “Whoa! Eliza Jane. What oye ane paces I trot wi’ them pen Pai my paces r The “Tabernacle ”’ is- | |
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i =~ . Rattle? tater Gulch so hard once, thet ther folks got skeert; thort an orful hail-starm warupon’em. Ag’in, once, over at Bozeman, I drew a great crowd around ther shanty whar I was stoppin’; they jest cum an’ fork- ed over their two bits, as natteral as life, fer they thort *twar a minstrel show, an’ thet I war playin’ on the bones. That's —_ an 4s oe howsum- ever. Once, up at Spearfish I did sumthin’ that beat’s clockwork inter infinity. ** But I ain*t a-goin’ ter tell ye about ‘het, now. I'm jest *goin’ ter ax thet young feller wi’ the piraty mustash ef he wants ter chaw off my ear?” And, true to his word the old fellow waltzed across the floor to where St. Elmo was leaning idly against a card table, toying with a massive gold ring upon his fore-finger. Up close to the wrestler went the miner; then he paused, and, in a half squatting posi- tion, peered up into the other's dark, Spanish face— a face, once seen, rarely to be forgotten. ve Whoop *em up, Eliza Jane!" roared the Rattler, giving his uliar warning, and flapping his great buck-skin-gloved hands up and down; “hayr I am, sar, ther great stallion wi’ a i ther great Thomas K. Cat frum Pertater Gulch, an’ ef ye don’t b’lieve it, just bite a hunk outen my ear; poke yer finger at me, an’ see me hump up my back; step on my toe an* heer me me-e-e-ow! Ferther Lord’s sake, do somethin’ ter releeve me o’ my agony!”’ St. Elmo gazed at his confronter in contempt, not deigning so much as a word, or a smile, at the amus- ing antics of the old fellow. *Cum! cum!” snorted he, b gg ae about, and giving creditable imitations of a horse’s whining, ‘ain't ye goin’ ter tread on my toe, or knock off m hat, or bite my ear, or tickle me in the ribs, or spit in my face, or—or—”’ “ Get out!” said the wrestler, angrily. ‘‘ What do you. come here with your nonsense, for? What do you want with me?” “What do I want, Ba g's What wanteth this me-e-eowing Thomas K. Cat frum ther sacred pre- cincts 0’ Pertater Gulch? Why, sar, I want ter ’ras- tle wi’ ye—I want’er throw your heels over yer head so quick ye won’t have time to wink, That’s Old Rattlesnake’s wants, bet = ile.” e * And what you will be ly to want, for all me!’’ said the wrestler, turn away, as if ted with the proposition, “I did not come here to wrestle with all Deadwood.” ‘Oh! didn’t ye?” exclaimed the man from Potato Gulch, squinting one eye, and: ejecting a stream of tobacco-juice after the athlete. ‘‘Oh! Eliza Jane whar ar’ ye; Hello! hayr’s the uther pes ri see what’s ther size o’ his caliber; bet yer stakes he’s my goose, so watch an’ see me cook ‘im.” At this juncture Wrestling Walt sauntered along, and straight up to him pranced the “ Rattler-frum- Potato Gulch,’’ and slapped him on the shoulder. “T sayee, pilgrim, I’m ther greatest: Thomas K. Cat in all Deadwood!’ was the initiatory declaratio: that greeted the wrestler—‘‘ ther very greatest am —a reg’lar half-an’-half *tween Maltese an’ Cochin Chiny; an’ ef ye doubt my word, just step on my toe and hear me me-e-e-ow!" “Well, old man, who said you wasn’t?” demanded Drayton, laug! , good-humoredly, at the laugha- ble appearance of the other. ‘Iam sure no one dis- putes your word.” etn ig * Wal, no; but ye parseéve I want it distinctly un- derstood who lam. Now I want ter *rastle, side-holt, back-holt, frunt-holt, or enny uther holt—that’s me; an’ ne os ain’t no objections, I'd select you as my Os) )? ” a Pshaw! old man, you’d only get hurt; besides, I never wrestle, “less under wager that pays, and I don’t judge by your hat that you’re overly well- stocked with money.” “Ye don’t? Ye don’t think by ther old Rattle- snake’s hat that he’s full o’ ips? Whoop! ’em, Eliza Jane! Thar’s whar ye make a mistake uv ther caliber o’ yer fellermen. I can fight; I kin trot an hour in two miles ’n’ forty minutes; I kin rattle, squeal, bite, kick, run, swear, chaw terbaccer, drink tarantler-ju’ce, an’ me-e-e-ow-ow-ow-w! an’ I kin show ther biggest nugget in this ere ranch!’ and to back his assertion, the eccentric individual from Po- tato Gulch held up to the gaze of all a nugget of pure, shining gold, about the size of a man’s fist. It was a wonderful sight, and, with cries of aston- ishment, a crowd instantly collected around him. **' That ‘ar*!” Me he eer 3 Ate = ww f “ ar’ cs) a specimen. ms. e > @& sarcum- pr mba ter what's lett whar this cum from, Oh! Eliza; wilt thou say I ain’t got anny chips, now? Thet n t weighs twenty ounces, gentlemen, an’ ef ye don’t b'Veve et, why just step on this Maltese kitten’s tail, an’ hear ’im me-e-e-ow, me-e-e-ow !”” ‘‘T say, old man, where did you get that nugget?” The speaker was a pot eee military-looking ‘personage, with bushy side-whiskers and sinister cast of countenance, who had been attracted to the spot by the surprised cries of the others. “What's thet ter you?” demanded Old Rattle- snake, sharply. ‘ Wouldn't you like ter know, so’s you could go an’ pick up a few Le like it? Whoop emup, Liza! *Tain’t every fool's 's born fer luck. say, you wrestlin’ cuss, d’ye wanter scratch my ac I ff to break k, if you'll put ‘Yes; I'll agree to break yer nec oO uu up that nugget for stakes,” replied Wrestling Wilt, with g laug “Done. Ef you win, ther hunk is yours. Ef I win, I’m goin’ ter bite off yer nose, an’ then hev ther like a kitten. Ar’ thet uar’?”” aa Perfectly! Cum along onto the stage,” replied the young wrestler, leadin; pression upon his genial privelege o’ me-e-e-Owin the way, a confident ex- ace. He anticipated an Buffalo Ben. easy victory over this eccentric individual from Po- tato Gulch. And the crowd cheered leudly as the two took their places upon the stand, or the contest. Old Rattlesnake had laid aside his belt and wea- ns, but still wore his greasy buck-skin suit, while restling Walt was attired in his tights, making the contrast somewhat startling. “Pil bet the pl cpm will get his neck broke!”’ cried the military chap, once before referred to, as he took out a roll of bills from the pocket of his vel- vet vest. “T’m agreeable!”’ nded a voice, in his rear, and a youth—for he was little ante forward, ey y to cover the officer's wager. “ What ‘ll you e , “Hello!” the major stared. He had not expected to be taken up at his offer. ‘* Who are you, young man?” “That does not matter. Who or what I am does ou wish to bet that the old roke, I’m your huckleberry, not matter, to you. If galoot will get his neck to any tune in long meter.”’ ‘* Well! well!” drawled the officer, s ws bx accoster, sharply. ‘ You've no lack of cheek, that’s positive! So you want to bet, do you? Well, plank rae chi ere, give ‘em to this other wrestler to old—a hundred dollars, if you please.” “Git out!’’ cried the young man, contemptuously. “*T wouldn’t trust my ducats in that galoot’s paws. *Sides, I wouldn’t bet short ov a thousand.” “Phew!” The major was truly amazed. ‘ You haven’t got a thousand cents, Pll wager!” Out came the youth’s right hand from the pocket of his buffalo-skin trowsers, and in it he clutched a roll of greenbacks, even larger than the officer's. “ There’s my ducats, pilgrim; so if you've a notion o’ riskin’ a thousand, just lay it-into the hands of old Jack Fergueson, here,’’ and he nodded to the grim, rough proprietor of the “ Tabernacle,’ who stood h by, and had heard the proposal, Accordingly the required sum was deposited with the veteran, and then a si was given for the halo to begin, for Wrestling Walt had been waiting for the consummation of the bet. The youth who had thus put up his mone i the major’s, was in many res remarkable, even among the more remarkable tide of civilization in this outlandish Black Hills metropolis. And this was largely owing to his attire, which would have attracted attention, anywhere. The coat and breeches, met.at the knees uyeripaed leggings, were made of buffalo-skin, with f side out; the vest was of red velvet; the moccasins upon his feet were skillfully wrought in fantastic de- signs with Indian bead-work; the broad-brim slouch hat upon his head was'stuck full of scarlet feathers. In fact this youth was really handsome, the fea- tures pane bold and regular, thé eyes black and piercing, the mouth expressively pleasant, yet withal rm and resolute set, and the hair golden, and hang- ing in long curls over his shoulders. fe was not generally known in Deadwood: yet a few inquiring ones had ferreted out the fact that he was a wonderful pistol-shot, ca ay Sacre up in the far north-west, somwhere near the British and that his name was Buffalo Ben. The wrestling now began. ‘ The contestants clinched, side-hold, with arms about each other's waist, and then came the exhibi- tion of skill in the art of wrestling, if such manly sport can justly be classified among he arts. Back and forward weaved the two wrestlers, each using all the feints and attempts, to trip, within their power. And it dawned u the minds of the spec- tators, that Old Rattl e Was no easy man to handle, for, though Wrestling Walt put forth his i efforts, he could not get his adversary off his ect, : “ Whoop ‘em up, ’Liza Jane!" the eccentric genius from Potato Gulch would roar, between breaths. ““Hayr’s the old Thomas K. Cat, yit, an’ ye ken’t throw him—”’ Alas! the words were hardly spoken, when the young wrestler discovered an cngpenten point, and quickly seizing the opportunity, he raised the miner bodily in his muscular arms, and pitched him head- long from the stage, out among the audience. He went down with a thud, and lay fora momentlike one dead; but the next instant he regained his feet, and shook himself like some t mastiff. “Tm satisfied!’ he grunted, casting a around him; ‘I ain’t no hog that don't he’s got enough—no sir-ee!”’ glance ow when CHAPTER III. OLD ENEMIES FACE TO FACE, “THERE; who won the bet?” demanded Buffalo Ben, turning to Fergueson, simultaneously with the major. ‘I bet that the old galoot would not git his nec broke, and neither he did, so the chips are ne. “The devil they are!’’ cried the or, endeavor- ing to elbow his adversary to one side. ‘‘ I won fairly; the cuss got floored, and that right handsomely, too, and the stakes are mine.” “T reckon they ain’t!” retorted the young man, grimly, apparently not in the least awed by the other's important bluster. “I won ’em, an’ win ’em’s keep ’em’s, ‘round this ranch, ef I know myself,” **Ourse you, bef Hag contradict me?’ roared the thrage. ‘Get out of my path, wh: wares will you for onolly apked Buffalo Ben, foldin and gazi towering confronter in expressed contempt, * What will you oO 99 “Bravo! hurra for the boyee!"’ roared Old Rattle- 3 snake, admiring the youth’s pose. ‘‘ Whatlb ye do, ilgrim—chaw off sect ati: Cnuibamtats and ear him me-e-eow?”’ “This is what I'll dol’’ cried the angered officer, aiming a heavy blow at the youth’s breast. ‘“*Take that, you contemptible cur, and let it teavh you a. lesson not to interfere in others’ business.” But the clinched fist only cut the air, for Buffalo Ben leaped lightly to one side, and, then, with the quickness of a cat, he administered a slap scross the major’s mouth with the flat of his hand, that re- sounded loudly throughout the room, “ Hurra! me-e-eow |” shouted the man from Potato Gulch, ——— in wildest delight. ‘Oh! Eliza’ give him anuther, pilgrim—jest one more, fer yer uncle.” “J think that will answer all purposes,’’ replied Buffaio Ben, still on his : And his words seemed true. A moment the major oad tly at the young scout, then he walked away, muttering inaudible threats. ‘**Whoop-la! whoop ‘em up, "Liza Jane!’’ sung the man from Potato Gulch; “‘ One game rooster licked, by thunder! Cock-a-doodle-doo-0-0-0-0!” case 0’ non-compismentus for ye. PO brave sojer persuaded ter abandon pugilism—one peg arenes guvynormentalist etarnally glori- “You slapped the wrong man across the speakin’- trumpet, then, me lad!"’ said Old Jack Fergueson, as he placed the stakes in the youth’s hands. “He _ seem vanquished, now, but he’ll give you a dig in the ribs, yit, mark my word.” So? ell, TL shall be on m guard,” was the care- less reply. ‘* Who is the swell, anyhow?” * a “That man is Major Fawdon. He stands high in favor in the army, and has influence that ain’t to be sneezed at. “Waal, that don’t scare this fellow, not cne whit. "Long’s he keeps on his side o’ the trail, all right; when he gits onter my side, I'll h’ist him off, bet yer snipe I ain’t no rag fer army officers ter wipe their eet on, “Bully for you, boyee!”’ and admiration and en- pivesiestes joy begs “vs fee the soreean? a 'y for you. glory in your § 0} don’t go bout wi’ yer optics he yap mind, or you'll come up missing!’ and then he wheeled and ambled back to his bar, to dispense decoctions to the thirsty throng, leaving B o Ben standing staring thoughtfully at the floor. The wrestling match between Drayton and St. Elmo was now on the tapis, and the space in front of the platform was crowded full of excited humanity, who were eager to witness the sport. The two men, standing together, were wonde develo in muscular physical strength, their forms were set off to advantage in the flesh- tights, exhibiting in prominence the masterly curves and contours, P ‘“What prognosticating pilgrim sez he wants ter bet twenty milyun dollars n’ this yere nuggit. o’ ariferous stuff, that the feller w’at_cafluxnunxed > sad win hey maret va gy orig a art son-of-a-gurr wants ter Fale jn milyun ag’in’ a nuggit 0° gold! Whar’s the inderv dual what. wants to bet?” howled the man Potato Gulch, dancing around promiscuously, and equencaiy endeavoring to.make himself a source of annoyance to everybody. ‘‘Hayr Iam, ther great Thomas K. Cat o’ ther Angel-Saxon breed—ther t roarin’, snortin’ stallion wi’ a p . And want ter bet sum ornery galoot jest one twenty- ounce pole nuggit ag’in’ twenty milyun dollars, thet Wrastler Walt ’s goin’ ter wag A thet a, tashed skunk like Lavy erru essuvyus. Oh! the ongainly e war afeard ter tackle ° ornery buzzard! a own caliber, war he? Hope ter thunder he'll git his ijees_jounced ’way inter the middle o° next year, like I did! Oh! bruthern, I know—I’ve bin thar, bet yer false teeth; I’ve seen ther starry firmament—saw et but a few minutes ago, an’—” ° “See here, are you go’ to shut up, and make less noise?” demanded old Jack Fergueson, coming from behind the bar witha loaded horse pistel in each hand. “I don’t want ter make an obi in ther columns o’ ther Pioneer, but shall have to, ef ye don’t put a stopper inter thet bread-trap 0” yours.” **Oh! Eliza!’ groaned he from Potato Gulch, in an agony of spirit, as he squirted a stream of a juice reflectively at a fly which had alighted upon @ neighboring card-table—“ has et cum this, thet a poor cuss ar’ forbidden freedom o’ his s,eaking facilities?” “Ye can talk ter a certain extent,’ retorted Fer- gueson, “‘but we positively do refuse to have too much gab!” “ Amem!” said the Rattlesnake, solemnly, and he turned his attention to the wrestlers, apparently re- signed to his lot. gout the outers Bar Tine ny pd be for the ampionship 0; e e stakes a hundred a side, and a handsome belt, pec eee. and its clasp adorned with two diamond stars. It was a magnificent affair, and well worth a struggle to obtain. . The start was side-hold, St. Elmo having the ference of the right side. Back and forward stepped in their tremendous hug, feinting, tr parrying, but neither gaining a point. Once Wrest- D, t came near going upon his knees, but he quickly saved himself, and received a storm of ap- — from the intensely interested assemblage. t was doubtful how the tide was going to turn. St. Elmo was not nearly so cool as adversary. He was more fierce of temper, and had less patience. It fretted him not to gain; it enraged him to lose. Then, too, his eyes were sometimes riveted u the spectators, as if to learn whom their sym
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| 4 was with, for he was jealous lest it should be center- ed upon his contestant. In vain did éach of the wrestlers practice upon the other all the tricks known to them; ‘twas no use, however, for at the end of an hour both were stand- ing as when they commenced. “Come! come!” roared the man from Potato Gulch, at last, unable longer to stand the pressure, “why don’t ye adjourn ter buzness. Git yer back up an’ me-e-ow like a Thomas cat; get mad, an’ pull each other’s ha’r!" “Shall we throw up the sponge?” demanded vet- eran Jack Fergueson, from behind the bar. ‘“ Thar’s no use 0’ yer ‘ras’lin’ forever.” “No sponge for me!” cried Wrestling Walt, his eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘‘One of us has ‘ot to lay down here, afore the show is over, ‘less he Saint, here, wants to cave.” “Have I caved, yet?’ was the other wrestler’s an- swer, ina fierce tone. “ Go ahead /” And the struggle recommenced. Backward, forward and sidewise they went, watch- ing each oe —_ as narrowly as a i mee @ mouse; bracing, , and tripping; 4 =: inwardly curuiiy hie taee, Drayton calm and studious, But it could not last forever. Suddenly Wrestling Walt caught his man ata disadvantage and in a sec- one he bore him heavily to the floor, mid thundering shouts of applause. “Hurra! hurra!” shrieked the eecentric individual from Potato Gulch, capering about and acting more like a lunatic than anything else, ‘‘ cock-a-doodle- d0o-0-0-00! me-e-eow! Whoop ’em up, ‘Liza Jane. Warn’t ‘het done purty? Warn’t that the essence o’ all ’t’s beautiful? Oh! Eliza, my blushing primrose, w'ar art thou, now?’ Wrestling Walt allowed his adversary to rise; then he extended his hand. “Shake, pardner; you needn’t git mad, for you had the same chance as [!”’ ““T care not for Pen’ friendship,” replied the van- quished athlete, bitterly, as he pulled on his velvet coat preparatory to leaving. ‘* You won, and may- be it’s all right, and, again, maybe it ain’t; keep your hand; I don't want it.” * All correct, sir; you needn’t take it. I bear you no ill-will, and hope it is the same with you. When- ever you want another friendly tussle, hunt me up.” St. Elmo nodded his head, and wended his way out of the ‘“*Tabernacle.”’ **Long tunes in short-meter!”’ exclaimed Old Rat- tlesuake, following him with his era | eee “That galoot’s got a thistle in his crop, yer boots. kon ow him, or else I’m mistaken,” The crowd now ae A dispersed, after paying their respects at the bar, for if there was any excite- ment elsewhere they meant to find it. Among them went the gentleman from Potato Gulch, his tongue ever moving faster than his stoga-booted feet. That evening the young scout, Buffalo Ben, while sitting in the Tabernacle, and — watching the comers and goers, received a start, upon the en- ‘trance of aman into the saloon. Not that there was — remarkable in the a nce of the indi- ual, but because he evidently pe an him. A short, heavy-set person, dressed in citizen's cloth- ing, was all, yet the youth’s eyes lit up with fire as he beheld him. The face, though coarse and bloated, was decided- womanish, and the hair flo down upon the shoulders was almost too fine and abundant to adorn one of the male sex. Yet as such was the person dressed, and not one out of ten would have suspect- ed the gender in this new-comer that walked up to the bar and called for drink. “*Ha!’’ was Buffalo Ben's involuntary exclamation, as his hand sought his belt. “So this is my game in a new harness. I wonder if any one recogn Silver Sal, of ‘‘Slop-Bucket"’ notoriety in that disguise! Few, it’s likely; but I am not so easily foo Now is my chance, and she shall not elude me!” After pouring down a glass of the stuff they call brandy, in Deadwood, the stranger gave a careless glance about the saloon; then turned and left as quickly as he had come. But not unwatched. Like a sleuth-hound Buffalo Ben glided after him, and the two stepped into the black, moonless night —moonless, because the was overcast with omi- nous clouds that had collected during the after- noon. Instead of keeping up through the main street, Silver Sal made a cut direct for the steep hillside, where myriads of twinkling stars through the night's somber vail located many a miner's tent or shanty. Like a shadow did Buffalo Ben keep in pursuit, his a inaudible to his hurrying enemy. He gained tly, until at last he was able to lay his left hand upon the other's shoulder. “Halt! move at your peril!’ was followed by the mgnicent click! click! of a revolver. e disguised songstress wheeled about with a curse. Her fooebend came in contact with the re- volver’s muzzle as she did so. “Steady, now!’ warned the youth’s voice, the ring in it betraying sternness and resolve. ‘ You've gone far enough at present, Silver Sal; the Bossest of Boss Gals makes a presentable specimen 0’ man- hood, but ain’t supposed to be able to cope with men, for all. Do you know me, woman?” “7’m no woman!’ was the retort, in a ., growling voice, meant as an imitation of a man’s. ‘I reckon you’re barking up the wrong tree, “ Oh, no!” Buffalo Ben’s voice was full of confi- dence. “I’ve been ont he trail of game too long for that. You're what they call Silver Sal, here in Deadwood. Up in Idaho you were dubbed Fatty Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. Greene; over in the British possessions you were happy in the name of Mrs. ly Falkland!”’ gem curse; then a motion as if to break away an run. “Oh, no!” said the youth, again pressing harder with the revolver, “‘don’t try to run, or I'll salt you, sure’s I’m Ben Jerome. You know I’m no slouch with a pistol. Now, then, that after the — of over a year, we have met, you must tell me where to find my sister Belle!’ **In the ve, curse her,’’ was the sullen reply. “ Would to you were there, too.”’ ““No. doubt you would like tosee me there, but I ain’t on the death list, at present. You've got to tell me where she is, so you mp well do it first as last, for I’m going to hold you till you do.” g — dead, I tell you! How many times must I repeat it?” *You need not repeat it at all, for I know itisa black lie. You know me, Silver Sal; gy od Ima retty hard customer, when I’m r‘iled. you bet- er unburden yourself, right off, before I get upon my ear. I wouldn’t much hesitate to blow the roof off your head, you’ve given me so much trouble.” **T'll unburden myself of nothing. I’m well aware I kidnap the girl; I don’t deny it. I thought I could make her dance and kick money into my pock- et, but I mistook her. She didn't have any gump- tion about her, and when I’d mauled her about a week or so, she took sick and died, an’ you can bet I was glad of it. She hadn't no talent fer theat- ricals, an’ the stage.” “No, probably not, of the kind you bring inter use,” was the sarcastic reply. ‘ But Istill disbelieve ou; you have her concealed somewhere. Come! his parley is simply useless. Where is she?" ns in the graveyard, at Cheyenne.” “You lie!’ “No; as God is my judge, I am telling the truth!” declared the woman. Apparently she was in deep earnestness. “ Again I swear you lie!"’ cried Buffalo Ben, fierce- ly, Penn blazing like lurid coals of fire. “I know you, of old.” bs what if I do lie? What if Belle Jerome is alive?’’ demanded the woman, a sneer perceptible in her speech. ‘ What are you to do about it?” “T’m going to make you or—”’ “Or, what?” Kill yu. and cut your heart out.” “Bah! I don’t fear ha Kill ef you choose; one may as well die at one time as another.” “Very well. By killing you, if Belle is alive I shall rid her of her greatest enemy. I shall count three; if you don’t speak, (Aree meansdeath. One/” A brief pause, then the cool tones of the youth spoke the ominous— “ Two * be He would have counted three, but at this juncture = was suddenly seized from behind, and thrown to e ee th a of affright Silver Sal bounded away, disappeared in the black gloom of the night! “ CHAPTER IV. MASKED MAUDE—DEADWOOD DICK. SEARCHING among the heterogeneous po tion of the Black Hills mining towns, you are liable to find almost every known phase of character; you need not marvel at any personal or characteristic phenomenon, that sudde presents itself. In the country of gold you can find any one you want, from a desperado to a saint; from a to a millionaire: from an organ-grinder to a fortune-tel- ler—and it is of one of this latter class that we are about to write. ‘‘ Masked Maude” they called her, because her face was ever hidden behind a_ black mask; and what any one knew of her was of little co uence, She had come to Deadwood, one — on the stage, and launched out into business instanter, hav- ing bought and paid for a fifteen-by-thirty shanty. almost under the shadow of the Metropolitan, an stuck out her shingle— “MaupEe Van Fortune-Teller, ete.” What the “etc.” was calculated to imply, is hard to state; but it was there, to be read and re-read by Deadwood’s wondering inhabitants. Further information was gratuitously added, that **Madam Van Buskirk would only receive visitors at certain times of the day and week, Tuesdays and Fridays being the period for “‘ reception.” On the Friday previous to the Sunday of which we have just been writing, the madam had a customer. He came down the culch from one of the hotels, and paused in front of the door of the fortune-teller’s shanty. Glancing Ma at the ungainly sign, a sarcas- tic smile wreathed his lips. He was a large, heavy-set man of perhaps forty- five, or maybe more, with a full sweeping beard, silvered with many a gray thread; an intellectual forehead, and eyes piercing black in their intensity. He was dressed in citizen’s clothing, of elegant fit and texture; his whole Bo pers appearance spoke of wealth and h standing in the world. He walked with a cane, but evidently not because it was a necessity. “So! this must be the place that I seek,” he ob- served, glancing a second time at the si “IT won- der if her ladyship is in, and ready for business?” He gave a heavy rap on the door, and then waited. At first there was no sound of stir inside; but, pres- ently, some one approached the door, undid the fastenings, and Mas Maude stood upon the thresh- old, a small revolver in her shapely white hand. She was so masked that no part of her face could be seen; her hair long and of auburn hue fell over her shoulders in great profusion. In stature she her visitor keenly was a trifle above the medium of women, but in her magnificent costume of purple silk, she looked xt yt raised his hat, politely, as he beheld es r > , as he e the woman; bowed, and then said: “ Ahem! do I see the woman they call Masked Maude—the fortune-teller?” “You do,’ was the reply, in a sweetly pleasant you come in?’ “Well, yes’—with a little laugh. “I have a trifling amount of business to transact with you, = I prefer it should be done within your shanty, than out.” “Certainly; walk in,” and the graceful fortune- teller led the way into the shanty, which served her both as office and dwelling. It was but a single room, and furnished with the rude simplicity of a miner’s taste—a table, a few —— cot-bed in one corner, a second-hand stove, a be of rifles and other weapons hung against the wall. ‘* Be seated, please,’’ said Masked Maude, motion- ing her visitor to a chair, “‘and state your errand at as for time is worth gold to me. Your name And emit, be Lr and ink, she waited to enter it into a large that lay upon the table. “What difference does it make what my name is?’’ demanded the man, uneasily, while he stroked his beard with a nervous hand. ‘‘That need not be mentioned in our business transaction.” ‘* However that may be, I must have your name,’* was the firm reply. “I deal with no one whose nameI do not know. Not for particular use, you know, but as a guarantee of good faith.”’ “Well, then, it is Aaron Wadsworth.” “Aaron Wadsworth,” repeated the fortune-teller, writing in her great book. ‘‘ Aaron Wadsworth. Where from?” “The East.” “Of course; an what would you with me? I ry nee “On the contrary, I do not. I do not believe in any such fol-de-rol. Why IT came here, I can easily explain. Up at the hotel I was told that you were literally a world’s directory; that it required only the asking, and you could tell a person the where- abouts of any other person. It is because of this that I have come to you. I want you to tell me the present whereabouts of Deadw Dick.” The woman started. do you wish to know?” she asked, eying h the holes of her mask. byes day was trying to evade a direct answer to e on, “Because I do. You can tell me where I can go to find him.”’ “Oh, no!” with a strange laugh. “If I knew where Deadwood Dick is, I could earn a thousand dollars reward, Or more, You're on the wrong tack, pilgrim.” ” “Bah! you are fooling me! “In your imagination, yes. Deadwood Dick isa person whose market value increases with age— whose habitual watchfulnmess and caution grow stronger each day that passes. If you would find him, you will have to explore the countless fast- nesses of the Black Hills.” “Ts that so?’ The stranger seemed surprised. bap had no idea but what you could put me on his trail.’ He arose and donned his hat. “Ts that all—the extent of your business with me?”* Maude queried, rising also. ‘‘ If you have a mien ple I might by some lucky chance see the Prince of the , or some of his d, even before you do.” Wadsworth reflected a moment. “Yes,” he said, finally; “if you see this young robber, tell him he will find it his advantage to call upon J. Aaron Wadsworth, Room 4, Centennial Hotel. I will be there for one week.” ‘All right.” Masked Maude jotted down the ad-. dress in her book. ‘I will endeavor to get him the word, for which, including present consultation fee, T shall charge you fifty do! or “What /” Aaron Wadsworth was amazed. ‘Fifty dollars, ma‘am? Why, that is extravagant—enor- mous!’ “It is my price, all the same,” was the matter-of- fact rejoinder. ‘ You can pay it, and then take your departure.” But I won't!’’ the gentleman from the East de- ps stoutly. “Iam not to be humbugged by one e you.” “Then you may as well be seated,” replied Mande ae *“ You cannot leave this shanty till you shell out.’ Wadsworth walked defiantly to the door, and turned the knob. The door was locked. “Oh! you needn’t think to escape,’’ observed the masked woman, drumming on the table with the jeweled fingers of her left hand, while in her right she clutched a revolver, alre cocked. ‘Even should you succeed in getting t door open, I'l salivate you with this,’’—indicating the revolver, “What! you wouldn’t murder me?” gasped Wads- worth. “Wouldn't 1? Well, Lain’t so sure about that. I reckon you will have to shell out the required fifty, or shed cold lead.” The stranger uttered a curse, and taking a roll of bills from his vest pocket, he counted out five tens. * Thanks,” the fortune-teller said, coolly raking in the stamps, with a chuckle. “T judged by your looks that you could stand a fee.’ “Humph!" Wadsworth swelled up with import- ance. ‘ Were your a half-million instead of fifty dollars, I could stand them and not wince Now, release me,” one might know that. Now, ant your fortune told,
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Buffalo Ben. * All you have to do is turn the knob and _ walk ” assured Maude, pointing to the door. “Go!” ‘But it is locked.” “Try it and see.” Which he did, and found that it opened without resistance. Stepping outside he closed the door be- hind him, and made way back toward his hotel. When Buffalo Ben came to realize that he was a prisoner, he uttered something suspicio like a curse. To be ed in plans that it taken months to mature, was vexatious in the greatest de- ree. . His captors were masked, and twelve or fifteen in number, and he rightly came to the conclusion that they were road-agents. — hat was their object in taking him a prisoner he could net imagine. Surely, it could not be for plun- der, as he not exhibited much money while in Deadwood, except when he had bet with the major. “What does this mean?” he demanded, addressing one who appeared to bein command. ‘‘ Why have you taken me captive; and who are you?” “We're Deadwood Dick’s Night-Hawks,” replied Lieutenant Cambre, “and we snatched you just for a little fun while we’re waitin’ for the captain.” “Indeed? Well, su pose you let me go in pursuit of that female frien , suggested Ben, ‘that is, if you've had enough fun.” “Not yet—not till the captain comes. He may want tosee you.” ““Why should he? He does not know me.” “Dont he? There is where you mistake. I’ve heard him speak of Buffalo Ben—and I reckon you are he.” “Tam. But what did your captain say concerning me?” “He always spoke of you as a fearless sort of a cuss. Said there ain’t only one as can equal you with the revolver.” “And who is that?” “Himself. Reckon the captain can sock lead about as true as the next one.” “So I heard.’’ Ben never boasted of his own suc- cessful exploits, though he has won many a wager with a revolver. ‘‘ Whereis your captain, now?” ** Over to the ‘ Met,’ I reckon, or some’eres in that direction, tryin’ toscare up danger, That chap can’t live without he’s all the time gettin’ into danger.” eve what the 7 “You're just talkin’, he hes—purty as ary rosebud that ever blossomed. She lives in the sixth toll-gate *twixt here an’ Bozeman, Dick don’t go there much; she mostly comes to see him,” At this juncture footsteps were heard rapidly ap- proaching, and ina moment more the young road- agent chief came bounding into camp. t was Deadwood Dick, the same as we have seen him in days — by—Dick in his weird suit of black, with his black mask, gloves and hat;—the dashing, handsome, youthful prince of the road. His eagle eyes pierced the gloom, and took in the scene at a glance. ‘*Whom have you here, lieutenant?’ he asked, quickly, nodding toward the captive scout. ‘“ Ha! yes, I see—it’s Buffalo Ben, eh? Howcame you to detain him, Cambre?”’ “Just for to pass away time, captain. Shall we release him, now?” “No; we have no time to spare, for Old Roxly «nd his Regulators are after me. Fetch along your pris- oner, and let us scoot, lively, for the devils are out strong.” So saying, Deadwood Dick s rung on ahead into the darkness. The bonds around Ben's feet were cut, and then he was forced to accompany the road- agents, as they followed their leader. All did not go in a —e* They divided into twos and threes, and — off in various directions, all meeting half an hour later in a lonely spot on White- wood creek, a mile above town. ' It was where the golden stream debouched from a black, narrow ravine, into which a man could barely force a passage, between the jagged rocks. Above towe migny tree-fringed mountain crags; below the stream ed and gurgled like the waters of a witches’ caldron, One by one the ——_ assembled at_ this point, some panting and breathless from a long, round-about jaunt. Deadwood Dick was the last one to arrive, and a murmur of relief ran through the crowd when he came among them. “T was fearful that ill befallen you!” said Car- los Cambre. “Ha! what is the matter? Are you wounded?” “Only a scratch—the loss of blood made mea trifle dizzy!” replied the chief, reeling even as he spoke. But he threw off the faintness with a master effort. ‘‘ We're in for a scrimmage, boys. Old Alex Roxly and his Regulators are coming down on us, hot and heavy.” ‘* Which way?” “From all directions. They're scattered all through the town. A dozen or more of ’em dogged me till a few moments ago, when I threw them from the trail. But they'll soon nose us out.” ** God forbid, in such a place as this. Here we are completely cornered.” \ “Ay! a ou are—and there come the devils now!” rep Deadwood Dick, as there was a glare of light from off in the darkness, and a storm of bul- lets rattled harmlessly over their heads. CHAPTER V. MAJOR FAWDON’S CLAIMANT. In an upper parlor of the Centennial Hotel, J. Aaron Wadsworth was taking his ease, ensconced in a large cushioned rocker, his slippered feet elevated to a dangerous le on a neighboring bookcase. His apartment was furnished .—" elaborate style for Deadwood, everything being new and of recent manufacture. Upon a stand at his elbow were wine and cigars; the light was turned low, for it was evening, and a little burned in the grate. This man, whose money he counted by tens of thousands, was not in a very good humor, for his brows were knitted in a scowl, his hands were clench- ed, and his se were gleaming. 2 or did a Bp tee oo a rawny man, of brutal as y- iy - zled-looking wretch, with tremendous beard and deeply-scarred face—one who looked capable of any crime. His dress was buck-skin, throughout, and he was armed to the teeth. Wadsworth motioned him to a seat, without rising himself. **So you have come, have you?” he growled, puff- ing harder at his cigar. ‘I think it’s time. I’ve n in Deadwood ten days, waiting for you. You must think a man’s patience will last forever.” ““Hain’t tho’t much about et,” replied the giant, seating himself on the opposite side of the little table, and helping himself to wine and cigars without invi- tation. ‘‘Got here as soon as I could after gettin’ yer letter sayin’ as you’s comin’ West. Didn't hurry much, neither!” “IT should say not,” with an increased scowl. ‘You re taking matters altogether too easy.” * And why shouldn't I? Hain’t bound ter run an’ obey every wiggle of your thumb. I used ter be your nigger, but times hev changed since sixteen ‘0. ” years ago. Wadsworth chewed the end of his cigar reflectively. **T did play it rather shabby on you, that’s a fact,” he said, watching the wreaths of smoke curl upward. “But, then, five thousand dollars was a good bit to pay out, and you wouldn’t take less.”’ “No; nary a durned cent less. You ‘greed ter pay me the amount ef I'd do the job fer you, an’ I went ter the ’spense, on my own hook, ter git my men, an’ hunt the trail. An’ after I salted away the biggest share o’ the game, you backed out, an’ re- fused to stick ter your bargain.” Wadsworth took the cigar from between ade t, a startled exp on and stared hard at the upon his features, “I must misunderstand your meaning, Burk,” he said; “‘you say, ‘after I salted away the biggest share 0’ the game.’ What did you mean by that?” Bill Burk laughed, in a hoarse, mocking fashion. “ Reckon I meant what I sed,’ was his reply. ‘‘I warn’t sure any 0’ the time but what you'd play the shenannigan on me; so J killed the , an’ reserv- ed the squallin’ brats fer noe use |” The man of money leaped to his feet, a horrible oath escaping his lips. “You tell me this, you aceursed devil?” he cried, his face all aflame with rage. ‘‘ You tell me that you did not destroy her babes, as you promised—that they are yet living?” pxacily! recisely! positively that!’ responded Burk, with a leer. adsworth made no hostile demonstration as he received the, to him, startling intelligence. He drop- mage, his ast civeied avensingty tipta ths"giint, r : vel ly upon t hard, stern lines contracting his Ercheet “T believe you lie!’? he said, at last, his tone cold and angry. “‘ Had you this hold upon me, you would — been pretty apt to have make yourself manifest ong ago.” “Oh! no!” the ruffian laughed, confidently. “I took my time, as I always do. Nothin’ ever hurries me. ad I wanted to, werry bad, I could ’a’ made you humped, ‘thout usin’ the brats. Blackmail ’d a’ been my weepin in that case; but then I warn’t 0’ a werry revengeful dispersition, so I waited an’ bided my time, well knowin’ yer conshence ’d bring you out here, afore you died. Ye couldn’t rest ten ear more wi’out knowin’ fer sure w'at war my feel- *‘s toward you, now could ye?” “Tt was not so much that that brought me west- ward,” replied Wadsworth. I wan change, ex- citement; so I came here. I remembered your ad- dress to be“Helena, at your last wri to me; I sent for you to meet me, here, but did not that you would bring me such news.” “Oh, I presume not,’ Bill Burk replied, with a awn, “You s’posed you hed no heirs ter that mil- on 0’ yourn—tho’t you’d played a trump keerd an’ won; but = got tuk back a peg in thet calkylation. Thar’ll be heirs enough in the market.” ~ —- en ne ae one aide his small eyes gleaming, . “Could you trust me again, and at the same time could I trust you?” ‘Waal, boss, that depends. S’posin’ ye give a fel- ler a geeograftickal ideer of what ye’re drivin’ at, an’ then I'll put yer question ter probate, as the judges sa aay % Exactly. Let us understand each other,” assent- ed Wadsworth. ‘‘In case I was to pay you the five thousand dollars, how then?”’ ‘Waal, I'd hev ter see the chips, first, an’ then de- cide, afterwards. The more oats ye feed a hoss the livelier he ar’!"’ “ That is as much to say, that as long as I buy you with gold, yvu are mine. “ Thet’s about ther size of et.’ “Tl buy you to a certain extent, but no further,” he said, decidedly, as he took a small valise from be- neath the table, and unlocked it. Inside were sever- al rolls of something well wrapped in silk oil-cloth, one of which he extracted and undid. Once the out- side covering was removed, a roll of greenbacks was revealed, most tempting to the eyesight. Bill Burk gave vent to a surprised vision was greeted with this unexpec aE - unt, as his display. o’ chips, ain’t ye?’ he observ: d, “ You're lighting a second cigar, ‘‘ Reckon some bank’s bin rob hey?” “Not that I know of; why?” “* Because you’re so fiush‘o’ stamps.”’ No reply was made to this, but the man counted out a number of bills from the package, and shoved (oD aere ae Aye torial 6 lars,” he said gruffly. ‘There are five thousand do m A “Now, can I rely on you to finish the job you com- menced, sixteen years ago—the job which must be finished at all hazards?” ‘*Reckon et would be well fer you to put another thousand along with this, ter make all sure,”’ grinned Burk, triumphantly. Another thousand was accordingly counted out, and shoved across the table. “There! does that appease your appetite?” de- manded Wadsworth. “To a T!” announced the other, rising. ‘I'll hunt up the game, by an’ by. As fer ther present, I'm oin’ ter git onter a glorious drunk, over my ortune. -day ter ye, Mr. Wadsworth!” And in another moment the giant had quit the room, leaving the scheming man of money to his re- flections. After Bill Burk’s departure, Wadsworth sat for a long time with his face buried in his hands, nor did he arouse until he felt the presence of some living thing near him. He then looked up to a find a man standing before him, with folded arms—one whom he did not remem- ber ever having seen—clad in a hunter’s costume, and armed with rifle and belt weapons. A brawny, handsome fellow he was, of three-and-thirty sum- mers, the very picture of health and strength. “Who are you?” demanded Wadsworth, scowling as only he could scowl. ‘‘ What brings you here, where you are not wanted?” “*T don’t know that it makes any difference to you, apse 3" responded the hunter, in a slow, drawl- tone. “Ireckon this are a free country, an’ a fellercan go whar he leases, providin’ he’s got enuff elbow-grease to back him. S’pose you'd like ter have me trot out o’ here, but I'll tarry a few seconds, while I tell you somethin’. Ef you listen wi’out in- terruption, I'll be done sooner, heer goes: - “Once upon a time, which time war sum sixteen years ago, a brutal massacre war committed up in nothern Montana. The victims war an old man, an’ a young woman, whose name war Wadsworth— wedded wife of J. Elvira adsworth, the woe meee? : vania. e survivors Aaron Wadsworth of Pennsy of the massacre, two infant c n, were sold to a band of rovi Indians, and carried North to the British lines, where they were reared to early man and womanh under the care of an old fur trader and his wife. Now, what I’m drivin’ at, is, do you know where them heirs to the property o’ J. A. Wads- worth are?” “No!” exclaimed the man of millions, eagerly. “but I would give a deal of money did I know. But a few short hours ago I sup that they were dead, until I was told better by a faithless wretch whom I once had in my employ. What do you know of them?” * As much as I hev told you—no more,” replied the hunter. ‘“ But if I find them, as I hope to, I shall warn ’em to ~— shy of their fiend-father, for youar’a fiend, ef thar be such things on Aaron Wads- worth. Look out ferme. I’m huntin’ an’ searchin’, night an’ day, fer them children o’ Elvira Wads- worth, an’ when [ find ’em, they’re bound ter hev a chunk out 0’ your property, bet yer boots.” Whereupon the brawny son of the North-west turn- ed to depart. **Hold!’’ said Wadsworth. “What is your name, So I may know whom I have for an oppo- nen “*My name is Luke Ransom, sir,—Lightning Luke. they call me, up Montana. Anything you would wT Nothing; y Sy th “No i; you may go,” was the reply. After the hunter’s departure Wadsworth sat shulying the in- tricate threading of the carpet, for nearly an hour. **How is this ne going to end?” he asked him- self over and over, eyes emitting sparks of slum- oe After & . r all my years of planning and plotting, am I at last to be baffled in my designs? o! I swore her children should not have a cent of my wealth, and even though I sacrifice it to the four winds of the earth, they shall not. They must perish, and if Bill Burk cannot do the job, J can and wiil /” : sepeonty the unnatural father was terribly in earnest. The next day on his return to his hotel from a long pate = ey age mines, he found two visitors await- ing him in the parlor suit, that had been assigned m The most noticeable of the twain was an army officer, in the uniform of a mater with luxuriant Burnsides, and animpudent familiarity confined to a class of Uncle Sam’s promoted boys in blue. The major’s companion was a young lady, deeply vailed—or, a girl, in other words, if her slight figure was any indication of her age. She was attired in a neat gray costume, and a diamond ring graced her forefinger. The major rose, as Wadsworth entered. ‘Honorable J. Aaron Wadsworth, I presume!” he saluted, with a servile bow. ‘Allow me to intro- duce to you in this _ lady, Miss Stella Wads- worth, my prolegee. am Major ¥Fawdon, honora bly retired from service,” “Ahem! yes, I see,’ said Wadsworth, considera- SS! surprised, and at loss to fully comprehend. ““ How am I indebted to you for this interview?” “IT called on business,” replied the major. “ Six- teen years ago, Mr, Wadsworth, your wile was Lik
