Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 363) (1884 07 08)
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THIRD EDITION. IN he al ic | Tf a " » : eae /, - TS itl lt ee 2 d\n dN _ $2.0 a year. Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates. Copyright, 1884, by BEADLE AND ADAMS. July 8, 1854. Vol. XIV. ,zingle. PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, Price, No 363 . . No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. Lt TLE TORNADO: or, The Outcasts of the Glen. BY PHILIP Ss. WARNE, AUTHOR OF “! PATENT-LEATHER JOE,” ‘‘DESPARD, THE DUELIST,” ‘“‘ ALWAYS ON HAND,” ETC., ETO. iP Sy >> WZ — oN cm j “ = = i: WWSse \ NOL “TET UP, SWEETHEART!” CRIED LITTLE TORNADO IN ACCENTS WHICH HAD A CLEAR METALLIC RING IN THEM WHICH MEANT MISCHIEF-
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| | Little Tornado; The Outcasts of the Glen. A Story of the Prairie. BY PHILIP 8S. WARNE, AUTHOR OF ‘ PATENT-LEATHER JOE” SERIES, ““DESPARD THE DUELIST,” ‘‘ ALWAYS- ON-HAND,” ETC., ETC., ETC, CHAPTER I. DON'T BE SO FRESH! Srx months before the date of our story an emigrant-train, composed of steady-going New England farmers, with their wives and children, found in the northeastern corner of New Mexico an oval-shaped glen, of not more than twelve or fifteen miles in circumference, shut in by low hills, and surrounded by the level prairie, like an oasis in the desert. Naming this beautiful spot Glen Eden, they apportioned the land between them, turned u the rich black loam and scattered their seed, while they continued to live in their white- tilted wagons; then, when the rainand sunshine were at work for them, felled timber and built houses for themselves and inclosures for their stock. Long before their grain had ripened, Glen Eden became a stopping-place for other adven- turers to the new Zl Dorado, and for men of all nationalities and occupations, who were con- stantly drifting about the country, from the fickle gold-hunter, leaving certain ** hard-luck ” behind. in quest of “‘ better luck next time,” to the weve ranchero, seeking a market for a thousand head of cattle. Commandant Thurston and his family lived in a house considerably more commodious with- in and pretentious without than the simpler folk who looked up to him as their leader, Like the castle of a feudal baron, his home was built with a view to defense in war, and was set upon a slight elevation near the head of the glen, and surrounded by a stockade, Before ‘the Glen Eden inn, on a sultry after- noon, late in the season, when tha grain was nodding its greenish-yellow heads, almost ready for the cradle, lounged two men of rather sinis- ter aspect. One was a giant in stature, with a shock of bristling red hair and a scrubby and tobacco- stained chin. He was dressed in a slouch hat, gray woolen shirt, and brown canvas overalls, tucked into the tops of wrinkled and horn-hard cowhide boots. A fancy Indian bead belt supported a brace of huge revolvers, which, as he was fond of boasting, be meant to mount on gun carriages **as soon as they were old enough to vote,” while a bowie ponderous in proportion was thrust into his boot-leg, after the style inaugurated in Mis- sissippi. : From the color of his hair, this man was call- ed Colorado—Spanish for red—Steve. His companion was a dapper little Spaniard, arrayed in all the gaudy spletdor of a Mekicgn dandy. From the gay silk handkerchief wrapped about his head beneath bis sombrero, to the jin- gling spurs that adorned the heels of his moroc- co bottas, be was ‘‘ got up to kill!” Colorado Steve was balancing his buge body on the hitching-bar, hacking with bis bowie the wood between his pendulous legs, while Senor Ramirez stood with one elegantly-booted foot on the edge of the bitgang Pees J nervously lashing his instep with a riding-whip. “Mira !” [Bebold !] he suddenly exclaimed, with a stare of mingled hate and admiration and. hungry desire that was little sbort of satanic. «The commandant’s daughter!—the fair Senor- ita Ruth!” ‘* Waal,” said Colorado Steve, looking with dull interest in the direction taken by his com- nanion’s eyes, “ef that thar tow-head is your style, ye’re welcome to her; but give me the black-eyed Wenus that’s a-swingin’ an’ a-sway- in’ beside her,like a limber statoo. Hang yer midgets! A man wants somethin ur nothin’ fur his money when he invests in a housekeeper.” af per a /” hissed the Spaniard, with a ser- nt side-glance of disgust at his companion; hen, schooling his face to more winning looks he began to plume himself after the manner o the ‘“‘ masher ” the world over, Ruth Thurston was petite and flaxen-haired with peach-bloom cheeks, eyes like a wildwood violet, and lips the color of the inner surface of esea-shel]. Sbe carried her broad-brimmed Little Tornado. straw hat, filled with prairie flowers, basket- wise, with her arm through the knotted ribbons. She was crowned with a loosely-woven garland, ar trailing ends mingling with her disheveled air. Madeline Fortescue was a rustic goddess, fair and tall, with her purple-black hair braided in a single heavy plait and coiled about the top of her head like a tiara, Instead of flowers, she bore a sheaf of grasses and fers on ber arm, Her complexion was a pure dead white; but per lips were full and cf a deep, rich, vivid scar- et. At sight of the men they would have to en- counter before the tavern, gentle Ruth stopped swinging ber hat and let the song die on her lip, while she drew nearer to her companion, the soft bloom fading out of her cheek. ‘* Look, Maddie!” she said in a low tone, ‘there is that horrid Ramirez! Can’t we pass to the other side of the road, and avoid meeting him face to face?” ‘** Not we!” replied the bolder Madeline, with a flash of the eye and a proud lifting of the head, while two spots of angry vermilicn ap- peared in her cheeks. ‘If there were no other objection, it would be letting them see that. we attach too much importance to their insolence.” As the girls came up, Senor Ramirez, doffing his hat with a grace that would bave become a cavalier, stepped across their path, so as to in- tercept the commandant’s daughter. ‘*Pardonn, Meez Tourstonn!” he said, bowing low, with a smile that was even more calculated to frighten the innocent girl than his frown. ‘*If it will please you, of your gracious—” But with a murmur of apprehension, faint- hearted little Ruth had shrunk close to the side of her companion, clutching her band spas- modically, and staring from behind ber at the man who had presumed to address her, as a a nace child peers from bebind its mother’s ress. Brave Madeline had taken a cross-step before her protegee, so as to oppose her dauntless front and blazing eves to the insinuating Spaniard, and had lifted her arm with a gesture that would have done honor to a queen of the Ama- zons. ** Allow us to pass, sir!” she demanded, eying him cuflisohingly, while the hectic of annoy- ance fled from her cheek, to give place to white- lipped indignation. ‘‘ You are insolent! What right have you to stop us in the open street?” Senor Ramirez bowed even lower before this haughty young queen, with the smile of the quivering lip, while his eyes seemed to dart serpent tongues of fury at her from under his black brows. ‘* Pardon, senorita!” he said, not yielding his place. ‘* My address was to the gracious daugh- ter of the commandant.” “That was very evident, sir!” retorted Mz- deline, as firmly as he; “but the daughter of the commandant does not know you, and, what is more, bas no desire to, Step out of our path, or you will learn thatthe women of Glen Eden cannot be insulted with impunity !” Thus far Colorado Steve had sat with a broad grin of amusement and admiration on his re- pulsive phiz. He now burst into a gruff: ‘Haw! haw! haw! baw!” Senor Ramirez turned livid with rage. ‘* The senorita is quite tragic for the daughter of a tiller of the soil!” he sneered, with a still deeper bow. ‘But it is for the lady of nobler descent to dismiss one whose respect is as pro- found as his admiration.” ‘** You insoleut loafer!” cried the Yankee girl, stamping her foot and clinching ber hand. ‘Come away, Maddie!” cried Ruth, dragging at her companion’s sleeve. ‘‘Let’s go into the tavern,” and turning to beat a-hasty retreat, she espied just appearing in the doorway, a weet AR to whom she appealed, all in a panic. **Oh, Sidney! Sidney!” He was a fine young stripling of not more than seventeen or eighteen, with a frank, fear- less countenance, and wearing the full buckskin dress of the border bunter. His hair dark chest- nut, and his eyes gray, with the piercing glance of an eagle’s, His form, although not yet filled out to the proportions of manhood, showed that no mean muscular development lay beneath the close-fitting buckskin. He was Madeline Fortescue’s brother, and by the impetuosity of his assault, in hostile fight or friendly contest, had won the sobriquet of Little Torvado. In this instance be proved that the name was well deserved; for scarcely was his name past the lips that—shall we tell it so soon?—he loved when he swoo down upon Ramirez, it seemed with a single bound, That persistent aplent received warning just in time to partially parry a blow that would have knocked him over the water-trough into the muddy pool that the horses’ hoofs had made on the other side; but be sanaered under the impetus of the body that collided with bis‘as if shot out of a mortar, barely saving himself from sprawling with his pure Castilian nose in the dirt. ‘*Waal, now, I reckon this hyar business belongs to me!” cried Colorado Steve, and leap- ing from the bitching-bar, he caught Little Tornado by the tbroat almost at the instant of the sbock that overthrew his partner, and by a skillful twist and an exertion of his great strength threw him on his back. Tbe women both screamed with fright at this misadventure of their young champion; but now the whilom timid Ruth, instead of fyin as she had been on the point of doing, foun courage—where the gentlest of her sex always do, in her love—to spring to his side, to lift his head from the ground. Such was her purpose; but he was up before she bad more than touched him. However, another was, before him. From round the corner of the building, in the direc- tion of the stables, had appeared a man who in point of physique need ask little favor of even Colorado Steve. His garments, of stout material, selected for service rather than show, were worn carelessly, yet not without a certain free grace. His full beard was so straggling and unkempt that at first glance one would be apt to set him down as arough old scout or guide. A second, more scrutinizing look might give the impression that a tasteful barber and gents’ furnisher would make a very marked c!:ange in his appearance. We answered without reluctance to the name of Old Buncomb, though Miss Fortescue never heard bim so addressed or referred to without a thrill of indignant protest. As a fact, this name, based on the Yankee story of a lawsuit in which a ‘‘ buncomb” fence is defined as ‘‘hoss high, bull strong, and pig tight,” was a compliment to Hugh Bunker’s physical prowess and personal trustworthiness. v Waal, I swear!” was Old Buncomb’s brief comment on the situation, and picking Senor ° Ramirez up from the ground, he soused him into the horse-trough with a splash that sent the water flying over every member of the party. They all seemed disposed to forgive him, save and except only Senor Ramirez, who scrambled to his feet andstood up in what water was left out of the troughful that had received him, gasping and spluttering and blinking his eyes and holding his arms away from his body, while the water trickled in musical rills from his wilted finery. Colorado Steve was mightily tickled, though he felt called upon to spring at Old Buneomb, whipping out his bowie. But spry Little Tornado was on bis feet again, and appeared. before bim with a cocked revolver, which he thrust fairly into the giant’s face. ‘Let up, sweetheart!” cried Little Tornado in accents which had-a clear metallic ring in them which meant mischief, as did the steady light in his gray eyes. i “My bantam,” replied the giant, looking down upon the boy who braved him, “ ye’re lit- tlé, but ye’re loud. I hear ye!” And quite good-naturedly be returned to his boot leg the weapon which he would cheer- fully have sheathed under Old Buncomb’s ribs, and resumed his seat on the hitcbing-bar as quietly as it nothing unusual bad happened, ‘* Mil diablos !” screamed Senor Ramirez, who had by this time sufficiently recovered his pres- ence of mind toleap out of the drinking trough “are we to have no revenge, then? Blood o the martyrs! I would have the hearts of these accursed Americanos !” And standing with bis back curved and his head thrust forward, while his shortened lip showed his teeth set edge to edge, he made quick clutches with his bands, as if he werg in imagination tearing those indispensable organs out of his enemies’ bodies. ‘* Jest so,” drawled Colorado Steve, as if his partner had expressed a very natural and quite ordinary desire; ‘‘but I wouldn’t take ’em now,” : His late opponents stared at this strange col- league who took the business of chaffing his partner out of their hands. Steve himself seemed to be unconscious of any incongruity in this. He was quite serious. The fact was that, although be “ ranged” with the Spaniard, he had a borderman’s thorough-
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Beh Oh vs a? deo /kt ate ts Se ee tof going contempt for him as a ‘‘cowardly reaser,” and took no pains to conceal the fact. Ramirez often writhed under this scorn; but he | found Steve too useful to break with bim. Now, however, maddened by this public mockery—for quite a little crowd had gathered | from within the tavern and the stables—be shrieked out a string of Spanish imprecations, and swore by the’bones of bis ancestors to have the heart’s blood of every one there present. ‘Thar! thar! that’ll do, Johnny!” said his unsympathetic partner, with some show of im- patience. “ Hain’t you white-livered Greasers got nothin’ at all in ye but jest wind? Ye make me dog sick, ’ll sw’ar! Hold off when ye’ve got yer stomick full—that’s my motto.” Whereupon the victim of insult added to in- jury turned upon his disaffected partner, and fell to upbraiding him for his desertion. Colorado Steve abandoned his perch on the hitching-car, strode,up to the exasperated Spaniard, coolly took him by the collar, and turning to Old Buncomb, asked, as if making en as to the best disposal of a petulant child: ‘* What shall I do with him, boss? I feel sor- ter sponsible fur him when he gits this hyar way, the which it’s more frequenter than you’d think.” _ “fl tell_you what you shall do with him!” interposed Little Tornado, with no abatement of his resentment, for all that he voted the ‘thing ‘a queer go.” ‘* Waal, chicken,” assented Steve, cheerfully. ‘““Treckon it don’t matter much who has the eo Spit ’er out red-hot while ye’re about dt. “You will take him out of this. settlement, and yourself with him; and you will make him ‘understand—not forgetting to keep a share of the knowledge for yourself—that if he is ever ‘caught within the circumference of these hills again, he will be tied up toa tree and treated to twenty cuts of a rawhide over his bare back!” Colorado Steve turned to. Old Buncomb with anod and a grin, and observed with confiden- tial enthusiasm: ** But ain’t he a stinger?” Then turning again to Little Tornado, he said: _“*Thankee! thankee! But ef this hyar pore pickin’s had your pluck along o’ hissavy, he’d flax ye yet. Maybe before ye git through with it, me an’ him will manage to give ye some leetle reg’ fur the time you’ve put into the thing, as is. Surely no one but Colorado Steve ever deliv- ered a threat in so friendly a tone, and with so genial asmile. The ladies, though they heard every word, were so completely misled by his manner that they did not catch their signifi- cance, Senor Ramirez, however, knew him well enough to understand that the game was not yet up, though he yielded the first hand. He there- fore the more readily submitted to be led away. If there was to hima pure delight, it was the chance to harbor a grudge and dream over the pound of flesh that be would exact. He would feast his imagination on it, and invent so many fiendishly delightful tortures, that, before the opportunity offered to put any one of them into execution, it reall y seemed a loss to accept one in fact and lose all the rest in fancy, Old Buncomb knew a thing or two about men: and when the pair bad mounted their borses and ridden out of the glen, Senor Ramirez shaking his fist and swearing eternal vengeance, while Colorado Steve waved his band in friendly fash- ion and grinned his good-will,—when the ladies had been escorted home, congratulating them- selves and complimenting their champions on the happy issue of the fracas,—then he said to Little Tornado: ‘*Boy, we hain’t heared the last o’ the Outcasts © the Glen, ye onderstand!” And Liftle Tornado replied: ‘*Let ’emcome! I allow they’! find us one too many for ’em!” “I hope so. I hope so,” returned Old Bun- comb, meditatively. On the outside of the hills that shut in Glen Eden, looking toward the west, where the ser- rated peaks loomed blue in the distance, stood a girl shading her eyes with her hand, while she gazed after the retreating outcasts as the skimmed the prairie with the fleet, loping gait to which plains horses are trained. She was tall and straight asan arrow. Her brown skin declared her Indian biood; but it was toned by a Caucasian mixture to a clear, smooth olive, through which the rich tide of Little Tornado. life mantled in her cheeks with that loveliness which sometimes, but not always, comes of blended races. Her features, following the | European mold, borrowed an uplifted nobility | from the barbaric pride of one line of her an- cestors. Her hair, straight and coarse, and of a dead black, bung down her back in a single heavy plait. Her dress was civilized, if we ex- cept the mocecasius she wore, but was tricked out with bits of savage ornament which well became her wild beauty. This girl, with the stoicism of her mother’s people, stood as motionless as a statue, gazing out over the prairie, until the figures of the horsemen dwindled to mere specks in the dis- tance, only distinguishable because in motion, and lost beyond recovery the moment the eye was taken off of them—and then vanished among the foot-hills. Only her eagle eye could have followed them so far. The expression of her face, clouded with brooding melancholy, never changed. When at last she turned away with a profound sigh, she walked with drooping head and sad eyes fixed immovably on the ground, and with a tread as heavy as if her lithe limbs, that one felt might outleap the roe, were loaded with chains. What were the Outcasts of the Glen to her ? CHAPTER II. ‘* TROUBLE BEGINS.” ‘¢ On, how beautiful! And, see! see! what a sweet little fawn! Oh, Sidney !—don’t shoot!” But the petition came too late. The sharp, spat-like crack of a carbine was beard and lost with the abruptness with which sounds die on the open prairie, where there is nothing to pro- long the echo, and a doe, which had just sprung from the cover of a motte which dotted the plain like an overgrown clump of shrubbery in a landscape garden, leaped into the air and fell in aheap, while a fawn, which had followed its dam too late to purchase her safety through the pity ‘its beauty and helplessness inspired, ran round the quivering and feebly-struggling body. whimpering plaintively—and, lastly, a stag sped away like the wind. ‘‘Oh, what a pity!—what a perfectly dread- ful pity!” sighed tender-hearted Ruth Thurston, quick tears suffusing ber blue eyes. ‘‘ Sidney, how could you?” ‘“But, Rutb,” pleaded the too skillful marks- man, ‘“‘how could I know about the fawn, which you yourself did not see until it was too late?’ ‘Well, anyway, it seems cruel to kill such innocent, helpless creatures af all.” And leaping from her horse, which was too well-trained to need hitching, she plucked a handful of tender grass, and holding it out in- vitingly, approached the timid orpban with words of endearment and sympathy, spoken in low, cooing intonations. Pe RN?’.};<—ke\—<——em ‘Well, for a girl who loves venison as well as | you do, that seems to me a little ungracious!” said young Fortescue, with a good-natured smile, ‘‘ But I’m sorry to have distressed you— I needn’t say that.” However, Ruth was too busy striving to win the confidence of the little animal to listen to reproach or regrets, Her companions—Sidney, Madeline and Old Buncomb—sat their horses quietly, so as not to increase the difficulties of the task, while they awaited the issue. After leaping away several times, the fawn stopped and stretched its neck out toward her, waving its dainty muzzle up and down while it snuffed the air; then, as she sunk ‘softly down on the grass, still inviting it with extended band and wooing murmurs, it approached ber cautiously, step by step, until it could nibble her white fingers. As she drew the hand slowly toward her, the little creature followed, so that presently she had her arms about its neck, and was kissing and crying over it: and the con- quest of love and pity was complete. “Oh! isn’t it lovely? Poor little thing!” she murmured, taking a ribbon from her own throat to tie about its neck. ‘“ How it pants and trembles! And just see the tears in its eyes! If it were a baby it couldn’t cry more naturally. Ob, I mean to keep it and bring it up so tenderly that it will never miss its poor dead mamma!” The others now drew near, but the little ani- mal shrunk close to the side of its first confi- dante, so that Ruth laughed and cried together with delight, as she bugged it to her, murmur- in Was addie, ‘gz: **Ob! do you see? It loves me avrg there ever anything half so sweet? a a ou can’t coax it away from me. Oh, you ittle love!” This innocent sport engrossed all of them so that the time passed unheeded, until Old Bun- comb suddenly woke to the fact that the sun hung just above the snowcapped peaks that bordered the western horizon. “ Hallo!” be exclaimed sharply. ‘It’s get- ting late! We'll have to let up on this foolery, if we want to get hot jobnny-cake for supper.’ ‘*But what shall I use for a leash?’ cried Ruth, far more interested in her fawn than in her supper. But ber words were cut short by a sharp cry from Old Buncomb. From the force of habit he had swept the plain with his eye, until it was suddenly arrest- ed by some distant object. Then with that erties ery he put one foot in she stirrup, sprung so as to place the other in the saddle, and stood upright on his horse’s back. One lightning glance, that sbot like a dart straight to its mark, and he leaped to the ground again, shouting: “To horse! to horse! sweeping down upon us like the wind Catching Madeline off ber feet, he set her in her saddle before she bad time for a second breath. Leaving Sidney to perform the same office for Ruth, he bounded to his own place without using the stirrups. Sidney was used to situations where life and death were determined by the seizing upon or letting slip a second of time. He knew that when Old Buncomb sent forth such a note of warning, it was no time to palter, So witbout stopping to look for himself—there would be plenty of time for that when he was well in the saddle—he cried sharply: ** Maid!” And Ruth's little mare mai 1 to his side as promptly as if she had been a buman being, instead of a dumb brute. To swing a young lady, especially if she is pretty, from the ground to her saddle, is a very romantic thing; so it is a pity that all lovers are not equal to the task. Sidney confessed his inability by resting his hand, palm upward, on his knee. The lightness with which Ruth leaped to her seat, scarcely touching his hand with ber dainty foot, made it look as if it would have been an easy task. Even with life in the balance, her love was not lost in selfishness. ‘Oh! it breaks my heart to leave my poor little fawn! If I could only hold it in my arms!” But men’s hearts are of tougher material. No one answered her. Sidney’s eyes shot over the prairie as he bestrode his steed. Some distance out from the foot-bills, and the less clearly discernible because they were be- tween the eye and the sun, with the shadowed landscape at their backs, he saw a long line of horsemen, sweeping across the plain like a flock of wild ducks. His practiced eye told him that they were a band of Apaches, perhaps a hundred strong. It was evidently their purpose to throw for- ward their flanks, surround the group, and so take them all alive. At sight of the horsemen the girls were dis- mayed, and were on the point of lashing their horses into a perfect stampede-pace in the op- posite.direction, where, on the rim of the bori- zon, the verdure-clad hills wh'ch inclosed Glen Eden stood out in bold relief against the sky. ‘‘Keep cool!” cried Old Buncomb. ‘ We bave start enough to keep them at a safe dis- tance; and nothing is gained by frightening your horses.” sain rey. | to his dictation, they put their horses into the swinging lope with which the could cover mile after mile of the level prairie without abatement of speed. It was really very rapid, but it seemed agonizingly slow to the girls when from the rear was borne to their ears a chorus of furious yells. ‘i. a they will surely overtake us!” cried uth. But Madeline rode with closed lips. ‘““Do you think they intend to attack the glen?’ asked Sidney. “T do,” replied Old Buncomb. “*Then our people ought to be warned.” ‘*T was about to propose that.” “Couldn’t you leave the girls to me, and by veering off to the south, run the glen length- hie and reach the stockade about the time we id? Old Buncomb looked at bis companion and laughed. ‘** You're a cool youngster,” he said, The red devils are !
