Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 404) (1885 04 21)
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FOURTH EDITION. hoe him \ | MANO WE WATS” YH NMI WE tht Za\\ me TAS NAT — S mmol tiny! tpt et it bert $2.50 a year Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mail Rates, Copyright, 1885, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, April 21, 1885, Single PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS Pri Vol. XVI. aa No. 404, Number. No, 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 Cents. BY “BUCKSKIN SAM” (MAJOR SAM S. HALL), AUTHOR OF ‘‘ ROMEO AND THE REDS,” “‘ GIAN® GEORGE,” ‘‘OLD ROCKY’S BOYEES,” ETC. CHAPTER I, PECAN PETE, ‘ SuFFERIN’ Moses, pard! Air yer gittin’ tu- nified? D’yer s’pose, arter skutin’ through ther cussed chap’rel, an’ corralin’ ther condemned coyote, we're goin’ ter low him ter dust out, free an’ airy, ©)’ sashay ’roun’ loose, cuttin’ up, an’ raisin’ Toy het giner ty **Dang me, ef he hadn’t better wabble out a few prays, ef he knows any, fer he’s gut ter swing on a limb, an’ dance on nothin’, in a few fleetin’ periods¢ You hear me sling gab? I mean biz, Ned. Thet’s ther vardict o’ Pecan Pete! ‘ But, Pete, old pard, he swears he is not one of Cortina’s men. Besides, he says that he has important information for Senorita Benton, at the next ranch, and he looks and acts like an i honest boy.” The first speaker was a tall, raw-boned, thin- THE NEXT MOMENT, DOWN THE BED OF THE WASH-OUT, GALLOPED A HANDSOME baced Texan, with long sun-burnt hair, and a WHITE YOUTH, ragged mustache and goatee; the remainder of
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q 4 iad } x his face being very much tanned by sun, smoke, and wind. His eyes were small, black and keen, and were constantly darting from beneath over- hanging brows, sharp and suspicious glances in all directions, indicating a clase acquaintance with constant danger. Revolvers and bowie- knife were belted around him with an old strap of leather, , All in all, he was a good sample of the general run of prairie and chaparral wanderers of the Lone Star State, at the time of which we write. The man whom he addressed, was just the op- posite in many respects. He was young—not more than five-and-twenty —of medium hight, his form ‘well rounded and symmetrical, and his features regular and de- cidedly handsome. A glossy dark-brown mustache and imperial gave him a more manly appearance than he would have otherwise presented. His hair hung low over his shoulders, and was dark brown and wavy. Although he was armed and attired in the same manner as his comrade, his costume was new and showy, and his arms highly orna- mented, The flush of health was upon his face, and honesty was plainly revealed in his dark- blue eyes, as was firmness by the formation of his chin and lip, and in his air and entire poise and carriage. ; Such was Nueces Ned—a perfect type of the young, dashing, and fearless Texans, who, a score of years agone, served as rangers and min- ute-men on the frontiers. Near these two men stood a Mexican youth evidently their captive, his wrists being bound fast with a lariat behind his back, the raw-hide pe trailing on the ground, hile Pecan Pete was speaking, as recorded, he was engaged in jerking the equipments from his horse, with some itnpatience, not to say in- dignation, and Nueces Ned also divested his steed of saddle and bridle at the moment of his interceding in behalf of the prisoner. A third animal, which evidently belonged to the young Mexican, Pete also attended to with quick and nervous movements; the group, meanwhile, standing in a small ‘‘ spen,” amid the far-stretching chaparral, and about two hours’ gallop down the bank of the Rio Grande from Ringold Barracks. At the upper margin of this ‘‘ open” there was a, “ wash-out,” extending south, and in- creasing in width and oe far in that direction, It’s walls were steep, and of hard, rough, and irregular clay. Dense chaparral grew to the very edge of its west bank. ‘The horses of the two Texans were hardy half- breeds, there being as much difference in the mustangs as in their owners, and in their equip- ments as