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ed, by your order, and your babes, unknown to you, sold toa band of roving Indians, You have always supposed them dead, along with your wife, and you have lived as sinners are tted to live, in the ny epee that your would have no heirs. In this you were mistaken, “One of your wife’s children grew up to maiden- hood, aud was placed under my care by an old north- ern fur-trader, and I now take pleasure in present- ing her rad your inspection. Stella, my dear, raise your va The young woman obeyed, and the rich man’s in- credv.ous gaze fell upon a fair face, perfect in out- line ond sweet in expression—a face that an artist mighi \orship, or that might become a poet’s idol. : e cir was golden in hue and fellover the pretty shoul(crs in profusion; the girl, as_a whole, was re- mark:.bly pretty—for she was yet but a girl not out of her teens by three years, “There!” the major exclaimed, enthusiastically, his eyes gleaming with exultance, “how like you the picture, Mr. Wadsworth? Do you not see before you tho very image of the wife whose death you caused, years ago? Stella, dear, this is the father = eon I have told you. What do you think of im Lal “As yet I haven’t formed-an opinion,” replied the ga, eying the man, paar gees b “Ana you, Aaron Wadsworth—what do you think of my claimant?” “T recognize her,’’ was the reply, without hesita- tion, “‘as Elvira’s child, and my heiress!" But fiere was a tone of menace underlying his speeca! CHAPTER VI. EVENTS OF A WILD, STORMY NIGHT. “Ha! ha!” laughed Deadwood Dick, defiantly, as he perceived that none of his comrades had been in- ynred by the volley of bullets. ‘‘ Mates,” he said, his voice betraying veh “we're in a tight fix, an’ no mistake. e ought to have come mounted, and then we could have shown these dogs our heels. But we didn’t, and here we are, neatly cornered, and with only one way open to us for escape—namely, vu» this ravine, which, after a mile of tortuous wind- ing ends in the face of a big, craggy barricade. ere is no use, then, for us to try to escape in this d-rection. All we can do is fight, and let every shot t ‘la tale to these Regulators that will never be for- gotten!” “ Bravo. boy ee !” said Lieutenant Cambre, earn- estly...“ Let this teach ‘em a lesson long to be borne in mind—that we're life even to the death,” And the road-agents took up the ery: “We're life even to the death!” The gloom in this place was perfectly dense, and no idea could be formed of the exact locality of the euemy.”’ “= vil try and reconnoiter a little,’ said Dick, ofiter consultation with the lieutenant. ‘‘The devils riay be waitin’ fer it to lightning,” with an appre- honsive glance skyward, ‘‘and then they can pelt it to us handsome.” “Hold on,” ventured Buffalo Ben, eagerly; “let mez do the scoutin’,’ captain. Don’t be afraid to trust 10, fer I ain’t a-goin’ to try to run off till you say “Good!” Deadwood Dick exclaimed, cutting the young man’s bonds. ‘‘T reckon you're to be trust- ed, and I’ve heard that your skill as a scout_is won- derful; so gO ahead, and bring us back all the news ou can. ’ Ben tightened his belt, and after looking to the condition of his revolvers, which the road-agents had armitted him to retain he stepped cautiously away H ito the impenetrable gloom, “We orter hev thet feller among us,’’ declared one of the agents, admiringly, after the scout had disap- sare. : “T would not put his neckin the os ola noose by iaffmencing him oin us,” replied Dick. “True!” eed Cambre... ‘The brand_of a road- azent should never rest upon his shoulders, as it /.9e8 upon ours. What kicked up the row to-night, captain, and stirred up the Regulator hornets’ nest?’ ‘He who has once before caused me trouble—the Veserter and traitur, Fred Audley,” replied Dick, “ J was passing through the street with my mask off, end a beard upon my face in place of it, when he recognized me, and pointed me out to Old Roxly the Regulator. “ Before I could draw a revolver and fire upon him he had esca) in the crowd. I saw there was an un- healthy outlook for a feller of my description about then, so I lit out.” . “You met the cusses again after we divided and started for here?” asked bre. “Yes, or rather, ran through ‘em, and got several lead pills into my carcass,” witha low laugh. ‘But i don’t mind ’em much, though they weakened on me at first.”’ In the meantime Buffalo Ben was creeping out of the mouth of the dark, narrow ravine, where his companions were waiting, into the wider and more inviting gulch, wherein, nestled Deadwood’s magic city, and from whence had come the discharge of 8. The darkness seemed to be increasing—at least the sky was growing momentarily blacker, and threat- ened a fierce storm, ere long. Already taint blushes of lightning were beginning to play across the angry heavens, and a dull roar of thunder became audible. “Let her pour as much as she pleases, but dis- pense with the fireworks,” muttered the young seout, crawling along, inch by inch, with utmost caution. “Somehow, I wouldn't like to see Deadwood Dick aad his follers git laid out, though they ain’t much ap to be a pretty fair sort o’ chap, aoe wriggled, making less noise than a mouse; 0 never off is guard, his eyes scrutinizing each sus- and Deadwood Dick and his men waited anxiously for the return of the scout. What could be the cause of his delay? “To me it seems about time the chap were giving an account of himself,’’ said Cambre, impatiently. “‘T could have scouted half around Deadwood in this time.” “You express my thoughts, too,” replied Dick, pacing back and forward. ‘ He ought to be back by this time.”’ . ** Andis back!” exclaimed a voice, and a dark figure loomed into view through the gloom. “ But ther ain’t time fer palaver, if you want to escape; so come along, an’ don’t make no more poise’n a cat!’’ And without further explanation, he was gone, leav- ing for guide only the sound of his footsteps. But, this clew was sufficient for Deadwood Dick to follow, and he and his companions crept away through the | darkness, as he | under the delusion they were | following the lead of Buffalo Ben. But, they were soon to be apprised of their mistake, Just as they debouched from the ravine into the gulch, there was a terrible jarring roar of heaven's artillery. followed by three successive flashes of lightning, that illuminated the black night with a vivid glare. Then came the deadly ring of a score of rifles— wild shouts of victory from a swarm of men who poured out from cover of the scattered pines—dying groans from dying road-agents:—it was a terrible moment, aud one in which life was coptring with every weapon’s ring—for a few of the Night-Hawks, with Deadwood Dick at their head, had stood the fire, and their flashing revolvers were speaking death to the enemy, each and every momen t. But their number was only five and the Regulators counted full three score; they made a triumphant rush, and swallowed up the little band—captured them, and bound them hand and foot. Then throughout Deadwood spread like wildfire the news of the capture of the dare-devil road-agents, and even though the storm poured down its deluge of water, and the thunder boomed along the heavens | and the lightning’s glare was constant, the streets were thronged with an excited populace, eager to | learn the truth of the matter, and get a glimpse of the prisoners. But in this Per were doomed to disappointment. for Deadwood Dick and his pals had been hurried away to confinement in a strong cabin on the south- ern outskirts of the town. Here the crowd assembled, and standing in the drenching rain outside the grim structure, inside of | which the road-agents h been locked, they dis- eussed the startling events. Old. Roxly, who had succeeded Denby, as chief of the Regulators, had stationed a guard every yard around the cabin, and warned them that if the pris- oners were not there at sunrise their own necks must satisfy the hangman’s noose. Then with the rest of his posse, he had spurred back to the Metropolitan, which was their head- quarters, and full a gallon of ‘‘ tarantler juice "’ was used to wash down the thirst occasioned by their great victory. In the meantime let us visit Deadwood Dick in his strange prison. : The interior of the cabin was all in one apartment, and unfurnished. It had been one of the first struc- tures erected in the gulch, but for some strange rea- son, which we shall not attempt to explain, it had never been tenanted, Therefore Old Roxly had fitted it up as a cage for his captured ey and the Prince of the Road and the remnant of his band were the first to occupy it. They were thrust rudely inside, bound hand and foot, after which the Ly Seg departed, locking the door after them, and leaving the little band to their meditations. Fortunately they were not gagged, and this left them a freedom of speech they hastened to improve, “ Well,” Deadw Dick said, after the Regulators had gone, ‘‘I reckon we few that’s left may consider ourselves lucky. I expected we'd git our necks stretched, sure PoP, when I found that the cusses were too many for us. How many is there left of us, mates; for I have not taken time to count up?” “There’s six of us,’’ replied Cambre, who had been among those to stand up under the terrible fire. Jean Douglass, Rock Luger, Dan Forbray, Kit Custer, and you and me.” ‘* And there were a dozen of us before!” the young chief muttered, bitterly. ‘‘ But, thank the Lord, our band ain’t all gone yet, There’s enough left at the stronghold to thrash the life out of these Regulator | dogs—and they'll avenge us, too, bet your pile on | that.” ‘“May my curses rest upon that Buffalo Ben!” cried ee fiercely, “It is to him we owe this ee defeat, for had we remained in the ra- vine —" “They could have picked us off, one by one, with | the lightning’s aid, and made a more complete vic- | me than they have now!” finished Dick, decisively. | “Traitor though this Buffalo Ben is, he couldn't / have worked it any better for us; for while, if we | | | had remained in the ravine we should all have been shot down, in coming out, six of us are alive, and eend en of escape.”’ sod eh eying ty “A devilish poor show !"’ growlec it Custer. opine we'll be called upon to try on Lynch's brand 0° halter-collars afore another sunset, and that'll be the eend of our career,” “Never give up the ship while there’s any hope, which there always is as long as there is life,” said Dick, cheerfully. ‘‘I would not take an offer of a thousand dollars for my carcass, now, for all death is grinnin’ at us, and apparently comin’ nearer *n’ nearer. My motto is your motto, mates—‘ we're life even to the death.’ Is it not.so?’ “Ay! ay!” assented the other five... ‘‘ We're life even to the death.” “Which, allow me to remark, very appropriately expresses my sentiments !’’ exclaim ing from a rear end of the cabin. “Hello!” Deadwood Dick cried, startled beyond lea ‘*who are you, away back there in the ar’ Loy “T reckon the letters of poy cognesnens properly placed, would spell Buffalo Benjamin!” was the cool response, as a dark object came rolling across the rough, ming | floor, “Guess you didn’t speculate that ye'’d find me in. hayr did ye, judgin’ from your conversation.” . Well, no!’ the young chief admitted, ‘‘I sup- ~ posed you were feasting with the Regulators, over your success in betraying us to our enemies.” “Hold on, thar, pard!’’ the scout cried, rather sharply; ‘I ain’t no traitor, and I don’t want to be called one. Ef the durned gaionse hadn’t captured me, I should have come back to you with my report. As it is, I'm elected to swing along wi’ the rest o” you, all because they think I’m a road-agent, which ain’t, nor don’t care to be.”” “Ha! then you say you did not come and lead us down into the very face of the Regulators’ fire?’ “T swear it, if necessary. By feelin’ o’ m a voice, com- uni- | form, you'll see it’s buck-skin, instead of my buffer garb. The galoots give my suit to one o’ their crowd, an’ as a consequence he cum and fetched you right down into the limericks!”’ Deadwood Dick saw, with his keen power of per- ception, that the fearless young scout was telling the ruth. “T must beg you to forgive my unjust suspicions of you!”’ he said, earnestly. ; utside the storm roared and tore with unusual flerceness; the rain poured down in a deluge, and made a rushing river down through Deadwood, put- ting to rout all pedestrians that were abroad; tear- ing out dams and sluice-boxes, and even carrying away tents and now and then a shanty that stood in the way of the furious torrent. The thunder boomed and crashed as it had seldom been heard to do be- fore, and the terrible vivid glares of lightning came and went, incessantly, Only the guards paced their beats, and faced the weird musie of the warring elements. Silence prevailed in the cabin prison. No one seemed in a talkative mood; and, too, the roar of the storm nearly drowned the sound of their voices, The confined road-agents dropped oif, one by one. into.a sound sleep. Buffalo Ben was not long behind them, though he tried to keep awake. It was approaching day-dawn when they awoke— awoke to make a startling discovery. While wrapt in repose somebody or something had ot bhi their bonds, and they were free, to use their m But their astonishment was further inereased when, on ‘‘counting noses,’’—to use a western ex- pression—they e the discovery that, by some strange and unaccountable means, one of their num- ber had effected his a ! And that one was—Deadwood Dick! CHAPTER VIL. OUT OF BONDAGE—MUZZLE TO MUZZLE. Yrs, gone was Deadwood Dick, and no mistake, for he was notin the cabin, and a shout of joy es- caped the road-agents as they became assured of the t fact. “Thank God our captain has escaped, even though we are still in durance!”’ said Cambre, earnestly; “he will now strike a blow for our liberty, and we shall again be free!” “Hurrah!” cried the others, in unison—' Dead- wood Dick, forever!” “I’m puzzled to know how he escaped,’’ observed Buffalo Ben, examining the walls of the cabin. “Hyer’s only one window, an’ that’s guarded with bars of iron. The dooris locked from the outside, an’ that leaves no other avenue of escape, as I can “Unless it is up through there,” pointing to the fire-place and its accompanying huge chimney. “ He could get up through there if he had outside help, which he probably did.” “Right. _That explains his escape.” “Couldn't we make a break in that direction?’” asked one of the men. “ Durned ef I ain't gittin’ tired o’ stayin’ penned up in hayr.” “Tt is too near daylight to try to escape, I reckon," replied young Jerome. ‘I've got a better plan,’ said Lieutenant Camb thoughtfully. ‘‘ Doubtless we shall soon have a visi from the Regulators. We must be on the watch, an’ when they open the door to comein we must rush out, and trust to our feet to take us out 0’ danger.” “You can do it if you like—not I!” Ben declared, decidedly. ‘Perhaps it may be your best chance, but, as for me, I am not a road-agent, and if I re- main it will be that much proof inmy favor. See?’ “T’m afeard Old Roxly won’t look at it in that light, pard. He’s a stubborn old jack-mule, an’ don't listen to reason worth a cent. He'll calculate ye’re one of us who hadn't Bo enough to attempt to es- cape, and consequently Judge Lynch will officiate at your funeral *twixt now and sunset.” “Well, mebbe so, an’ mebbe not,’ Ben answered, carelessly. “‘ Reckon I'll stand my chances, anyhow. A feller can’t demise only onc’t; I hain’t very pur~ tickler as ter ther time.”
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The storm slacked up_as day began to dawn; a breeze laden with the Rone of mountain flowers wafted in through the barred aperture called a win- dow. Nothing could be heard of the sentinels outside. Probably they were either asleep, or had deserted their post during the night’s wild tempest. The lat- ter was the most probable theory, considering the escape of Deadwood Dick. ‘We'll soon have company,” remarked Buffalo Ben, pacing to and fro—* all Deadwood will be down topay us a morning visit. There! listen—some one is approaching now.” Footsteps were indeed heard drawing near, and it was evident that quite a multitude was coming. As they came closer to the cabin there was considerable commotion—an angry hum of voices—shouts and oaths; then the key was heard to turn quickly in the lock and the door swung open. But, no sooner was an opening made, than the road-agents, with Cambre at their head, made a pre- cipitate rush out of doors, agen down the Regu- lators and springing nimbly over them. Then away they dashed up the gulch and into the dense forest that flanked the mountain side, followed by a harmless volley of bullets from the weapons of those of the Regulators who had not been prostrated. Instant pursuit was given, every man joining in thus leaving the cabin u rded, for it was supposed that all the prisoners had effected their bine 3 But, theré was one who had not joined in the stampede, and that one was Buffalo Ben. He came to the door after the Regulators were some distance off, and chuckled to himself as he stepped forth into the air of freedom, and sauntered leisurely toward the busy town. * ‘Bout as lucky an escape as a feller could ask for,’ was his comment, as he walked along. ‘‘ Don’t reekon I'll be troubled on this score again, unless I war recognized last night. Hope them cusses es- caped, for they seemed right jolly sort 0’ dogs.” As he entered the town Ben stopped at a sluice where a couple of miners were washing sand indus- triously—early birds they were, who came to the hills to make money. ***Mornin’, pardner!”’ saluted one, looking up from his pan. “Terrible storm we hed. Lookin’ fer a job? “Oh, no.’ Ben shook his head with a grimace. ‘No diggin’ ferme. D*ye make it pay?” ‘*Purty fair—yes. Starm tuk away a gude bit 0’ payin’ top layer; sum left, still, tho’.” t this juncture two persons, evidently out for morning exercise, galloped along on a couple of handsome bays—a man with Burnsides, and attired in army uniform, and a young maiden in elegant riding-habit, very pretty of face and form. Evidently Ben recognized them both, for he raised his cap to the maiden; the man he scarcely deigned a glance, Perhaps the slight was conducive to anger in the officer, for he wheeled his horse down toward the sluice, and jerked him back upon his haunches, “You young jacknapes!” he cried, furiously, rais- ing his riding-whip as though to strike, ‘‘how dare you have the impudence to insult this young lad in my company by saluting her? I'll learn you be ter manners!” And the whip came down with a vicious swish across the scout’s shoulders. Of course it was but a mere toy, and the blow was scarcely felt; yet it caused a flame of anger to £° rio over Buffalo Bon’s face. He stepped back a pace, his eyes gleam- ing Lye priest : “You cowardly dog!” he cried, “‘ you shall pay for this, mark my word. I am slightly acquainted with Miss Stella, your companion, and I deem it no dis- honor to her if I bow as she passes. You, sir, have insulted. me by striking me, and you are a coward.” At this the two miners, who had stopped their work, laughed loudly, and the officer, who was no other than Major Fawdon, grew red in the face. “I'm a coward, eh?” he cried, hotly; “you cursed imp, Pll show you how much of a coward Iam, _ Be- fore these men, I challenge you to fight, if you dare, and give me a chance to obtain satisfaction and wipe out my grudge against you.” Which l agree to wi’ the hugest kind of delight!” Ben replied, coolly. ‘Meet me here an hour hence, if you please. The weapons will be revolvers—my choice.” Just then the major saw that he had lost by being too fast. He should have given the scout eno provocation to insure a challenge from him; he, the a would then have had the choice of weapons, whieh would have been the sword, with which he could have hacked his enemy into bits. But with the revolver he was nowhere. The die was cast, however; to retreat was bencmniny, disgrace; to go ahead was death, without doubt, for young Jerome had a notoriety second to none as a revolver shot. “Very well!” he was forced to say, though he could not feel that it was to end very well for him. “*T will be on hand.” Then he wheeled and rode away to join the young woman, who was waiting, some distance off. ““Do you know that insolent puppy?” he demand- ed, with a frown, as they galloped along together. “TI do,” the girl replied, apparently not in the least disconeerted by his passion-——‘‘have known him a week, Why?” “Then I want you to cease knowing him, and that at oe He is no one for you to notice or associ- ate with.” “Indeed! but 1 am the best judge of that. Heis at least a gentleman.” “God pity the rest of us, if he is a specimen of what you call a gentleman. Come, let’s return to the hotel; I have some business to attend to.” “What business?”’ she asked, watching him. ao : ppc yO ; going to fight.” “No, itis not. You are going . “What of it?” ‘*You will get killed, or he will. Don’t, George,” clutching his arm, as they rode side by side. “Bah!” shaking off ner hand, ‘‘you need have no fear. Ican ily wing him.” ‘** But that would be terrible,.all the same. Please don’t fight, George!” * But I must, sis—Stella, I mean. They’d call me a flunkey, if I were to back out, and I the chal- lenger. o, I must fight; but-don’t fear; [ll come out all right,” They reached the hotel and dismounted, The ma- jor ran up to his room, Stella remained on the ve- | randa. “They will fight and one or the other will get killed,” she murmured, thoughtfully. ‘1 hope it will not be Mr. Jerome—or George, either for that matter.”’ A little later she saw Buffalo Ben come up the street and enter an ammunition store across the way. He had gone to purchase weapons, the Regu- lators having taken his at the time of his capture. PY ge he came out, she ran over and waylaid im. “Oh! Mr, Jerome, you ar’n’t going to fight!’ she said pleadingly. “Don’t for my sake.” “Ths purty hard ter tackle a fellow in that way, Miss Stella. There’s few thi I wouldn't do for your sweet sake, but I can’t give in this time. It’s live or die, for me or Fawdon—die for him, I reckon, for he is no pistol shot.” “Then you won't do me this favor?” the girl said, poulnety, “No; [ll have to refuse you, this time, Stella. He struck me, and I called him a coward, and he challenged me. So we're bound to fight.” ‘“ Why did you call him that?” “Hard to tell, dear. When a feller gets riled he = most always the master o’ his tongue—at least ain't.” “Well, if you must fight, you must, 1 su But why need you kill him?—just wound him stance.” “Might do that, it’s true. But, mebbe he might blunder and plug it to me;—I wouldn't want to go down withou ivatin’ him!” “Oh! he’ll not hit you, never fear. He fired six times at_a buzzard, once, and then missedit. You won't kill him, then?” “No, not if you don’t wish me to.” “All right; see that you keep your word, Now, good-by,”’ and away she flitted back to the hotel, fol- lowed M Ben's admiring gee. “That gal’s a trump!” he muttered, as he strolled on. ‘“ Pretty, intelligent, refined and good-hearted; not much like her brother, durn him!” Major Fawdon came out of the hotel just as Stella _ up the steps, her cheeks all aglow and eyes spark- ng. “You've been out in the street talking with that | > pose. or in- young ruffilan, and publicly disgracing me!” he cried, savagely. ‘‘He’s no more of a than you are, sir!’ flashed Stella, with spirit. ‘You might be glad if TT arpul* Dee annieteaenee sabesapeliaasapie “Humph!” the or’s sneer ion of meg scout, better than worden - “He's a young ruffian, and a blacklez. I’ve warn- ed you to keep away from him; you'll mind, here- after, or Pll lock youin yourroom. Where did you meet him, girl?” ‘None of your business, sir. If you came here to scold, you may sls to some one else than to me!” And with the imperious ~—7) = of a queen the girl moved into the hotel, leaving the major to himself, With a muttered oath, he sauntered down to the claim where he had given Buffalo Ben the challenge. Quite a crowd had collected here, for the news of the coming duel had spread rapidly. Some were d this, and others the escape of Deadwood Dick and men. It seems, that when Old Roxly and his men had come down to the old cabin, they had found the rds lying upon the ground, bound and gagged. urmises were made that some of Deadwood Dick’s uncaptured band had done this work, and then had been frightened off before they could effect the escape of those inside. Prominent among those gatheréd'vat the duel- grouns. was that uncouth and eccentric individual oe Potato Gulch, who called himself Old Rattle- snake. _In his element was he, now, and he capered about me a frisky dog, overjoyed at the return of its mas- ‘*‘Hayr cums the red-nosed galoot w’at says he can lick Buffalo Ben-jam-in!” the miner orig. direct- ing general attention to the major, as he approach- ed. “Oh! Eliza, my blushing primrose, whee art thou, now? Luck at thet ossifer, will ye, pilgrims; obsarve what a dangerous-lookin’ galoo he be! Luck at thet ar’ pistle—oh! ’Lizy! hain'tthet a pomp- ous pistle, now? An’ he’s ther coon w’at they say kin salivate my boyee—my bashful cherub, Ben-jam- “Is Buffalo Ben here, yet?” the major demanded, sweeping the group with his ——s gaze. Y Sena Ny % ge oe e Rattler, with a ; er boyee hain’t ha ilgrim, but he'll be hay in tine ter make mince ples out 0” sech an ornery-lookin’ specimen o’ a bull-whacker as be aie be ae ae era kids on that.” e crowd laughed ily,at the miner’s speech and Swed distinguishable from cheir voices came another laugh—a wild, blood-curdling shriek of nae er, that made the surrounding rocks echo and re-echo. “By heavens!” cried Old Roxly, the Regulator, | ter know what. ‘‘ Some business, I said!’ he retorted, sharply. | | | 7 who chanced to be present, “thet was Deadwood Dick’s laugh, boys, sure’s I’m a livin’ man.” “Hang me ter a mulberry tree ef it wasn’t!’’ as- sented another; and it was generally agreed that the: laugh came from the lips of Deadwood Dick. But no one had taken any notice from whence it came. Buffalo Ben was now seen | ara any g, and a cheer went up, for on short acq tance he had al- ready. become a prime favorite among the miners who seen him around Deadwood. He came upina ing, easy gait, and ran his swinging, | eyes over the crowd until he singled out the major. “Well!” was his salutation, see. Hour’s up, ain’t it?” “Yes,” Fawdon replied, glancing at his gold watch. * Are you ready?” Fs sep reckon I am, all except choosing a sec- ond.”’ “Hyer’s yer Thomas K. Cat!’’ declared the man from Potato Gulch—“‘I’m yer man, pilgrim, durn my old sow’s last litter of pigs, ef I ain't! ‘You'll do as well as any, perhaps,’ Ben agreed; ‘all you've to do is ter see fair play done.” The major chose a gambler by the name of Reese; then the ground was paced off—twenty yards being the measure. Then the two took their places, facing each other; the seconds, and a counter, who was no less a per- sonage than old Jack Fergueson, formed in line to one side, with drawn weapons. The crowd also as- sumed side positions, and most of them had drawn their weapons to enforce fair play. At the word: **One!” The Terrons of the duelists were cocked and lev- eled. Both were handsome revolvers. * Two!” cried Fergueson, grimly. “Oh! Eliza, my primrose!’’ whispered the Rattler, — now's yer time!”’ And then there was a breathless silence, awaiting the fatal Three! ‘you’re on hand, I CHAPTER VIII. “m1 mercy Wa, Hage ont Oht help: help mercy, don’t, please don’ for the love of God!” - Ina wild, piercing scream of d rung out these words, emanating from one of a hundred -cabins that dotted the steep hillside above Deadwood. Then came a sound of a descending lash, and more piteous screams followed, in a purely feminine voice. A young man climbing up the hillside, without an apparent object, except to get a view of the sur- rounding country, heard the screams, and stopped. “A woman in difficulty!” he muttered, scanning the different abodes above and around him. ‘Hang me if I know whether I'd better interf. or_ not, Don’t like to hear a feller-mortal screech fer help, without givin’ ’em a lift, but who knows but what I ay git my fingers burnt fer Eel e listened again, and heard the sound of heavy blows, and repetition of the pitiful screams—screams of some woman in most excruciating agony. “Durned if I can stand’ any more of thet music,” the listener said, moving rapidly toward a cabin from which he was itive came the so’ “Pil make it hot work for somebody, or my e ain’t % = i ae d Drayto: it, and up e door nm wen ve a kneel that made it tremble, ~¥ No screams fiow came from the inside, but he could hear low, moaning Ss, which he knew came from the victim of the punishment. There were, however, sounds of voices in stealthy conver- sation; then the demand was give in a coarse, gruff bay undeniably a woman’s vi ; a“ ¥. o's oy, m és. “You just hurry up and open the door, an’ you'll d out,” returned the wrestler, authorieativoly, “Don’t be a month o’ Sundays about it, neither!” *‘'Who be ye an’ what d’ye want?” was again ask- ed, after more inaudible conversation on the inside. * You'll see when Hey: open up.” To his surprise, the bars were shot back, and a moment later Silver Sal upon the threshold, She uttered an oath as she saw the wrestler: she ae or Ye be et by chance, at the Metro- n. é€ wou ave re ted, only Drayton’s fovchver covered her heart. Pa, aly nig * Hold hen! ma’am!"’ the wrestler said, coolly. pe et a ittle Mig ne ter transact wi’ you, so on n a hurry. oO were you pounding, you bloated she-wretch?”’ 7 4 Silver Sal gave vent to a forced laugh. “Oh! I see,” she said, understandingly; “you have made a mistake. Them screeches cum from next door, whar old Yansley’s bin lickin’ his wife.”’ Just then groans were heard inside the room, “There! what d'ye say to that?” the wrestler de- manded, triumphantly, “‘ Tell_me that cum from Yansley’s, will ye?” ** No, I won’t lie,” the woman answered, devoutly, “I despise a liar above allelse. Mr. St. Elmo, will you come here, a minnit?” In answer the worthy in eye made his appear- ance at the door, beside the coarse figure of the Boss Gal. He would doubtless have drawn a pistol, only that Wregng Walt warned him to desist, with a shake of his head. : “Let your shootin’-iron alone, Saint!’’ he coolly, “or I'll ventilate you in the latest approv style.Don’t imagine I can’t do it, fer my revolver is gazin’ shea of you.” you!” St. Elmo hissed, biting at his black mustache flercely, “Curse me as much as you please,” Walt replied, with a grin of nn , “for thet’s all ye’re able ter nm ou an’ this greasy Hainy, an’ I’m goin’ Ef you've been lickin’ sum poor do at present. I ow that wretch ar’ inter sum kind 0’
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——_——__ —- Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. girl thet’s in yer power, I’m aduck ef I don't hev you strung up ter ther nearest tree.” 4 ot see — wan oin’ to do!” St. Elmo reto , Sneeringly. “‘It w uire your steady attention to wehch us,”” ob rR “Oh! never you fear but what I’ll make both ends meet,’’ Walt replied, perching himself upon a stum close at hand, without waverin Pp. : his aim. ‘I most generally go through with what I undertake. “Some one ’Il come 4p? pers whom I can get to give me alift. Ha! n’t I tell you? Here comes a fellow, now.” A man clad in full hunter’s costume was descend- ing from toward the — of the mountain, and ata signal from Wrestling Walt he Bo Ns peng t was the same iron-framed borderer who had called upon J. Aaron Wadsworth, and given his name as Luke Ransom—or Lightning Luke. “Well! well! young feller, you seem ter hold a full hand!” he exclaimed, with a broad grin, as he ap- proached. “Think so! well, now, I don’t count two tricks a very full hand. Couldn't hold enny more, at present, very conveniently, though.”’ “No, Ished say not. ’at’s the row?” “Oh! these worthies have been floggin’ somebody inside, there. I called ’*em out, an’ convinced ’em that it was best fer’em to stand here under m Soros till sum one come along to investi- ga 9 “TU see about it,’’ Ransom said, striding toward the cabin. “Hold on!” Walt ordered, authoritatively; “not so fast, thar, if ye please!” ** How?” the borderer asked, looking back. ‘Don’t be so much in a hurry,” Drayton advised. ** Just bind these two wolves in men and wimmen’s garb, an’ then we'll both take a look.” Accordingly Lightning Luke produced some stout cord from his game-bag, and securely bound the wrists of St. Elmo and Silver Sal together. “Thar, now,”’ he said, with a laugh, “ ~ can take a hime down ter ther gulch ef ye like, an’ ex- hibit yerselves fer ther Siamese twins.” “Sure enough; git a-goin’!” a d Walt, and with the toe of his t he gave St. Elmo a start-off, and away went the strangely-assorted pair, howling back their threats. Salwas for staying near to the cabin, and keeping a watch over it, but her unamiable com- panion pulled her along down the hill, bent on find- ng — one kind enough to release him from his onds. Wrestling Walt and Ransom now turned their at- tention to the cabin, after watching the prisoners go down the hill. On entering, they beheld a sight that caused them to involuntarily cry out in horror—to hide their eyes to keep out the terrible sight. Lying upon the floor, welterin blood—blood that had gushed from cruel wounds upon her body, was a young girl, of seventeen, or thereabouts, in a state nearly akin to nudeness, for her dress was torn down to her waist. On her back were bloody welts and gashes that had been made by an ugly rawhide whip, which lay upon the floor; blood was smeared upon a face that was very pakea’§ in feature; the hair was long and golden, and very heavy. She was lying in a state of semi-insensibility; she did not seem to know of the presence of the two men, yet she groaned in a low, pitiful manner. “ This is awful!” exclaimed restling Walt, shud-~ dering. ‘It’s lucky for the poor thing’s ees nec that I knew nothing of the enormity of their crime, for I'd have shot them down without hesitation.” “And served ‘em right,’ agreed Ransom. ‘“ But, come; let’s git the gal out of this difficulty; ugh! I hate to tech her, fer fear it will hurt her.” : ‘What shall we do wi’ her?” the wrestler asked, ars! sacpenaee “Hanged if I’m much of a nurse fer wimmen kind.” “Leave me ter ’tend ter that part,”’ responded Ransom. ‘I’m sum’at of a nurse myself. We'll ed kerry the gal up ter a cave about a mile above ere; that’s whar I hold out, and she'll be safe.”” “Very well,” assented Walt, He was glad enough to have the borderman take the responsibility from his shoulders. ‘ Let’s get to work before that old she-cat and St. Elmo come back upon us.” They tenderly raised the maiden from the floor, end while Drayton held her up in an upright posi- tion, Luke Ransom washed and dressed her wounds with care and skiJl. Her torn dress was then re- adjusted, and she was made more comfortable. etween them the two men carried her out of the cabin, and up the mountain-side, far above where civilization had encroached with its canvas and wooden abodes. Here was a large fissure or open- ing in the erags, which led into a cave of moderate dimensions. } A fire was burning, which gave the surroundings something of a chee:ful appearance. A few blan- kets, a rude bench or table, and a couple of camp- stools comprised the furniture. “There!” exclaimed Ransom, as the girl was laid upon the blankets. ‘‘ Now, we'll fetch her to, an’ see what there is about this matter. Danged ef she ain't right perty, now, fer one o’ her size.” ‘Iagree with you,” the wrestler replied, admir- ingly. ‘‘Somewhere I’ve seen a face that reminds me of this, and hair, too, alike, but I cannot now tell where.” « The blood was washed from the face, thereby en- hancing its rare beauty, and the hair combed out; then Ransom poured a small quantity of liquor be- tween the pale lips from a flask that he carried. The effect was satisfactory, for in a few moments the poor thing gave a gasp, and opened her eyes, staring about her in evident affright. *“*Don’t be skeered, miss,’ Luke in little pools of said, gently, “ Ye're in safe hands, now, an’ ye needn’t be afeard o’ our w'ippin’ you; eh, re ““No; we’re your friends!” replied Walt, earnestly. “How do you feel?” te so very lame and sore,’’ moaned the girl. ‘My back seems perfectly raw, and my head aches, terribly.” “No wonder; them brutes nigh "bout killed you, hanged ef they didn’t. War the woman yer moth- er?’ “Ugh! no; Lhave no mother nor father—only a brother, of my same age, and God only knows where he is, now. have not seen him fora year. The woman stole me from him and the fur-trader’s home where we lived, and brought me to this place. She tried to make me dance in a whisky hell, but I wouldn't, and she beat me without mercy; but, thank God, I was strong enough to hold my own, un- til to-day, when she got a bad man to hold me, while she flogged me with a cruel whip!” A ery of horror esca honest Luke Ransom, wns alt Drayton uttered an oath under his reath. arose never deemed St. Elmo such a base villain as this, oot they had visited-various towns through e on very intimate or friendly terms, yet Dra; not cared so much about it, for he perceiv ym had that St. Elmo was of a grim, taciturn nature. But he had | never counted him so great a villain. “T’ll *tend to this matter, lady,” he said. ‘“‘If the woman an’ her com on don’t suffer twice what you have suffered, why, I’m out of my mind.”’ “Thank you, sir; both of you are very kind, and I shall always feel grateful toward you. Heaven alone knows what had been my fate had not you come and pean at the door, for I was fast yielding to the ure.”’ ** And do you feel any better now?” “Yes, my back does not pain me so much, though it is very sore.” “Tt will soon be well, if you keep quiet,” said Drayton, ‘ Here you are safe, and need fear noth- ing. But you have not told us your name?” ‘TL had forgotten, sir, it is Belle Jerome.” “Jerome? I’ve heard such a name, somewhere, What was your brother’s handle?” “Ben, sir—Buffalo Ben, he was more generally called, because he wore a buffalo-skin suit.’ “Buffalo Ben? Is it possible? Why, there is a fel- low here in Deadwood who answers to that name and suit; at come to think, he has golden hair, like yours!” “Oh! that is my dear brother!” cried the girl, hg up, wonderfully. ‘Are you sure he is ere?”’ * Positive, for I saw him, not two hours ago, come out of a powder store, down in the gulch.” “Then, please go and find him, at once, and bring him here, will you?” “Prudence would advise that I wait ’til night be- fore venturing out, for fear your enemies might be watching, and bring overpowering numbers to recap- ture you. Then, you shall see him.” So they waited ‘for darkness; but before it came. there came something else that effectually prevented the wrestler from leaving the little cabin on his mis- sion—something frightful, unexpected. CHAPTER IX. THE DUEL—IN PERIL. *THreE!’’ shouted Fergueson—‘ fire!” Then there were two sharp, ringing reports, and a jet of flame lea from each revolver-muzzie—the sing of two leaden death-messengers was distinctly heard by the spectators. * My gold nuggit *in’ seventy million dollars, thet ther boyee ain’t hurt!” roared the man from Pota- to Gulch. ‘Whoop ’em, Eliza Jane! who wants ter bet—seventy million ag’in’ my nuggit?” All were electrified at the result of the duel. Buf- falo Ben stood with folded arms, uninjured, un- daunted, ‘ Major Fawdon’s left wrist was shattered, and bé freely; and the major was loudly. “Bind > my hand!”’ he cried fiercely; ‘*I'm going to kill that young thief, next time!’ “Oh! Eliza Jane!’ howled Rattlesnake; “ will ye stand that, Buffler),Ben-jam-in? Wull ye allow thet red-nosed at ors —s ter call ye a clepto- mannyack ih! boyee! boyee! yell never rise to ther Presidental cheer, ef ye allow a feller ter slin ‘thief’ in yer face, et this early stage. Don’t h so much arfter ye’re once elected ther tae mee o” yer country; but, now, oh! Eliza, my purple-tinted prim- rose, [blush fer thee, I do, frum the very soul o’ my stogy boots!” “Bind up my hand, I say, somebody!” again cried the major, inarage. ‘“ The next time I’ll—”’ “Git salted worse ’n what you did this time!” fin- ished Ben, coolly; ‘‘so I should advise you to stop before you go too far.” ‘Oh! you can crow as much as you Snape. curse you!’ Fawdon returned, savagely. “It’s your life or mine, now!"’ “All right; I’m satisfied if youare. I judge I can fix you out in fine style, with one more shot. ‘*Hurra! three cheers fer ther Star-jangled Span- ner!’ roared he from Potato Gulch, executing a creditable highland fling, in the middle of the space allotted to the duelists. ‘‘ My gold nuggit ag’in’ sev- enty trillion, thet Buffler Ben wins the race wi’out breakin’. He's a thorough-bred stallion, ar’ Ben, fel- ler-pilgrims, an’ kin jist crawl away frum yonder lazy jack-mule, Jeeutiful!”’ ‘See here!” the major yelled, rushing up to the eccentric miner, and for the moment forgetting his injured wrist, “you noisy lout, I want to hear less est, and wrestled before large audiences; never | from you, or you'll be sorry. Call me fhat over d I'll undertake the responsibility of knock- again, an ing Gat down.” ‘Oh! Eliza!” geened the other, evidently aston- ished, ‘‘ you knock me down, you long mule— you red-nose son of a pot-’ras’ler—” Up came the officer’s hand, and a blow was aimed | full in Old Rattlesnake’s bewhiskered face; but it | was dextrously warded off, and the next thing the unlucky major knew he was lying outstretched upon the ground. S oop *em up! Eliza Jane!’’ sung the miner | victoriously. ‘ Thet’sther kind uv a Thomas K. Cat | Iam. Did ye hear me me-e-eow?” | The major was assisted to his feet by a couple who | sympathized with him in his trouble. His clothes |} were dirtied, one foot was wet, pile | projected in- | to the sluice, and his left eye was swollen shut. Aripple of laughter ran through the crowd, as they looked at him. One would have said that he was badly whipped, at a first glance; but such was not the case. “Where is Buffalo Ben?” he demanded, gazing around with his one useful eye. “Oh! Eliza!” murmured Rattlesnake, with a grim- ace—‘I thort he war about ter ask fer me.” “Buffalo Ben is here!’ the youth replied, from precisely the same spot where he had stood when he wounded his antagonist. ‘If you ain’t satisfied yit, why come ter time at onc’t, and I'll feed ye.” **Yes,”’ said old Jack Fergueson, ag Feeney “of ye want any more, major, come ter bizness; time’s money, now-a-days, you know.” ** Sech bein’ ther case, hyer’s a me-e-eowin’ Thom- as K. Cat as would like ter swop off a few hours 0’ time each day, fer a big allowance of filky lucre!” the man from Potato Gulch announced, gravely. The major got one of the crowd to bind up his wrist. It was excessively painful, but his honor was at stake, and he was determined to wreak vengeance | on the cool youth, who stood smilingly looking on— the golden-haired young scout, who was hourly win- ning golden opinions from the rude, honest mining element. The wrist bandaged, the major toed the mark, a revolver cocked in his right hand, which trembled perceptibly as it came to bear. “Now, gentlemen, do fer Heaving’s sake make yer pellets count, this time; no more o’ yer tender-heart- edness, or I’ll thro’ up the sponge!’ Fergueson cried, peremptorily. “I'll say one, two, three an’ away she goes, an’ I want ye to sock et ter each other fer kill. Dye hear?” “We do!” replied Ben, slipping a loaded cartridge in the place of the exploded one. ‘‘ We're y, now, so go ahead wi’ yer Centenyal clam-bake,”’ ‘** Ar’ ye ready, major?” ‘** Perfectly,” was the mechanical response, “ Ar’ ye ready, Ben-jam-in?’’ queried the man from Potato Gulch, anxiously. ‘* Perfectly,” assured Ben with a grin _ “Very well; we'll perseed ter business,’’ Fergueson announced. *“ One!” . Up came the revolvers to a dead level. Ben was cool, self-possessed, fearless. aaa Fawdon was pale and nervous: his hand trembled so much that it was with difficulty he could keep anything of an aim upon his adversa- ry’s heart. “Two!” “Three! and away she goes!” cried Fergueson, rapidly. wo flames lea from the steel tubes, and then e major utte: a yell of pain. This time a bul- let had shattered his right hand, tearing one finger out of joint. Truly this was wonderful marksman- ship; and applause was given without limit. Ben stoo and picked up a long lock of golden- hair that Fawdon’s bullet had c Pp from one side of his head, without drawing blood. * Pretty close shave!” he remarked, with a grim smile; ‘they say a miss ar’ good’s a mile, however, What ails the major? Got a stomachful, eh?” * Have he?” roared the Potato-gulchian. ‘‘ Reckon s0. Whoop ’em up, Eliza, blushin’ primrose; ¢het’s ther kind ov shootin’ I luv ter see. Plugged et ter him jes’s hansum as ary mortill man ked do, an’ not half try!” The major swore roundly, and shook his injured ht fist at Buffalo Ben threateningly. Curse you!” he cried, his face livid with hate. “Tll be even with you, yet, or my name ain't Gecees Fawdon. Even though you have disabled me, there ar’ men in Deadw who'll work for werk and whom you won’t trifle with. Remem- r ” And then the vanquished duelist turned, and left the spot, followed by a taunting laugh from young Jerome, and also another laugh from some unknown source—the terrible, chilling laugh of Deadwood Dick—wild, mocking, awful! But no one knew whither it came; was naturally aroused, that, in deep e dare-devil road-agent chief was in their midst! _Among a hundred men, how could one man be singled out as the disguised Richard? ajor Fawdon returned to his hotel, and as he ran up the steps Stella came out to meet him. “Oh! George!” she exclaimed, her eyes dilating, **vou have been hurt.” ; ‘Ruined for life!’ he swore, holding ying hands, ‘Curse that boy; Ill have his life for yet a suspicion isguise, th If I had not exacted a prom- ise from him, he would have killed you.” After the duel, Buffalo Ben sauntered off toward the heart of the town, while the crowd dispersed in several directions. : Everywhere were tittle knots of miners and citi-