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Little Tornado, Little Tornado flushed quickly and hotly. ‘“Why? What's the matter with that pro- position?’ he asked, with brightening eye. * Oh, nothing. I was only admiring the grace with which you took the man’s part on yourself and gave me the boy’s.” ** Boy’s!” cried Little Tornado, now thorough- ly roused, for if anything in the world nettled him it was to be considered in anything short of manhood. And to have his youth thrown in his teeth in the hearing of Ruth Thurston! “If you call me a boy, I should like to know where you get your men?” Old Buncomb laughed again, a low, pro- longed chuckle. The air of this young bantam so tickled bis midriff that he forgot the probable effect of letting his amusement be seen. Little Tornado’s anger burst into a blaze. ‘You can look after your lady, and I will look after mine; and the glen can go to the—” ‘Oh, Sidney! Sidney!” broke in Ruth, shocked beyond words to tell. ‘Well, a man is made of flesh and blood, ain’t he? was Little Tornado’s defense, ‘*But then Mr. Bunker is older than’ you,” urged Ruth, gently. ‘Ob, yes! he’s old enough!” cried Little Tornado, with a chuckle on bis side, At that his sister flushed from chin to temple. ‘Sidney Fortescue, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!” she cried. ‘‘If you have a spark of manhood about you, you will apologize at once for such rudeness.” ‘*T haven’t—not a spark! Iam surprised that ou should expect it, after Old Buncomb hos Jost told you of my deficiency in that respect. 0, you see, he’s the last one to demand an apology on that score.” But Little Tornado was nowin that sort of good humor which we enjoy when we feel that we have given our neighbor as good as he sent. ‘* Sidney!” appealed little Ruth, very sine feeling worse and worse that he of whom she was generally so proud should ‘‘ behave so.” **Meanwhile,” said Miss Fortescue, with haughty displeasure, ‘‘the helpless women and children’ must be exposed to the most cruel of deaths, that your vanity—” ‘There! there! I’m off!” said Little Tornado, — the action tothe word, ‘ But -remem- ber,” he called back to Ruth, “I abandon you at your own bidding.” ; uth did not rep 4 in words, but gave him a look that ought to have healed any wounds he had received elsewhere. Whatever others might say, he was a hero to her! either of the ladies had dared to look at Old Buncomb, fearing to encounter a cloud of re- sentment on his face. But it was because they did not know him well. He was mightily de- _ lighted to have the ladies take his part so warm- y. ‘‘Don’t spare horse-flesh!” he called out to Little Tornado, pleasantly. ‘You’ve got a pa mount, Now let’s see you make it tell. member, women and children take more time to move than men.” “You sball be the judge!” answered Little Tornado, now yielding to the excitement of a contest; ‘‘and if you do the man’s part as well as I do the boy’s, we'll shake hands on it!” By this time his divergent course had in- creased the gap between them so as to preclude further conversation; but the distance was not too great for Ruth to flash a glance of grateful admiration over to him. Then he dug spurs into his horse’s flanks, and skimmed away over the rolling prairie like an albatross riding the ocean swells. His horse, with his muzzle thrust forward until his head was in a straight line with his neck, hugged the ground until be seemed to float on the tops of the coarse prairie grass, with his legs swinging free under him. Thus he clove the air like a thunderbolt, widening the gap between him and the pursuing savages, and preys over his course much more rapidly than his friends did over theirs, From time to time Little Tornado looked back to see how they were getting on, when suddenly he brought up with a ery of dismay, Something had happened to the other party. He could see but ove coursing ahead, now ata speed which showed that the horse was being ba to the utmost. he distance was too great to be sure of even the sex of the rider, though he thought ‘that he could now and then catch the flutter of a loose garment. : A moment later be discovered a second flyin figure, Here as before he seemed to make ou the flutter of a dress. Running his eye back and forth between the mouth of the pass for which they were making and the pursuing savages, he assured himself that these two figures were the only ones to be seen. What did this signify? If these were, the girls—and the fact that they were separated seemed to tell in that direction, for he knew that, while Old Buncomb was too well mounted to be left behind, he would not abandon either of bis charges, however hard beset—what had then become of the scout? And if the girls, which was lagging behind? In either case it meant sbarp pain for him, In such a strait who could make choice between sister and sweetheart? With a sinking heart, Little Tornado meas- ured the distance, and saw that it would be madness to attempt to reach them. The sav- ages, leaving him to go bis way, had kept straight on after the others, and were now nearer them than he was. His only hope was to keep on, flash through the glen from end to end, and meet them from the direction of the stockade, if it were not then too late! Setting his teeth, and bending forward until he oy lay along his borse’s neck, he now goaded him more fiercely, more persistently, than ever. Into the glen he dashed, discharging his re- volvers, one in either hand, and yelling at the top of bis lungs. en who were mowing hay, dropped the scythe and ran toward their houses, without waiting to make out exactly what he said. Otbers who were using horses, cut them loose from stone-boat or log-chain, leaped upon their backs, and lashed them with the ends of the reins, All knew Little Tornado, and that he would not spread such an alarm as this for a ‘‘ lark.” All in a moment this peaceful spot was turned into a pandemonium, Men shouted, women screamed, and children wailed with terror at the unwonted excitement of their elders, As an express train sucks dry_leaves after it .in the eddy which it makes, Little Tornado seemed to gather up armed men, who with their families followed on in his wake as fast as they could. Never was such a ride. The boy, half crazed with suspense, had arinihilated space and time. All was wild excitement bebind him; but his heart sunk as it appeared to him that the peace before was disturbed only by the sounds he fol- lowed almost as fast as they flew before him. . bbe had become of Old Buncomb—his sister —Ruth? CHAPTER IIL A RIDE FOR LIFE. WHEN Little Tornado had left his friends ata pace which carried him ahead of them as well as to the right, three pairs of eyes followed him gyreines o Although she had sided against him, as sisters a do, in his tilt with Old Buncomb, adeline could not help being proud of her brother, Old Buncomb cast a sly glance at Ruth, and saw her face aglow and her eyes sparkling. Then he said: “There isn’t his match, of his years, between the two oceans!” Ruth flashed a grateful look at the speaker, and crimsoned to the roots of her hair with. pleasure. “You are not—not—annoyed with him?” she ventured, timidly.’ “With Little Tornado?—a boy that I’m proud to call my pard? I guess not /” cried Old Bun- comb, heartily. “Oh, I’m so glad!” And with a swelling heart the little maiden drew nearer to the scout, and kept this place for the rest of their ride, It was fortunate for her that her generous heart prompted such a manifestation of grati- tude, for while they were in full course her horse stepped into a gopher-hole, and was thrown upon his head so that he turned a com- plete somerset. ; lt happened that Old Buncomb was lookin at her when the accident occurred, and wit the quickness of thought, for which men whose whole life consists in meeting emergencies im- possible to forecast become noted, be threw out his arm and snatched her from ber saddle to his horse’s withers. As the little mare went oe to the earth Madeline uttered a scream of fright, and reined in her own horse, shuddering at the thought of seeing her companion crushed beneath the fall- ing weight of horse-flesh. But instead of a bloody and dirt-disfigured corpse, a flutter of skirts, as Old Buncomb swept by her, showed her pretty Rutb, somewhat tumbled, but other- wise her rosy self, in his arms. ‘* Keep on!” he shouted. ‘‘ We are all right.” Dazed by the sudden alternation between peril and safety, and by the yell of delight that went up from a bundred savage throats, Made- line spurred ber horse up to the pair. Old Buncomb was almost choked by the con- vulsive hug with which terrified Ruth clun about his neck; but he seemed very well pleased with that part of the programme, Albeit not a man to trifle in the face of their great peril, yet he sought to impart confidence to the girls who were so dependent on his cool- ness, by making light of the matter. So he said teasingly to Ruth, who was sob- bing and shuddering with horror at her narrow escape: ’ t wonien if you would take itso much to heart, if it were Little Tornado with his arm about you, instead of arough old codger like me?’ Heigho! that’s the disadvantage of not being ouvg and handsome! But I am glad that he s not where hecan.see me. I shall have to bribe his sister not to tell him. It, is not so much that I object to being shot; but it would be a thousand pities to spoil his lovely com- plexion, by baving him turn green with jealousy and livid with nt OY ‘Oh, you. horrid thing!” cried little Ruth, who from being as wan as any lily with fear, now rivaled the very peonies with her blushes. ‘Waal! waal! hbere’s gratitude for you,” cried Old Buncomb, with mock indignation, ‘“‘Tve risked being shot by that hot-headed young pirate, just that you might escape get- ting your dress dirty: and you tell me to my face that I am a horrid thing! If I ever—” ‘But you are! I say it again!” pouted Ruth. ‘Even saving my life—I don’t deny that I owe everything to you—but does it give you the right to laugh at me? I havea mind to jump down—” ‘“‘ And walk home, Ha! ha! ha!” Then he turned to Madeline and said, looking steadily at her, to show that there was more in his words than appeared on the surface: ‘* Ride ahead, Miss Madeline, and get the glen out to see the champion lady walkist. ell them that we guarantee to show some of the tallest getting over the ground on record, You'll have to ,be arsbat that horse can stand it—or we sha ) so close bebind you that the performance will be over before the audience gets seated.” Madeline shot @ lightning glance of inquiry into his eyes. Was there real danger to him and Ruth? Did he fear that his horse, with its double load, might be overtaken? ‘Was she being sent forward to summon help? He saw by the sudden blanching of her face, by the spasmodic quiver that ran through her form, by the quick parting of the lips, by the speaking eyes, that she comprehended bim. 1t was lucky that, as she sat before Old Bun- comb, Ruth’s back was toward Madeline, so: that she did not see these suspicious symp- toms. After a mighty effort to stifle the scream that struggled for utterance in her throat, Madeline gained control of her voice sufficiently not to startle Ruth as she said: “Seriously, they ought to be warned to have the stockade in readiness, This horse is not doing half what he is equal to. Why shouldn’t I as well as my brother do something to increase the chances of. those poor peo le? might get enough men together to hold the savages in check in the pass, while those who are furthest from the stockade would have so much more time to reach it.” While speaking she urged her horse ahead, so that when Ruth ‘quickly turned her head she might not see the white face that belied these brave words. , “Oh! are you going to leave us?” she cried, her eyes flying wide with dismay, before she had time to think of anything but the terror of being last in that fearful race for life. . But instantly her generous heart sacrificed self to the needs of others; and she cried, re- morsefully: “Ob yes! dogo! Don’t losea moment! You can’t do us any good by delaying; and you may be the means of saving the little chil ren andtheir mothers, who will be so frightened that they will hardly know which way to run, 8 you, you dear, brave Maddie!” Madeline did not look round. She dared not! She felt as if her heart would burst, It might be the last time she would ever hear the voice of her loved friend, It might be the last.
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she would ever see of either her or Old Bun- comb— Ah! Old Buncomb! that made her sick and dizzy with a swooning of the beart which was different from her grief for her friend, ee and sincere though it was. ith set teeth and gaze fixed upon that open- ing in the bills where life seemed to beckon her forward, while deat pursued bard upon her heels, freezing her with the shadow it cast be- fore, she goaded her horse until every muscle was strained to the utmost and every tendon was tense as the string of a steel bow, and so besought Heaven in dry-eyed agony to stretch forth a succoring hand, and pluck her loved ones from the cruel death that menaced them! Bebind her, Ruth clung more closely about Old Buncomb’s neck, now that she realized that he was ber sole dependence; and gazing over his shoulder at the red devils who divided their time between lashing their horses and brand- ishing their weapons, gazing at them with wildly-dilaced eyes, and blood-curdling shud- ders that seemed to begin at her extremities and end ina spasm in her heart, she asked, in @ quavering whisper close to his ear, as if fear- ful that she might be overheard even at that distance: nage they as far behind as at the start? Oh, ook Old Buncomb glanced over his shoulder, and replied, with a cheerful ring of assurance in his "voice: “‘ Don’t be afraid, little one! We are holding our own; and that is all we want. Let them come on! They’ll get more cracked crowns than half-peuce at the Glen Eden mint! That’s the kind of coin we turn out there for the Government pets!” At every bound Madeline gained upon both friends and foes, until when she had reached within four or five miles of the glen, her heart ‘was brought into her mouth by the sight of some one riding out from among the hills to- ward her. Tearing loose a red scarf which she wore sabowt her waist as an ornament, she waved it above her head and cried out at the top of ber Jungs, though she knew that the distance was far too great to be leaped by her woman’s voice. Instead of going back to summon aid, as she wished, and thus saving the time it would take to traverse that stretch of prairie, the rider evidently took it as a signal of distress calling auupon bim personally to come to the relief of the -doubly burdened and lagging horse; for he dug spurs into bis horse’s flanks, and dashed forward vat a pace that showed that the avimal he be- «strode was a good one and fresb Madeline could bave cried with vexation. ‘Go back!ego back!” she shouted again and again, trying to convey her wish by dropping her scarf and waving him away with the palm of ber hand toward him. But the distance was so great that he mistook this repellent gesture for beckoning him to ‘hasten; and so redoubled bis efforts. “Oh! for mercy’s sake, go back!” cried Ma- deline, when be bad come within sound of her agonized voice. ‘Get all the men you ean to come through the pass and check the savages. Go! go! Your horse is fresher than mine.” The man wheeled bis horse and rode beside her, crying excitedly: “Won't it be better to go and lighten Old Buncomb of his load? We kin make a flyin’ «change, an’ lose no time.” Had this been another like Old Buncomb, or ber brotber, she would not bave hesitated to let him carry out his plan; but, albeit a good-heart- ed rustic, he was unfortunately clumsy, as some otherwise excellent people are; and she shud- dered at the thought of intrusting her friend's life to bis skill in so ticklish a maneuver as «changing a woman from one horse’s back to an- otber at full speed. However the decision that she was called ‘upon to make was so momentous tbat she hesi- a I to take the whole responsibility on her- self, “Look back,” she said. “Is Mr. Bunker signaling you?” She was confident that if Old Buncomb want- ed personal help, be would find some way of making his wish known. “No,” answered the young farmer, when he had looked over his shoulder. “Then do not lose another moment! Push abead as fast as you can, and get the men out— half a dozen will be better than delaying too long for more—to meet us in the pass, After P be bave got abead of me, so that it will be seen w 1 have directed you, you can look round; oe ee aes 5 ear ae ee a ne a i ae Little Tornado. and if Mr. Bunker wants you to act differently, he will call you back,” ‘You've got a bead on your shoulders, Miss Fortescue!” exclaimed the rustic, in a burst of | admiration; and then, without waiting to see how his compliment was received, he plunged the rowels into the quick flesh and dashed for- | ward on bis mission. She was rejoiced to see how much fresher his | horse was than her own, and reflected that of course the Indians labored under the same dis- advantage. He made the pass nearly a mile in advance of her, and when she came up she could hear— | though the intervening trees cut off her view— | the sounds of excitement in the glen, which showed that he had faithfully executed his | trust. Then came to her the prompting of kindly | charity. “I can add nothing to what he has already done,” she said to herself. ‘ But I shall have | time to warn Wild Zeph and her mother. In | the general excitement they will probably be forgotten, living as they do outside of the glen.” As she entered the pass she looked back. About midway between her and the Indians, Old Buncomb, though his horse was laboring painfully, seemed to be holding his own with the foremost of his pursuers. That they kept on at full speed was no evidence that they yet hoped to overtake him; for it would still be their aim to reach the glen while it was in the confusion of a surprise. “Yes, I shall have ample time,” reflected | Madeline; and she waved her scarf encourag- ingly to her friends as she disappeared from their view among the trees. A moment later a bandful of mounted men swept by her. They did not stop for any inter- change of words, but cheered her as they passed, Had any of them Jooked back,they might have seen her wheel sharply into a bridle-path, to be swallowed up by the dense foliage. But for want of this knowledge, they naturally supposed that she had kept on to the stockade, where she would be in safety. Before they reached the mouth of the pass they heard the report of a rifle—then another, and another, and another—following at rhyth- mic intervals. ‘*That’s a repeating rifle,” exclaimed one of the men. At that instant they burst through the mouth of the pass, in full view of the open prairie, with its background of soaring peaks, on the apex of one of which the sun rested like a star in the diadem of a goddess. It wasa majestic stage, fit for the enactment of one of those awful tragedies with which man’s devilish ferocity has filled the earth from the beginning. Although the sun was in their eyes, the chase was now near enough so thatall the participants could be ge Ke made out. Reeking with sweat and flecked with foam that flew from his muzzle at every gasping breath, Old Buncomb’s noble steed still bore on ata heavy gallop. Behind him came the Apaches, the line spread out transversely, with which they bad begun the chase, now drawn together, so that, seen in perspective, they looked like a compact body, though in fact they were considerably strung out over the plain. They were led by one who, riding witb his bridle rein banging on the neck of bis horse, brought a rifle to his shoulder at every few leaps, and the cloud of white smoke that for an instant hid bis face, to be pierced at the next bound, was followed by the sharp report which told that anotber leaden messenger of death had winged its flight. _At sight of his friends, Old Buncomb held up his hand, signaling them to stop. They drew rein in instant obedience. On the border, men learn to depend upon one another's judgment. “That devil’s tryin’ his luck at Jong range,” said one of the men. ‘t Let Old Buncomb alone to know whether the bullets is singin’ too cluss about his ears. Y u bet be ain’t takin’ no resks with the commandant’s daughter; an’ ef he says hold off, it’s becuz thar ain’t no call fur our puttin’ in.” “Gents, d’ye notice anythin’ curi’s about the cuss that’s doio’ all this hyar shootin’?” “No. What's the matter with him?” “ He ain’t no Injun. ye onderstand,” At this announcement in a confident tone, the men shaded their eyes and peered more narrow- ly at the foremost pursuer, Then followed ejaculations of surprise and es To oie in ata Ba be: oe ee a ay : - or fig Shs Bip) ripe eae ee bya i 5 deep resentment. The renegade to his race is loathed where a natural enemy is only hated. But Old Buncomb was now so near at band that bis friends set up a cheer, in the midst of which he dashed through the opening in their ranks which they made for his reception, avd they closed in about him. “It is Colorado Steve,” he said, ‘‘ And Isup- pose that Mexican devil is witb him. To the | stockade, men! We're going to bave hot work to-night.” The men cheered Ruth, and she smiled—a plaintive little smile—and thanked them. But at this moment a borseman, wild-eyed and haggard with distress, came down tbe pass, goading his horse to a breakneck pace, at sight of whom Ruth cried, hysterically: ‘Papa! papa! ob, my darling papa!” It was indeed the commandant. He wheeled to the side of Oid Buncomb, and caught the band that bis child held out to him, “Thank God! thank God!’ he cried, in 4 choking voice. ‘I have my child still, safe and well! How can I ever repay you for what you have done for me to-day?” And having kissed again and again the little hand he beld in spite of the uneven motion of the horses as they galloped on, and left a tear on it, he put his hand with grateful affection on Old Buncomb’s shoulder. But Ruth was too overflowing with talk to allow Old Buncomb a chance to reply, if he felt disposed, ‘And did Maddie tell you how be saved me from being killed outright Y a terrible fall, when poor Maid broke her leg? I think she must have done so, for she Was unable to get u aid ‘‘ Madeline?” repeated Mr. Thurston. “I have not seen her. I was away from home when the terrible news of your peril was brought me. I feared that I should never see my darling’s smile again!” “ Poor, dear papa! been so well cared daughter?” And she blushed with plogsre to see how much interest had centered in her safety. But ber measure was not yet full, or rather it was to still more lavishly brim over; for while she spoke another rider was seen to ap- proach, in as agonized suspense as her father had displayed, This time it was Little Tornado; and he too would have one of her hands; and in Lis beart wanted to relieve Old Buncomb of ber alto- gether, but that it would bave been a rather un- gracious thing to rob the hero of the bour of the honor of bearing ber into the stockade as he bad borne her so long and so well in the teeth of the enemy. Even as it was, so impetuously and so openly did be urge his claim upon her, that, crimson with confusion, she was fain to snatch her hand away; while the men by whom she was sur- rounded grinned with enjoyment of the scene. But ber father smiled very kindly upon the young scamp, for all that! So, in a body, they dashed up to the stockade, into which the men of Glen Eden were burry- ing their women and children like a lot of flut- tering geese. ° ‘* But where’s Maddie?’ was Ruth’s demand, the moment she was set upon her feet. As she ran through the gate into the inclosure, she looked about for ber friend, surprised that she was not at hand to meet her. There was another who entered as eagerly ex- pectant, If it is necessary to say that it was Old Buncomb, then we have told our story so far to little purpose. His only anxiety was to learn how bravely the girl bore up sgainst the terri- ble strain that had been laid upon ber. But when Ruth repeated her questlon, and Madeline still failed to appear and answer for herself, a sense of fear smote home to his heart. Still his only thought was that she might have been prostrated in the reaction after that long suspense. But when it appeared that no one had seen her after the squad of men who met her in the pass, then he was stricken witb dis- may, and ran to the gate of the stockade. There he was met by a vision that froze the blood in his veins! CHAPTER IV. WILD ZEPH. Tue bridle-path down which Madeline urged ber borse led to the shores of a lakelet embayed by the hills, yet fronting on the prairie. Into it flowed the water-courses that irrigated the glen, and out of it meandered a streamlet across = plain to its confluence with the Canadias ver. But have all our people for as your foolish little
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ee ae SS - Little Tornado. AE a EN 0 yn Sr nn ~ On its beach la construction, an deerskin thong tied to its handle—such an instrument as is commonly used by Indians; hag near at hand hung a net and some fishing- ines, Up to the door of this but rode Madeline, and rapped upon it with the butt of ber whip, cry- ing: “Zeph! Zeph! Open the door instantly! You are in peril of your life!” No sound replied to her urgent summons, **Dear! dear! she must be away from home!” exclaimed Madeline. ‘‘But I cannot manage her mother alone, if she isin one of her obstinate gpa she issure tobe! What shall 1 uo? A moment she hesitated, listening for sounds of the chase. which she knew was approaching on the wings of the wind, Then her geverous impulses triumphed over her fears, and leaping from her horse, she thrust open the door and entered. The hut was without fireplace or window, and contained not so much furniture asa stool. The earthen floor was covered with mats of braided rushes, save in the center, where three stones had their use indicated by the ashes lodged in their miust, as well as by a pot, smoky without and greasy within, which stood beside them, In one corner was a thicker layer of rushes covered with coyote skins. On this rude bed lay an Indian woman, on ber back, with ber black eyes wide open, and fixed immovably on the ceiling. She was so haggard and wrinkled that she looked like a skeleton covered with time-worn leather. She was covered with an old, tattered and dirty army blanket; but her skinny arms lay outside parallel beside her body. Springing to the side of this old hag, yet in- stinctively gathering her skirts so that they should not touch the floor as she stooped, Ma- deline seized her by the shoulder and shook her, crying: a <a get up and come to the stockade, : A crowd of Apaches—you know that they are at war with your people—are coming to attack the glen. There is not a moment to lose. Even now we may be too late. Whereis Zeph? Oh! will you not listen to me?” But she might as well have appealed to one of the stone effigies carved on an old-time tomb. The hag lay as unresponsive as if she werea paralytic. Knowing that this was sheer sullenness, ex- traordinary instances of which are not uncom- mon among all uncivilized races, Madeline was loth to leave her to the consequences of her perversity. But she must not forget that her own safety hung upon the chance of a moment. After several] fruitless efforts to win her at- tention, the girl became conscious that the doorway was darkened by some one whose ap- proach she had not heard. Whirling round with almost a shriek of ter- ror, sbe stood faco to face with the beautiful half-breed whom the reader will remember as having watched the departure of the Outcasts of the Glen with manifestations of profound melancholy. A word will tell who and what she was. After the settlers had sown their grain, and while they were building their houses, she one day made her appearance among them, offer- ing fish in exchange for anything they would give her. Her beauty at once made ber entbu- siastic friends, and when it was found that she had pitched a tepee on the border of the lake, it was resolved to adopt her into the community if she could be induced to become a fixture. The men built her a hut, consisting of but four walls and a roof, yet a better protection against the weather than her tepee, with the promise that they would improve it as soon as they had more time: while the women gave her civilized clothes—which her old hag mother could not be induced to share—and took turns trying to en- lighten her heathen ignorance of the Shorter techism and the Four Gospels. She now stood bolt upright in the doorway, looking steadily and in silence at the maiden who had risked ber life to warn her and her mother. “Oh, Zeph!” cried Madeline, springing to- ward her with a look of relief, But the imperious half-breed lifted her hand with so repellent a frown that Made- line shrunk back with astonishment and appre- pennies. _' ._ * Why, what is the matter?” she cried, lift- her to her breast, where her heart was a flat-bottomed scow of rude a little way from the water’s ‘edge stood a hut among the trees, against the wall of which leaned a one-tined spear, with a pairs so wildly that it nearly suffocated er. ‘* Why are you here?” demanded Wild Zeph, still barring the door with her person. ‘*T came to warn you and your mother of the terrible danger that is rushing down upon us all. A perfect swarm of Apaches are chasing Mr. Bunker and Ruth Thurston across the prai- rie to attack the glen. 1 have been trying to persuade your mother to get up and go with me to the stockade, Oh, Zeph! do not stand there wasting time! They will be here in a moment!” ““ We will not go to the stockade,” said Wild Zeph, firmly. _* Tben you must let me go without you,” said Madeline, despairing at this new opposition. ‘‘Hark! Do you not hear their yells? Ob, we shall all be lost?” And she sprung toward the door, never dreaming that ber passage would be contested. But it was. Wild Zeph had repelled her im- ulsive approach with her uplifted left band. Yow her ri, ht appeared from bebind ber, It flew up until it flanked her bead, holding a glit- tering knife, the point of which menaced the girl who sought to pass her. ‘* You will not go to the stockade!” she said, as firmly as before, ‘“Merciful Heaven! what do you mean?” cried Madeline, sbrinking back in white-lipped terror. ‘**That we will not go to the stockade,”.said the half-breed, as impassively as if she were a parrot or a talking machine, “Oh! but you cannot detain me/ You have no right to detain me! You dare not detain me!” panted Madeline, with agonized itera- tion. ‘* Your people have the right of the weakest, said the half-breed, with a sneering smile. ‘* My people”—and her eyes blazed and her head was lifted proudly—‘‘bave the right of the strongest!” There was no misunderstanding such a pre- sentation of the case as this. Madeline stared at her breathlessly, afraid to take up the challenge that glittered in her eyes andspckein the hand that clutched the mur- derous knife, It was the thought of blood that unnerved her—this girl who dared risk death to save a re of strangers of an alien race. “Listen a moment,” she urged, trying to hold in restraint the wild terror that shook her, and speak in the soothing tones of conciliation. “You cannot have understood me. We are all in danger from the Apaches, you as well as I, and I have come to save you and vour mother.” ‘* Let them come,” said Wild Zeph, unmoved. ‘But I? You cannot wish to include me in your destruction! What have I ever done to you, Zeph? Have I not even now risked every- thing todo youa kindness? And your mother —it was to save herthatIcame. Oh! you can- not be so ungrateful as to wish me to suffer for my very goodness to you! And such cruelties!— worse than the most terrible death! Ob, Zepb! Zeph! where is your heart—your bumanity!” nd losing all command over her emotion, in view of the horrible pictures of suffering ber fancy painted—pictures too faithfully realized in the ruthless warfare waich marks the death- grapple of the two races, the weaker of which is being slowly yet surely strangled, though in its death throes it rends its adversary cruelly— Madeline extended her hands in piteous suppli- cation, All this while, the bag, though perfectly aware of what was going on, never so much as moved an eyelid, ‘Stand back!” commanded the half-breei, clutching her knife more firmly, and once more raising it above ber head, while her eyes glit- tered with a bate that seemed as if it must scorch like lightning wherever her glance fell, ** Zeph!—dea? Z-ph!” So does fear make sycophants of us all! ‘Stand back, I say!” So does bate repudiate every claim of grati- tude or bumanity! ‘‘Oh!—my borse! my horse!” For at this moment, as Old Buncomb sur- rounded by the settlers came dashing up the | pass, the animal that had been tossing its head, rolling its eyes, picking its ears forward, and suuffing the air, yielded to the excitement under which it bad chafed, wheeled, and sped down the bridle-path to join its kind. “‘T am lost!—I am lost!” cried Madeline, wildly. ‘Out of my path! You shall not stop me!” nd reckless of the immediate danger she sprung forward, to force a passage to freedom. Instead of executing the menace of her i Wild Zeph dropped the weapon, and grappl with her prisoner. Her strong rigbt arm she threw about Made- line’s waist. The left she thrust under her arm, and clutching ber hair from behind, drew her bead back uniil her pure white throat was strained so as to make a straight line from the end of her chin to her breast, while her eyes glared with strangulation. - A terrible struggle ensued; tor Madeline, be- sides being strong, was goaded to frenzy by fear. But it was the struggle of the hare with the fangs of the hound in its throat. Wild Zeph fought with set teeth and bard, relentless eyes—with the silent ferocity of a bull-dog, which never loosens its grip while there is a quiver in its victim! Thrusting her chin against the smooth, round throat that the had laid open to this painful at- tack, she tightened ber arm about the slender waist, and forced Madeline backward until she wht ey over the stones which we have de- scribed as forming a fireplace in the middle of the floor. So they fel] to the ground together, the balf-breed uppermost, cat so close beside the shakedown upon which the old hag lay that one of Madeline’s flying arms struck her. She never moved! CHAPTER V. AT THE GATE OF THE STOCKADE. Ir was not that the Apaches at that moment made their appearance, pouring through the pass, hideous in the barbaric paraphernalia of their warfare; but it was that before them careered a horse with an empty saddle!—Made- line’s horse! ““My God!” cried Old Buncomb, with the agony of a strong man. ‘‘Men! men! I tell you that the girl never reached the stockade!” Then wheeling around upon his companions, he stretched forth his hands in piteous appeal, crying: ‘*Forward with me to the rescue! If there is a spark of manhood here, let 20 one stay behind!” And turning about, he was on the poms of leaping through the gate, let who would follow when he was seized by friends/who were coo enough to see that such an act would be suicidal, while others shut the heavy barrier and drop- ped the ponderous oaken bar into its iron slots, He neither heard nor heeded the Babel of cries with which he was appealed to on all sides. He shook them off. and whirled upon them with so gbastly a face, such blazing eyes, that they quailed before the lava tide of his emotion; while through his voice quavered such cadences of anguish as told how mighty was the love of this man, usuajly so cool and unconcerned, for the girl in whose bebalf he now appealed to them, “God in heaven!” he cried, with terrific energy, ‘‘nre we to leave her to her fate?” ‘‘Bunk«r! Bunker! this is madness!” shouted Mr. Thurston, putting bis hand on the shoulder of the frenzied man. ‘‘ Do you suppose that we are not distressed, with you? But there are women and children here who must not be abandoned for so hopeless—” “Old man! dare you stand to argue the case with me? DidI not bring you your daughter? What more do you require? Nothing!—noth- ing!” witha withering sneer. And then; ‘‘ Stand out of my way!” And with a sweep of his powerful arm, he hurled him away. While this was going forward, a woman with streaming hair and pain-drawn face came rush- ing forward, stretching forth her hands, and crying: f *« Madeline! My daughter, Madeline! Where's Madeline! In God’s name, has no one seen her? Ob! lam a poor heart-broken motber! What shall I do?—what shall I do?” Thus wailing and moaning and wringing her hands, she espied Little Tornado, and rushing up to him, seized hold of him with both shaking bands. ‘¢Sidney! Sidney! where is your sister? Oh! do not tel] me that you have not found her!” Thus far Little Tornado had stood dum- founded. He had been told that it was Mad- eline who had brought the intelligence of the perilous situation in which she had left Ruth and Old Buncomb. He had taken it for grant- ed that she had found refuge in the stockade. Only stopping to see bis mother on her way to the same haven of security, he bad sped down the pass to meet Ruth and her savior, “She must be here—somewhere about!” he cried, helplessly. ‘‘ Where else could she, he?: TT. tt ee ee, SS tate Sh, atk a tet on ae « -— ™
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You have not looked. Why bave you not call- ed to her? Madeline! Madcline!” And lifting his voice, through which ran a quiver of terror, he shouted ber name in tones that must have been heard in any part of the stockade, even above all the hubbub that made it a very Babel. Further than this, he was about to rush through the place in search of her, when a trampling of many hoofs drowned in a myriad- throated yell announced that the foe had ar- rived at the very gateway without. Hearing this, the mother threw up her hands with a prolonged, quivering “0 0-h/” as if ao arrow had pierced to her heart. This drama between mother and son took place concurrently with the commandant’s.\vain effort to recall Old Buncomb to reason. Seeing her, the scout seized oue of her wrists, to arrest her attention, and cried: “T will fetch your daughter back to you!” The distracted mother caught his hanc with both her own, and pressing it against her ach- ing bosom, murmured: “God bless you, Mr. Bunker! you to save her!—I know He willl eannot afflict me so sorely! O-o-h! O-0-h!” And her distress ended in long-drawn wails of unspeakable anguish. _Maddened by this grief in concert with which his own heart bled, Old Buncomb sprung to the gate, snatched the bar from its fastenings, pushed open the barricade—which of course swung outward—and leaped through, into the ghd teeth of the savages who swarmed before it. All this was done so suddenly that the be- sieged stood breathless with every barrier swept from between their cowering wives and chil- dren and the bloodthirsty foe. But fea# is a mightier weapon than force; and so terrific was Oid Buncomb’s onslaught, firing rapidly with a revolver in either hand, that the savages reined their horses round as on pivots; and for a moment there wasa general Salepene, with flying heels and whisking ils. However, there was a man at their head who never seemed to get excited. Colorado Steve saw that Old Buncomb was not the leader of a sortie, as the savages expected from this bold throwing open of the gate; and jumping at the chance to capture him before any one came to his support, he wheeled his horse so as to get between him and the gate. In this maneuver he was quickly followed by Senor Ramirez and several of the Indians who had their wits under better control; and it looked as if Old Buncomb, who, heedless of the trap, seemed determined to cut his way through the confused crowd, was doomed to capture. But love for his friend spurred Little Tornado to activity. “Charge!” he shouted. ‘‘So good a man must not be lost so foolishly !” And he too leaped through the yawning gate- He will help Ob, He O-o-h! way. ‘Foolhardiness, like true heroism, is conta- gious, With a yell the whole force of the glen rushed after the boy, with only a vague idea “Ep they were to rout the savages at a single ow. But Little Tornado was not so infatuated as to expect such a miracle. He had a far more practicable object in view—to rescue bis friend and get back before the enemy could regain control of their horses, which were riding one another down in wild confusion. Colorado Steve leaped from his horse, and springing upon Old Buncomb from the rear, dealt him a stunning blow on the head with the butt of his revolver. He then stooped and picked him up from the ground where he had fallen unconscious, evidently with the purpose of rushing among the savages with him beyond the reach of his friends. But he should have looked to his own defense. Little Tornado was upon bim with a rush that justified his name. @ He, however, in turn, had his enemy—no less a person than Senor Ramirez, who tried to ride him down. But with lightning dexterity he dodged the horse, and seizing the Spaniard by the foot, pitched him out of his saddle in fine style, giving him an ugly fall, that came with- in an ace of breaking bis precious neck! He then made a second rush at Colorado Steve, who was by this time upright and ready to dash with his burden into the thick of the crowd of his allies. In his bout with Ramirez Little Tornado had dropped his revolver, so that he now had nothing but his naked hands to depend upon. Little Tornado. There was no time to make nice points. What was to be done must be done on the instant and be effective. So Little Tornado dove with his head between the giant’s legs, overturning him as if he had been struck by a battering-ram. The fall broke his hold on Old Buncomb; and making everything el% second to the rescue of his friend, our hero caught him by the shoul- ders, and by a skillful tug and wriggle, man- aged to get him on bis back. To run with him in this fashion to the gate, while his masterly retreat was covered by his friends, was a task much more easy to admire than to execute. But it was effected; and al- most in a twinkling the besieged were again in security, with the gate shut between them and their foes, In this neatly-managed sortie no lives were lost on either side, though some ugly wounds were borne away , as mementoes of as brisk a lit- tle scrimmage us border warfare can boast. Had the Indians been on foot, instead of mounted on horses rendered unmanageable by panic, the issue might not have been so happy. During that breathless moment while all of their lives hung in the balance, Ruth bad clung to Mrs, Fortescue, while following her son with agonized vision. “ See! see!” she cried, dragging the mother forward, while with one extended arm and forefinger she pointed out Little Tornado, as, bent under the burden of Old Buncomb’s body, he dashed toward the gate. ‘Ob! is he not brave and strong? Is he nota hero? Sidney! Sidney! oh, how delighted I am!” She was foremost in his thoughts. He bad a purpose in view; but her glad cry told him thet it was already accomplished, Still he kept on until he could drop his burden at her feet. Then in her love and admiration, and the relief of having him back safe and sound, forgetful of the eyes that might be upon ber, she caught hold of bim and hid her tearful face in bis breast. “Tiere!” exclaimed our hero, in a tone of deep satisfaction, ‘‘ When he comes round, he will at least know that his boy takes men’s sizes in boots and howie-knives, When he lost his bead, it was his boy that bad to save him from the consequences of his madness. And, little girl,” he added, bending so as to bring his lips close to her ear, ‘‘I had you in mind. l’ve paid him off dollar for dollar for saving you; so we don’t owe him anything on that score.” ‘¢O! don’t speak to me like that, when no one knows what poor Maddie may be suffering. It seems wicked,” whispered sensitive little Ruth, shrinking from her lover, because of the thrill of happiness which the love that vibrated in his voice sent through her, in spite of all of the pain and fear of the moment. “ And re- member, it was for her that he rushed into such awtul peril.” Little Tornado flushed scarlet. ‘€ And do you think,” he cried, with a quiver of hurt sensibilities in his voice, ‘* that I am less concerned than be at my sister's loss—” ‘“Ob, no! no!” Ruth hastened to*_ rpose. “Because,” he kept on, “I k wheu a thing is impracticable? Is it more pruissw orthy to rush to certain suicide, from which no pos- sible good can come, than to wait for an open- ing in which something may be accomplished? Show me the chance to give my life for my sister’s, if you doubt the strength of my love for her; but don’t ask me to throw it away when I may yet—” “Oh, hush! hush!” sobbed little Ruth. ‘‘ Can’t you see that I think you have both done nobly?” _ “ What a brute Lam!” cried Little Tornado, in deep disgust. ‘My confounded temper is always making me ride over you rough-shod, om were a two-fisted plug—ugly like my- self! “T know you never mean to hurt me,” said the generous little Ruth; and their peace was made, Meanwhile a rattling fire through the loop- holes of the stockade had driven the assailants from the immediate vicinity to cover, Then there was a cessation of hostilities while the shades of evening gathered, They w«re evi- dently waiting for the darkness to begin their attack. _ But that they were not spending the time in idleness was soon made apparent. As the night fell, flames shot up in every direction, and look- ing on with set teeth, flashing eyes and hearts swelling with impotent rage, the settlers saw their homes and their crops—the first yield of the glen, and just ready for the sickle—given over to the fire-fiend, But Madeline! 7 it. a oe CHAPTER VI. INDIAN JEALOUSY. Witp Zepu immediately got up. Madeline lay hbalf-stunned by her fall, and strangling with the excruciating pain in her throat; but the moment she felt herself released she struggled to her feet, her spirit not yet broken. Wild Zepb stood in her path as before, with a look of alert defiance in her face, out of which the malignancy of hatred bad passed, without being replaced by a smile, She hailed this con- test as a rare diversion. Madeline might have made one more desperate effort: but at that moment the Apaches swarm- ed through the pass, loading the air with their yells and the rattle of firearms. The girl stood rigid,s aring into vacancy, with ner whole horrified soul centered in the one sense of hearing. So passed a breathless moment. Then came the shock of the collision at the gate of the stockade, She read the significance of this, Her friends were so bard beset that there was no hope of succor from them. Even if in the mad confu- sion of the moment they had yet thissed her, who would dream of searching for her here? She remembered that the settlers had passed her be- fore she entered the bridle-path. They would testify that she had gone on toward the stock- ade. It would be believed that sbe bad gone to her home in her anxiety for the safety of her mother, and had so delayed until it was too late to get back to the stockade. ut was that ker only chance? There was the prairie in the other direction; and the night was close at band! If she could but escape this mad- woman, sbe might make her way toa military post, some twenty miles to the northward! She need not even traverse the distance on foot. There were borses picketed to grass on the plains to the eastward of the bills thet shut in the glen. The Indians would have no knowledge of these. and she might skirt the hills to the north until she gained a point nearly opposite to where she now was, secure a mount, and by morning be safe at the post, besides sending assistance to her friends. Stimulated by this hope of being of service to those she loved, her face brightened, and she glanced about in search of some weapon with which she might attack her detainer. Standing coldly observant, Wild Zeph guessed that ber prisoner meditated a renewal of the struggle. She followed tbe quick glances which found nothing that would serve as a weapon save the stones of the fireplace. Advancing with the springy lightness of a appa she put her foot on the one nearest adeline, and smiled at her defiantly. Convinced that she would be overmatched in a purely physical encounter, Madeline once more resorted to persuasion. “‘ Zeph,” she said, ‘‘ there may yet be time for me to escape. Why do you oppose me? What have I ever done to you, that you should wish to take so bitter a revenge upon me?” “Done!” repeated the Indian girl, while her bosom Ceaiads her eyes blazed, and her nostrils dilated and quivered. ‘‘ What have you not done?” “Why, I bave never harmed Foe or yours. I have always shown you kindness instead. Who has given you more or tried to teach you more than I?” Th> half-breed laughed with bitter scorn. “Ay!” she cried, ‘‘ You would teach me out of your good book, as you call it, to love my enemies. Well, I hate miue!--hate them witha hot, fiery anger compared with which the prai- rie fire is a cool wind from the north!—hate them as the cougar hates the dogs that have come to bunt it to death!” “But I, Zeph!—I am not your enemy!” “You /” pursued the half-breed, not heeding her interruption, but now shaking her fist at her, as she gave the rein to her passions, “* you I hate so bitterly, that your simple death would not be to me so much as a drop of water on the tongue of a man dying of thirst on the Staked Plain! How does he famish for water? He would drink it bythe bucketful—by the barrel- ful! He would swim in it!—he would drown himself in it, so that he might get his fill! So do I ravin for my revenge on you, you accursed of an accursed race!—you traitor of the treach- erous whites! Death/ I will that you die a hundred deaths a day for a bundred moons, and that that be but a beginning!” Stunned by this torrent of invective poured over her like a tide of burning lava, Madeline could only plead: aor Seman ar SSR