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Zens, perme s discussing the news that had spread like wildfire through the place, concerning thees- cape of Deadwood Dick and his men. is he proceeded the young scout saw a Regulator approaching, wearing Ais suit of buffal n, in which he had always taken so much pride. But he said nothing, for he did not care to have the Regula- tors remember that it was he whom they had cap- tured as a road-agent wd In passing the hotel where Fawdon stop he saw Stella motioning to him from an upper window, and waited till she joined him on the steps. ‘“You nearly killed George,” was her reproachful salutation. **Oh! no; adozen such wounds would not kill him,” Ben assured, with a smile. Me | mad, isn’t he?”’ “Mad? that’s no name for it. You have crippled him, and he’ll spend every cent he is worth but what he'll see you put underthe turf. Beware of assas- sins, hereafter.” es, I'll keep an eye open in the back of my head. Reckon t ey’ll hev to git up in the mornin’ to circumvent me, tho’! “You are too confident. Sometime you will get struck, when off your guard.”” ‘“Which I never am,” was the reply. “Here; do you want this?’’ He held up the long golden curl which Fawdon’s bullet had clipped from his head—a soft silken ring- let that any man might be proud to wear, and sorry to lose. Stella seized it with a delighted little cry, and kiss- ed it fondly—then blushed in confusion at her bold- ness. ‘* Where did you—how—when—” she began— “*Tt was shot from the side of my head,” he said, smiling, “by your amiable brother.” ‘“* My brother!” she exclaimed, evidently astonish- ed.‘ What do you mean?” “T mean that your brother, Major Fawdon, shot the lock away during our duel.” “Hal ha! agoodjoke. Major Fawdon my brother? I supposed you knew better than that, Mr. Jerome.”’ * Then = deny that heis your brother?” “Certainly. He is my gu a “ And your name is—” “Stella Wadsworth!” ** Wadsworth /”’ Buffalo Ben stared at her, curious- ly. ‘“*Humph! Ill bet a coon-skin you’re tryin’ ter shet my eye up. Either you ain’t Wadsworth, or else the major ain’t Fawdon; fer it’s plain enough that you two are brother and sister.” “Some persons always make mistakes!” the girl retorted, with a toss of her head. Just then the report of a pistol-shot rung out, and abullet whizzed by unpleasantly near to Jerome’s head. Involunta he raised eyes toward the upper windows of the hotel, and beheld the sullen face of Major Fawdon withdraw from view. ** Who fired that shot?” Stella demanded, glancing about in alarm. ‘“*Major Fawdon was amusing himself at a little target practice,” Ben coolly replied, nodding up- ward. ‘Judge I'd best get out of ra before he succeeds in hitting me. See you again, sometime, eh?” J “Yes, of course. I will keep this lock of your hair next to my heart,’’ with an earnest look. ‘‘ Good- da ” “Good-day;” and then Ben went on up the street. mowasd y t he came upon the shanty of “ Mask- ed Maude,” the fortune-teller. The door was open, and the mysterious proprie- tress was standing upon the threshold breathing the perfume-laden breeze that swept down from the mountains. She started as she saw the young revolver shot, then came forward and extended one faultless white hand, saying in a voice of peculiar sweetness, which Ben thought he had h somewhere once before: ‘*Good-evening, sir. Nice, outside.” “Yes, delightful,” Ben replied, wondering ,what was to come next. + “Been into the Metropolitan? “No; what’s going on there?” ~~ “Couldn’tsay. Do you play cards?” “ Sometimes, for amusement.” “ And money, too, I dare say?” ; ‘Rarely. anaes had much luck.” * Come inside, an ve a game.”’ “No, I thank you. Don’t hev no appetite fer cards just at present.” “Bah!” with a merry laugh; ‘“ you’re suspicious— afraid of me, a woman!” “That's a lie!” Ben replied, bluntly. ‘‘ Han if 1 ever saw that female I war "fraid of yet. care for cards, though.” “ Well, let them go, then: but comein and have a social chat.”’ “* Ain’t inno mood fer social chats!’ was the re- joinder. Ben didn’t half like this fortune-teller’s soft, persuasive tones, “Can't help it; you must come in!"' was what came me on’t next. “Must I? Like ter see the critter that can make me do it,’’ and out came a revolver, full cocking with an ominous click. ‘‘ Now go in, lemons.” Masked Maude uttered a low laugh and retreated into the shanty, closing the door after her. Then Buffalo Ben went on up the gulch, wondering more than ever over the mysteries of Deadwood. As the shadows of night fell over the golden me- tropolis, the crowds in the streets became denser, and, cones business livelier. Work was over for the day, and play had just begun. Grim, dirty miners came trudging in from the claims; pick- pockets and dark-browed desperadoes stood on the watch for victims to insnare. Inside the Metropolitan Saloon was the usual crowd of adventurers aud representatives of Dead- Buffalo Ben. wood’s population—a mass of humanity, the faces of which would have been a study for Nast or any other facial artist. Among the audience was Buffalo Ben, sauntering idly around, endeavoring to pass away an evening by watching the sports of others. soon he was destined to take a hand himself. One of the crowd, and no less a man than ex-Lieu- tenant Fred Audley, of Deadwood Dick’s band walked straight up to the young scout, and slap MP Pore: Roxiy hi ed, to the Regulator chief ‘Here, Roxly!”’ he cri e tor chief, who stood afew yards off, “this young galoot can tell ye where Deadwood Dick is. Nab him, and make him tell what he knows.”’ ‘Leave go your hold,”’ said Ben, coolly. “I reckon Bae don’t mean me, stranger; I know nuthin’ o’ eadwood Dick!” “Ho! ho!” the traitor road-agent laughed, mock- ingly. “ve can’t lie to me, my boy: I saw you talkin’ wi’ the s rince, up in ther ch this afternoon,” “Tn that case I shall hold ye!” said the captain of Regulators, advancing. “Hallo!” cried the tor who had taken pos- session of Ben’s buffalocostume; ‘‘thet’s the spy we caught who got off wi’ the road-agents. See! he's got on my togs, and I’m one buffler-skin suit better Oo ” “Right! Roxly assented. ‘‘ We’ve caught our bird this time. Give up your weapons, young feller!” “In this fashion!” Ben cried, rawing and cocking a revolver in each hand, “ Now, come along, you galoots, as want ter take me!” And, as ifin answer to his challenge, a pistol report through the room, and Fred Audley dropped in his tracks—dead / CHAPTER X. DEFENSE ONE OF NATURE'S OWN LAWS. “Deapwoop Dick!” came from the crowd in one involuntary gasp, and then they glared around, as if in fear of beholding his dread standing before them. But if Richard was in the room, he was so | cleverly disguised as to a recognition. Buffalo Ben had been almost in the act of laying ex-lieutenant, but this friendly bullet him the work; he therefore turned to Roxly, who with his Begulecges was standing near, dum founded, for the time ay ilgrims!’’ said Ben, coolly, “ye see what for the s “Thar, p that feller got fer his supper. He war a traitor to rte hing ick’s gang, and got well paid for his reachery.”’ “TI b’leve my soul you shot him, yerself; an’ I shouldn’t much wonder ef you be of Deadwood Dick’s gang!" Roxly cried. “Get out!’’ Ben laughed heartily at the idea. ‘‘ I'm no road-agent cuss; you can bet yer ducats on that!” “T say you are, an’ I’m goin’ ter arrest an’ lynch you, wi’out delay. Boys, seize the little cuss!” “ Hold!” Buffalo Ben cried, his voice ringing out clearly through the room—“hold! you dastard] hounds, and hear me out. I am not a road-agent; swear it. Last night I was captured by Deadwood Dick’s men, just before you Bs them pe . Iwas forced to accompany them into the ravine; I volun- teered to reconnoiter, and you captured me. When the road nts made a rush from the cabin, I did ae Te we're puns to higher than H - ’ we're going ang you r than Haman!” cried Old Roxly. “ -agent or no road-agent, ye war workin’ fer the interests o’ Deadwood Dick, 50 ye're bound to wear a hemp collar. Boys—” “Hold!” Buffalo Ben again cried, his eyes gleam- ing. ‘“‘I have explained Keep off, if you value life, for rather than submit to Judge Lynch, I'll wade through blood so sure as my name is Ben Jerome. Now, then, gentlemen, do as you think best!” There was a momen pause; an intense silence reigned; the great crowd that swarmed around stood on their guard waiting the issue. “Seize him!” cried Roxly; then in a body a dozen of his Regulators rushed upon the young scout. Crack! bang! went his revolvers, the ring of one shot being succeeded by another—the bullets reach- ing their mark with deadly accuracy. Down went one after another of the tors, and still the young Prince of the Pistol stood his ground, his lips set firm, his eyes . But this could not last. The crowd sided with the Regulators, and at an aveee from Roxly, they swarmed around the boy. and took him a prisoner. He was bound hand an foot and Bagged. Then they bore him back to that lonel Re “a where he had once before spent the i. Into this cabin he was rudely tumbled, and the key turned upon him, while Old Roxly and several of his men kept watch on the outside, bound to avert an escape this time. Let us return to the cave, where we left Wrestling has and his companions, Lightning Luke and Belle erome, The shadows of eve were just be oe ning to grow thick down in the gulch, when an exp oston ocnerred —a terrible shock that made the very mountain tremble. It was all over in a moment, and then our friends beheld, to their horror, what damage had been done. Huge rocks choked uP the entrance to the cavern, shu ry Sad light, and shutting in the three. * By heaven!” Wrestling Walt cried, as he gazed at his two companions—“ we’re done for now, sure. What! do you think—” “Thet it war the work o’ them from. They war ‘em off down the as we tuk the gal owerful mad, when we jounced ill, an’ swore bloody vengeance. So I giv’ ’em the credit 0’ this job. And I’m afeard,” he added, ‘* we can never remove these rocks, in ther Lord’s world, except by powder, and thet *d hardly . 9 fetch ’em—at least, thar ain’t enough in our crowd to budge ‘em an inch.” “*T don’t know about that. I’ve got a hundred and fifty cartridges, or over; and besid ides, héere’s half a pound of giant powder I found on the street, to-day. Pe «ean we might squeeze out a pound o’ the “Well, we can try; but thar’s no use o’ bein’ in a hurry. No doubt our enemies ‘Il keep an eye hyer- bouts, fer a day or so; an’ ef our plan should suc- ceed, they’d stand ready to salivate us when we cum out.”’ A couple of torches were ignited and thrust into niches in the wall, and their blaze lighted the cavern in every part. The fire, too, was replenished, and preparations made for a long sojourn in the rocky mountain priSon. , Luckily, Ransom baa just that morning killed a deer, which promised to furnish food for some days to come. After_a venison supper, all felt in more cheerful spirits, Belle, especially, brightening up wonderful- ly. She was vivacious, intelligent, good-hearted, and fairly educated, and made a very pleasant com- panion. After awhile all dropped myo and so remained until day-dawn, the morning light finding its way in through the few cracks in the entrance. That day passed slowly enough, and when night once again settled down over the mountain, the two men proceeded to work, resolved to effect an escape from their drear prison, at all hazards. Each carried a revolver. These were fully loaded then the remainder of their cartridges were open —two hundred, in all—and their contents mixed with the half a pound of giant powder that Walt had found, thereby making quite a oe A hole in the main rock that blocked the passage afforded a place for the charge, and it was rammed home with a will, for, should this fail, Walt knew A fuse connected with the powder, and after all was in readiness, and Belle had beenstationed at the rear of the cavern out of reach of harm, Ransom ae a burning brand from the fire, and lit the se! A few seconds would tell whether they were to be ae ¥. forever, until death came, live in this prison of rocks. No doubt Buffalo Ben would have been lynched im- mediately, had the matter been left to the Regulators, for he had slain or wounded several of them in that ht in the bar-room, ut the Government had lately planted a firm foot upon Deadwood soil, and enforced certain laws, mak ing it necessaryfor even the Regulators to give a pris- oner a hearing before the summary justice of hang- ing to the nearest tree. oward midnight the vicinity of the prison was de- serted, and, despite their bravest efforts, a feeling of apprehension attacked the guards; even Old Roxly | that they were doomed. | was not proof against it. ** What the de’il is ther matter wi’ me?” he —- ly. ‘‘Sumhow I feel as skeery as an old colt in -time.”’ Me Here comes somebody, an’ that’s a blessed thing,” sung out a Regulator. ‘“ Ef amule even ‘dcum ‘long, Bastian ang! a cage ‘ ootsteps, truly, were heard a roachin, ; though in the blackness of the night no plintpec id be obtained of the comer. It was evidently a woman, for the steps were light, quick, elastic. The Regulators of one accord cocked their revol- OTS. ” “Who comes thar?” hailed Roxly, gruffly. ‘ Who be ye, an’ what d’ye want?” “I’m a woman, so fear not!” replied a clear, sweet voice, and then a slight figure enveloped in a man’s army cloak stepped among the road-agent hun- ters. “Hello! a gal, by thunder!” the chief ejaculated, in apparent astonishment. ‘‘ Whatever fetched ye *way out here all alone by yerself, sweety?’ *“None of your insolence sir,” the girl replied, drawing herself up, haughtil - “Use no end epithets tome. Iam Major Fawdon’s ward, sir, an I come to beg of you to release Buffalo Ben, who of all men is ocent of association with the road- Se Smonty, thies, bet ‘t obleege rful pity ‘ , miss, but we can’t o) ye—o too fer Vm a widower, myself, an’ nary purtier gal did ever I see in thes ’ere country.” — ‘There you are again!” Stella cried, angrily. ‘ Please anstwer my questions, and avoid your ex- ie stag of admiration, Why won’t you release uffalo Ben?” ~ enuff ans’ered, ma’am. He’s a cuss as war caught in aidin’ Deadwood Dick, an’ thet made him a road-agent in our eyes, no matter ef he be ther big- _ preacher in the world. So we're goin’ ter hang m up ter dry in the mornin’! “Oh! no! no! you must not!” cried the young wo- man, beginning to - You must not!” “But we shall!” xly declared, grimly, “an’ all the snivelin’ an cat-waulin’ ye can crowd inter twenty- four hours o’ time won’t change our mind on’t. Why, gal, he salivated half o’ my crew up ter the Metropol- tan, right straight along, an’ laid some on ’em out fer a jerny along Salt river,” ‘Yes, [heard so,”’ was the faint reply, “and more’s the pity he didn’t finish you up at the same time!” This with intense bitterness of tone. Then she turned back toward Deadwood, and the Regulators were left to themselves. “TI was thinkin’! observed the chief, after they were once more alone—‘twhy not take the youn cuss out an’ hev ther satisfaction 0° swingin’ him a to ourselves? After he’s dead no one ‘ll trouble us about how he went off.”
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++ 10 “Good!” chimed in all of the men, eagerly, ‘ Let’s string him up, now.” It was evident they were anxious to have the job done with. ‘* Well, so be it, then,” assented Roxly, a murder- ous light in his eyes. “Get a rope some 0° you. Hyer’s a tree right handy. Fetch out the rascal.” he cabin door was burst open, and Buffalo Ben was dragged out into the night. In under the tree that was to be his gallows, he was made to stand erect while the noose was adjusted about his neck. CHAPTER XI. A COMPACT—BETRAYED—PERIL, UNLIKE most men, J. Aaron Wadsworth cared lit- tle for name or high position; he never participated or took ‘nerest in politics, and had few friends and little influence among his fellow-men, except what he chose to purchase with his wealth. Not a relative had -he in the wide world, near enough of kin to fall heir to his possessions, should he succeed in effectually removing these children of the woman whose very memory he hated. “ And I will remove them,” this human fiend resolv- ed, “and also this girl whom Fawdon is trying to palm off on tome I'll have her put aside, first, and hen hunt up the others. Bill Burk is the man to do the job, and I think I can now trust the fellow.” And the millionaire left the hotelin search of Burk —Lucifer in search of Satan. He first visited the Tabernacle, and scanned the sea of faces here, but the giant ruffian was not there. The ‘* Metropolitan ’’ was next entered, with like re- sult, “These sheba are almost too high-toned for Bili,” he muttered. “ Something of a still lower or- der would better suit his tastes. Hello! here’s the Fae Bucket.’ That savors more of finding him,” and pie this, the vilest den in Deadwood, went the searcher. Sure enough he found Burk, sitting at a beer table in a drunken sleep and looking as if he had been through any amount of bar-room trouble. No doubt he had been making free use of the money he had lately received for his murderous job, six- teen years ago. “Hey! wake up!’ Wadsworth exclaimed, shaking him by the shoulder, roughly. ‘*‘ What are you doing here?’ “ What's the matter wi’ you?” wled the ruffian, glaring about savagely, his bloodshot eyes half swol- en shut, and his face flushed and bloated. ‘* What dye want?” ‘How much money have you left?’ demanded Wadsworth, feeling his way carefully. ‘*Nary a copper!’’ Burk grunted, rather sorrow- fully. * Reckon I bought tarantler fer the most part oO’ e my “Do you want more?” “On course Ido! Goin’ ter fork over a couple 0’ thousan’? and out reached the ruffian’s hands, eager to clutch the money. “Ne you dox’t,” Wadsworth said, with provok- ing coolness. ‘If you want more — you've got to work for it; dc you hear? Not another farthing will Lever give you till you do a certain job for me, and do it thoroughly, too.” Burk stared in a drunken way; shut u that he would not behold two J. Aaron standing before him, instead of one. “Some more dirty work ye want ter git onter my hands, eh?’’ he questioned, sleepily. “More bloody work!’ the millionaire corrected with a heartless laugh. Then he ordered a bottle of stiff brandy, and a couple of glasses, “Help yourself, Wil , while we talk business,” he said, seating himself opposite the ruffian. ** Noth- angi a little dampness added to a transaction.” i one eye so adsworths nd Bill Burk was not slow to help himself, pour- out a brimming glass of the raw poison, and 3 ping it down in a draught. Then he stared at adsworth, waiting for him to proceed. The millionaire was drumming on the table in a thoughtful manner, his brows knitted together in a dark scowl. 7 “Tt’s another woman I want put out of the way,” he said, at last, addressing his blear-eyed auditor, “an’ I want you to do the job.” ‘ wm I’m agreeable, pervidin’ thar’s any money n it.’ “Of course, I'll pay you, but you must frst get rid of the girl. Dll give you a thousand dollars to put her six feet under ground. Fair, ain't it?” “Git out! Two thousan’ ‘d hardly be decent offer,’ the -ruffian: growled. ‘Sides, ye’IT hev ter cum down wi’ yer rhino afore I'll lift a finger.” “Then [ll give the job to some other tough,” Wadsworth declared, decidedly, while he ea feint to rise. ‘*There’s plenty of desperate cusses who. will jump at the chance.” ** Just hold yer hosses!’’ Burk said, eagerly, ‘Tl take the job at a thousan’, an’ ye can me after the gal's a corpuss. Whar 've I got ter steer ter find her?”’ “Not out of Deadwood. She is here, stopping at the same hotel I do. Her name is Stella. You see, Major Fawdon has set her up as one of my wife’s a a a heir to my estates; so I want to remove er.’ “Major Fawdon?” “Yes; do you know se of the fellow?” and the inquirer grew excited. “Not much. Met him up in Helena four years ro ago, when his company war stationed there. “Used | should lay down for the night Ww | awake, for it was not polic | ter take a smile wi’ him, occasionally; that’s all.” “And enough, too. It accounts for his know- ledge of this heirship business; he then laid his plans.”’ “The galis—” De ee ee ee ee eee ee ee ee. Se a eee ee ee. eee ro . Beadle’s HalfDime Library. “His sister, no doubt. But I want her buried, however. After you’ve done with the job, call on me for your pay. Mind, though, I am in ed way to be mentioned in connection with the air. “O’ course not, Mister Wadsworth. Sail ahead, an’ be a-countin’ out yer rhino, fer I shall be along soon.’ Then the monster took his departure, congratulat- ing himself on his success thus far, That_night while Stella was returning from her midnight visit to the cabin prison of Buffalo Ben, she suddenly found herself confronted by the ay form of a man, in a gloomy portion of the gulc road. She could see nothing of his face for the intense darkness, but in stature he was a very giant. “Slow up, ma’am!”? was the rough salutation, and Stella trembled with fear and apprehension, ‘* Bein’t ye Stella Fawdon, eh? w’at Buffler Ben be shinin’ up to?’ “Why do you ask, sir? What right have you to stop a woman in this manner? Let me - “Oh! no, ye don’t do noffin o’ the kind. I axed ye a fair question, didn’t I? an’ now ye've Bs ter give me a fair ans’er: durn my head & e hain’t.” “Yes, Tam Stella, so let me go; I'mina hurry!” “Ye aire, aire ye? Waal, now,I ain’t; so just be aisy ef ye can. I ain't goin’ ter hurta ha’ro’ yer purty ate; but, after ye ans’er me a few questions, ‘m goin’ ter take ye straight to Buffler Ben, who wants to see ye.” *“* What! do you come from him?” “Reckon I don’t come frum no one else, ef I know oe “But, Ben is imprisoned in a cabin, back here, and guarded by Regulators.” “He war, you mean to say. But he ain’t now, though ther sgulators don’t know nothin’ about his “Then he has really escaped?” “Bet yer life, an’ I’m ther ae individual as helped him out o’ his little deeficulty.”’ “Oh! then I thank you so much!’ Stella cried, joyfully. “ I was afraid it was all up with him.” ‘Yas, et looked purty squally, War you just down ter ther cabin?” = did ye see ther Regulators?” ae “ Purty ced set 0’ coons, hey? Durn ’em, they nigh about put a punctuation p'int inter me, w’en I helped Ben out o’ ther chimbley. Want ter go an’ see ther boyee, ma’am?”’ “Yes, if you will take me to him,” Stella pee, eagerly, and without ashadow of suspicion, “ Where ie?" “Not fur, miss; you just foller me, an’ we'll soon come ter whar he’s hidin’.” “Then he is a fugitive?’ “Reckon so; ‘Il hev ter fight mighty shy, after salivatin’ them * So saying, the giant led the way into a dark, deep ravine, that branched off from the main gulch. The path was rough and tortuous, and it was with some misgiving that the girl followed. Fully two miles were traveled in silence—it seemed ten instead of two to Stella—when the guide paused, = wees abruptly about, a cocked revolver in his and. “Thar, miss!” he said, with a brutal laugh, “we've gone fur enough, Buffalo Ben ain’t here— probably never was.” * What / Stella gasped, in horror. ‘* You—” ‘* Hev fooled you nicely!” finished Bill Burk, with “T fetched you out hyer out o’ -ter blow yer brains How do that * a hoarse laugh. sight an’ hearin’, an’ am a-goin out, an’ put ye six feet under groun’, fit yer ijees, my pretty?” There were a few seconds of breathless suspense to those in the little mountain cave, as the fuse slow- ly burned nearer and nearer to the powder; then came a blinding flash, a tremendous report and shock, and outof the mouth of the e shot the eg bowlder, and down the declivitous mountain ae, All ran to the entrance, through the growing dark- ness, and watched the t mass of stone in its mad flight. Down! down! down it bounded in giant leaps, pausing at nothing, but crushing all in its path. _ Po below, in its course, stood a miner's frame shonty. “By heaven! it’s good-by to that caboose!” Walt cried, and in the next breath the stone monster struck the obstacle with irresistible fury, literally overwhelming it. Fortunately, the miner was ab- sent. The cave was a pice no longer, and the three ar- ranged at once to leave the place for one of ter safety, but first resolved to hunt up Buffalo Ben, in deference to the girl’s eager wishes, So Luke — a repast in short order out of the juicy flesh of the deer. Then Drayton. made ready to descend the mountain into Deadwood, whose twinkling lights were visible far below. “Keep shady, and let no one in here, ‘less they give my signa!, which shall be—’ and here the wrestler lowered his voice—“ two hoots of an owl.” “All right,” replied Ransom, “go ‘long wi’ yer ge , an’ come back as soon as you can.” n then took his departure, and Luke and Belle were left alone in the cave. After a little while Luke sed that Belle ile he remained to leave the cave un- guarded. She did so, and, after Cid J up the fire, Luke took a seat near it, and relaps into a deep reverie. But he was soon aroused by the sharp report of a ecently piztoh and a bullet whizzed unpleasantly near to his ead, Enemies were upon them! ’ CHAPTER XII. ROAD-AGENTS TO THE RESCUE “Youne feller, hev yer sed_yer prayers?” Old Roxly asked, as he adjusted the noose about. the neck of Buffalo Ben, ‘fer ef you hain’t I'd advise ou to be sayin’ em, instanter, fer we're a-goin’ ter rot ye before yer Master, at er rattlin’ pace. Ye hev five minnits, yit; improve ‘em best ye kin.” Jerome had never been brought up religiously; from early childhood his lot had been cast among a rough, unbeliev set, who paid but little h to either the laws of God or man. Still, he had picked up some education—learnt that there was an All-wise Ruler, to whom the sinful and wicked must at last look for salvation; he had, from his sister Belle, learned a ye little prayer, and this he now silent- ly offered to heaven—not for the power to escape, pow Aas. God might have mercy on his erring, sinful soul. Then he looked up, a fearless expression upon his face. He could not for the gag that was fastened in his mouth, but the flash of his eyes spoke his defiance. “Waal, aire ye ready?’ demanded the chief, ea- ger to proceed with the execution, “Git reddy, b’yees!” the Regulator cried, and the other end of the rope was swung over a limb, and seized by a dozen hands. Itdrew tight about Ben’s neck, and he realized that he was about to be sent into eternity. “All right. Go ahead—one! two! three! heave O!” cried Roxly; then there was a corresponding cry from the Regulators, and the young scout was the next instant dangling in mid-air. But, it was on- ly oo an meen +e" maiehiial ge ut upon the still night air rung the sharp of a number of rifles; the rope was severed et ton dropped to the earth again; while at the same time three of the would-be executioners fell dead in their _ tracks. Then came wild shouts as a score of horsemen, headed by the terrible Black Rider, whose very name was aterror in the town of Deadwood, came a up with drawn revolvers. Crack! crack! went these deadliest of small wea- pons, the firing coming from both road-agents and gulators. “At them, Night-Hawks!” rung out the order of Deadwood Dick, as he fired right and left—‘‘ at them, and don’t let a mother’s son escape. Treachery merits death, an’ we'll give it to ’em! And fiercely waged the battle; but, though the 4 posing party ee like devils, they rapidly weak:- ened, and at last Old Roxly L gv the order to scatter, And scatter they did, and took back into Dead- wood a tale of horror—a shock that aroused the populace to a pitch of frenzy, nearly bordering on madness. Buffalo Ben, upon falling to the ground, found that the thongs about his ankles had broken, and his lower extremities were free. Fora moment he did not know how to act, but when the road-agents dashed up he Jeaped away into the darkness, and struck out blindly. Ben had no idea where to strike for, in the dense blackness of the night. He well knew it would be unsafe to show himself in Deadwood right away, after shooting the Regula- tors, as well as having the brand of a road-agent up- on head. No, he must hide somewhere in the surrounding hills, and allow the matter to blow over. With this determination he started off, cautious- ly, now and then pausing to listen to the sounds of 1e battle of the road-agents and the ators. “Humph! Deadwood Dick don’t bear them fellows no love,’ he muttered. ‘He's got a grudge against ae an’ he’s bound to wipe it all out, sooner or ter.” Ben worked his way carefully along through the ch, going from instead of toward Deadwood. He cept on the alert, and yet despite this caution he ran plump up against a horse, which was standing like an immovable statue in his path—a large, ag erful gray animal, upon whose back was mounted a woman, young and beautiful, as was evident at a lance. . It was also apparent that the strange fider had halted in this lonely spot to listen to the firing that came from the neighborhood of the old._cabin. Ben leaped back with a grunt, inaudible on account of the gag still in his mouth. The ban OE pg hn held a gleaming revolver in _ right hand, and its muzzle pointed toward his e “Who are you?” she demanded, suspiciously. Of course he could not reply, All he could do was step closer, in hopes that his interlocutor would dis- cover his predicament. “Come!” she said, sternly, “ain't you going to an- swer me?” Then, as she leaned forward, she saw that he was ed, and his hands bound securely behind his ack. “Ha! you can’t speak, eh?’ she exclaimed; “I thought you were trying me.” : She drew a long litterin knife from the silken sash that encircled her waist, and applied its keen edge to the gag:string. t fell to the ground, and Ben was free to speak, once more, “Thank you!” he said, gratefully. ‘You may al- so free my arms, if you yy “ But I don’t please yet,” was the cool reply. * Your tongue cannot do me any personal injury— with your hands it might be different.” “Oh! you need not fear. I am not a bloodthirsty
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Buffalo Ben. ; 1l savage!’’ and Ben laughed. “I’d be a miserable cuss, indeed, to attack a friend, and that friend a woman.” ‘““Maybe I ain’t your friend, now, so don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched!” was the calm advice. ‘‘ What is your handle, stranger?” “Buffalo Benjamin Jerome!” the scout replied, dryly. ** And yours—” , ‘ i Leone Harris. Iam the wife of Deadwood ick!" “Phew!’? This was astonishing news for Ben. “* Deadwood Dick's wife, eh?” nie Yes, sir. Iam led to understand that you know im?’ “Oh! yes, slightly,” Ben couldn’t say if he was proud of the acquaintance, ornot. “He has done me several good turns.” “So? I heard him mention your name. Is he in that fight, down there, now?’ “He was, when I sloped; for, you see, the Regula- tors were going to string me up, when he and his fellers came along. I was unarmed, so I concluded it was best to make myself seldom around there. But, I want you to tell meone thing: How did Dick <a from the cabin, last night?’ “Thelped him. With part of the band I captured the Regulators, and bound them. One of the men went down the chimney, into the cabin, then, and cut your bonds. Dick and he came out, then; Dick said let the rest of you remain in there, for he had a plan for your rescue. But as it happened, you all escaped ere he could put his plan into execution.” The firing had now patent’ it was at this period that the Regulators had made a rush and escaped. “Tl cut your arms free,” said Leone, ‘‘ and then go and join my husband, He does not know that I followed him.” : She suited action to the word, and then Ben was once more entirely free. “T ain’t got etin my power ter thank you, enough!”’ he said, humbly. “No thanks are required, sir,’ the young wife of Deadwood Dick replied. “To a friend it is always friendship, with us; to an enemy, always hatred!” “T believe ye. Love and hate ar’ two passions thet rule strongest among the population of the Black Hills.” Leone bowed, and was about to guide her horse on down the gulch, when she seemed to recollect something. ‘Will you see my husband?” she asked. “Dunno; mebbe, an’ mebbe not,’’ Ben replied, re- membering that he should have to keep shady. “Why?” ‘‘Because. Your act at the Metropolitan has made ou an outlaw, You will not dare to show yourself, Vould you not like to become a road-agent?”’ ‘No, siree!’? was the emphatic answer. ‘That ain't my cast o’ jib, at all;ma’am. Ef I’m an out- law, it’s on my own hook, an’ T’ll look out fer num- ber one.” “Very well, I'll not u you, though I think you would be benefited. If, however, you should want to see Deadwood Dick, at any time, or need any as- sistance, apply to the party whose directions you will find on this.” She handed him a card; then put spurs to her horse and dashed down the gulch toward the old cabin, Buffalo Ben following her with his eyes until she was lost in the dense gloom of the t. ‘‘ A strange couple—this Deadwood Dick and his wife,” he muttered. ‘“ What pleasure there can be in this hunted life, is beyond my comprehension.” He glanced at the card, but it was too dark for him to decipher what was written thereon. So he thrust it iato an inside pocket of his hunting-shirt and continued on his course down the gulch. He met several miners coming in from some neighbor- ing claim, but took care not to let them see him; for in the Black Hills after nightfall each man sus- pects the other of being a cutthroat. He had not gone far before he became aware that ople were in the gulch ahead of him. He could ear their footste Two at least, he decided, as he was able to distinguish the footfalls. “7 wonder who can be out here so late? ’Pears to me it don’t look just square. Hallo! they’ve turned off into this ravine. Durned spookerish sort 0’ a place, an’ thet’s what’s queer about et. S*posen I war ter foller—what then? "‘Twouldn’t bether furst time Ben Jerdme’s trod a trail.” : He quickened his footsteps so that he might get hearer to the midnight pedestrians, but he at the same time doubled his caution. As the horror of her situation fully dawned upon the mind of Stella Wadsworth, she gave vent to a piercing shriek, that startled the mountain echoes, and then she turned to flee. But in au instant she was in the iron grasp of her merciless betrayer,. “No ye don't, my pretty bird!” he chuckled, hold- her as easily as he would have held a child. +© ain’t a-goin’ ter escape, nor nothin’ like et,” “Let me go, you horrible man!” Stella cried, trem- bling with affright. “Let me return to Deadwood,” and she burst into tears and sobs. : Oh! what have I ever done to you that you should want to injure me?’ she moaned. ‘Only let me in, “ “Ye never did enn: ter me, my daisy,” the ruffian said, “ never roy much as looked cross- eyed at me, ‘Ter thet I'll make affydavit.” . Then why do you threaten me? Why did you bring me pgs Bill Burk leaned against a d reflected a mo- ment. Why could he not hoon ta die pert for himself, and tell Aaron Wadsworth that she was dead? He would never know, J “Tl tell ye,” he said, glaneing sharply around him. “I’ve made up mind not to murder you, as I war hired ter do, but, instead, keep you fer myself. I'll take ye ter an old hut I know on back hyer in the Hills, an’ ye shall become Mrs. Bill Burk, jes ‘es soon as [canrun down a gospel-sling- er. tsay you?” Stella put up her hands in horror. “Oh! me, then, a thousand times, rather than force me to submit to such a fate!” “Gently, gal; don’t go fer ter rile me, fer I’m a double-j’Inted cuss when I’m riled. I ain't a-goin’ ter killye, nor nothin’ of ther sort. I’m jest in need o° a purty wife, and you'll fit like a charm. So cum ‘long wi’ ye, afore I hurt ye.” And, seizing her roughly by the wrist, the ruffian continued on up the ravine, dragging her after him. But not a great way did he go ere he was compelled to halt, for, scream after scream from the terrified girl’s lips awoke the mountain echoes, and he was alarmed lest they might attract attention. ‘Curses on ye!” he hissed, in a rage. “T'll stop thet yowlin’;” and his knotted hand struck her a vi- olent blow upon the forehead. As he had intended, it produced insensibility; then catching her up in his arms he hastened on up the gulch, his fears now all aroused, Miners were everywhere in the hills, and already more than one might be on his trail. But Buffalo Ben was the only pursuer. He had heard the screams and rightly judging that there was foul play, he rushed on to investigate, not even using precaution to silence. He saw the pene speeding on Meg - Ree ge strides, and yet held him persistent- y in view. “Hold up, thar, you devil!” cried the ruffian, at last coming to a halt on the very brink of a yawning abyss—‘‘hold up! or by the Lord Harry, I'll make wolf-food outen ye!” And a revolver’s click! click! sounded plainly, showing that Bill Burk was going to die game. Of course Buffalo Ben halted; he was weapon] and what could he do against an armed “tough?” CHAPTER XII. CALAMITY JANE—DEFENSE. ““Now, hold yer hosses steddy!"’ cried the ruffian, as he became aware that Ben had sto . “Ef ye cum a step closer, I'll throw this over into the abyss in front o’ me; for as I fetched her out hyer ter murder her, this ar’ the boss place!” Ben aned in an agony of spirit, powerless to rescue the captive woman; he must turn back and leave her to the ruffian’s mercy. But, hark!—a pistol-shot rung out on the air. There was a yell of mortal agony, fierce and terrible; then the t ruffian went down to the und, an ugly bullet-hole in his temple. He earried poor, in- sensible Stella with him, but she received no injury aside from a slight shock, of which she was uncon- scious. Ben rushed forward to the where death had reached for gazed at the lifeless corse; then he gathered a few dry twigs and ignited them into a blaze, that he might better view his surroundings. n either side the rugged walls rose to a stu- pendous hight, their summits crowned with spectral ines; ahead yawned a dark, awful ab whose ttom was hundreds of feet below; behind ran the gulch-ravine, in a serpentine course, the route over which Ben had come. The night’s darkness was, it seemed, doubly intense here in this isolated spot, and the scout shuddered as he gave a glance down into the fathomless depths of the abyss, on whose very brink Bill Burke had fallen in death. ” phi that is a horrible place!” he muttered; and, drawing back, he turned his attention to the ruffian and his captive. A ery of astonishment and horror escai S lips as he beheld the girl. “By heaven! it is Stella!’ and the next instant the golden-haired scout was kneeling beside her, an ex- ression of alarm upon his face. ‘Oh! can it be hat she is dead? o! thank God, her heart still beats, and she lives! A blow here upon her forehead has rendered her senseless.” Close at hand water hay ee from a crevice in the ledge of rocks. Filling his hat Ben dashed. it liber- ally into the girl’s face, then he bathed her forehead and wet her lips with liquor from the girdle-flask of the dead ruffian. The effect was ual, yet cer- tain, and in a few moments Stella gave a convulsive shiver, and opened her eyes. For amoment she seemed dazed and bewildered; then she rose to her feet, and Ben supported her in his strong young arms. “Thank heaven, I have escaped!” Stella murmur- ed, with a terrified Pig at the prostrate ruffian. “Who killed him? -What—you here, Mr. Jerome?” “T was Soming out into the hills to escape Dead- wood justice, when I overheard your screams, and gave chase,” explained Ben. ‘ As to who killed that tough, I am in entire ignorance. The shot, however, cum along just in time, for I believe the cuss intend- ed to throw ye over into that hole.” “But, how came you here? I thought you were imprisoned in the old cabin. I was there, and tried to coax Roxly to release you, but it was no use.” t The ruffian lay A moment he ‘Deadwood Dick liberated me. The Regulators took me out, and were going to hang me, after you left, when along came Dick, with his road-agents, and shot me down, an’ then bounced the ators. Of course I sloped, for I ain’t safe to be seen in Deadwood, now. I met Dick’s wife on ther way, an’ she cut my bonds and gag. How did you come to be in this tough’s power?” “ He stopped me when T was returning from the cabin-prison,” exelaimed Stella, shuddering as she gazed at the stiffening corpse. “ He told me you had sent him for me—that you were free, and he-would conduct me to you. Of course I came, under the cir- cumstances. Back yonder, when first screamed, he told me he had brought me out here to murder me!” Ben stared at the ground, thoughtfully, for a few moments, ‘““There is some underhand game hyer!” he said, his brows knitting lex . “Who could have such a Spite agai Joe as to seek your life?” “Ah! Tcannot tell. I know of not an enemy on saa was the reply. ‘‘ Come, let us return to Dead- wood, ‘*No!” Ben shook his head quickly. “‘I am brand- ed as_an outlaw, and it means death to go back now. I shall have to wait a few weeks, till things cool off.”’ ‘“No need of that!” Stella declared, confidently, and she drew from the pocket of her dress a package done up in brown paper. “Here I have a disguise that I procured for you, which will effectually hide Buffalo Ben from the world.” And undoing it, she held up to view a mustache, beard, and wig, all of a dark-brown color. ““Just the thing!** was Ben's appreciative com- ment, and he proceeded to don them, thereb thoroughly disguising himself. ‘Now, I reckon, ain't afeard ter go back ter Deadwood, an’ face ther music.” But after a short consultation it was decided by Ben that they should remain where they were until the following afternoon. This would give a chance for the excitement to partially blow over, and there would be less danger of detection. Accordingly, preparations were made for the short sojourn, After securing the arms of the lifeless Bill Burk, Ben pitched the body over into the abyss, and it went down! down! down! forever out of the sight of man; then he went to work, and built a rousing fire, that lit up the camp with a cheery glow, and a genial warmth soon pervaded the chill air. “Td ruther camp out, any time, when thar’s lots of wood, water, deer-meat, and hostile Ingers on the tow,” observed Ben, seating himself near the blaze, “A bunk o’ deer’s hind leg wouldn't come amiss, just about now, considerin’ as I hain’t partook o’ any stummick nourishment, lately.” “Well, pilgrim, supposin’* we sharpen our teeth on a little, then!” proposed a cheery voice, and loo around, our friends beheld, to their astonishment, a young individual standing close by, he evidently aving descended a rope which ran up the face of the ravine valle a ledge above and was there fast- ened to a rocky spur. A dashing-looking person, with smooth face, black, flashing eyes, lo hair; and attired in a faultless suit of buck-skin, wi dainty moccasins, and a slouch sombrero, cocked upon one side of the head. “Hello!” exclaimed Buffalo Ben, and also ejacu- lated Stella, for both had seen and heard of the per- conan who had so unceremoniously descended into their little camp. _‘* Calamity Jane, as I live!’ **Reckon ‘tis, pilgrim!” and this wonderful girl in man’s garb came forward, extending a hand to each of the two campers. “Didn't spect to see me, did you?” and she gave vent to a strange laugh, really enlivening to hear. ‘Waal, no. Last I heerd o’ you, they bad you at ‘Shian fer pickin’ pockets!” was Ben’s matter-of-fact r nse. “That report was a big lie!’’ Jane asserted. “I hevn’t bin outside the hills, “cept over ter Bozeman, in a year. "Twas another cuss o’ a gal that the Cheyenne constables nabbed.” “Did you shoot the man who was carrying me off, awhile ago?”’ Stella asked. “Yes; ruther jedge I knocked sev’ral years out o° his callendar,” replied the girl, nodding. “War u above, an’ see’d as he meant ter annihilate ye; so put a fly in his ear.” **And done me a service,” said Ben, “Iwas un- armed, and like’s not, the devil would ‘a’ slung her over, but for your timely bullet.” After an hour more of desultory conversation, Jane produced a piece of uncooked venison from an oil- cloth blanket, which was slung to her back, and it was broiled over the glowing coals, furnishing when font a palatable repast, to which the trio did full stice. Then Calamity volunteered to stand guard while Ben and Stella sought slumber and rest, which ar- rangement bein, rfected, the two lay down on sep- arate couches of leaves, and dropped off into sweet repose. en relieved Calamity a short time before day- break, but she was not sleepy, she said, so did not lie down. They remained in camp through the day, and started, about sunset, for Deadwood, at which place they arrived soon after dusk. Stella was left at her hotel; then Ben and Calamity sauntered around to the “Tabernacle,” and then to the “ Met,” to see what was going on. But, all was quiet, save such little occurrences as fights or quarrels, the larger class of which rarely attract attention among the crowd. Calamity sat down at one of the tables, but Ben continued to saunter around, A commotion at one end of the saloon attracted him, and going thither, he beheld a crowd of roughs gathered threateningly around a single man, It took but a glance to recognize that eccentric individual from Potato Guich—“ the me-e-owing | Thomas_K. Cat”—the tonguey and ludicrously homely Rattlesnake. But, for a wonder, the old fellow was not so tonguey, now. He stood with his back against the table; his face was an enigma to study, with its bushy red beard and variety of expression; its firm- ly set lips and flashing black orbs; then, too, the gleaming cocked revolver in either hand, ready for Instant use, showed that he was at bay—a danger- ous man to deal with. The roughs around him also held weapons drawn; their faces, mirrors of their
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12 evil hearts, were stern and determined in expression. Plain it was that there was business ahead; be neither the roughs nor the miner moved to do bat- tle—it was a war of Sa Ben glanced over shoulder, and saw that Ca- lamity Jane had followed close behind him. Then Ben pushed ah his own—or rather Bill Burk’s—revolvers out and cocked, ready for use. Straight through the crowd he elbowed, Calamity faithfully at his side, and put his back to the table, alongside the besieged miner. Things didn’t look quite so bad for Old Rattlesnake, just then. The uninvited bullet that buzzed so close to the shagey head of Lightning Luke, announced that a crisis was at hand. “'Thunder!”’ mildly ejaculated the hunter; as he kicked aside the eae fire, and seized Belle, who had been aroused a oe posture. He at once dragged her unceremoniously to the rear of the cave, and Tinked her behind a bowlder. The hunter also crouched low behind its shelter, and both he and his fair charge listened. _ No sound came from'the front; *way out through the entrance was visible a countless number of twinkling lights, which came from the hill on the op- posite side of Deadwood gulch. “Do you think it was Silver Sal or St. Elmo, who fired the shot?”’ Belle asked, concernedly. “© course *twar one o’ their salutes!” Luke re- plied, his revolver conveniently leveled over the top of the protecting bowlder. *O’ course et war! Durn their ornery pictures, they cum nigh a-sendin’ in my statistics, they did! Lucky I warn’t asleep, or they’d’a’ lambasted me, sure.” “The bullet nearly hit you, then?” “Cum wi'in ther width uv an old maid’s lip o’ it, blarsted ef et didn’t! "Sh—!” Bang! went the hunter’s revolver, and so sudden was the report that Befle jumped in alarm. “ What is the matter?. Why did you fire?” “Because I see’d suthin’ ter aim at. Harkee! d’ye hear thet?”’ : A series of groans emanated from near the mouth of the cavern. ‘You have killed some one!” “Not much;—wouldn’t hear that much squeaking ef ther anymile’s dead.” The groans finally ceased; either the victim was dead or insensible, or had so far recovered as to crawl away. “Do you see anything?” Belle asked, growing nervous and fidgety, at the hunter’s deep silence. ** Ah! what was that?” ; A noise it was, coming from within the cavern near the entrance—a noise as if some one had dis- _turbed a loosened stone with their foot. ‘“Some one’s got inside, arfter all,” said_ Luke, -ranging his gaze around through the gloom. ‘* More’s likely it is a dozen *stead 0’ one—”’ Bang! bang! went his revolver at this instant, for his keen eye had caught a glimpse of a moving shadow, and sight was to fire, with him. There was a sharp, piercing, feminine shriek; then all was still. CHAPTER XIV. THE CONFLICT. No, it did not look quite so bad for Old Rattle- snake, when two such wild, venturesome spirits as Buffalo Ben and Calamity Jane sided in with him; and it looked still more as if the roughs might have their hands full, when still another figure pushed through the crowd, and ranged his six-shooter on the defensive—the handsome, stalwart wrestler, Walt Drayton, who, a into the saloon, an taking in the situation at a glance, had wey. vol- unteered his services. It was only after he was among the defenders, that the miner gave vent to his views of the affair in words, where hitherto he had remained silent. coor “Whoop ’em up, Eliza Jane!” was his initiatory ejaculation, while a grin of admiration for his points ot defense, distorted his red-bewhiskered features. “ Blushin’est 0’ primroses, w’ar art thou, now? Oh! cum erlong, ye ornery galoots, ef thar’s any fun in ye; prance rite up hyer, an’ stomp on the east eend o’ our durned tails will ye, an’ see’f we won’t me-e- ow wuss nor any Thomas K. Cats ye ever did see? Oh! cavortin’ lambs an’ bellerin’ buffleroes! wh don’t ye pitch inter us ef yer want musick, an’ lic a hull’consterlashun o’ stars out o’ us? We’re ther kind 0’ meat ye’re s’archin’ fer, so jist sail in, ther downright han’sumest ye "now how!’ ““Yes—cum along ef ye’re in a hurry ter lore the mysteries o’ purgatory!” cried Calamity Jane, fearlessly, while the ooks of Buffalo Ben and Wrest- ling Walt were as good as a guarantee that they were prepared, if not eager to take a hand in the im- pending affray. But for some cause the roughs held aloof. Either they were Mw Be 7 for Rattlesnake to strike first, or were fearful of the consequences resulting from an open attack. Certain it was that the Md wa party were a powerful quartette, in themselves, a fact which did not escape the eyes of the toughs. In the interval Ben took opportunity to ascertain the cause of the trouble. ; “What is the jig, anyhow?” he asked, watching narrowly the sea of scowling faces, just opposite. “Matter?” grunted the miner, with a tremendous yawn—‘ why, ye see, I’ve got a sartin twenty-ounce nuggit, an’ thse durned galoots affirm it’s my duty ter tell °em whar I got it, which I don’t allow ar’ reeson’ble; wharfore, I purpose ter say I shan’t tell *em, an’ they agree ter make a fust-class funeral out o’ me ef I don’t unload, w'ich I won't, ef I get knock- Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. ed inter ther middle o’ day behind ter-morrer. That’s my caliber; so cum rite elong, ye durn ornery, er ole oa knock-’need sons 0’ pot-’ras ? One of the “ toughs ’’ now spoke: “Tt’s no use 0° you’re *us enny o’ yer cast- away slang, old hoss, fer ” *t goin’ ter do ye ther least bit o’ good, In ther name o’ ther law an’ civil hts o’ ther con: hin’, we demand ter know where ye got thet big nuggit frum?” ““An’in ther name o’ nate Gabriel, trumpet an’ all, I sw’ar I'll chaw my old dirty shirt fer os aetna afore I'll tell ye!” was the startling announcement of the miner. “Hurra!” applauded Calamity Jane, and the shout was taken up by a dozen or more sympathizing miners, who instantly pushed through to our friend’s rescue, The toughs could no Jonges repress their desire for combat; besides, they saw that re-enforcements were being constantly added to the enemy’s line. Hank Hurley, the ruffian leader, saw this, and a fierce oath escaped his lips. “Aire ye goin’ ter squeal out w’at we want ter know?” he demanded, hoarsely. *““NO!” yelled the miner, with emphasis, “‘ never / Ye kin baptize me in Salt River; ye kin scorch off ther soles 0’ my feet; ye kin call me a squallin’ Thomas K. Cat, an’ even stomp on my tail, an’ heer me me-e-ow; te kin do all this—an’ more—but may I be eat up by Canadabulls, ef I tell whar frum cometh this nugget o’ ariferous!”’ “Then you're a dead man!” was the reply, and quickly the outlaw raised his revolver, and fired straight at the miner’s breast. But, not yet on the death-roll was he from the sa- cred precincts of Potato Gulch. Stagger he could not help, for the ball tore through a fleshy part of his side, making a painful wound; but what cared he for such a trifling scratch. In his years of life he had received many a tough encounter with leaden death; still he lived; and now he leaped forward to- ward his enemies. ing his backers after him. * Cum erlong, daisies, an’ we'll make these barkin’ coyotes hunt their howtel in less time ’n it takes May ter chase December round ther north pole. Hurra! cock-a-doodle-doo-o-0! sweep ther varmin’ frum ther face o’ Terence Firma! Banish ’em as St. Patrick O’Hoolahan banished ther toadstools frum Connettyeut! Oh! Eliza Jane, show us yer caliber, now, ef ever ye did!” And “ Eliza’s caliber’? appeared to be somewhat immense, for, right and left swung the miner’s her- culean arms, and his revolvers flashed incessantly, never a bullet missing its mark; while down went the ruffians, thick and fast, under the destructive fire of those few brave and dauntless spirits, who had vol- unteered their aid. Yet the ruffians fought like devils, bound to win the victory, and there is no telling but what they might-have succeeded, had not, whem the tide was just about on the turning point, a wild, blood-curd- = yell of eldritch laughter rung loudly and echoed and re-echoed through the great saloon—a yell that was known to nearly every ear—the terrible token of the presence of Deadw Dick! No one knew whence came the laugh of the young road-agent; there was no time for conjecture, in the din of the raging conflict; yet, certain it was that in deep disguise Deadwood Dick stood within the walls of the Metropolitan, and this very thought added strength and vigor to our little band, and inch by inch they drove back the roughs, continuing the d fire, until but half a dozen of the original crowd was left; and with howls of rage, they turned and fled, leaving Old Rattlesnake and the others vic- tors of the bloody ground. Four of the volunteers had been killed, and all more or less wounded. Buffalo Ben was severely wounded in the legs, which rendered him unfit to walk. He had fallen a Ae dead and dying, ae as the defeated toughs t an ignominious re- reat. During the conflict he had been lucky enough to keep on his false wigand beard. And that prevented his being recognized by the miners, who crowded around, Calamity Jane, however, was in the secret of his disguise, and she knew with a woman’s instinct that — he must be removed, before discovery of his identi- ty was made. ‘*Do you know Buffalo Ben?” she said, addressing the Potato-gulchian, in an undertone, careful not to let the words reach other ears. “‘ Do you know him?” I!” quoth the original ‘‘ Thomas K. Cat,” with a stare. **Reckon so! Gay sey ig is thet same Ben- jam-in. Oh! primroses, guess I know him; socked eternity inter a passel o’ Reg’laters, as han’sum as ever I see’d t’other evenin’.”’ “Por which same job he is uired ter amble about in disguise,’’ announced Calamity. ‘’Sh! don’t make a noise. See! thar he lays, now, plugged full o’ metal pills—him as wears the beard and mousetach. Come! we must git him out o’ here. Where shall we take him?” ‘*Next door but one!’’ decided the miner, quickly, and Calamity noticed that a strange change came over his manner of speech. “Here! you wrestler, help me a hand!” And poor Ben was raised between the two, and carried from the saloon, Jane close behind, support- _— his head in her hands. traight to the shanty of Masked Maude, the for- tune-teller, the wounded youth was carried, and into the front room, the Potato-gulchian seeming perfect- ly familiar with the surroundings. The proprietress herself was absent, so Rattlesnake made free to use whatever might add to the comfort of Ben. He was laid upon the cot bed, and the red-whis- kered miner made an inspection of his body in search ————__—__ of wounds. Several were found upon his lower limbs, near the knee, none of which were of ac- count except for inconvenience. One in the breast, near the region of the heart, however, was more dangerous. ith a skillful hand Rattlesnake dressed the wounds; then, leaving Wrestling Walt and Calamity in nena he went forth in search of the fortune- er. ‘“Who is the chap, pard?’’ Drayton ventured to ask of Calamity, whom he mistook for one of his own sex, on account of her garb. He had not yet learned that the wounded youth was other than one of the rough, grizzled miners, who had so generous- ly volunteered in the conflict. Year. about to reply, when Ben raised him- self upon his elbow. : “Take off this false hair, will you, some one?” he asked, his voice trembling. He was very weak from a great loss of blood, and his head ached terribly. Calamity quickly relieved him of the wig, beard and mustache, and the handsome, golden-haired scout looked like himself once more, except that his face was very white. “By Jove! youare Buffalo Ben!’’ Drayton cried, in astonishment, coming forward to the bedside. “Yes, lam Buffalo Ben. Why? you do not know me—or, I don’t you, cept as a wrestler!”’ “Your name is not so obscure here in Deadwood,” replied Walt, with a smile. ‘Yes, I know you, by sight. In fact, I was just hunting for you, when the oon jamboree attracted my attention.” ‘*Hunting for me?’ Ben livened up a little at this, **How’s that? why were you hunting for me?”’ ‘* You have a sister, have you not?” “A sister/” The young prince of the pistol sat straight upright in bed, unmindful that his wounds bled | af at each move. “ Whatdo you know of “Very little, — except thet Ihad the pleasure o’ rescuin’ her from a female wretch they call Silver Sal. With the aid of a miner, I carried her up toa cave on the mountain, and here Iam in search of you, by her orders.” that took away all Ben gave a whoop of jo thoughts of his suffering, and put his hand in that of the wrestler. ‘“Pard!” he said, huskily, ““you have done me the eatest favor man could do me—have done what have been endeavoring to do for the last year, namely, rescue my sister from a terrible captivity. I shall never know how to be grateful enough—”’ Here the —_ ceased speaking; his head swam a strange fog came before his eyes, and he fell back senseless upon the couch, He had overdone, and it was full an hour before he regained his senses. Then there was a strange look about his eyes and lips, that one does not like to behold on a sick person, Calamity observed it first, and called Drayton’s attention to it. “Tt don’t look right,’’ she said, with a compression of the lips. ‘I don’t like it,” “Do you think—” began the wrestler, but she mov tioned for him to be silent. The young scout lay in a sort of trance; his li moved, and the two words he uttered were scarce audible: “ Alice! Belle!” ‘* His sister and sweetheart!’’ said Calamity, com- prehending. ‘‘They had best be fetched, for—” “For what?” ‘* For Buffalo Ben is sinking fast toward the grave !"’ was the se Oa as you know where his sweetheart is, and who she is?’ “Yes; her name is Stella. We left her not two hours ago, at the Centennial Hotel, where she stops.”” eThen I will go for her, and then for Miss Jerome,” decided Walt. ‘‘ As you say, it looks as if the boy’s a-goin’ fast.” e borrowed a few oariestgee and » ag his re- volver; then went out into the night. But a few steps had he gone, when he met a woman, hurry- ing swiftly along as though in haste. ‘You are Masked Maude!” Walt said, positively, stopping her. He saw that her face was masked, indeed, and that her attire was very rich. “Well!” she cried, sharply, ‘ what of it?” “A good deal. Did a red-whiskered miner, Old Rattlesnake by name, send you?’’ “6 page “Go on, then! Buffalo Ben is dying;” and the wrestler hurried on, leaving the fortune-teller star- after him. n the steps of the Centennial Hotel, Drayton came in contact with J. Aaron Wadsworth. “Hello!” he ejaculated, stepping back; “ excuse me; but is there a young lady stopping here by the name of Stella?—Stella something-or-other; hanged if I know what!” with a laugh. The man of millions ls “No, I think not!” he said. ‘She went away last evening; Major Fawdon says he has seen nothing of her since.”’ Major Fawdon came out as the millionaire was speaking. —“ Mt tees is Fawdon, now. Hey! major, suppose ayn heard nothing of Stella? A young man is ere inquiring after her.” “Eh?” The major sauntered up, his eyes blood- shot, and breath smelling very strongly of whisky. His hands were also done up in slings, crippled, and not.for use. ‘Yes, the girl came back, short time ago. Said a ee 5 carried her off, and tried to murder her, but he got shot, and so she got free. What the devil do you want, young fellow?” this to the wrestler, in a gruff, surly tone. “T have a message to deliver to the young lady
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Buffalo Ben. they call Miss Stella!’ replied Walt, not at all admir- ing the major. cent then hand it over to me, and I'll see she ts it. But Walt shook his head. It occurred to him that it might not be advisable to betray the whereabouts of Buffalo Ben. ““No; I must see the young lady in person,” was the reply. sie “Hey? what?” The officer didn’t appear to quite credit his hearing. ‘“‘ You won’t trust the message with me?” ‘‘No; I must give it to the one it’s intended for.” “Then, get iong with you; you can’t see her. D’ye hear? ray to when a slight, n was about to turn awa — figure flitted out from the hail, side. ‘“What isit? Why do you seek me?”’ she demand- ed, breathlessly. Walt glanced around. The major was striding savagely close; only time was given him to whisper: x Baflalo Ben is dying. Masked Maude’s shanty, beyond Metropolitan Saloon.” Then he hurried off toward the hillside, bound toward the cave. Stella turned and flew into the hotel, with a very deathly-white face. Scarcely two minutes elapsed ere she came forth, and sped down the street, wearing a hat and water- roof, Pr Tl follow her!” said the major, with an oath, “and learn what’s the rumpus!” CHAPTER XV. BRINGING MATTERS TO A CLOSE. WRESTLING WALT strode swiftly through the town and ascended the steep eastern hillside, which would have been enveloped in Stygian gloom, but for the ag Somer ad brightly from many a miner’s tent or shanty. The ascent of the hill was no easy matter. It was rough and rocky, and in places covered with patches of briers. But Drayton kept on determinedly, and his ef- and was at his forts were at last rewarded by reaching the entrance of the cavern. = hg dark and silent ic: ge eae Bao e@ passage-way was a y. Drayton started violently, as he stumbled over it. ‘By Heaven! what has ine ?”’ he ejaculated, striki a match, and ho it to the prostrate man’s face. ‘‘ AsI’m a live sucker, it’s St. Elmo!” It was indeed the professional wrestler, lying just where a bullet from the revolver of Lightning Luke had reached him. He was quite dead, and growing stiff, as he lay there. “ By thunder!’’ Drayton muttered, “this smells suspiciously that there’s been trouble here,” e stood for a moment, undecided whether to en- ter the black cavern or not. Might not Luke and Belle have been overpowered, and might not the to be lying in wait for him, ready to salivate These were the thoughts that flashed across the wrestler’s mind, but he was no coward, and a mo- ment later he advanced into the cavern. “Hello! Luke, are you there?” he called; then he listened for a ey There was a glad cry from the darkness, and next came the voice of the big-hearted hunter: “ Hello yerself! Be that you, Wrestler?’ “Reckon’s me,” replied Walt. ‘Come out; what ‘ye doin’ back there in the gloom, like a pair of fright- ened sheep?”’ ‘Bin hevin’ a funeral, round these diggin’s,” re- ed the hunter, coming forward, Belle poem oe him. ‘“Salivated two prowlers, a bit ago; hed a notion to plug you, out yonder, when you lit the match, but thort I'd best wait an’ see!" “Thoughtful of you!” replied Walt, peroestonty. “‘Isee you've put the light of eternity through St. Elmo, out yonder, in approved style.” “St. Elmo? War et the feller we hitched ter the fat fal w’at I keeled over?” “The same. He’s deader ’an a door nail.” ‘*Seore one p’int fer Ransom, then,’’ chuckled the hunter; ‘‘also another, in ther bargain, fer I opine hae find another lifeless corpuss, some’ere’s "bout ther dark, hyer.”’ “ Let’s have a light and investigate, then. Who kicked the fire out—you?” “Shouldn’t wonder! Too much glim war thare, so I doused it, tharby preventin’ ther enemy frum shov- in’ their pepper too free.” By groping around Walt found and succeeded in lighting a resinous pine knot, the flame of which dis- tinetly lit up the cavern from one end to the other. A little way off from where the trio were standing A > form of a woman, outstretched upon the It took but a glance to recognize the former cap- tress of Belle, the ugly and repulsive Silver Sal. She had run her race, and now lay silent in death. Tis Silver Sal!” exclaimed e centering, as her mind reverted to the many beatings she had re- ceived at the bad creature’s hands. “She is dead, and though she was cruel and merciless to me, I ask to have mercy on her soul.” . Then she turned to Drayton. tio My brother; did you find him?” was the ques- ~ put, and ‘her fair hand clasped his arm, ho "¥eS miss, I found Buffalo Ben,” was the wres- tler’s hesitating re “but it was in battle, in which Re per to Ty, part. He fe ust when we cok were fey: and is now Ea v low, ms _—s are = Maude the fortune- ’ a come to take you to him,” oe * Belle grew very pale. Many girls would have | / fainted but the lovely sister of Buffalo Ben con- trolled her emotjon; and then followed Drayton and htning Luke from the cave. hey descended the hillside to the shanty former- ly occupied by Silver Sal; here some wraps were hastily secured for Belle, and then they hurried on. Walt had communicated his fears to Ransom; con- poguently both men were eager to reach the death- of the scout, where their services might be need- ed any moment, And ere long they were knocking at the door of the fortune-teller’s abode, and were quietly admitted by Masked Maude, in person. Belle ran quickly to the bedside of the dying scout, and kneeling by side, burst into a passionate fit of weeping. Just opposite her was Stella, stroking back the outh’s r, and sobbing as if her heart would reak, Atthe foot of the bed stood a grave, clerical- look gentleman, the army surgeon of the com- mand then stationed in Deadwood. Calamity occupied a position at the head of the bed, and was silent. “What change has there been? how is he, poor fellow?’ asked Drayton, in a whisper, tears coming into his eyes as he glanced at the pale, pained face on the Wom cet. wreathed in its semi-framework of soft golden hair. “You can see for yourself,” replied the masked fortune-teller, in a low tone. “He has lain as he lies now ever since I came. Surely there is every indication that he is dying. Calamity summoned the surgeon; he says the case is bad, but does not pronounce it hopeless.” Both Walt and Ransom went and knelt by the bed- side. The wrestler took the youth's hand in his and pressed it gently. ““Who do you want to see, Ben?’’ he asked, tender- ly. ‘Is there any one pe want to come?” ** Only two!’ replied Jerome, in a scarcely audible tone—“ only two.” “And they are—”’ ‘“* Belle and Stella!” “Then take comfort, for both are here. Rise, la- dies, that he may see you.” Both the girls rose to their feet, and bent over the one whom of all others they loved the best. Ben seemed to recognize them both, for an expression of radiant jo lighted up his pale face, and he with ag gees NE ay eet’ , “T am so glad!’’ he gasped; then came a grea’ volume of clotted blood from between his lips, and he sunk back in exhaustion, As he did so one of the sleeves of his hunting-shirt was pushed above to the shoulder, and on the arm a name was indelibly tattooed. Luke Ransom was the only one to see this name, but it was a startling discovery to him. The name was Benjamin Wadsworth! Here, then, was one of the children of the murdered Elvira Wadsworth— one of the rightful heirs to the immense property of Aaron Wadsworth, the fiend-father! His first action was to call the surgeon to one side, and hold a short consultation. = Cie eony be doctor?” “ Hardly, I think!” was the grave reply. “He is sinking very “4 Vv “Yas, that’s plain; but, doctor, you must raise him—you must, I tell ye. amount 0’ spondu- lics wil cause you to put yer best fut for’ard, in this ease?” The surgeon started, then smiled. ‘Well,’ he said, reflectively, “‘now that you've asked me a fair question, I'll give youa fair answer. One thousand dollars worth of _—< adminis- tered remedies would place the boy in his saddle within a week!” Luke would have knocked the man down at an- other time; but now he felt that Buffalo Ben must recover, at all hazards, no matter the cost. “Go ahead, then,” he said, simply. ‘‘As soon as he is ready for the saddle, your fee shall be ready ey ye @ surgeon accepted with alacrity. A thousand dollars was not to be made every forty-eight hours, and he wee mus he could raise this case. He ordered all away from the bedside, then mixed medicines every few moments, and poured them be- tween Ben’s lips, watching their effect, narrowly. In the meantime Luke and Drayton kept watch of the exterior surroundi of the cabin, for they were fearful that Major Fawdon would lead a posse of the Regulators down in search of Buffalo Ben. But, morning dawned, and its rosy sunlight bath- ed the mountain tops in crimson and gold; yet no “ane can Cea sw ing an e others at the shant ht- ning Luke set off up the gulch for a stroll. Viele an object in view, however, and it became manifest eee he ran accidentally across J. Aaron Wads- worth. “Hello!” the scheming millionaire exclaimed, at once recognizing the hunter. ‘“ You in Deadwood yet?” I was in hopes I had seen the last of you.” “Ye don’t say so!” Ransom replied evidently amazed. “Waal, ye hain’t seen 1 o”’ m that’s darned certain. I war jest lookin’ ye up. want e ter cum along wi’ me.” ere to?’’ foller me, that’s all. I’ve ‘‘No matter whar; jest ecWadsworth hesitated °F ici fa) esi € was suspicious of this Northwesterner; he did not know what trap might have been laid for him. me ae won’ ” he declared. wish la: and souidee tae!” is eet A “Oh! no. I don’t wish terdoan o’ the kind. I have found the children of Elvira Wadsworth. Give me your weapons, if you have any, and come along.” 13 “T have none, Iam unarmed.” “You lie! You have a revolver there in your hip pocket. Give et ter me quick!” The millionaire handed it over, with a dark scowl. Somehow he felt himself completely in this hunter’s wer. And, too, he could not afford to be obstinate or he was eager to learn if really these so-called children of Elvira Wadsworth were her children. There was a way to prove their identity tnat he knew of; that he supposed Ransom to be ignorant of. ‘Lead on,” he said. ‘I’m all impatience to see these p! ny of mine,” with a sarcasticlaugh. ‘‘I — they look like their villainous father, eh?”’ Yo; like their murdered mother, I should say— light of complexion and hair.” ” Yes, that corresponds somewhat with their mother’s description. But go ahead, and give usa look at them!” Ransom led the way back toward the shanty of Masked Maude. There was a steely glitter in his eyes, which, if it had been observed by J. Aaron Wads- worth, might have caused that gentleman a feeling of uneasiness. The shanty gained, Luke opened the door and en- tered, Wadsworth close at his heels. - Inside, the hunter turned upon him. “You will permit meto bind your hands,” he said; and he did the jop neatly, before the millicnaire was scarce aware of it. Buffalo Ben was sitting bolstered up on the bed, with more color in his cheeks, and a greater portion of life than he had possessed when Luke had gone forth. Belle sat by his side, with his hands in hers, and as they were thus near to each other, you saw the t resemblance between them. “There, Aaron Wadsworth!” Ransom said, point- ing to the twain, ‘‘are your children, whom you hired Bill Burk to murder, sixteen years ago, along with their mother—your lawfully wedded wife. Ha! I see you recognize ‘em; ye see in them a great re- semblance to her whom you hounded down to death!” The man of millions said nothing; only stood and stared with dilated eyes at the youth and maiden, who, knowing nothing of the matter, were at a loss to comprehend the situation. His face was deathly white, and his form trembled like a shaken reed. “Ha! ha!” the hunter continued, “‘see the fiend tremble. He knows an’ fears w’at’s comin’. My friends, et ar’ my ter tell ye a short story an’ ter you two, Miss lie an’ Buffaler Ben, et ar’ of special interest. ‘Sixteen years ago, last winter, my old dad, Zeke Ransom, was over at Yocum, in Montana Territory, when he met a female wi’ two little babes in her arms, who appealed ter him fer protection, sayin’ as she war pursued by enemies, an’ knew not w’ich way ter turn. So, what should Ole Zeke do but tote them along home wi’ him, way out in the wilderness, beyond Twenty-Mile Stretch. While the woman was there, a day or so, as nigh as I kin judge, she writ this ’ere document,” and here the hunter produced the paper on which Elvira Wadsworth had left her confession—‘‘an’ my ole ar gens bother ona 0’ peltries I had nigh the ca “In the followin’ spring I returned from a trap- in’ expedition, an’ found my dad’s body layin’ a ‘ew rods only from the cabin, whar he had fe shot down, an’ in the open doorway o’ the same isolate home o’ my boyhood, I also found the corpse 0’ a woman. “Side by side I buried ‘em, and when goin’ ter get = 4 pelts out o’ ther cache I found this dockyment, which war explanation, in a measure!"’ Here he sto upon Aaron , and all eyes involuntarily turned adsworth, for ge? geen present felt that he was connected with crime, though none knew how closely. After a little pause, Ransom continued, his eyes Gaed elternately upon the millionaire and alo n. “T took the paper, and after long and hard study managed to decipher ets contents, fer et ar’, as ye see, written on terbaccy paper, wi’ a piece o’ plum- o. What I read there, my friends, fired me with a determination ter hunt down the man whose hand war at the bottom o’ this foul assassination, an’ bo tho’ I was, I set out on the trail, to avenge the deat 0’ my only livin tte - then ave roamed about the world, and met with many adventures, but feelin’ all the time I should some day meet the real murderer of my fa- ther—the human devil whose hands were dyed deep in the blood of his own wife. “And so it has turned out. I have encountered me, at last, and vengeance shall be mine. ‘But first, let me read ter you the dockyment I found in my peltry cache—thet will explain things better’n I can.” Then, after clearing his throat, Lightning Luke read from the confession. - CHAPTER XVI. THE TELL-TALE DOCUMENT—CONCLUSION,’ “To whom it may concern; “This is the life ager of Elvira Leamington , over two years ago, I m™m Wadsworth. To begin wit in secret wedded Aaron Wadsworth, a young mil- lionaire, whose vast estates joined those of my fa- ther’s. He professed to love me, and I imagined I loved him, in return. But I see now that it was a mad delusion. “We were secretly married at his proposal, he not es to make our nuptials public, for a year, dur- ing which time he said he hoped to effect a reconcil- iation of a deadly feud that existed between my family and his. But for nine months we were se- cretly ther, much of the time; he made me cost- ly presents, and we were — least, I was. : es were bern it all But, when my twin ba