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Little Tornado. ‘ But why ?—in Heaven’s name, why? What | ble sight that must presently appear at the door- have I ever done to you but kindness? “Ob, you have been kind to me!” cried Zeph, with asneer so scathing that it seemed as if the words must hiss as they left her lips. ‘**‘ You have lulled me with sweet words, that you might under cover of them steal my heart out of my body and put a tarantula in its place!” ‘But explain yourself. You cannot put your finger on a thing—” ‘*Why did you come to this country? Was there not enough for you in the miles and miles and miles of woodland and pastureland, of farm- land and hunting-range, of mountain and prai- rie, that stretches so tar toward the rising sun that the fleetest horse could not traverse it in Many moons?” ‘* But how has my coming injured you?” * Ask Colorado Steve!” In three words she told her secret; and the furious rush of passion so suddenly lapsed into a wail of anguish, as tears sprung to her eyes and her features writhed in pain, that Madeline | stared at her for a moment open-mouthed, Then a wave of hope swept over her with such overwhelming force that her head swam | round with vertigo, and she half-sunk, half-fell upon her knees, ‘* Listen to me, Zeph!—listen!” she pleaded. “Oh, lam weary of listening to you,” cried the half-breed, impatiently, waving her off. **But you must hear me, for your own sake as well as for mine, I declare to you that I have never sought to wrong you in the way you think. Colorado Steve is nothing tome. I have never so much as spoken to him. Far from wishing to win him from you, I—I—love some one else!” She knew the heart-logic of her own sex far too well to prove her innocence by urging that she dispised and feared the half-breed’s ruffianly lover; but so eager was she to put the possibility of her interference out of the question} that she made a confession with which, until now, even om own heart had been playing at hide and seek, ** You do not love—you do love! Bah! What is what you do, or do not do, to me?” cried Zeph, with passionate scorn. ‘*Can you make Col- rado Steve love me again, as he did before he saw you?” “But you cannot blame me for what is ne my fault.” ' ‘That is more of your white reasoning—of a piece with loving your enemies! Ha! ha! But tell me, if you spill my drink in the sand, am I Jess thirsty because it was done by acci- dent?’ **Zeph! Zeph! it is wicked to bear malice in this way!” cried poor Madeline, despairing of correcting the perverted views of the half-breed before the catastrophe which menaced her had fallen, ‘‘Listento me! I promise to go away from this country, and never return where Colorado Steve can see me. I will—” ** When it is too late! You should never have come bere! Now your only use is to serve my revenge!” “I will not be sacrificed to your blind malig- nity!” cried Madeline, enraged at the bitter wrong of having her young life given to ap- pease the savage instincts of this creature, who seemed to her little better than a wild ast. And in that last madness of the struggle for self-preservation which extinguishes all gen- tler sentiments and brings out the animal in us every One, she sprung forward and madea clutch at the knife which yet lay where Z-ph had dropped it. But the half-breed put her foot upon it and once more grappled with ber prisoner. The struggle was now more stubbornly pro- longed; but in the end the woman who had passed al! of her life out of doors conquered the woman who had passed hers within. Madeline lay panting and exhausted, with closed eyes and relaxed muscles, while her adversary stood | over her, somewhat blown, but with no abate- ment of her imp!acable resolve, And through it all the hag never moved! At this moment long-expected footsteps were | heard approaching. . Madeline, galvanized with terror, opened her eyes with a piercing shriek, and seeking flight while she scrambled to her feet, balf ran, half crept to the furthest corner of the but. ““They are coming! they are coming!” she cried, wringing her hands, and sobbing and moaning, as she sbrunk close to the wall, ‘ Ob, we are lost! I shall never see my dear mother again—never! never!” And sinking upon her knees, she covered her face with her hands, as if to shut out the horri- way. Witla he pre up the knife with which she had menaced Madeline, and stepped a little way back from the door, yet near enough to in- tercept her prisoner, did she try to escape. There she folded her arms, still with the weapon held in readiness for instant use if required, and waited, as coldly indifferent apparently to her own share in the danger as the hag who still preserved her strange abstraction unbroken, Then the doorway was obstructed by the figure of a man who stopped on the threshold, and resting his hands on either jamb, thrust his bead into the room to peer round. The sun having sunk below the horizon, the brief twilight of the prairie was rapidly deepen- ing, so that objects in the hut could be but in- distinctly seen from the doorway, while any one standing in the position taken by the new- comer could be. seen clearly enough in outline, but the expression of his face would be ob- secured, “Waal, Ill ejaculated the intruder. ‘ Ef we hain’t got ’em in hyar as snug as gophers!” At the sound of that voice both of the girls started, but with vastly different emotions. ‘* Steve!” flashed through the brain of the half-breed, seeming to set her on fire; and in- stantly every muscle was braced for desperate action. Abandoning herself to a despair the depths of which only such violent and moody natures know, she had resolved to yield herself up to the Apaches, for the sake of seeing the woman she hated suffer the untold agonies of Indian sa! “te he had every reason to believe that her mother would be murdered out of hand, as only a useless incumbrance; but such filial affection as she may have had she sacrificed to her re- venge. For herself and Madeline she did not expect death. Indeed, it would have frustrated her pespoe to let her victim off so cheaply as that. She wanted tosee her live through the name- loss horrors a white woman has to endure in the wigwam of an Indian warrior. Only this, a daily feast to her greedy hate, would requite the loss of her lover. To witness it she was belecar) Se share it, as far as her blunter nature could be made to feel that most degraded of slaveries. And now the Speeenmnce of Colorado Steve was a surprise to her. She had not thought of him as a leader of the savages. Even vow she did not associate him with them. For one ec- static moment she dreamed that be had come to rescue her; and, as a flash of lightning illumi- nates a landscape, she saw herself re-establish- ed in his affections and taken into his hut as bis pS greeter diudge for bim like a soulless beast of burden, to receive without complaint bis kicks and cuffs and curses, but to have bim for her own! For this prospect she was ready to bow her neck for him place bis foot upon it. She only waited for the word which should confirm her hope that he had indeed come to save her, Unfamiliar with Steve’s voice, having heard it but two or three times before, Madeline only realized tbat one of her own race was at hand. It did not occur to her that he might bea white renegade, leading the bloodthirsty savages against his own people. ‘Oh, save me—save me!” she cried, springing forward. “Save ye, my pretty one? Oh, I'll save ye!” bestionded Coloredo Steve, with a brutal laugh. ‘Maybe ye wouldn’t believe it, but I hain’t come fur nothin’ else.” To the passion-distraught creature, whose soul was shaken between a delirious hope and maddening jealousy, this was like the dropping of a spark into a powder-magazine, Alt her fancy’s paradise was annihilated as the land. scape is blotted out in darkness when the fiery bolt has sped! With a snarling shriek of concentrated fury, such asa maniac might utter when leaping to rend an imagined foe, she sprung forward, and seizing Madeline by ber flying bair as she sought to speed by her, she wrenched her back with such violence that she was burled to the floor, to lie balf-stunned and wholly helpless. Pinning her down by her bair, upon which she planted her knee, she held the knife sus- pended over her bosom, ** One step across that threshold!” she cried to Colorado Steve, ‘‘ and she dies!” The Indian bag lay still without motion, though she knew perfectly well, so far at least as ber ears could tell her, the tragic scene that be etarnally hornswaggled!” : ry being enacted within ten feet of where she ay. “Santo Dios! it is the devil incarnate! Senor Estevan, I wish you joy of them—those two!” Senor Ramirez had made his appearance behind Colorado Steve, and stood looking under one of his arms, while at his back were several Apaches, stony spectators of the scene. Without changing his position, Colorado Steve twisted his head so as to look over his shoulder, and burst into a gruff: “Haw! haw! haw! Ain’t they beauties—both on’em? Whar’s the gilt-edge galoot in this hyar section o’ country what kin sport sich a menag- erie as that?” ' “As for me,” declared Senor Ramirez, ‘I would as soon house with a rattlesnake and a wildcat!” “Oh, you!” scoffed Colorado Steve, with withering disdain. ‘Keep to yer own kind. Skunks an’ Greasers never have a fallin’ out.” ‘* Maldita !” hissed the Spaniard, under his breath, scowling at Colorado Steve’s back as he would not have dared to scow] to his face. Then-he went on aloud: “Your wildcat will spoil your rattlesnake, if you do not soon interfere.” ‘Oh, no!” said Colorado Steve, confidently. ‘It would be a great pity that you should lose one of them—you who are so fond of that sort of animals; but for my part, to be frank, it would not break’ my heart, I owe the rattle- snake no good will.” “Arter the way she scotched ye? You're cowardly hound enough to harbor a grudge ag’in’ a woman, nobody’ll question, But ef it was me, I wouldn’t give it away.” Once more Senor Ramirez had recourse to the luxury of profanity which did Colorado Steve no harm, and was something of a relief to bim. ** Hallo, thar, Tnjun! Old Lantern-jaws!” Thus in a brilliantly funny moment had the usually slow-witted Steve styled the Apache chief, on account of his spareness cf flesh; and the barbarian thought it a name of distinction! “Ugh!” he ejaculated. ‘* What do you do with a squaw what cuts up high-jinks in that thar kind of style?” “Stick!” was the terse recommendation of the unsentimental Mr. Lo. “Haw! baw! haw!” laughed Steve, staring at Wild Zeph, and trying to imagine how she would receive such discipline. All this time she bad stared at him, trying to make out his intimate association with the Apaches, Now with a fierce sense of scorn for his treachery, she realized the truth. “Come!” she cried. ‘‘Declare yourself! What are you bere for?” ‘* Look a-byar, Zeph,” be said, moved to sul- len displeasure by the cavalier tone she bad used to him, ‘‘ drop that thar knife!” ‘“Why should I drop it?” she demanded, wish- ing to draw him out. ‘Becuz I don’t propose to hev my property sp’iled by none o’ your dog-gone nonsense! “Your property !” ‘Waal, what’s the matter with that?” ‘* How is she your property?” *‘ That’s none o’ your infernal business! Drop it, I say!” ‘*T will make it my business!” ** Waal, dang my skin!” showed Steve, open- mouthed at this defiance of bis will. *‘ Do you love her?” asked Wild Zeph, choking as she forced berself to ask the question. ‘‘She suits me, an’ that’s agittin’ down to bottom facts!’ was Colorado Steve’s way of de- claring bis preference. “ Before I get through with ber, I will fix her so that she won’t suit you quite so well!” cried Wild Zeph, again boiling with rage, at this flouting in her face of bis disloyalty to herself, ‘* Ef you touch her, you hellion—” : But having crossed the threshold with one heavy foot, as if about to spring upon her and wrest the knife from her hand, be was brought up with a round turn. ‘Stop! One step furtber, and I bury it to tile hilt in her body.” __ CHAPTER VII. THE SENOR’S LITTLE DODGE, So fiercely was this threat launched at him, that he was fain to take his unwelcome person out of the door—not, however, without an oath, savage, if impotent. “Sy Brine torches byar!” he commanded. It was getting so dark that he could scarce] make out the respective figures in the hut, Aj- though she seemed to command the situation as it was, he dreaded to give Zeph a chance to
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Little Tornado. 9 carry out her threat without his seeing, so as to at least make a desperate effort to frustrate her. On her side, the half-breed hesitated, casting about in her mind for some means of securing the girl alive, and subjecting her to the tortures she had meditated. ‘*Death!” she reflected. ‘‘ No! no! she shall not escape me so, She shall live! her watering the ground with her tears, as she lies on her face, praying to her God to give her the boon of death! But how to hold her alive, yet keep her out of his clutches—that is the question.” Meanwhile Senor Ramirez had withdrawn beyond Wild Zeph’s range of vision through the door, ostensibly to oversee the procurement of the torches Colorado Steve had demanded, but really for the purpose of that treachery which was so congenial to his nature, ’ He now touched Steve’s hand, and having drawn his attention, beckoned him away from the door, Steve was reluctant to leave bis post, but the Spaniard was so earnest in his pantomime that he at last complied. ““What do ye want?” he demanded, with a frown, yet guardedly, as evidently comported with Ramirez’s wish for secrecy. ‘‘Someo’ yer underhanded work, I'll go bail!” **-You are a good shot,” began the Spaniard, ignoring his surly manner. “Yas; but white men don’t shoot women, like as if they was Greasers!” ‘“* Have I asked you to shoot anybody?” asked Ramirez, with some pardonable resentment of his wanton insults. ““Come!” cried Colorado Steve, roughly, “I don’t want no back talk out o’ you, ye onder- stand! Ef you’ve got anythin’ to say, spit ’er out, an’ he hanged to ye!—fur I don’t propose to stand, ayar all night a-chinnin’ about it.” Rami-ez came to the point at once. “Let me go to the door with a torch, pretend- ing to argue the matter with her in your be- half. You then stand far enough back so that she cannot see you in the dark, with the torch in her eyes, and shoot the knife out of her hand,” ‘* Waal, I'll be etarnally Wornswaggled!” cried Steve, lost in admiration of this scheme which was so far beyond his capacity for invention. “I’ve always said—an’ now, by gee! I’ll sw’ar it’s so!—that when the devil wants a new suit o’ clo’s, he always comes to you fur the pat- tern!” Ramirez showed his teeth in a pleased smile at this compliment to his fiendish talent. A torch being ignited, the Spaniard caused one of the Indians to hold it directly in the door- way above his head. Wild Zeph watched this proceeding suspici- ously. She believed that it was a device to out- wit her; but as there was no access to the hut save through the door, she thought that she had only to be on ber guard against Ramirez’s eloquence, **Senorita,” he began, in his oiliest tones, doffing his sombrero to do her honor, “it is the wish of my friend and .your most devoted adorer that I explain to you the true relation between him and the Senorita Magdalena, which is quite different from what you seem to think.” ‘“Gads!” muttered Colorado Steve, entbusias- tically, from his post in the rear. ‘ Don’t it take that tallow-hided coyote, though, to come the honeyfugle dodge! He’d lie the claws off of a grizzly b’ar!” He was skulking in the shadows, with his car- bine in readiness, watching for a chance to fire at the weapon which Wild Zeph beld in sus- pense. Between him and the door were several savages who must have sufficient confidence in his aim to permit him to fire between their bodies. Madeline lay perfectly still, with her eyes fixed as by fascination on the keen point of the knife, awaiting the issue. She could not release her bead, and dared not move lest she should precipitate her fate, “Look here, Ramirez,” said Wild Zeph, con- temptuously, ‘“‘if Colorado Steve has anything to say to me, why don’t he say it himself?” ‘Ah! but consider, senorita,” urged the Spaniard, “the sight of your lover pleading for another woman! Is it not enough to close your ears against anything he might say? But when his friend, on the honor of a gentleman, assures you that bis intentions toward the lady in no way conflict with his loyalty to you; when it is sworn to you that he is moved by witha upon those who bave heaped insult upon him, and that through’her—” Orack ! I must see: A thrill of excruciating pain shot up Wild Zeph’s arm, and it fell numb and helpless to her side, the knife having been dashed out of it by an unseen missile. With a laugh of triumph, Senor Ramirez clapped his sombrero on his head, and leaped through the doorway, followed by several of the savages. Wild Zeph saw at once that she had been tricked. er rage was satanic. If she must lose her victim, let her at least mar forever the beauty in which lay her power. With the hand she could still use she made a dive at Madeline’s face, intending to rend the delicate flesh with her nails, or perchance gouge out an eyel But seeing the knife disappear from before her eyes, and divining the next resort of the vixen, Madeline covered her face with her hands, though she could not move further. The next instant Senor Ramirez had torn Wild Zeph from the body of her victim, and held ber, in spite of her frantic struggles—he was valiant enough with women!—with her hands behind her back. The moment her hair was released, Madeline writhed over upon her face, gathered ,her knees under her, and scrambled to her feet. Goaded by the frantic instinct to escape the clutches of those fierce-looking savages, she leaped over the body of the Indian hag, so as to get between it and the wall, and falling upon her knees, clasped the wrinkled old neck in her fresh young arms, feeling that age must be some little protection. The Indians who were not assisting Senor Ramirez looked at her stolidly, certainly not understanding her motive for hugging the hag, who lay as unresponsive as if she were some time blackened wooden idol. Colorado Steve entered the hut grinning from ear to ear, **Waal, ma’am,” he said to Madeline, not troubling himself to look at Wild Zeph, “I allow as how we got ye out of a dog-gone nasty hole in purty cout shape. That thar critter is as wicked as sin when she’s on full feed. But, Lor’, ma’am! ye needn’t take on about her no longer. Lown her, I do; an’ ef Isay ‘ Drop it!’ why, she’s got todropit, ur she gits the buck- skin! An’ jest take things easy, ma’am, all round. Ye kin, jest as well asnot. These*hyar Injuns, I'll allow, ain’t sweet-smellin’—’special- ly in fly-time—but I’m cock o’ the walk byar, ye onderstand; so ye needn’t be afeard o’ them. But it turns my stummick to see ye a-slobberin’ over that thar ole blacksmith’s apron, I sw’ar it does! Thar hain’t no sort o’ call fur it; an’ ye can’t git no more fur yer money a-pawin’ over her than ef she war a ship’s figger-head.” Madeline gazed earnestly at the speaker. Was there a hope that his purpose might not be so cruel as she fad feared? He seemed to bea good-natured brute. She recalled that in the encounter before the tavern he had acted asif he considered the thing a joke rather than a serious fight. “Oh, sir! tell me,” she exclaimed, ‘‘ why are you with those terrible Indians? You cannot e@ So wicked as to lead them against people who have never harmed you, and of your own race, too! ‘*Waal, ma’am,” said Colorado Steve, with a confidential air, while he twirled his bat on one finger, “ye see, it’s all along o” this dirty Greaser, hyar, the which he’s my pard, an’ 0’ course I have to stand by him, allowin’ as it’s might low-lived work fur a white man an’ a Christian! But you’re beknownst to the fact that t’other day be was soused in the horse- trough, the which it sarved bim jest right. Dog me ef I wouldn’t ’a’ held his head under, ef it had ’a’ been my deal! But when you make a mop of a man, right or wrong, it’s naterral that he should stand to git squar’, So the senor, byar, he says—‘Drop on’em with a batch o Injuns,’ an’ byar we be. The which the senor, he bain’t got nothin’ to do with you, ma’am, an’ ye needn’t take no account o’ him whatsome- dever,” All this was said with such apparent honesty that Madeline’s hopes began to revive. “Then you do not mean to injure me?” she asked, rising and standing with her hands clasp- ed over ber boson. “ Me ?” cried Colorado Steve, grinning as if the idea was so preposterous as to be amusing. ‘“‘ Well, now, bless yer leetle heart an’ soul!— wouldn’t hurt a hair o’ yer purty bead fur— Haw! baw! haw! That thar is good—that is! Me burt ye!” And Colorado Steve twirled his hat and ogled her with the mixed admiration and bashfulness of_a country gawky in love, I cat re eg ae lien Lae ce ting schemata aca ehh Pos: “Shs Oy Wats se yr ne Ah s+ int There was no questioning that Wild Zeph had very good grounds for her Jentousy. as far as her recreant lover was concerned; but this was not particularly distasteful to Madeline, if it took the innocent form of devotion at a dis- tance. “Then you will return me to my friends?” she asked, in painful suspense, “Waal, ma’am, ye see it wouldn’t be quite safe, not jest now at the present time, when the Injuns is on the p’int o’ cleanin’ out the stock- ade. An’ not wishin’ ye to come to harm—” “‘Oh! I am willing to share the fate of my friends!” cried Madeline, who began to fear that there was such a thing as his being too zealous in her defense, ‘* Ye shall look over the ground, ma’am, an’ then I reckon you'll change yer mind. Ye see, when these red devils gits started, thar’s no tell- in’ whar they’ll fetch up; an’ they’ve come pledged to clean out the glen, root an’ branch.” ‘But you have influence with them. Cannot you prevent this terrible work?” cried Madeline, determining to use her power over this cegite & ly honest grizzly, if she had any, for the benefit of her friends, ‘* Waal, ma’am, ye see, it’s mostly the say 0’ the senor; which the same it was him as got soused in the borse-trough, to the truth o’ which you’re beknownst yerself.” “Yes! yes! but you yourself just said that it was no more than he deserved! Must innocent women and children suffer to gratify bis brutal revenge?” Colorado Steve scratched his head reflectively, as if this were a nice’point to be considered. ‘*M—m weal,” he said, presently, “ the senor bein’ although he’s a Greaser, an’ Greasers is all alike, an’ powerful bad medicine—yet he’s got feelin’s like the rest 0’ us—the which you must allow yerself; an’ it’s mighty r’ilin’ fur to gita horse-trough swabbed out with yer. It must be mighty r’ilin’!” he added, shaking his head, as he measured the natucal effect on one’s feelings. Seeing that it was useless to try to reason with such an animal as this, Madeline had recourse to a woman’s weapon before which most men are only too ready to “ give up the ship.” She fell upon her knees before him, and with tears streaming from her beautiful eyes, besought him to take the side of humanity. Steve shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and twirled his hat in great seeming em- barrassment at ber distress; but he got no fur- ther than that “it was the senor’s funeral, the which he, Steve, wasn’t supposed to be a-run- nin’ of it.” Senor Ramirez stood by with glittering eyes, waiting for Madeline to appeal to him; but know- ing that bis devilish nature could not be moved, sbe did not give him the satisfaction of refusing her in his polished way, Finding all hopeless, she yielded herself to Colorado Steve’s direction, and they prepared to leave the hut. Then came the Ueaegit as to what disposal was to be made of the bag, who yet lay as she had since Madeline’s entrance. She had had a quarrel with her daughter that morning, and this was a case of sulks, not different in kind, but in degree, from what we sometimes see in people who call themselves civilized. Since she had been overpowered and pinioned, Wild Zeph had stood in stony silence, only the baleful glitter of her eyes showing the burri- cane of passion that raged beneath the surface. She fixed her eyes upon Colorado Steve, as passing through the doorway with Madeline at bis side, heturned at Senor Ramirez’s question, and cast a careless glance at ber mother, “Tt’s your game. Pitch tbe trump to suit yourself,” he answered indifferently. “ Caramba! what have I to do with old bags?’ muttered Ramirez, ‘And turning to the silent Apache chief, he said: “My heathen friend, I have no doubt that you will know what to do with one of your own ple better than I should.” ze: c gh! No good!” was the Apache’s sum- mary disposal of the matter. And reaching the side of the old squaw with two strides, be coolly drew his tomahawk and sunk it to the eye in her skull! A quiver ran through Wild Zepk’s frame, as she stood and saw this ruthless butchery, but she uttered no sound, nor did she make the slightest move to prevent it. enor Ramirez shrugged his shoulders, and motioned her to precede him through the door. Already outside, Madeline was spared this hor- rible sight. She found that the night sky was illuminated with a lurid glare. Asthey traversed the pasa 4. nM “ hoe eas meets ay ect
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10 and reached the glen she saw how the ruthless hand of the destroyer had laid waste all the fair fields on which the sun had set. The grain that had waved in the evening wind was now being licked up by running tongues of fire. The houses they had built, driving with every nail a hope for the loved ones to be sheltered by them, were wrapped in flames. At thought of the happiness destroyed by that nighé’s wretched work, Madeline could not re- strain ber tears, She was placed under a guard of Indians where she could see the preparations to assail the stockade. This now stood alone untouched in the midst of desolation. CHAPTER VIII. A BOLD VENTURE. Wuen Old Buncomb recovered consciousness, the first face his eyes opened upon was Ruth's. She was ov her knees beside him, bathing bis face with water, and weeping bitterly all the time. ‘What is the matter with me? What has happened?” he asked, in bewilderment. “Oh! don’t you know?—thbe terrible fight with the Indians at the gate of the stockade?” He lifted bimself on bis elbow and stared around, Women were running bither and thither, huddling their frightened children together like hens brooding their chickens at the sight of a hawk. Others sat weeping and wringivg their hands over the loss of their worldly all. One oor creature was inconsolable. Her boy had eset out to drive the cows home when the alarm came, and had not reached the stockade, She was hanging about Mrs. Fortescue’s neck; and the two were sharing their bereavement. Men were rushing about, distributing ammu- nition to others who were firing through the loopholes of the inclosure. pn all sides was the wildest excitement and disorder. Even while he collected his scattered wits the firing ceased. The Indians had got to cover. “Yes! yes! I recall it all now,” he said, put- ting his band to his head. ‘‘ But bow did I get back into the stockade? 1 remember nothing since 1 wascutting my way through the savages to Pa get—” e stopped, at a loss, and Ruth answered his question. “It was Sidney that brought you in. Oh! you should have seen how he fought to reach you! And then, after you were struck down, he got you on his back, and ran through the gate with you, Oh! it was beautiful, but so terrible!” “*-Yes—yes,” said Old Buncomb, vaguely, as if still in search ofa lost link in the chain of recollection. ‘‘ But what was I trying to get? It seems—” With a sob in her voice Ruth told him, in a whisper: “It was Maddie! Oh! what has become of her?” With a sbarp ejaculation Old Buncomb leaped to his feet. “ Madeline!” Theu he stood trembling and looking about. “ Where is Little Tornado?” Without stopping for an answer, he set owt in search of him. : Little Tornado was in the thick of the fight, you may believe, He was always where tke music was loudest. “Come! We have not a moment to lose!” said Old Buncom), seizing bim by the shoulder where he found him in a group of men twice his age, “What’s to be done?’ asked our hero, promptly. ‘* You must ride to the post for help.” *] was just arguing that point witn the com- mandant. Iam glad that you have come to back me.” ‘But, Bunker,” said Mr. Thurston, ‘‘ we can- not expose the boy to such risks, with his ine x- perience and rashness. If it must be done— though lam free to confess that I do not see how any one is to get out of the stockade, sur- | rounded as it is, without detection and death— | let some one older make the attempt.” “Tl show you bow it is to be done,” cried Little Tornado, with that sanguine confidence in bimself which the commandant had just been deprecatin 3 ‘He will do better than any man you have,” said Old Buncomb, quietly. ‘Let him go, I will answer for bis skill and prudence, so far as one can be prudent in so desperate a case as this. One must take great chances when death waits on failure.” “But his mother!” said the commandant, Little Tornado. pene nee ee ene —————————————————__ rnin lowering his voice. ‘Remember that she is mourning one child now. We cannot ask her to give her last to almost certain death, even to save the rest of us.” He remember! As if every nerve in his body were not thrilling with 2nguish over the same loss! “Tt is not death that menaces her,” he said, his voice steady and cold, ‘In bringing help to the glen, ber brother will be bringing ber the best chance of eseape. It is because I believe that be will be more certain of success than any one else, that I wish him to be the one to try.” x I'll go!” said Little Tcrnado, decidedly. “Then God go with you!” said Mr. Thurston, fervently, putting bis hand on his shoulder with paternal tenderness. ‘ But be careful—be very careful.” He loved the boy with a father’s love, for his own worth, as well as because he knew that Ruth had set her young affections ou Lim. “You may depend upon me, sir,” said Little Tornado, respectfully. ‘Of course I know that I may be carrying the safety of all here with me.” And he thought of Ruth as he spoke. No danger of his not taking every precaution where her safety was at sas. ‘©Come with me,” said Old Buncomb, moving off without further loss of time. He was more restless than he would let those around bim see, He led the way toward an out-house which stood within the inclosure of palisades. It was used as an ammunition and storehouse, ‘We must reduce the risk to a minimum,” hesaid, ‘‘Tbere are but two white men who can be known as such end live outside of this stockade to-night.” ‘“Wel” repeated Litile Tornado, “Are you going, too? What istbe need? I can man- age— “IT am going out, but not to interfere with you,” interrupted Old Buncomb, “But what.else— What for?” ‘*Can’t you guess?” He turned bis clouded face toward the boy. Sidney looked into his eyes a moment in silence; then he replied: “I think I can guess.” , “Well, then, there is no need of saying any- thing more about it.” ‘* Bunker!” Little Tornado extended bis hand. Old Buncomb clasped it in silence. “God bless you, old man, and give you suc- cess|”’ His voice shook. Old Buncomb knew that another heart was aching cs painfully as his own over the unknown fate of Madeline For- tescue, “You lugged me back into the stockade, Ma id. ‘*Ruth told you?” “Yes, It was a mad, a foolish thing for me to do—to risk everything where there was no chance but to lose.” “T tried to do what a boy could to fetch things out right,” said Sidney, a little mali- aac “We changed places there, for a fact,” admitted Old Buncomb. ‘‘ But you may depend upon me now, as I bave Jearned to depend upon ou, “That makes us square!” said Little Tornado, extending bis hand. And so they entered the out-house. From a box, which was his own private prop- erty, Old Buncomb tock the whole outfit of an Indian, in the way of clothes, from the feathered head-dress to the moccasins, “They are rather large for you,” be said; “but an Indian’s garments are seldom cut very close to scale. I guess you can make them pass in the dark.” ““They’re beauties!” cried Little Tornado, in delight. ‘‘My own mother wouldn’t know me in ’em, with a little burnt umber on my face and bands,” “* We have that, too,” said Old Buncomb, tak- ing the pigment out of a small box. **Why! how do you come by all of these things?” cried Little Tornado, léokitig at his companion curiously, ‘ Have you ever been on the stage?” ‘They are very convenient to have in this country, aren't they?’ asked Old Buncomb, pd the last question, perhaps unintention- ally. “ Yes—certainly.” **) thought they epi be, sometime. Now, as you're not used to this sort of thing, perhaps you will let me put you in trim,” ~~ eee ee ee “But where is your rig?” “T will get one when the time comes.” And Old Buncomb set to work to transform Little Tornado into an Indian brave. To guard against every possible accident, in- stead of confining his work to face, neck, bands, arms and thighs—which are the ordinarily ex- posed parts of an Indian's body—Old Buncomb insisted on staining Little Tornado’s skin a fine batternut brown, from the crown of bis head to the soles of his feet. He further dyed bis hair coal-black. Then, when he had arranged his dress and given him his weapons, the effect was perfect. Leaving out of account the cast of features, no one could have told that it was a disguised white. ‘“What will Ruth say?” cried Little Tornado, surveying himself ruefully, ‘ She will never acknowledge such a hemlcck-tanned Yankee as this!’ “ Suppose you goand find out whether that is so?” said Old Buncomb. ‘I will be ready pres- ently.” Little Tornado acted on this suggestion. At sight of him a woman screamed and fainted. Others were set to trembling, and had to hear bim speak before they were fully per- suaded that it was one of their own people, and ' not asavage who had somehow gained admit- tance to thestockade. The children cried and shrunk away, even when be spoke to them, and their parents assured them that it was all right. His mother ran to him all atremble. “Oh, Sidney!” she cried, putting her arms about him and weeping on his breast. ‘I can’t let you go! Indeed, my son, this is too much} Was tbere no one else, that they must rob me of both of my children?’ He consoled her, himself much moved by her love for him. Then he persuaded her to go into the house and lie down where she would be quiet and give her nerves a chance to recover their tone. Ruth looked at him through tears, and trem- bled even while she clung to him, as he put his arms about her and kissed her. She charged bim over and over again to be careful, for her sake, and told him how her heart stood still at the thought of the danger he was going into, at the same time that it beat ex- ultantly that Old Buncomb, whose words had been repeated all through the stockade, had said that he was the best qualified to go on such an errand. He got full measure of the soldier’s meed—the homage of woman. Then Old Buncomb made his appearance, Every one was astonished to see a stranger, with a smooth face, black bair, and a complex- ion dark as an Indian’s, come, as if he had dropped from the clouds, into their midst. ve Jove!” cried Little Tornado, his eyes sparkling with admiration, ‘1 never dreamed that you was such a dandy for good looks! And so young, too! What the deuce have you meant, anyway, by making yourself look like an old codger all this time? But it wasn’t neces- sary to sacrifice al} of that magnificent suit of whiskers—I mean to bring out your real self. Lopping a little of the tangle-brush would have doneit, But where’s your dress?” “Tt is out yonder,” replied Old Buncomb, coolly. ‘*A friend of mine is keeping it for me until T call for it.” * And do you mean to say that you have given me the only dress you bad, and rre about to get one off a savage’s back after you bave got outside cf the stockade?” “You might perbaps reasonably infer as much,” seid the scout quietly. ‘*Look bere, Bunky! You've this dress yourself.” “You seem to havea very poor opinion of my steadfastness of purpose,” said Old Bun- comb. “ WhenI put that on you, don’t you think I meant it to stay?” , “But you have no right to surprise me—no, cheat me—into the acceptance of such a sacri- fice.’ Old Buncomb bent toward him, and said into his ear, in a low voice which no one else could hear: ‘“T gave it to your sister’s brother.” Little Tornado looked at him, and then silent- ly extended his hand, “1f—if,” said Old Buncomb, unsteadily. + Ne, is saved through your efforts, and je —fail—” ‘He stopped a moment; and bis auaitor knew that he was thinking that, if he failed, he would not be alive to tell her himself. Ther. he com cluded: ‘Tell her that I did it—will you” got to take
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Little Tornado. 11 ‘Indeed I will, old fellow!” cried Little Tor- nado, wringing his hand. ‘ But there will be no need of my telling her, unless because of your modesty.’ And he smiled his confidence in his friend. Old Buncomb turned away without reply, to meet Mr. Thurstov, who cried: ‘But what is this that they tell me? You are not going too? Indeed, Bunker, we can’t spare you! What is the stockade going to do, without men to defend it? They may attack us at 0 8 moment after dark.” “Undoubtedly; but you cannot think that I have overlooked that obvious fact.” ‘**But why will not one do to make the at- tempt to get tothe post? Wait until we have some proof that be has failed—which God for- bid!” “‘T shall not accompany Sidney,” said Old Buncomb. “ But what then—” “T bave bopes of being able to bring her daughter back to the poor woman who is sor- rowing in yonder. And you do not forget that she is my pardner’s sister. If I send him away, I owe it to him to take the place he would otherwise occupy, in attempting to effect her rescue.” There was no use in trying to’argue with this quiet, decided man. “Do as you think best,” said the commandant, **T have every confidence in your judgment and interest in the welfare of these defenseless people.” Then they waited for the darkness to cover their movements; and it was during this time that Madeline was having her experience with Colorado Steve. The gate of the stockade was toward the cen- ter of the glen, and was therefore illuminated by the conflagration which was desolating the fi-lds and homes of the besieged settlers; but directly opposite, so that it was thrown by con- trast into denser shadow, was a neatly con- structed sally-port in the wall of the stockade, It was designed to meet that last, desperate contingency, when a garrison is forced by star- vation or for other cause, to abandon its de- fenses in the depths of the night, and trust to escape through the enemy’s lines and flight across the open country. That it might be available for this purpose, it must be kept secret; and so secretly had it been constructed, and so oa was its adjustment to the other parts of the wall, that less than a dozen men in the glen knew of its existence. These were the commandant and a few of the most reliable men of the settlement, Through this sally-port Old Buncomb and Little Tornado made their exit so quietly that few in the stockade knew when they. went, Old Buncomb went first, It was full fifteen minutes later that Little Tornado followed him, He knew every inch of the ground, su that be had no difficulty in making his way down the slope of the slight eminence on which the palisade stood, into a densely-wooded glen bef sa wound through the hills to the plain be- yond, He neither saw nor heard anything of Old Buncomb; but he soon found that the Indians were moving about so promiscuously that he judged it safer to proceed boldly, trusting to the perfectness of his disguise, than to be caught skulking. But be bad hardly proceeded twenty rods, when what he had observed among the others failed in his case. They bad passed and repass- ed without speaking to one another; but as he was hurrying by a group upon which he came, one of them called to him, saying something in Apache, which was as unintelligible to him as if he had been addressed in Hebrew. Now came the'test of his metal! He walked straight up to them; and there were not less than a dozen or fifteen in the party! CHAPTER IX, IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP. Op BUNKER’S first need was an Indian out- fit; and, making the same discovery that Little Tornado did a few minutes later, he soon saw that be could not proceed far undetected with- out one, But the very fact that the savages were so many and so disconnected gave him his oppor- tunity. He could drop one, and the rest would never miss him—unless they chanced upon his dead body, Then there would be a counting of noses! As they moved about without caution, sup- posing that they had nothing to fear, he had no Pia | posed his face to a broad glare of light, issued | difficulty in knowing when any one was in his Merges be He therefore easily selected his vic- im, The doomed wretch, with his arms full of brush, passed by a tree behind which he had taken his position. He stepped out bebind him. There was a quick blow. The fagot-carrier fell to the ground, as if he had tripped over a root. Another body went down with his. A moment later he was borne into the bollow trunk of the tree which had secreted his slayer, Two or three minutes passed. An Indian to all appearances, so like the fayot-carrier that he could not have been distinguished unless he ex- from the tree, picked up the brush, and passed on in the direction the other had been going. As he neared the point to which others were bearing like burdens, he was soon surrounded on all sides by them. He was addressed, and made answer, in the Apache dialect, his gut- tural tones differing in nothing from those of his interlocutors, Then he roamed at will, sooo discovering where Madeline was seated under | guard, with Wild Zeph near her. Zeph’s hands were still bound; but Madeline was free from any restraint save her guards. Old Buncomb knew that he could do nothing for her with so many about her. Two, or even three, he might have managed in a desperate strait; but with extraordinary caution, Colorado Steve bad placed half a dozen on duty. It was not that be feared for Madeline so much, but that he knew that Wild Zepbh was equal to al- most anything. But Old Buncomb had seen the woman whose safety was the only boon he asked of heaven. She sat watching in dry-eyed misery the fiends’ work that was going on about ber; but her quiet manner told him that no serious injury had come to her yet. Sbe was safe—she was well; restore her to liberty and security, and twenty-four hours of rest would make ber her old bright, beautiful self again! With this music singing in his heart, he went to prepare the way for her rescue. He first found that her horse, still saddled, was tied near those ridden by Colorado Steve and Senor Ramirez. Having seen them before, he easily recognized them among the mustangs used by the Apaches. The presence of Made- line’s horse here indicated that Steve meant to mount her upon it when he took bis departure from the desolated glen. ‘*But she must have a better mount than a horss that has stood what he has gone through to-day,” said Old Buncomb to himself, ‘‘ When the time comes, we must be able to show them aclean pair of heels. Lucky for me that they did not think it worth while to put these ani- mals under guard, or I should have been puzzled to make the exchange.” His next care was Little Tornado. He had assigned the time of his making his venture, so as to give himself opportunity to procure and get into his Indian rig, in order that be might lend the boy assistance if he got into trouble. Going round opposite the sallyport, he waited for him to make his appearance, He did not join him, since it was his purpose to leave him to his own devices as much as possible. ‘“The boy is a born scout!” he exclaimed, when hesaw him throw off his caution for the bolder demeanor which was really safer. ‘‘ He has the readiness of resource in emergency— the quickness to grasp a situation, and the bold- ness to act vigorously.” He was charmed to see the firmness with which Little Tornado walked up to the group of savages, one of whom had called to him. But as the boy did not understand the Indian dialect, he was afraid to leave him unassisted to the chances of the tickiish position in which he found himself. Little Tornado saw that they bad felled a large tree and were about to lift it. He guessed that they bad summoned him to belp; and if that was so, probably no particular reply would be required, provided he borea band. He there- fore resolved to make such shift as he could with sullen grunts. If he was spoken to more parti- cularly, and awakened their suspicions, he would have to run for it, trusting to bis lightness of heel and the friendly. darkness. If,on the other hand, he could scrape through without betray- ing the fact that there was any one from tbe stockade outside, he was willing to take great risks; for to disclose this fact would put the sav- ages on their guard, and therefore make his friend’s task not only more difficult, but also more hazardous. But at the critical. moment a shadowy figure appeared beside him. His hand was grasped and pressed thrice in quick succession, as if to He beard two words that had convey a signal, + They were: a very pleasant sound just then. “ All right!” Then the speaker kept directly on in Apache; and he knew that it was Old Buncomb! By the clever device of answering as if he thought it was he that had been addressed, Old Buncomb cédvered Little Tornado’s silence. Then side by side they lifted on the tree-trunk which was to be used as a battering-ram. Having carried it to its destination, they were again free, and went off together. “That was a tight squeak!” laughed Little Tornado, ‘* Hush!” cautioned Old Buncomb. talk about that some other tiie.” Then, as they went, he occasionally made some observation in Apache, and answered him~ self in a different pitch of voice, so thatif they passed any one near enough to be overheard, it sounded as if they were conversing in the In- dian dialect. Getting clear of the savages, they made their way to the borses which were tethered to graze on the plains beyond the hills to the eastward. It was fortunate for their present needs that the glen had been alarmed just before boys had been sent to fetch the animals in. ‘* This is the fellow that is to take mo twenty miles in sixty minutes!” said Little Tornado, selecting one of the animals. ‘*No,” said Old Buncomb, ‘ Your sister is to ride tbat horse to-night. He may be called upon to take her five miles inside of ten minutes before daylight.” ‘You are about as modest in your require- menisas I am,” said Little Tornado, ‘‘But I hope that he may make it if called upon.” ‘* You will take Fitler’s mare and the roan that Danforth was hoping to pit against her this f2ll,” said Old Buncomb. ‘By riding them alternately and using the one that is run- ning free to stimulate the one that is carrying you, you can get their best speed out of them.” +e Tel me one thing,” said Little Tornado, as he leaped upon the back of one of the animals, and took the other by the leading-line, ‘have you seen Madeline?” “We can ““ Yes.” ** And she is—” * Well.” ““Thank God for that! Good-night, old fel- low!” He rode straight out from the hills to the east- ward, at a walk, but when he had got beyond earshot he turned northward; and then any one. who had seen she pace he urged those horses to, by keeping the led one half aneck in advance of the one that carried his weight, would have thought that a famous bandicap. Meanwhile Old Buncomb drew the tethering- pin of another horse, and led that and the one he had selected for Madeline round to where he was to make the exchange. Having efficted this without detection, he joined adeline’s guards, throwing himself down near her, as if weary. Now be was ready to take advantage of the slightest negligence on the part of her enemies, His greatest bope lay in the excitement which would attend the attack on the stockade. He knew that to those wild natures it would be a difficult thing to resist the temptation to aban- don their post and joinin the mad excitement of carnage. Thenif his opportunity came, he would overpower such of her guard as were left, hurry her to the horse be had provided for her, hamstring those the speed of which he had reason to fear, and make a bee-line for the mili- tary post. , As yet, he feared to make himself known to her, lest in some exigency which might arise she should betray bim by an appeal to.him in supposed extremity. Unknown to her, he could use his own judgment. Everything was finally in readiness for the attack; but the besiegers had to wait until fires they had kindled should burn out, so that they no longer illuminated the space about the stockade, Senor Ramirez had exhausted his ingenuity in inventing engines of war which shouli make the storming of the stockade not only irresist- ible, but an event of peculiar horror in the lurid record of border warfare. He bad given directions that all of the bed- ding and cloth of every description found in the houses should be removed before they were set on fire, and all lard and grease of any kind. These materials he made into fire-balls—each having a stone in the center to give it weight— which he distributed among a score of stations fixed at intervals around the palisade, At each. of these stations he constructed a catapult, os