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changed. He seldom came to me, after my father drove me from my home, and I took refuge in a neighboring village, and when he did come, it was oa curse me, and abuse me and my darlings. At last his conduct became so brutal that w des- rate, and told him thatif he did not publicly ac- owledge me as his wife, 4nd make me the mistress of his home, I would take the law into my own hands. Then ne became worse than ever, and tried to kill me and my babes. “He hated me, he said, and swore that neither I nor my children should ever inherit or enjoy a farth- ing of his millions; he became so violent that I was afraid of him. I dared hardly stir out of the doors for fear he would murder me. “Tatlast made up my_mind to take my children and fly—I knew not, cared not, where, only to es- cape from his devilish persecutions. But, he heard of my resolve, and forbade me to go, threatening to send agents after me, who would murder me and my babes, too. ‘This frightened me more than ever, and one night I took them, and fled forever from the home of my youth. I would have gone to my father, but he had forbidden my ever showing my face at his door, after the birth of my children and his discov- ery that I was the wife of his bitterest living enemy. Thus it was that I was cast adrift upon the cruel, pitiless world, “T had money—money which I had saved out of what he had first recklessly squandered upon me, and with this I paid my p: to New York, where I endeavored to hide myself in the great city. But, not a week had passed before I became aware that I was being hunted down, *“‘My cruel husband had set upon my track one of the most notorious ruffians of the county we lived in—a desperate, cunning villain, who stopped at | nothing to achieve his own ends. : “This man, Bill Burk name, had rallied around him a gang of kindred its, and they were on my trail, nosing me out, with murderous intent; learn- ing which, Lleft New York for Chicago. ‘But, like the bloodhounds they were, they fol- lowed me thither, and again necessity compelled me to flee before them, to escape death at their hands. I went to St. Louis, to Denver, to Salt Lake City, and to many small towns in the West, but all to no purpose. Like sleuth demons they followed in my wake. ‘At last Iam here, in the home of an old hunter named Ransom, far in an isolated wilderness, but they will surely come. I feel it in my heart. And I can go no further, My funds are nearly exhaust- ed; besides, I have despaired of ever escaping them. I am writing this and shall leave it where it will be found after I am dead. My babes—oh! God, I can- not bear to think of them. My only hope is that they may escape, and inherit the fortune which is rightfully theirs, and which their fiend father would defraud them of, “T leave this, in hopes that they may escape, and that the finder of this will hunt them up, and avenge my death, which I feel will be but a matter of a few hours... My children are named Benjamin and Mabel Wadsworth. On their arms above the elbow you will find their names indelibly tattooed. I had it done in Aaron’s presence, the second, week after my dar- lings’ birth. I also leave rolled up with this docu- ment a certificate of my pape Je and also one of my babes’ birth, which will be ail that. is required, to blish their rights as heirs of J. Aaron Wads- worth, their fiendish father. ‘Should this fall into the hands of Luke Ransom, whose father is. now sheltering me beneath his hospitable roof, I pray and beg that said Luke will earnestly endeavor to discover whether 0. not my babes are dead; and if so, that he will go east and give this matter into the hands of the law; if not, t he will find my children, and see them reared to a@ proper age, at- which time they can .push their lay ane of Ps: ad Tat ee ‘And may not 0: my he ut may Almighty God reward for his haryioes ? in their behalf. “ And now I feel that my mission is as nearly com- plete as I can make it. , “5 Etvrra L. Wapsworts.”’ Silence reigned throughout the a ent, as Lightning Luke concluded : eyes were centered upon the guilty man of millions, accus- ingly. "A Xna this is Aaron Wadsworth, the man whose hands are stained with the life-blood of our mother!” cried Buffalo. Ben, his voice rising cl despite his deat weakness— ‘ band and father, of whom we have just heard?” “The same!’’ dec Ransom, “Yer father, my boyee an’ girl, who would even now murder you, were it in his power, w’ich et ain’t. By his agency’ died my old father—one o’ the best trappers on the frontier; and by his son’s hand shall die Veke Ransom’s murderer—for this is the man who is the real murderer. ‘But I hev a leetle more to add. I found thet.aire docyment, an’ learnt w’at I’ve told ye. Nowhete could I found a de’d babby; so I concluded they war alive. I traced ’em inter an Injun camp, an’ seen *em sold ter an old fur-trader, named Jesse Jerome. I knew him well, an’ knew bya, Se hev a good hum, So I went off, satisfied on thet subject. A short time after, I tried ter find where Jerome lived, but he had vamoosed his ranch, an’ penetrated further inter the wilderness; tharfore I war discomflummixed! “‘T searched for him, off ’n’ on, fer all time sence, an’ less’n a year ago found him up nigh ther British line. _But ter my bitter disappointment, I learned thet the gal hed turned up missin’, sev’ral months before, an’ thet ther boyee hed gone in search o’ her. “T hev been looking for them ever since, For ten | Beadle’s Half-Dime years back I’ve hed a watch put on this Aaron Wads- worth, in his home at the East, an’ w’en I found he was comin’ ter Deadwood, I camealso. And I found him; and in Buffalo Ben and his sister I have found the children of the murdered Elvira, which nearly ends my mission. **Here, Ben, are the certificates and testimony; they insure — a fortune, and, I hope, a pleasant future life, For my services in your behalf, I crave only one favor.”’ “And what is that, Luke?” “That you turn over ter me this base villain—your father!’’ “Ha!” this was something unexpected, “Tam surprised. What d’ye want o’ him? **T want to use him,” was the hunter’s grim reply. “Ts he mine?” “Yes: take him forever from my sight, lest I kill him myself, and thus avenge my mother’s death. Begone, now, but come back, presently, fer I would see you again!” cried Buffalo Ben. Lightning Luke bowed, and then turned to Aaron ~abon sworth, who, white as a sheet, stood trembling- ly by. “Come!"’ he said, sternly; “you're mine, now. Your life depends on yer obedience,” Then he left the shanty, the millionaire following him like a whipped cur. The young scout’s strength now returned so rap- idly, that when the following noon came he was able to leave his couch, ee tebe | on the arm of Wrestling Walt, who was as deyoted as a brother. Stella and Belle were fast friends, but, even in their joy, all felt an uneasiness; even Masked Maude was not without apprehension, for they momentarily ee an attack from the Regulators, nd, sure enough, about sunset, a band of thirty or more, headed by Old Roxly, were seen approach- ing from up the gulch. All were armed with re- peating rifles and pistols. From holes in the shanty wall, the inmates watch- ed the approach. “I’m afraid thar ‘Il hev ter be more blood spilt than ever!" said Drayton. ‘‘ Major Fawdon has sent ‘em hyer fer Buffalo Ben, but, they shan’t take him while I can pull a trigger.*’ ‘Bravo!’ cried ked Mande, with enthusiasm. “But, your attention a moment, my friends, while I make a disclosure that will doubtless astonish you. People call me Masked Maude, the fortune-teller. It is because they know me not. I assumed this dis guise, and also, at different times, that of O/d Rattle- snake—the ‘‘me-c-owin’ Thomas Cat,” to enable mé to be in Deadwood, without being recognized; but, now, to you few assembled here, I unmask and you behold meas I am—Deadwood Dick, the road-agent.”’ And, tearing off the mask, and touching a spring in the back of the dress, the Prince of the Road stood disrobed of his feminine garb, but still in his suit of jetty black—handsome, fearless, dare-devil Dead- wood Dick, indeed. A general cry-of astonishment ted this revela- tion of the young outlaw, and quiet laugh reas- sured them. “This is a surprise, eh? but we have no time to talk itover, now. Business is at hand, and business always comes before pleasure, with me. We must meet these Regulator Dogs as they deserve; and punish ‘em, too!” Quickly he ran to the center of the floor, and pull- ed up a trap door that opened into a cellar, below; then up into the room, to the further amazement o all, poured two score of masked men, all of them road-agents, without doubt. - ‘** Every man to his loop-hole!”’ out the young chief's order, and as many rifles as there were men, were leveled at the approaching Regulators. Then Deadwood Dick flung open the door, and ceo upon the threshold, fearless of danger or ew “Regulators of Deadwood!” he cried; and his tones were stern and cold, ‘you have at last made a blunder that places you in my power. In this shanty my whole force of road-agents are concen- trated—forty in all, and by ranging your eyes along the walls, you will perceive that as many rifles are bearing upon you, with deadly aim. One word from me, and you are, for a most oe dead men. Now, wishing no further warfare, I ask you, will you re- treat and allow me and mine to quietly take our de- parture from wood, or will you come on, and orce us to fight our way out?” ‘* We will come on, and we'll take ye, or die in the attempt!’ yelled Roxly, springing forward, and fir- ing-of the breast of the young road-agent. ut it was his last shot. Loudly rung the rifle-reports of the road-agents, and down went two-thirds of the Regulators, either dead or dying. The rest turned and fled back to the Metropolitan, whereupon a body of several hundred Deadwoodites sallied forth to attack the shanty. But to their astonishment they saw the Prince of the Road and his band rye, Firtsbe up the gulch, mounted upon their swift s that had been con- — in a shed at the back of Masked Maude’s shanty. It was no use to follow in pursuit. Experience had gone to show that on horse the darine knights of the road could not be taken. So they v are allow- ed to go, and Deadwood’s pm breached easier, when they had vanished from view. With them went Buffalo Ben, Wrest! Walt, Belle, Stella—who was resolved to link her fortunes with Ben—and Calamity Jane. Nothing was seen of Lightning Luke; so he was left behind. On the trail was encountered Leone, Deadwood Dick's beauteous wife, and this made the little band complete. Library. | To the outlaw stronghold on the meuntain top, in a depth of the Hills, they went, and there we leave After leaving the fortune-teller’s shanty, Lightning Luke went with Wadsworth directly to the latter’s arlor in the Centennial Hotel, the door of which he Cok care to lock, while the key he slipped into his pocket. : “There!” he said, an ominous glitter in his eyes; “we're now free from interruption!”’ “Yes,” the millionaire replied, hoarsely, “we are alone. And what do you propose to do?” “T will show you,” the hunter said; then he left the room, locking the door after him. He, however, pe eer bringing with him a pair of dueling pistols, First, he cut loose the millionaire’s bonds, and then handed him a pistol. ** Aaron Wadsworth,”’ he spoke, his tones cold and stern, ‘‘ we’ll now come ter a settlement. You are responsible fer the death of my father, an’ I want yer life. If you can take mine, however, all right. See! ther clock on yonder mantel is about to strike. At the first stroke, we will fire!’’ ren up came the pistols, and the two men wait- ed. *“One!”’ chimed the clock, and the flash of two pistols followed. Without. a groan, Aaron Wads- worth fell to the floor—dead! Then Lightning Luke turned away. was fulfilled. His mission What shall we say in conclusion? After a week's rest at the stronghold of Deadwood Dick, during which time Ben fully recovered, he and Stella and Wrestling Walt and Belle, set out for Bozeman, which post they reached in safety, and there bade adieu to the Prince of the Road and his followers. At Bozeman there occurred two marriages, and the reader need not take long to guess who were the happy brides and_bridegrooms., rom Bozeman the newly-wedded quartette came East, and now our Buffalo Ben is engaged in prose- cuting his own and Mabel’s claims for inheritance; which, when they are duly recognized, will make them among the wealthiest of their State. May they ever live happy and enjoy that which an evil father tried to cheat them out of ! THE END. The New York Library. 1 A Harp Crown. By Philip S. Warne.......... 1c. 2 THe Dare-Devi, By Col. P. Ingraham...... 10c. 3 Kir Carson, Jr. By Buckskin Sam.......... 10c. 4 Tur Kipnarrer. By Philip 8. Warne........ 10c. 5 Tue Frre Frenps. By A, P. Morris, Jr....... 6 Wixpcar Bos. By Edward L. Wheeler...... 10¢. ¢ Deatu-Notcu, Tue DesrroyéR. Oll Coomes. 10c. 8 Tor Heapiess Horseman. By Mayne Reid... 20c. 9 Hanpy Anpy. By Samuel Lover............, 10c, 10 Vinocq, THE FreNcH Po.ice Spy. Written by himself: : ive. 46 LBW G90. 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WEBSTER, CHOATE, EVERETT, ADAMS, BEECHER, DEWEY, TALMAGE, CHAPIN, LONGFELLOW, «+ WHITTIER, READE, PRENTICE, STORY, DICKINSON, KENT, SEWARD, BRET HARTE, CARL PRETZEL. JOHN Hay, BILLINGS, BRYANT, STREET, WALLACE, HOLMES, HAMILTON, RANDOLPH, MADISON, — WINTHROP, REV. JOS, COOK, CUYLER, DURYEA, WAYLAND, MAX ADELER, MARK TWAIN, OOFTY GOOFT, DOESTICKS, CARLYLE, MACAULAY, WILBERFORCE, PITT, SHAKSPEARE, MILTON, _ BYRON, BURNS, E. E. REXFORD, B, F. TAYLOR, STODDARD, ALDRICH, WILL CARLETON, JOE JOT, Jr., —FOR— School, Exhibition and gil SPEAKERS # DIALOGUES. | THE MOS? cost AVAIIABLE, Dapp, i ATTRACT \ SERIEs, SING COLLEQ? wD TAKI LECT Os —oFr— Declamations, Farces, Recitations, Notable Passages, Dialogues, Minor Dramas, Speeches, Extempore Efforts, Colloquies, Acting Charades, Orations, Addresses, Burlesques, Dress Pieces, IN ALL THE FIELDS OF Wit, Humor, Burlesque, Satire, Eloquence and Argument, Schools, Exhibitions #Amateur Theatricals. THE DIME SPEAKERS. 1—Dimrz AMERICAN SPEAKER. 2—Dime NATIONAL SPEAKER. 8—Dime Patriotic SPEAKER. 4—Diwe Comic SPEAKER. 5—Diwe ELOcUTIONIST. 6—Dime Humorous SPEAKER. 7—Dime STANDARD SPEAKER. 8—Dime Stump SPEAKER. 9—DIME JUVENILE SPEAKER. 10—Dimz SPREAD-EAGLE SPRAKER. Each Speaker, 100 pages 12mo., THE DIME 11—Dim& DEBATER AND CHAIRMAN’S GUIDE. 12—Dime EXHIBITION SPEAKER. 18—Dim& SCHOOL SPEAKER. 14—Dime Lupicrous SPEAKER. 15—CaRL PRETZEL’s KoMIKAL SPEAKER. 16—DimMr YOUTH’s SPEAKER. 17—Dime ELOQUENT SPEAKER. 18—Dine Har, CoLumMBIA SPEAKER. 19—Dime SEri0o-Comic SPEAKER. 20—Dime SELECT SPEAKER, containing from 50 to 7% pieces. DIALOGUES Are filled with original and specially prepared contributions from favorite and popular caterers for the Amateur and School Stage—giving more taking. and effective dialogues, burlesques, social comedies, domestic farces, exquisite dress and exhibition dramas than any collection ever offered at any price. Dime DraLocurs NuMBER ONE. Diwg DraLocurs NUMBER Two. Dime DraLocurs NuMBER THREE. Dime DIALOGUES NuMBER Four. DimE DIALOGUES NuMBER FIVE. Dime DraLocues NuMBER SIx. Dine DIALOGUES NUMBER SEVEN Dime DraLoauEes NuMBER EIGHT. Dime DraLoaures NumBer NINE. Dime D1ALoGuEs NUMBER TEN. Dime DIaLocurEs NuMBER ELEVEN. Each volume, 100 pages 12mo., BEADLE é& ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St, N. Y. Dime DraLocues NuMBER TWELVE. Dre DraLocuES NuMBER THIRTEEN. Doce D1raLoGurs: NuMBER FOURTEEN. Dime DraLoGUES NUMBER FIFTEEN. Dore DraLocuErs NuMBER SIXTEEN. Dmure DraLoGues NUMBER SEVENTEEN, Little Folis. Dime D1aLoGuEsS NUMBER EIGHTEEN. Dime DIALOGUES NUMBER NINETEEN. Dime DIALOGUES NUMBER TWENTY. Dime DIALOGUES NUMBER TWENTY-ONE. containing from 15 to 25 pieces. WHITEHORN, DR. CRUSBY, SPRAGUE, PIERPONT, FAT CONTRIBUTOR, jj MAGOON, DUGANNE, PERCIVAL, DANBURY NEWS, REV. DR. HALL, LOWELL, DANA, DETROIT FREE PRESS, SCUDDER, BAYARD TAYLOR, JOHN NEAL, HAWKEYE, DOANE, POE, OSGOOD, BEN ZEEN, BELLOWS, E. E. HALE, SAXE, : : THE POPULAR AND / STANDARD BOOKS Home Entertainment. PARTON, PHILLIPS, SARGEANT, MASON, LINCOLN, WASHINGTON, JEFFERSON, JACKSON, SHERIDAN, EMMET, BURKE, MEAGHER, ORPHEUS C. KERR, MILES O’REILLY, GEO. F. TRAIN, CROCKETT, DICKENS, SIDNEY SMITH, TOM HOOD, JERROLD, SUMNER, HOLT, WILSON, JOHNSON, SIMPSON, PARKER, COLLYER, WILLETT, ANNA DICKINSON, MRS. VICTOR, THE CARYS, FANNY FERN, GREELEY, EVARTS, SCHURZ, CURTIS, | BISHOP WHIPPLE, REV. DR. WOOD, DR. NADIR, HAWES, MILBURN, SPURGEON, KOSSUTH, BENTON, CALHOUN, STEPHENS, HENRY CLAY, MARSHALL, HENRY, GOUGH. te
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Every one of them ‘* Live” Stories by ** Live®? Authors. a Compiete Novel, at the extraordinary price of a HALF-DIME, or, THE WONDERFUL 12 Gulliver’s Travels. A Voyage to Lilliput, and a Voyage to Brobdingnag. 13 The Dumb Spy. By Oll Coomes, author of ‘‘ Vagabond Joe,” etc. 1 Aladdin ; LAMP. 15 The Sea-Cat; or, Taz Wircon or Darien. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 16 Robinson Crusoe. His Life and Surprising Adventures, (27 illustrations.) 1 3 Ralph Roy, The Boy Bucca- neer; or, THE FuGirive YAcur, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 1 he) Sindbad the Sailor. His seven voy- ages. From the Arabian Nights. 19 The Phantom Spy; or, Tae Por oF THE Prarrie. By Buffalo Bill. 2 The Double Daggers; or, Drap- woop Dick’s Deriance. By Edward L, Wheeler, author of ‘‘ Deadwood Dick.” 21 Frontier Angel. A Romance of Kentucky Rangers’ Life. By Edward §8. ANI Ellis, author of ‘*Seth Jones,” etc. ' The Sea Serpent; or, THz Boy DEADWOOD DICK. 22 Rosrnson Crusonr. By Col. Juan Lewis. Deadwood Dick, Trak PrINcE or THE 2 Roap; or, THe BLACK RweER OF THE BLACK By Edward L. Wheeler. Nick o’ the Night: or, Tue Boy Spy or '76. By T. C. Harbaugh. Hits. : Yellowstone Jack; or, Taz TRAPPER } OF THE ENCHANTED Grounp. By Jos. EK, / Badger, Jr., author of “ Pacific Pete,” ete. ; Kansas King; or, THe Rep RicHt i Hanp, By Buffalo Bill (Hon. Wm. F. Cody). ; The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 5 Vagabond Joe; THE Young WANDER- ; ING JEw. By Oll Coomes, er; or, LIFE IN ward §. Ellis. Yankee ; or, THe OCEAN y Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 6 Bill Biddon, Tra THE NorRTHWEST. By ; The Flyin OUTCAST. Seth Jones; or, THE CAPTIVES OF THE Frontier. By Edward §. Ellis. 9 The Adventures of Baron Mun- chausen. 1 Nat Todd; or, THe Farr or THE Sroux Captive. A Sequel to “ Bill Biddon, Trapper.” By Edward §. Ellis. 1 1 The Two Detectives; or, THE Fortunes of A Bowrery Girt. By Albert W. Aiken, author of ‘‘ The Spotter Detective,”’ etc. ROBINSON CRUSOE.—No, 16. 24 Diamond Dirk: or, THz Mystery oF THE YELLOWSTONE. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, author of ‘‘The Flying Yankee,”’ etc. aE The Boy Captain: or, THe Prratr’s 7 Shoe x 25 mons By y Roger Starbuck. x h iat ee me ae 26 Cloven Hoof, the Demon. By Edward L. Wheeler ~a . \. 2Q7 martin” the Boy Guide. 28 Buffalo Ben, the Prince of the Pistol: or, DeEaApwoop Dick IN Diseuise. By Edward L. Wheeler 29 The Dumb Page; or, THE Doar’s taker, author of ‘‘The Wild-Horse Hunters,” etc. 30 Roaring Ralph Rockwood, THE Keen-Knife, THE PRINCE oF THE Prarries. By Oll Coomes. 3 | or, Tae Grau Drap-SHor. By Edward L. Wheeler, author of “ Deadwood Dick,” ete., ete. RED PrraTEs OF THE CARIBBEES, By Samuel W. Pierce, author of “The Boy Detective,” etc., ete. Boy Spy. By Capt. J. F.C. Adams. Ready March 19th. DaveuTer. By Capt. Frederick Whit- - =. Reckiess Ranaer. By Harry St. George. =. 31 eee Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian: 33 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, THE 34 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Wuirrtzs’ THE OCEAN BLOODHOUND.—No. 33, Each number ANTELOPE ABE.—NOoO. 27. 35 Wild Ivan, Tur Boy CLaupE DvvaL; or, THe BroTHERHOOD or DeratTsH. Dead- wood Dick Romance No. 4. By Edward L. Wheeler. 36 The Boy Clown; or, THE QUEEN OF THE ARENA. By Frank S. Finn. 37 The Hidden Lodge; or, TuE LITTLE Hunter OF THE ApIRONDACKS. By T. C. Harbaugh, author of “ Nick o’ the Night,” etc. 38 Ned Wylde, Tue Boy Scour. Texas Jack. 39 Death-Face, the Detective; or, Lire AND Love IN New York. By Ed- word L. Wheeler. Ready 40 Roving Ben. A story of a Young American who wanted to see the world. By John J. Marshall. Ready April 30th. Al Lasso Jack, THE YouNG MUSTANG- ER. By Oll Coomes. Ready May 7th. By A new issue every week. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. WILD IVAN.—No. 35,