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12 giant sling, by stripping two saplings standing close together, and tying to their tops ropes of equal length, the other ends of which were fas- ttened to a board with a hole in the center, so that the whole looked very like an ordinary ‘swing, save that the board was as high as a man could reach from the ground. If, now, this board were pulled down and back at such an angle as it was desired to give the projectile, and the object to be thrown—a stone, fire-ball, or what not—were placed upon this board, the bole in which would keep it from sliding off, and, finally, the boards were re- leased, then the trees, inspringing back to place, would throw the missile into the air, with a force porportioned to their stiffness and the dis- tance they were bent from the perpendicular. pay boy who bas used a rubber sling tied to a forked stick will understand this contrivance. A little practice will enable the operator of such a machine to throw missiles short dis- tances with considerable accuracy of aim and range, and a score of such slings properly manned would give a small garrison ample Mbit extinguisbing the fire they threw in upon them. In view of his revenge, Senor Ramirez had educated his gunners—if they can be so called— in advance, But this was to be the last resort. He sus- pected that the money and valuables of small compass of the settlers were kept in the stock- ade, and he determined to take it by assault if possible, so that he might reap profit as well us satisfaction from the enterprise. To this end he had prepared the battering- ram and scaling-ladders; and that they might be used without exposing his men to a wither- cng Porky he was forced to wait for darkness, ring this interval Colorado Steve came and sat down beside Madeline, staring at her with a dull glow of admiration in bis eyes. Wild Zeph sat mute and unnoticed, watching them with the same suppressed ferocity that had characterized her ever since she had been bound. : Unable to endure longer the suspense of not knowing her captor’s purpose with her, Made- line once more besought bim to restore her to ber friends, ** Waal, ma’am,” he said slowly, ‘‘I’ve been a-thinkin’ o? this byar thing over; an’ it amounts to about the same thing any way ye kin look at it. Ye see, my motter has alays been: Whenever ye git a good thing, keep it! Waal, now, I’ve al’ays wanted a critter of about your pints, as nigh as I kin make it out; an’ now as I’ve got what fills the bill sp well, o’ course iv’ll stan’ me in band to hang on to ‘* But what do you mean?” cried Madeline, in dismay. ‘‘ Il am nothing to you!” ‘* M—m, waal, that jest depends,” said Colo- rado Steve, deliberately. ‘* Ye sea, it’s the ssenor’s idee. He has a hankerin’ arter that thar tow-head, ye onderstand, the which you -shunted him off the track hsrnsome when he sot himself to honeyfuglin’ of her. That thar’s the senor’s way, which the same it ain’t mine, and don’t ye furgit it! When I want a woman critter fur to come down, Mr. Crockett, I talks business to her; noue o’ yer cussin’ an’ ‘sw’arin’, pur cioutin’, nur taking yer boot to her, ye onderstand, but only business. Now, says [ to’em, ye don’t know what a clever fel- low I be. The woman as'ties to Colorado Steve -don’t have to dog her life out, like a squaw as is hitched to one these byar lazy Injun bucks, She’s a lady, she is, what don’t bave todo nothin’ at allfrom mornin’ pill night but jest grow harn- somer an’ barnsomer. She has all! the caliker ownds she wants, an’ jew’lry jest like they do n the States. Oc! thar ain’t notbin’ low-down -about me, ye onderstand, when it comes to women critters!” Witb a horrible sense of loathing Madeline ‘realized that this rude fellow was paying court toher! He was going to have her whether or no: but be was willing to reconcile ber to her ot. ‘* But this is infamous!” she cried, springing to her feet. ‘*Do you think that I would submit to such an outrage? I despise you! I wouid rather kill myself than be the degraded slave of “such a wretch as you!” Colorado Steve looked at_her with a broaden: ing smile of admiration, He liked her best in these moments of tragic beauty. ** Waal,” be replied, ‘‘ it don’t make so much difference to me Low ye feel, so Jong as ye keep yer claws out o’ my wool, I reckon we'll git along about as most folks do, Thar’s a good deal o’ clappercla win’ in this byar world; but I ssuppose it’s fur to keep people from goin’ to pe a a fl ee Little Tornado. sleep. Thar’s nothin’ like music in the house fur to make the time pass!” Shaken in every nerve, Madeline turned to fly from this cool monster; but the savages stood round her as stolid as dumb brutes. In an agony of despair, she sunk down and covered her face with her hands. Standing within ten feet of her, Old Bun- comb’s feelings were indescribable; but no out- ward sigu of emotion distinguished him from the savages about him. Senor Ramirez now made his appearance to announce that the time had come for storming the stockade. CHAPTER X. STORMING THE STOCKADE, IN the stockade every moment bad been occu- pied making preparations for a desperate de- fense. But the time had passed in terrible sus- pense. lt was near midnight; Old Buncomb and Little Tornado had been gone considerably over two bours; and nota sound had been heard from them since they had passed through the sally-port. Scattered about the glen, which was now a fire-blackened desert, only heaps of dull red em- bers showed where the bouses of the settlers had stood, ** Now be in readiness for a sudden attack,” said the commandant, passing around the in- closure to see that every man was in his place and on the alert. He had hardly regained his own place near the gate, when there was a rush, and the solid oaken barrier quivered under a shock like a thunderbolt. ‘‘Fire!” cried the commandant; and a long line of flame appeared across the face of the palisede. Then the scene that followed was indescribable, ‘From the covert on every side rushed dark forms. Ladders were put against the wall, up each of which poured streams from the tossing sea of bumanity below. But up from behind the parapet rose other dark forms in furious opposition, Fire-arms flashed their death signals. Dull, sodden blows were exchanged. Ladders were pushed away, to fall with their living freight backward. Yells, curses, groans, resounded on every side; and with rhythmic regularity came the thun- der-crash of the battering-ram. Inside of the stockade the children were shut in the commandant’s house, under the care of the more timid women. The bolder settlers’ wives and daughters stood near their husbands and fathers, loading their rifles for them, and in some cases using them with good effect them- selves. Others cared for the wounded and did such running back and forth as was needed. It was an hour when evea the boys became heroes, But in spite of all, the savages gained a foot- ing in one place, beating back the defenders, and swarming over the wall. The commandant had made provision so that such a contingency might not strike panic into his ranks, and by drawiug all to one point to repel the invaders, denude the rest of the wall, leaving it exposed to a second successful esca- lade. He had divided them into parties, each of which was evenly distributed about the pal- isade; each man knew the party to which he was assigned, and upon call they were to rally to any point required. When they had served the purpose for which they had thus been called together, they could be remanded to their places by a word of command. He now cried: ‘* First rally! To the east wall! Rally! rally! First rally to the east wall!” From every point men came rushing across the inclosure; but the proportionate dispersion was not changed, only weakened by one-fourth, while at the point where they massed the in- vaders found themselves charged with desperate energy. But as the constant stream poured over the wall at their backs, they were reinforced as fast as they were beaten down, until the comman- dant cried once more; ‘Second rally!” Then a second detachment came to the sup- port of the first, leaving the wall in general with half its original “defenders. These were desperately pressed in many places, but they fought on as men will fight who know that de- feat means death to themselves and life worse than death to their loved ones, “Charge them! Down with the red devils!” shouted the commandant. And clubbing his rifle—for he could not wait for reloading—he fell upon his foes like a mad- man. His men followed his example; and presently those they had left to struggle on without knowing what was happening at their backs had their fainting hopes revived by hearing rousing Yankee cheers. They knew that that meant victory; and they responded lustily, and tbrew new energy into their own efforts. The entrance over the wall which they had made cost the savages dear. Their dead and wounded lay in a great heap at this point with- in the palisade, over which the victors climbed as they regained the wall, and burled back the ladders which had so nearly proved fatal to them. The assault was a failure. The gate stood firm, and the escalade was beaten back at every point. The Apache chief called his forces off in sullen rage. ‘* Well, we have tried the white man’s way,” he said, ‘‘and my people are food for coy- otes.” He addressed Colorado Steve, speaking in his own tongue; but he glowered at Senor Rami- rez, whom he considered the cause of this fiasco, Colorado Steve took the matter quite coolly, though bis Spanish partner turned a sickly yel- low with fear when Steve translated to him. ‘*What does he say?” he had asked, judging from the savage’s manner that it was nothing particularly complimentary to him, And Colorado Steve bad answered: ; ‘‘He says that you are an infernal fool fur insistin’ on doin’ a thing the hardest way, an’ tharby makin’ crow-bait out o’ his braves. If you hadn’t been sich a hog, you wouldn’t ’e’ tried it;—you know that.” This was! a very liberal translation, it must be confessed; but perhaps it was not far from the spirit of the Apache’s words. ‘‘ Well,” said Senor Ramirez, angrily, “if you're going to burn them out, you might as well begin at once.” ‘Now ye’re shoutin’! was Colorado Steve’s well-satisfied response, as he gave the signal for the second attempt. During the conflict just deseribed Old Bun- comb’s breast was a battle-ground of conflict- ing emotions which ebbed and flowed with the charging vicissitudes cf the struggle of which he was an inactive witness. He longed to be putting in his blow, foremost among his friends so bard-beset. A single arm might turn the fortunes of war. Again and again he reproach- ed himself for his abandonment of them. But then be saw the bowed figure before him. Madeline sat with her face buried in her lap, her eyes and ears stopped to shut out the horri- ble sights and sounds that assailed her shrink- ing senses, She shuddered and moaned and rayed. And Old Buncomb waited for a avorable opportunity to catch her up in his arms, and rush off to the horses with her. It did not come. Hersavage guards, though greatly excited, stood fast by their post. And now a beautiful blue star shot up into the air at an angle of forty-five degrees, de- scribed a graceful curve, ard fell into the stock- ade. It was fellowed by another and another, and then by a flight of them from every direc- tion. The spectacular effect was very like a bombardment with Roman candles. But witbin the palisade they had reason to know that it was not such harmless amusenient, It was asif it rained fire from Heaven. Every- where the fire-balls alighted, burning furiously, and oozing pine resin which bluzed up as it ran. There was a spring of living water within the stockade, and an ample supply of fire-buckets; but the men, and even the women, were kept so busy putting out the fire which ever blazed in a fresh spot, that they could have spared few to defend tho wall against such an assault as that which they bad just defeated, But this was not now the purpose of the savages, They were burning for revenge from the severe punishment they had _ received. Nothing but fire would satisfy them. They would not abate one pang of their distracted enemies. Old Buncomb could not look upon this un- moved. He saw the houses within the palisade blaze up again and again. Hesaw the men who sougbt to beat out the flames and drench them with water, throw up their hands and fa)l back- ward, as their bodies were pierced by the bul- lets of some Indian starpshooters perched inatree. Hesaw Indians rush forward and pile brush against the windward side of the palisade, preparatory to setting fire to it and sweeping the whole in one red conflagration,
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. He saw others waiting, rifle in hand, to receive the settlers, when the moment came for them to make that mad dash for the sheltering trees mand darkness, after their defenses became no longer tenable. He saw all this, and he idle! e@ rose and paced restlessly back and forth. He might have joined the besieging party, and under cover of the excitement, slain both of the white renegades; but what was their death com- ared with the possible loss of a chance to secure Madeline's escape? Furtbermore, the stockade was doomed, so that their death would not arrest its downfall. In that prison-house of fire all was the wild- est confusion. Despair was fast making its own the men who fought on in one slender ope. ‘‘Remember,” cried the commandant, who was rushing about in all parts of the inclosure, encouraging and directing, “‘if Little Tornado had been captured, we should have had some sign of it. If be has made his way to the post, he may be here at any moment with help. We must not yield until the walls fairly crumble about our heads.” But at this moment the brush piled against the palisade sent up tongues of flame which the rising wind beat down upon the roofs of the houses within, ‘Then the fire-fiends took full ion. It was useless Jonger to contend with them. The acrid smoke, the stifling heat the crackle and roar of the conflagration, an beyond and above all the yells of the savage foe, struck terror to every heart. The women and children, driven out of the shelter that had thus far kept their manifesta- tions of terror from their defenders, now clung screaming about their male relatives, drivin them frantic with a sense of their utter inabil- ity to cope with the situation. : Then the men who had thus far subordinated their individual wills to that of their appointed leader, rebelled. ‘Must we stay here to be roasted alive?” they cried passionately. ‘‘ What death can the red devils inflict worse than what we must en- dure here?” A shriek of terror went up from a group of women and children, and they scatter ran- tically in every direction. A fire-ball had fall- en among them; one was struck, and her clothes were instantly in ablaze. In an agony of fear and pain she rushed about so wy that she was caught with difficulty and the fire finally extinguished, but not untilsbe had been severely burned. The sbri¢ks and moans of this poor creature added to the demoralization of the little garrison. “Let us go out!” they cried. ‘‘ A few may escape, though the rest perish. Weall have the same chance to be the lucky ones. We can gain nothing by staying here.” Then, seeing that he could hold them no * longer, the commandant yielded. : **Men!” he cried, ** remember that our only hope lies in discipline. If we preserve order, we may save something; if we break into con- fusion, weshall lose everything. Our women and children must be protected to the last ex- tremity. By forming two lines, with them in the middle, a few of us may manage to cut our way through to the open plains, ou all know where the horses are tethered to the eastward of the hills) Make your way thither, mount, and then try to reach the post to the north- ward.” The timid Ruth had now come out in a new character. She was the most self-possessed of the women who were not hardy enough to take active part in the defense. ‘My darling,” said ber fatber, tenderly, “I must lead my men, but I cannot let you away from my side. We go out first. You will be be- tween me and Jonas Dawson. Whatever bap- pers, keep close to us, so that we can protect you to the best of our ability.” “Do not fear for me, dear father,” she re- plied, tremulously, yet with heroic fortitude. ‘ Let me kiss you before we go out. It may be for the last time.” He put his arm about her, and stroked ber yellow hair. He was thinking of ber mother just then—the wife of bis young manhood, wbo ay within sound of the peaceful village church- bells, in far New England. ‘Are you all ready?” he asked, when the line was formed and waiting. “ Ready!” came tho response. “Then open the sally-port. And may God shelter us with bis hand!” The sally-port was thrown open. The com- mandant and Jonas Dawson were the first out, closely followed by Ruth. Urged to expedition by the flames, others poured forth, Little Tornado. Then there was was a burst of blood-curdling yells, and a terrific combat. How it happened Ruth never clearly knew. The Indians fairly swarmed about them. She saw her father knocked senseless; then she was grasped by the wrist and burried toward the gulch down which they had arranged to go, At first her only consciousness was that she was not in the hands of a savage; but a tongue of flame leaping up showed her the not less dis- tasteful person of Senor Ramirez. The Indians were rushing thither from every quarter. The fall of their leader and the num- bers of their foes daunted the settlers; and dragging the commandant with them, they bur- ried back into the stockade. it was a move of unreasoning fear—the re- treat from immediate death to a more terrible one than even the tomahawk and scalping-knife of the savages, They stood amid tbe whirling smoke and flames of their crumbling defenses, and no one could say what was to be done next, And yet this was the salvation of many of their lives. Five minutes in a hand-to-hand struggle with their enemies would have seen them annihilated. They had not waited five minutes in that despair which made strong men sit down and bow their heads into their hands and weep, when a wild shout swept the glen, causing al! to leap to their feet with a thrill of delirious hope, veined with agonizing doubt. Could it be help from the post at last? ‘* Hush! hush!” cried Jonas Dawson, the black- smith and wheelwright, who, after deeds of valor that would have shamed the heroes of an- cient fable, had at last succumbed to what seemed an inevitable fate; and he extended his hands over the people to quiet their wailings of despair. en women stilled their, children, and push- ed back their tear-damped hair to listen with bated breath. Yes! yes! it was come at last! Far above the roar of the conflagration rose the rattle of fire- arms and the yells of combatants in fierce en- counter, 1t could be none other than the sol- diers whom Little Tornado had brougbt after a ride without parallel, “Out of this raging hell!” cried the black- smith, dashing open the sally-port. ‘‘We may yet be in time to git.a crack at them imps 0’ Sa- tan! No quarter to the red devils; but take them black hearted varlets o’ renegades alive, if ‘possible. Nothin’ short o’ hangin’ will do fur them!” Once more they streamed through the sally- rt; but this time there was no one to receive hem: The Indians were in full retreat, hotly pressed by the soldiery. Under the lead of Jonas Dawson, the settlers ran st the top of their speed to the horses teth- ered on the plains, that they might join in the chase. They were late, but they were terrible in their implacable rage. Many kept on, slaying all, that’. they overtook, Jong after the soldiers drew off from the chase. They were exacting revenge for their desolated fields, But disappointment awaited them in one re- spect. They saw nothing of the renegades nor of their captives. Of course Little Tornado knew nothing as yet of the calamity that had befallen his sweet- heart; but as soon as he had satisfied himself that Madeline was not among the flying sav- ages, he abandoned the pursuit, turning. back to ascertain whether Old Buncomb had effected her rescue. Dashing up to the group of women and chil- dren who, just beyond the range of heat, were sadly watching the structure which, having sheltered them so well, was now a crumbling ruin, he leaped to the ground, crying: “Where is Madeline?” But before they could answer him, the fact that another was not the first to receive him struck a chill to his heart, and he added: “Ruth! Where is Ruth?” When he knew the worst—and it was told bim by his mother, who clung about bim min- gling her thanksgivings to God for his merciful sparing of her brave boy with her distress over the uncertainty which yet bung about the fate of her daughter—he staggered under the blow. ‘Gone! gone!” he cried, “and I alone to follow them! Not a word—not a sign from Old Buncomb?” Then, heart-sick, he put his weeping mother away; and directing. the women to gather torches, he set out in search of a fresh horse and to get some of the soldiers to return and enter upon a systematic search for the trail of the abductors. It was really a hopeless task to be undertaken before the morning light; but he could not en- dure to remain in idleness, knowing that every moment was bearing his loved ones further and further away. CHAPTER XI. WILD ZEPH’S PROPOSAL. SENOR RAMIREZ was triumpbant. Fortune- had slayed into his hands better than he could have asked. “Now, my pretty one!” he cried, thrusting his face ciose into that of terrified little Ruth, and grinning with ferocious exultation, as he dragged her along, ‘‘now we will see who is: master! You would have me—me/ Senor Bamirez!”—and he swelled like a turkey-cock with importance—‘‘ ducked in a horse-trough,. would you? Well, you shall give me a kiss for every drop of water in that bath, my dear!” And again he grinned in her face, that gri- mace of the round eyesand glittering teeth, so that she thought that he was about to put his. threat into instant execution. ‘Never, you wretch!” she exclaimed, avert- ing her own face and striking his with her open. alm. Ramirez laughed like a jackal. fy Peeronke Laan now!” he cried, ‘ This no time or place for love-making—more’s the pity! for I am impatient to. begin, I promise you? But before morning. we shall be in a cosey re- treat, with the birds caroling our bymeneal hymn.” Sbuddering at his fiendish humor, poor Ruth was hurried through groups of savages, who leered at her with covetous greed. Everything she saw caused a chill of horror to thrill through her, until she was dragged into the group where Madeline was held a prisoner. At sight of her friend’s suffering, every gen-- erous impulse in Madeline’s bosom was stirred, She Jeaped to her feet with eyes that blazed: while they were suffused with tears at the thought that this sensitive nature was to be ex- to the ordeal that bad nearly brvken her ‘‘Oh, you poor.dear! To think that you might not be kept out of that monster’s clutches!” ut the generous heart of the commandant’s pretty child would not be confined to her own misery. a Oh, Maddie! Maddie!” she sobbed, clinging to her friend. ‘I am so delighted to have you in my arms oncemore! Weall imagined every- thing terrible as having happened to you! And here you ere, alive and well, at least! How can I be sufficiently thankful! Even for my- self, I am not nearly so frightened as I was. But ”—and she lowered ber voice to a whisper, with her lips close to her friend’s ear—“ haven’t. you seen Mr, Bunker?” ‘Mr, Bunker?” whispered Madeline in return, starting and beginning to tremble in every nerve. ‘‘No! no! Where is he?” “He left the stockade hours ago—just after dark, and Sidney with him.” ‘Mr. Bunker and Sidney left the stockade? But how, and for what?’ ‘Sidney went for help to the post; but Mr, Bunker came out to save you. Ob, Maddie, es darling! he loves you!—you will never now how much! He nearly went crazy when. .F found that you had not reached the stock- ade.’ ‘‘ Hush! hush!” eried Madeline, putting ber hand over her friend’s mouth, and even trying to thrust ber out of her arms. Every vestige of blood bad fled her cheeks and lips: Her eyes flashed; she panted and trembled and seemed to sbrivk as if afraid. Ramirez had gone in quest of Colorado Steve. Now that he had the one thing for which he had invested the glen, aside from bis natural lust for revenge, he was anxious to put her in a place of security, Not fearing that the savages would under- stand her, Ruth bad allowed her voice to swell into a murmur as she told of Old Buncomb’s love. And that fortunate gentleman stood so near that be caught enough to understand the cause of Miss Fortescue’s emotion! Ruth clung to her and persisted: ‘“OH, you must let me tell you! He was so frantic that he came near sacrificing himself and all the rest of us, But be was grand—you should baye seen and heard bim!—when he seized your mother’s wrist and cried:—‘J wilh fetch your daughter back to you!’ Then he
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FA sow open the gate and rushed out into the very teeth of the Indians! And, oh, Maddie! but for Sidney, he would have been captured and no doubt tortured by that villainous Col- orado Steve! Sidney saved him and all of us!” By this time Madeline was hugging and kiss- ing her friend with sobs'of delight that for the time banished all sense of ber present situation. And Old Buncomb was—‘“ taking it all in!” Meanwhile Senor Ramirez had found his partner. ‘* Look you, Senor Estevan!” he said. ‘* We have the beautiful senoritas, Is it not so?” “Waal, I sw’ar!” cried the literal Steve. “Do you have to ask me, when you have jest seen ’em with your own eyes?” “Good!” replied Ramirez, “You saw me cs the commandant’s sunny-baired daugh- ter? “The towhead? Yaas!” assented the uncom- ‘promising admirer of black-eyed ‘‘ Wenuses.” ** Did you notice anything strange at that ren- counter?” “Come! come! I ain’t a-guessin’ o’ conun- drums so much as I used to was! What in Cain air ye tryin’ to git though ye, anyhow?” “Did not ye notice thet neither this Senor Bunkero nor the rattle-bead of a boy was among those who came through the sally-port?” ** Waal, I suppose they was inside, along of a lot more. There didn’t buta handful git out. But what o’ that?” ** Ah! but would not they have been of that handful, if they had been in there to come out?” Colorado Steve uttered an oath, as he always did when his more subtle artner arrested his attention by reasoning out something which’ had escaped his slower brain. ** Moreover,” pursued Ramirez, ‘‘ the boy is in love with the commandant’s daughter. Curse him! I will yet drink his heart’s blood!” “Stow your Greaser nonsense!” cried Steve, impatiently , ‘and give us what you make of all o’ this!” ‘Well, if the boy bad been in the stockade when the fair Ruth was dragged away, he would not have been content to remain shut up in that burning trap without making an attempt to rescue her. Therefore be was not within.” ‘*But whar in thunder was he then?” ‘Suppose he and the Senor Bunkero came out through thesally-port while yet it was dark, and rode to the post to the northward?” Once more Colorado Steve swore. “Took you!” said his partner. ‘* The stock- ade will not bold a living man more than ten or fifteen minutes longer. They will be forced to make another sortie. But the Indians are here to receive them, and not a man will escape. Why, then should we wait? The soldiers may be here at any moment; and then it will be too late for us to hope to get the ladies away. One scream vill betray us.” ‘Curse ’em! we kin slit their gullets ef they go to squeakin’!” “True. But if you like yours so, you will ardon me if I prefer mine with the blood in er veins!” “ Waal, I suppose it won't do no hurt to be ready’ to git, ef we’re druy to it.” And Colorado Steve, who was ready enough of action when he had determined upon it, dashed off in the direction of the prisoners. It was me for him that-he did so without more delay; for he had scarcely reached them when he heard the thud of the soldiers’ horses’ hoofs. Then came their fierce yell as they charged the savages. ‘“‘Hyar! Fetch them hosses! ly!” chled Colorado Steve. And for a moment all was wild confusion and hurry. Now was the time to try Old Buncomb’s nerve! Here was help just “s hand. If he lost Senna er! when would another present tse A man of less thorough self-command might have cried out to the girls torun, and then have drawn his revolvers and fought the Outcasts and their savage allies single-handed, to cover their retreat. 4 what would have been the probable re- sult? They were women, untrained to meet a sud- den emergency with "that iron presence of mind which nothing can distract. They were un- warned of his presence. During their captivity pect had given a thought to planning an es- or seizing upon any opportunity which might offer. The most important point—that Old Buncomb was disguised as an Indie ian— Ruth bad for; roman Lively !—live- tten to mention, in ber interest in the c side of the affair; so Madeline, who Soe = Reorauiagte tn tier tec et Scie Tornado, was most self-possessed, would not be prepared to have one bearing the semblance of a savage speak to her of esca Even when they com- prehended, to have t 8 hope of liberation thrust upon them so abruptly would throw them into confusion; and they would be as apt to run in the wrong direction as in the right. Their natural instinct would be to keep together; and in the effort at mutual protection invaluable time would be lost, Then there was another and more terrible consideration. Seeing them likely to escape, the savages might stop their flight witha whiz- ziug vomabawk or a keen-pointed knife. No; he could not take this fearful risk. He must wait, When they were mounted end in rapid motion on the open plain and in the dark- ness, then they would te more evenly matched against their captors, if an opportunity offered to fly. Then the fleet powers of the animal which his foresight bad secured for Madeline would tell. It was natural that his first thought should be for Madeline; but he bad the gener- osity to manage so that Ruth was mounted on the horse that he had selected for bimself. All the chances of the situation flashed through his mind like lightning; and be was the most prompt and the most active of those who second- ed Colorado Steve's efforts. So much s0, in- deed, that Steve noticed him, and speaking in Apache, said: ‘*You act as if you had some snap to you. Ride close behind me with this spit-fire,”—in- dicating Wild Zeph—‘ and if she tries to come any of her fancy dodges, put your knife into er!’ “Good!” grunted Old Buncomb in true In- dian fashion. And lifting the half-breed in his arms, he put her on the horse assigned to her, In order that she might retain her seat, it was necessar to unbind her hands, While she was busy with her, she bent quickly so as to bring her lips close to his ear, and electrifiedhim by whisper, ing: ‘I know you! I recognized your voice. You see I have not betrayed you. Why? I want my revenge, and you can help me to it, while serving yourself, Give me a nife—you have two of them. I will help you to escape with the women you have come to save. Why, when I hate one of them so? Because I hunger and thirst for my revenge more than I long to see her suffer! Give me a knife, I say!” ‘Old Buncomb was as’ onished by her keenness of observation. It was true that he had two knives—his own and the one he had taken from the savage to whom he owed his disguise. “Wait!” he said. ‘ pat bin are really faith- ful to me, I will know when your opportunity comes.” She seemed content with that, perhaps be- cause she felt confidence in his judg ment, Then they rode out through thee hills to the open plain, to the westward, while the soldiers bag chasing the savages through the blacken- len toward the southern pass, into which Tite e Tornado had dashed to warn them of the peril that followed at his heels. CHAPTER XII. THE HALF-BREED’S REVENGE. SENOR RAMIREZ iode in advance, on Ruth’s right; Colorado Steve rode next, but on the left band of bis lady. So much was accidental. But Old Buncomb took his position deliberately, determined by the position of those in advance. He placed bimself on Wild Zeph’s right. This brought him on the same side with Senor Ramirez, with Madeline between them; while Wild Zeph was directly behind Colorado Steve. The Indians, now increased in number to a dozen or fifteen by those whom Steve -had a with him, surrounded them like a body- guar In this order they dashed out upon the ne the positions of the six remaining relatively the same, though the savages shifted poapprohint, Now they were a little further forward, now a little further back. Old Buncomb waited for a time when none of them should be behind him, so that his act would be detected. Then he thrust a knife into Wild Zeph’s hand, The half-breed clutched it with the avidity of a drowning wretch fastening his death-grip on arope, Then she spurred her horse forward with its point; and the next instant buried it to the hilt in Colorado Steve’s back! “Die, you accursed traitor!” she shrieked, so as to draw all eyes upon her, and leave not a doubt as to what bad been done and who had done it. Her aim had been deadly. She had planted the weapon just below the shoulder-blade, to the left of the spine, Its point must have reached Colorado Steve’s evil heart. He threw up bis hands with a blood-curdling gasp which told of almost instant death. He only looked over his shoulder with a stare of horror; possibly recognized his slayer; and then fell backward between his horse and that ridden by Madeline. But while his fast-glazing eyes were upon her, Wild Zeph spat in his face, so fierce was her bitter resentment of the insults he had heap- ed upon her by courting her rival in her pre- sence. Then while he was falling away from her she struck it with her open palm. But she was not yet done, and it was lucky that Old Buncomb bad not trusted fully to her apes faith. He hdd his eye upon her, on the okout for some act of treachery. It was not in Indian nature to forego her resentment tc- ward Madeline, What be feared—what he had to take the risk of for the sake of an advantage which he hoped to.gain by her assault upon Steve—fol- lowed instantly upon her successful disposal of the first object of her hatred. Unable to reach Madeline across Colorado Steve’s horse, Old Buncomb saw the mad crea- ture throw back ber hand preparatory to burl- ing her knife at Madeline, with the deadly accuracy which makes the bowie in skillful hands as fatal a weapon at a few paces distance as in close combat. But be was ready for her; and as loth as he was to wound her, a woman, Madeline’s preser- vation demanded that he shoot at her band, even while he spurred his horse forward be- tween Madeline and Colorado Steve, riding directly over the latter as he fell. The bullet sped straight to its mark, piercing the back of ber hand. As the knife fell from her grasp behind her, she uttered a scream of re e hate and pain. If sbe could have got at Old Buncomb, she would have torn him with her nails, But self-preseryation is not the last thing that even a ‘jealous Indian beauty thinks of; and, accepting the defeat of that part of her revenge she reined her horse to the left and plunged into the darkness. ** After her! after her!” cried Old Buncomb, in the Apache tongue. ‘‘ The Jezebel bas slain our white chief. Take ber alive for tor- ture!” It was not wanton cruelty that prompted this suggestion; but if she was shot, there would be nothing to take the savages away from the spot, while what he needed, in order to make sure of his escape with the girls, was the excite- ment of achase, when there would be no one to observe him too closely. Senor Ramirez unwittingly aided his plan; for enraged at the thought of losing the part- ner who was so useful to him—and all for the bps; of a woman—he, too, urged the savages * Foresvtal of their prisoners, or thinking that Senor Ramirez could manage them alone, they dashed after Wild Zeph in a body. The next instant Senor Ramirez was as- tonished to find bimself seized by the throxus and dragged over the withers of Old Buncomb’s horse, while that supposed Indian still called after ‘the pursuers in their own tongue, urging them not to let the fugitive escape if they bad to chase her into the Gulf of Mexico. Ramirez would have cried out for help, but he found himself in the grip of a giantin strength. In spite of his wildest struggles to at least slip off the horse’s back, he was held fast; while the grip on bis throat seemed to grow tighter and tighter until bis eyes protruded from their’sockets, the veins in his face swelled almost to bursting, his ears rung and his brain reeled, Still that remorseless grip did not relax, until he hung limp and insensible across the lap of bis captor. Meanwhile Old Buncomb had not held his own tongue beceuse he found it advantageous to bold Senor Ramirez’s throat. “ Madeline !—Ruth!—it is T! Do you recognize me?—Old Buncemb! About face for the glen; and don’t spare horse-flesh !” A sharp: cry, almost instantly suppressed, escaped Ruth; but Madeline, though she was coda to her heart’s center, only said, in a low ton “Ob, Mr. Bunker!” The next instant she had wheeled into line
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at with him, and had reached out and put her hand on his arm, while she leaned forward so as tc bring her face near enough to see him in the darkness. Ruth was on the other side, with her face turned toward the savages. Old Buncomb leaned toward Madeline, so as to meet ber balf-way, which brought their faces within a foot of each other. ‘“‘Ruth has told you,” he said, with a fine vibration in his voice. ‘Is it all right?” ** Yes!” she answered, her own voice thrilling with a passion at that moment intensified by atitude and the flood of emotion that came with the new sense of freedom and the know- ledge that she owed it to him from whom it was a delight to take life and love andall! ‘Oh, Hugh!” He laughed a low, happy laugh; and then asked: “ May 1?” The longing of her own heart told her what { he meant; and she answered: he “Tf you can!” “Can!” he cried, with a great swelling of the heart. ‘‘I can do anything that leads me to you, my darling! my love! my joy!” And watching for a time when their horses were in step, he cried: * Hold still—now!” oo their lips met in a kiss as sweet as it was short. “Well, I declare!” cried Ruth, looking round in time to catch them at this pretty folly. ‘If that isn’t what [ call love-making under diffi- culties.” “Don’t be envious, Ruth,” laughed Old Bun- comb. ‘‘ Who has been setting us the example all summer, I’d like to know : “Not I—if that’s what you mean to insin- uate.” Ob, oh!” cried Old Buncomb, in a tone which implied that that was a ‘‘ whopper.” Then he laughed again, notwithstanding the fact that at this moment the savages discov- ered that the prisoners were making for the glen at top speed. In the darkness they could not make out whether they were accompanied by Senor Ram- irez or not, and thinking that perhaps one of the girls had succeeded as well with him as Wild Zeph had with his partner, and having a wholesome fear of the soldiers, they desisted from their pursuit of Wild Zeph, thereby allo-- = tains to seek safety for themselves. hen Old Buncomb neared the glen he told the girls to ride ahead, and to say’ nothing about his prisoner. Not knowing what this sig- ‘ified, they obeyed him implicitly. They found the commandant recovered from the stunning blow he had received on the head, ad bemoaning the loss of his daughter, while Little Tornado was just completing the prepa- rations for going in search of their trail, The soldiers had returned from the running fight, and the settlers were dropping in one by one, In spite of the general loss of life as well as property, the happy reunion of the families with which we have been most nearly interest- ed was shared by all; for Ruth and Madeline were the ce of the glen, And when it was found that the chaplain of the post bad accom- panied the Boys in Blue; and Old Bun- comb, having removed the stains from his face, and proving to bea very comely man of not more than thirty, urged the need of Madeline and her mother to all the assistance thev could get to re establish their fallen fortunes—then no one denied the propri ty of a quiet wedding, with Ruth and Little Ternado for bridemaid and best man. Little Tornado looked very rueful and Ruth very shame-faced, when it was suggested that they would have to wait until they were old enough to grace a happier occasion. The soldiers took their departure, promising ag to bring assistance to the destitute settlers in the er morning. iy Then Old Buncomb quietly drew the male & portion of the settlers aside; and among the ee ills they went through a very different cere- fy Bey in which Senor Ramirez was the central ‘ gure. As the captain of the knew nothing about this officially, be had carefully complied with the mysterious request not to ask ques- tions!—he was not responsible, if the most regu- lar forms of law were disregarded. But there—as here—was an end to the Out- caste of the Glen! ing her to escape, and turned toward the moun- Little Tornado. ‘Beadle's Half-Dime Library. BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 7s Blue Dick; or, The Yellow Chief's Vengeance. 87 The Land Pirates; or, The League oi Devil’s Island, 187 The Helpless Mand; or, Backwoods Retribution. 289 The Gold-seeker Guide; or, The Lost Mountain. BY GEORGE C. JENKS, 485 Git Thar Owney the Unknown. 492 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. 518 The Demon Doctor. BY WM. G. PATTEN. 489 The Diamond ring * or, The Double Face of Bed Rock 519 Captain Mystery ; or, Five in One, 581 Daisy Dare tue Sport from Denver. BY BRACEBRIDGE HEMYNG, 89 Ialand Jim: or, The Pet of the Family. 91 The Captain of the Club; or. The Rival Athletes. 101 Jack Markaway in New York, BY MAJOR LEWIS W. CARSON. 278 The Three Trappers; or, The Mountain Monster. 288 Indian Joc; or, The White Spirit of the Hills. BY LIFUT. H. D. PERRY, U. 8. N. 176 The Boy Runaway; or, The Buccaneer of the Bay. 180 The Sea Trafler; or, A Vow Well Kept. 192 Captain Kit; or, The Mystery of Montauk Point. BY HARRY HAZARD.: 828 Arkansaw Jack; or, The Scourge of the Mines. 829 Red-Skin Tom Rad The Demon’s Trail. 842 The Mountain Devil; or, Yellow Jack, the Outlaw. BY COL. A. F. HOLT. 899 Black Buckskin; or, The Masked Men of Death ¥ 419 Kenneth, the Knite-King. _— Caagee 485 Little Lightfoot, the Pilot of the Woods, BY FRANK DUMONT. 120 The Branded Hand; or, The Man of Mystery. a $4 yer the om ~ Road, ue AZER; OF, e Break o’ Day Boys of ky Bar. 171 Ebony Dan; or, The Rival pecan mae 185 Evil Eye; or, The. Vultures of the Rio Grande. BY W. J. HAMILTON, 68 The Red Brotherhood; or, The Twelve Avengers, 66 Single Hand; or, A Life for a Life. 72 Mad Tom Western, the Texan Ranger. 887 Ben Bird, the Cave King; or, Big Pete’s Scoop. BY J. W. OSBON. 469 The Rival Giant« of Nowhar’. 498 Cactus Burr, the Man trom Hard Luck, 587 Old Buckeye, the Sierra Shadow. 564 Powder Phil, the Boy Miner. BY MARRY 8ST. GEORGE. 80 Roaring te oy Rockwood, the Ranger. 44 Rattling Rube; or, The Nighthawks of Kentucky, 59 Old Hickory ; or, Pandy Ellis’s Scalp. 108 During Davy ; or, The Trail of the Border Wolf. 166 Mickory Harry ; or, The Trapper-Brigade’s Spy. 172 Thunderbolt Tom; or, the Woif-Herder. BY MAJOR E. L. 8ST. VRAIN, 292 Sancho Pedro, the Boy Bandit. 801 Leadville Nick, the Boy Sport. 812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince. 888 Brimstone Keb, and His Lightning Horse Quartette, 852 ‘Tombstone Tom, the Arizona Boy of “ Sand.’”} B59 Durango ave, the Young Chanson Wrestler. 871 Kingbolt Chris, the Young Hard-Shell Detective, 880 Avalanche Alf, the Foothills Guide. 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountuin Mail-Line. BY EDWARD 8. ELLIS. 6 Bill Siddon, Treee Seth Jones; or, The Captives of tne Frontier, 10 Nat Todd; or, The Fate of the Sioux Captive. 21 The Frontier Angel. 98 The Boy Miners; or, The Enchanted Island. 182 The Ilunted Hunter; or, The Strange Horseman, 254 The Half-Blood ; or, The Panther of the Plains. 271 The Muge Hunter; or, The Steain Prairie Man. BY ROGER STARBUCK. 25 The Boy Captain: or, The Pirate’s Daughter. 114 The Black Schooner; or, Jib Junk, the Old Tar. 259 The Golden Harpoon; or, Lost Among the Floes. 848 Fire-Heels; or, Old Skinfliyt, the Death-Shadow. 854 Rig Horn Ike, the Hill Tramp; or, The Odd Pards, 861 The Phantom Liht-house. 870 Breaker Ken, the Reef-Runner. BY GEORGE WALDO BROWNE. 86 Dandy Rock the Man from Texas. 90 The Dread Rider; or, The Texan Duelist. 99 The Tiger of Tuos; or, Dandy Rock’s Angel. 115 The Mad Miner: or, Dandy Rock's Doom. 181 The Golden Hand; or, Dandy Rock to the Rescue, 164 Dandy Rock’s Pledge ; or, Hunted to Death. 178 Dandy Rock’s Rival? or, The !/aunted Maid of Taos. BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER. 15 The Sea-Cnat; or, The Witch of Darien. 29 The Dumb Page; or, The Doge’s Daughter. 48 Dick Darling, t 3 Foun Express Rider. Ted Whe denen fier 2, Tea calisees of tee COR wei wor u or, The Land of the Elephan' 159 The ntera; a Polar Sea, 200 The Boy Bedoutins; or, The Brothers of the Plumed Lance, 214 W alfcans, the Robber of the Rhine. 249 mule tomer, the Animal King; or, The Round the World anderer. > 265 The ee Tamer; or, The League of the Jungle. a 1 Blae ick, the De Rider. S55 Calitore te ye ree iter it Captain ; or, Skipper Jabez Coffin’s Cruise to the BY EDWARD WILLETT. 167 Asa Scott, the Steamboat Boy. 199 Featherweight the Boy Champion of the Muskingum. 228 Ozark Alf; or, Featherweight Among the Outlaws. 282 The Typo Detective; or, Weasel, the Boy Tramp. 295 Fearless Phil; or, The King of Quartzville. $11 The Koving Sport; or, The Pride of Chuckaluck Camp, 822 Nemo, the Detective; or, Kit Kenyon'’s Vendetta, Clip the Contortionist; or, The Montana Vigilantes. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, 11 The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes of a Bowery Girl. 76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. 79% Sol Ginger, the Giant Tra per. . 288 Joe Buck of Angels and Hix Boy Pard. 447 New York Nat. A Tale of Tricks and Traps in Gotham 458 New England Nick; or, The Fortunes of a Foundling, 464 Nimble Nick, the Circus Prince. 498 Taos Ted, toe Arizona Sport. 510 Cool Colorado, the Hal!-Breed Detective. 518 Cool Colorado in New York. BY CAP. J. F. C. ADAMB. 84 Oregon Sol; or, Nick Whiffies’s Boy Spy. 46 Glasa-Eye, the Great Shot of the West, 54 Ned Hazel, the Boy Trapper. 56 Nick W hiffies’s Pet 3 or, In The Valley of Death, 60 The White Indian; or, The Scovt of the Yellowstone 70 Old Zip’s Cabin; or, The Greenhorn in the Woods, 81 Lightning Jo, the Terror of the Prairie. t Buck Buekram ; or, Bess, the Female Trapper, 247 Old Grizzly and His Pets; or, The Wild Huntress, 251 Light-house Lige; or, Osceola, the Firebrand. : 257 The Lost Hunters; or, The Underground Camp, 288 The Scalp King; or, The Human Thunderpolt. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. 2 Vellowatone Jack ¢ or, The Trapper. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat. - 65 Hurricane Bill; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard. \ 119 Mustang Sam $¢ or, The King of the Plains. 186 Night-lkawk Kit; or, The Daughter of tie Ranch, 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul: or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. 160 The Black Giant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy, 168 Deadly i or, Fighting Fire with Fire. 184 The Boy Trailers ; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path, 208 The Boy Pards; or, Dainty Lance Unmasks. 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City. 810 The Barranca W olf; or, The Beautiful Decoy. 819 The Black Rider ; or, The Horse-Thieves’ League, 885 Old Double Fist; or, The Strange Guide. 855 The King of the Wooda: or Usniei Boone’s Last Trail, 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. BY BUCKSKIN 8AM (Major Sam. 8. Hall.) 284 Ola Resky*s **Boyees 3” or, Benito, the Young Horse~ - reaker. . 246 Glant George; or, The Ang’! of the Range. 275 Arizona Jack; or, Giant George’s Pard. 297 The Tarantula of Spin? or, Giant George’s Revenge, 807 The Strange Pard; or, Little Ben’s Death Hunt. 818 ker-whoop, Ker-whoo; or, The Tarantula of Taos, 827 Creeping Bat, the Caddo; or, The Red and White Pards, 882 Frio Fred; or, The Tonkaway’s Trust. 844 The Fighting Trio; or, Rattlesnake, the Tonkaway. 849 Wild Wolf; or, Big-Foot Wallace to the Front. 857 The Ranch Raiders; or, The Siege of Fort Purgatory. 864 Snap-Shot, the Boy Ranger. 875 Chiota, the Creek; or, The Three Thunderbolts. 881 Bandera Balt; or. Frio Frank to the Front. 892 Romeo and the Reds; or, The Beleaguered Ranch. 404 Little Lariat; or, Pecan Pete’s Big Rampage. 414 The Daisy from Denver. 427 The Three Tralilers; or, Old Rocky on the Rampage, 442 Bluff Bill; or, The Lynx of the Leona. 455 Little Lone Star: or, The Belle of the Cibolo. MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORS. 4 The Wild-Horse Ilunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Frederick Whittaker. ‘ 9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen, 12 Gulliver’s Travels. By Dean Swift. 14 Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp. 16 Robinson Crusoe, (27 I/lustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven tame 22 The Sea Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe. By Juan Lewis. 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates of the Carribers. By 8S, W. Pierce, 86 The Boy Clown; or, The Queen ofthe Arena. By Frank Finn. 88 Ned Wylde. the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. — $1 7 Boy Rifles; or, The Underground Camp. By Archie ta * . Irona. - 95 The Rival Rovers; or, The Freebooters of the Mississippt. By Lieut.-Col. Hazeltine. 98 Robin Hood, the Outlawed Earl; or, The Merry Men of Green- & wood. By Prof. Gildersleeve. : - 105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, The Crow Captive. By Captain Z Hamilton Holmes. : 112 The Mad Hunter: or, The Cave of Death. By Burton Saxe. Se 124 Tippy, the Texan; or, The Young Champion. By George —— Slerson. i ,> 128 The Young Privateer; or, The Pirate’s Stronghold. By és Harry Cavendish. i 148 Sharp Sam; or, The Adventures of a Friendless Boy. By J; Alexander Patten. 227 Dusky Darrell, Trapper: or, The Green Ranger of the Yel- pT lowstone. By Edward Emerson. , eS 3-4 : 261 Fergus Fearnaught the New York Boy. By George L. +3 en. 7 el 266 Killb’ar, the Guide; »r, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail. an By Ensign C. D. Warren, * ae 298 Red Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid of the Cliff, peat, By Captain Comstock. ft 817 Peacock Pete, the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Lien- Dia tenant Alired Thorne. he 828 The Sky Ibe*ective; or, A Boy’s Fight for Life and Honos. ET n- by Maior Mickey Free. i4 850 Ked Ralph, the River Rover; or, The Brother’s Re ‘ag venge. By Ned Bun tline. b 865 Baltimore Ren the Bootblack Detective. By A. P. Morris, = 874 Geld-Dust Tom; or, Ben’s Double Match, By George HH, orse. , 876 California Joe’s First Trail. By Colonel) Thomas 418 Billy Romboh By F. 8. Winthrop. bahell, the Cliff Climber. . 5. : 475 The Black ‘chin, By John 8. Warner. Loa Comanche Dick and His Three Invincibles, By Henrv J. Thomas. 523 Wizard-Arm, the Dandy Sport. By Arthur F. Holt, ke Forrest. 582 The Cowboy Duk dwin : 552 Ariel the At letes By David Druid. A New Iasue Every Tuesday. ‘ The Half- Dime Library is for sale by all newsdoalers, five | cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, | 98 William Street, New York, | 4 .
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“* => aa nae ne Heo EY SS eT 4 Oe ee wet a = fe hs am i re ey BEADLE’S« H ALF- [)IME* LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novela. 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road. 20 Double Daggers + or, Deadwood Dick’s Defiance, 28 Buffalo Ken; or, Deadwood Dick in Disguise. 85 Wilda Ivan, the Boy Claude Duval. 42 Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza, 49 Omaha OL; or, Deadwood Dick in Danger. Bi Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 7B Deadwood Dick on Deck; or. Calamity Jane, the Heroine, @7 Corduroy Charlie ;_ or, Deadwood Dick’s Last Act. 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville. 104 Deadwood Dick's Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. 129 Deadwood Dick's Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s Gulch. 188 Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base, 149 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick's Big Strike, 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood}; or, The Picked Party. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream; or, The Rivuls of the Road. 201 The Black Hills Jezebel; or, Deadwood Dick’s Ward. 205 Deadwood Dick's Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Last Ad- venture. 217 Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. 221 Sugar-Coated Sam; or, The Black Gown, 282 Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Tonghs, 268 Deadwood Dick’s Divides or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail. 809 Deadweed Dick’s Big Deal; or, The Gold Brick of regon, 821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. 847 Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Rainy Days in the Dig- gings., 851 Deadwood Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta, B62 Dasdwaed Dick’s Claim; or, The Fairy Face of Faro mis. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. 410 pescwegs Dick’s Diamonds ; or, The Mystery of Joan urter. 421 Deadwood Dick in New York; or, A “Cute Cave,” 480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand. 448 Deadwood Dick, Jr. 448 Nickel-Plate Ned; «1, Deadwood Dick Jr's Defiance. 458 panpower Sam, of Shasta; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Fall and, 459 Pinch Fan, the Ferret; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Big Ronnd- 465 Philo Fly, of Phenix; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Racket at Claim 10 471 Bozeman Bill; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Corral. 476 Humboldt Harry, the Hurricane; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Dog, Detective. 481 Moll Myatery; or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Deadwood. 491 Prince Pistol, the King of the West; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Compact. 496 Monte Cristo, Jr. or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Inheritance. 500 Deadwood Dick’s Diggings s or, Dr. Death-Grip’s Swoop. 508 Deadwood Dick’s Deliverance. 515 Deadwood Dick’s Protegee. 522 Deadwood Dick’s Three. 529 Deadwood Dick's Danger Ducks, 584 Deadwood Dick’s Death Hunt. 539 Deadwood Dick Jr., in Texas. 544 Deadwood Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidoeg, 549 Deadw. Dick on His Mettle. 554 Deadwood Dick, Jr. in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick 1 Boston. 567 Deadwood Bek r., in Philadelphia, 572 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago. Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 26 Clovén Woof, the Buffalo Demon. 82 Bob Woolf; or, The Girl Dead-Shot, 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York, 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, des the Boy Phenix. or, The Red Rifle Team. 69 Gold Rifle, the S shooter; or, The Boy Detective. 80 Rosebud Ttob he r, Nugget Ned, the Knight, 84 Idyl, the Girk Miner}; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 88 Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reap nce. 92 Canada Chet 3; or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Hall's Camp. 96 Watch-Eye; or, Arabs and Angels of a Great City, 118 Jaek Hoyle sthe Young Speculater. 117 Gilé- Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner. 188 Boss Bob the King of Bootblacks, 141 Solid Sam, tbe Boy Road-Agent. 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective; or, Boss Bob’s Job. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Scamps, 181 Wild Frank, the Baockskin Bravo, 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The hime snne Hunter, 226 Snoozer, the Boy Sharp; or, The Arab Detective, 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator. 244 Sierra Sam, tho Frontier Ferret. 245 Slerra Sam's Sceret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Sierra Sam’s Pard; or, The Angel ot Big Vista, 25S Sterra Sam’s Seven; or, The Stolen Bride, 278 Jumbo Joe, the Boy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 281 Denver Doll's Victory. 255 Denver Doll’s Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, 291 Turk, the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’s Dritt; or, The Road Queen. 299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. 808 ’Liza Jane, the irl Miner; or. the Iron-Nerved Sport, 825 Kelley, Mickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphia, B80 Little Quick-Shot 3 or, The Dead Face of Daggeraville. $4 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner. 889 Kangaroo Kit’a Racket. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood, B58 Firat-Class Fred, ‘he Gent trom Gopher. 868 proke Jim, the Gold-Gatherer}; or, The Lottery of ste. 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. 878 Nabob Ned; or, The Secret of Slab City. BS2 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance. BR5 Yreka Jim’s Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nose. 889 Bicycle Ben; or, The Livn of Lightning Lode, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 Wigh Hat Harry, the Base Bali Detective. 426 Sam Slabsides, the Beggar-Boy Detective. 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives, 8 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. 6 Sealskin Sam, tho Sparkler. BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon, Wm. F. Cody), Kansas King; or, The Red Right Hand. he Ph : or, The Pilot of the Prairie, tom y-By the Unknown Scout. er bbin Mood; or, The Prairie Rover. aney Frank of Colorado}; or, The Trapper’s Trast, SUE ee a BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 Will Somers, the Boy Detective. 122 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune Pete}; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. 180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, 147 Will Wildtire, the Thoroughbred. 152 Black Keas, Wi!l Wildfire’s Racer. 157 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy, 162 WIll Wildfire In the Woods, 165 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy. 170 A Truom Card} or, Will Wildtire Wins and Loses, 174 Reb Rockett}; or, Mysteries of New York. 179 Bob peonatt the Bank Runner, 188 The Hidden Handy; or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge. 187 Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smuggiers, 189 Bob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. 196 Shadowed; or, Bob Rockett’s Fight for Life, 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. 220 Tom Tanner}; or, The Black Sheep of the Flock. 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two * Bloods”; er, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. 252 Dick Dashaway ; or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago. 262 ‘The Young Sharps; or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail, 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim’s Job; or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughbred. 805 Dashaway, of Dakota; or, A Western Lad in the Quaker City. 824 Ralph, Ready, the Hote] Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective, 858 The Reporter-Detective; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard, B67 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. 879 Larry, the Leveler; or, The Bloods of the Boulevard. 408 Firelly Jack, the River-Rat Detective. 428 The Lost Finger ; or, ‘The Entrapped Cashier. 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 482 Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Brick, the Jolly Vagabond. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive. 479 Detective Dodge; or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket. 501 Boots, the Boy Fireman ; or, Too Sharp for the Sharper, 566 The Secret service Boy Detective, BY OLL COOMES, 5 Vagahond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew, 18 The Dumb Spy. 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. 1 Keen-Kuilfe, the Prince of the Prairies. 41 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 58 The Border Rings or, The Secret Foe. 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. 74 Hawk-eye Morzg the Young Trapper Ranger. 88 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. 184 Sure Shoat Seth, the Boy, Rifleman. 148 Scar-Face Saul, tie Silent Hunter 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. 158 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. 168 Little Texas, the Young Mustanger, 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 182 Little Murricane, the Boy Captain. 202 ogee Pete ; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters. 208 The Boy Mercules : or, The Prairie Tramps, 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror. 224 paca Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castle. 228 isittle Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger. 248 The Dingulned Guide ; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, 260 Dare-DevilL Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. 272 Minkskin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter, 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy 800 The Sky Demon} or, Rainbolt, the Ranger, B84 Whip- Bie oe, the Boy Ranchero. 409 Hereu or, Dick, the Boy Ranger, aii Webfoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. Raby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone. Little Buckakin, thé Young Prairie Centaur, 57 W ingedfoo Fred 3 or, Old Polar Saul. 68 Tamarac ‘Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. 78 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic, 2 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. 562 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. BY T. ©. HARBAUGH, 28 Nick o’ the Night}; or, The Boy Spy of ’76. BT The Hidden Lodge; or The Littl: Hunter. AT Nightingale Nat; or, Tne Forest Captains, 64 Dandy Jack’ or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trai, 82 Kit Harefoot the Weod-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack 3 or, The Bey Trapper. 106 Old Froaty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch, Jr.t or, The Boy Vigilante. 155 Gold Trigger, the Rports or, The Girl Avenger. 169 Tornado Tomy; or, Injuon Jack From Red Core, 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. 198 Arkansaw ; or, The Queen of Fate’s Revenge, 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullets or, Little Tonknot’s Crusade, 281 Plucky Phil; or, Rosa, the Ret Jezebel, 241 Bill Bravo; or, The Roughs of the Rockies, 255 Captain Apoli ., tne King-Pin of Bowle. 267 The Buckskin Detective. 279 Old Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperadoes, 294 Dynamilie Dan; or, The Bowle Blade of Cochetopa, 802 The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Bully, 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Card of Arizona, 826 The Ten Parda: or, The Terror of Take-Notice. 8836 Big Benson; or, The Queen of the Lasso. 845 Pitiless Matt; ov, Red Thunderbolt’s Secret. B56 Cool sam and Pard, ov The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective, 886 Captain Cutlass; or, | he B-ccaneer’s Girl Foe, 896 Rough Rob; or, The | win Champions of Blue Blazes, 411 The Silken Lasso: or, The Rose of Ranch Robin, 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump, tie Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. 445 The City Vampires; or, Ked Rolfe’e Pigeon. 461 One Against Fifty ; or, ‘lhe Last Man of Keno Bar, 470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox's Hunt. A477 The Exceisior Sport: or, The Washington Spotter. 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret. 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective, 521 Dodger Pick’s Best Dodge. 528 Fox and Falcon, the Bowery Shadows. B88 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. 548 Dodger Dick’s Double; or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 558 Dodeer Dick’« Deaperate Case. 568 Dodger Dick, the Boy Vidorg, 578 The Two Shadows, ts \ ss“ ehges pay cee ee BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 7 The Piving Yankee; or, The Ocean Outcast, 17 Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccan. er; or, The Fugitive Yacht, 24 Diamond Dirk Len The Mystery of the Yellowstone, 62 The Shadow Ship; or. The Rival Lieutenants. 75 The Boy Dnellat; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf. 02 Dick Dend-Eye, the Boy Smuggier. 11 The Sea-Devil; or, The Midshipman’s Legacy. 16 The Hussar pg oe 3 or, ‘The Hermit of Hell Gate, YT Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. 04 Gold Plume; or, The Kid-Glove Sport. 16 Bison BIL, the Prince of the Reiris, 222 Grit, the Bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer. 229 Crimson Kate}; or, The Cowboy’s Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy 3 or, The Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman Mutineer ; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer. 264 ine Floating Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure sland, 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’s Crulse; or, The Chase of “The Gold Ship.” 280 Merle Monte’s Fate; or, Pearl, the Pirnte’s Bride. 284 The Sea Marauder} or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. 804 The Dead Shot Dandy 3 or, Benito, the Boy Bugler, 808 Keno Kits or, Dend Shot Dandy’s Double. 81 The Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Long rail. 877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover} or, The Flagies+ Schooner. 888 The Indian Pllot; or, The Search for Pirate Island. 887 Warpath WIIl, the Boy Phantom. 898 Seawalf, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 Iaodor, the Young Conspirator ; or, The Fatal League. 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta, 412 The ila VYaechtaman; or, The War-Cleua’s Oruise, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Bay's Lueck; or, The Corsair. 487 The Sea Raider. 441 The Ocean Firefly ; or, A Middy’s Vengeance. 446 HMaphazard, Harry; or, The Scapegrace of the Sea, 450 Wizard Will: or, The Boy Ferre: of New York. 4564 Wizard WIII’s Street Scouts. 462 The Born Guide; or, The Sailor Boy Wanderer. 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Conster. 474 Flora; or, Ward Will’s Vagabond Pard. 488 Ferreta Afloats or, Wizard Wil)’s Lunt Case. 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Kauger. 495 Arizoun Joe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack. 497 Buck Taylor, King of the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy ; or, The Shark and the Sea Cat, 507 The Hunted Midshipman. 5611 The Outlawed Middy. 520 Buckskin BIII, the Comanche Shadow. 525 Brothers in Buckskin. 580 The Buckskin Bowers. 585 The Bue skin Rovers. 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder ot the Rio. 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 550 Lafitte’« Legacy: or. Tlie Avenging Son. 555 T Jreole Corsalr, 56 Padnes Bill, the Prairie Shadower. 565 Kent Ki on, the Card King. 570 Camille, the Card Queen, 575 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. B77 Pavement Pete, the Secret Sifter. By Jo Pierce. 578 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Afloat. By Edward L. Wheeler, 579 The Chimney Spy; or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Party” By i. OxCowaa ht oe oe ene B80 The Outenst Cadet; or, The Falsé Detective, By Col. Prentiss Ingrabam. 581 Reb ie:Perne Dan, the Pitcher Detective. en 582 Dodger Dick’s Drop., By T. C. Harbaugh. 588 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow, By Lieut, A, K, Sims. B84 Dendwodd Dick, Jr., in Denver, By Ed. L, Wheeler, 585 Will Waters, the Boy Ferret. By H, Enton. 86 The Buckekin Avenger. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, BST Old Bombshell, the Ranger Detective. By Wm. G. Patten, 588 Jack-o’-Lantern, the Under-Sea Prospector. By Jo Pierce, 589 Tom-Cat and Pard; or, The Dead Set at Silver City. Br Lieut. A. K, Sims. 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr’s., Decree. By E. lL. Wheeler. 591 Delmonte, the Young Sea-Rover. By Col. P Ingraham. 592 The Boy Pinkerton. By J. C. Cowdrick. 8598 Keen Clem, the Ranch Imp. By P. 8. Warne. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. By T. C. Harbaugh, 595 Deatwoed Dick Jr. in Beelzebub’s Basin. By FE. Wheeler. 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. By Chas, orris. bY? The Young Texan Detective, By Col. P. Ing:aham, BYR Flute, the Singer Detective, By Geo. C. Jenks. 599 Jim Dandy, the No-Name Sport. By P. S. Warne. 600 Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. By Edward L. Wheeler. 1 Ha Mana, the Dutch Vidoeq; or, Red-Hot Times at 7 Roa Up. By Lieut. A. K. Sims. 602 The Vagabond of the Mines. By Col. P. Ingraham. 608 Wide-Awake Bert, the Street-Steerer. By Jo, Pieree. 604 Iron Fern, the Man of Fire. By Wm. G. Patten. Ready February 19. 605 William 0’ Broadway; or, The Boy Detective’s Big In- ning. By J. C, Cowdriek. Ready February 26 606 Deadwood Dick Jr’s Leadville Lays; or, Bristol and Bncket’s oom. By E. L. Wheeler. Ready Mareh 5. 607 The Rover Detective; or, Keno Kit’s Champions. By Col. P. Ingraham. Ready Mareh 12. 608 The Pitcher Betective’s Foils, or, Double Curve Dan’s Double Play. By Geo, C. Jenks. Ready March 19. 609 Bolly Dorrit, the Veteran Detective; or, Little Lightning's Invinciles. By John W. Osbon. Ready March 26. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all newsdealers, five conte per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMBS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York, By George C.