well. Pete’s beast was rough and un- gainly, but strong, and evidently capable of great speed, while Ned’s nag was sleek, glossy and clean-limbed. Quickness of movement and were indicated by the toss of its head, and its springy bound at the slightest alarm. e animal of Pete was as keenly watchful and guarded as its owner, frequently lifting its grass-filled jaws, and gazing suspiciously around it. The horse of the captive wassmall, of Spanish stock, and a beauty. The trio of men and horses formed a picture, that would have charmed the eye of an obser- ver—the picture framed by an almost impassa- ble chaparral, the red glow of the setting sun just filtering through the sparse foliage of the mesquites, the highest of the hundred and one thorny bushes that formed the thickets. | The captive, we have said, was a Mexican. He was slender,: handsome, indeed almost feminine in appearance, apparently not more than fourteen years of age, supple and wiry in form and motion. His features were small and well formed, and his skin was certainly less stained by the blood of his Indian ancestors than was that of Pecan Pete by camp-fire and con- stant prairie travel. A velvet jaqueta and breeches, both profuse- ly ornamented with silver buttons, the latter thus was the captive youth costumed. Erect he stood, showing something of amaze- ment, as well as apprehension, as he glanced from one to the other of his captors the expres- gion of his face showing that he understood their | ’ . his olive skin was | white lad was pursued. ‘words. He was panting flushed, and his clothing torn, indicating recent | tions proved this, xertion to escape, and no gentle usage. Pecan Pete turned from having cared for the horses, a moment after Nueces Ned had spoken in favor of the youthful Mexican, It was evident that the old scout was offended at his | sounded upon the being sustained by a red silk sash, the long | Texans fringed ends of which hung down on either side; | “came Little Lariat. pard’s words, and entertained bitter hatred to- ward the captive. Pete returned to the front of the Mexican, as he replied to Ned; meanwhile gazing, with vengeful triumph, upon the helpless youth. ‘*Pard Ned, yer makes me sick enough ter puke up my hull inward systermatics. Why, dog-gone my gizzard, ef it doesn’t ’pear like yer b’lieved a Greaser c’u’d speak ther plain squar’ truth! ‘*T ‘lows he’s young an’ innercent-like. How- somever, hit don’t do, these ticklish times, ter low any soft sodder feelin’s ter creep through yer bleed-box. Greasers air all hacked off’n ther same log, I reckon; leastwise, nary one I ever run ag’in’ hed white bleed enough inter his carkiss ter let a chance ter stick a Texan in the back slip by. ; “T° doesn’t want none on ’em rootin’ ’round me, Hit,u’d be a roarin’ hurrah ef we'd ’low him ter take free range, arter all ther devilish- ness his sort hev scattered up an’ down ther Grande! We-uns corraled him skulkin’ in ther mesquites, an’ he tried his bestest ter gi’n us ther slip, which air proof ‘nough fer Pecan Pete thet he air crooked. Ned, ole pard, I’m fear’d ye’re gittin’ chicken-hearted.” ‘Tt may appear so to you, Pete, and I may be deceived. The Mexicans, I know, are as a body just what you say; but this boy seems honest and trustworthy. I say, give him a chance to prove his assertions true.” ‘*We-uns air hyer, Ned, ter clean out ther dang’d Greaser scum, an’ I’m goin’ ter tend ter biz, every time! 1 kin choke ther cuss off this hyer yearth, an’ put a stop ter his doin’ futur’ devilment alone without yer help, an’ not half try; but I reckons that afore ye’re with me on many chap’rell trails, yer won’t waste much time listenin’ ter a Greaser’s lies.” ane? As Pete said this he caught up a lariat from his saddle. ** Perhaps you are right,” returned Ned, ‘* but I don’t believe my thirst for revenge will in- clude every Mexican whom [ may capture. There must be some good men and women among them.” P ‘*Dang’d ef yer hain’t struck ther bull’s-eye es ’vards ther weemin, pard Ned! I goes hefty on Mex’ caliker. Now, Greaser ”—to the captive— ‘‘T'm ready ter gi’n yer a speedy send-off. Ef bea hain’t wabbled a pray, I can’t help it, fer yer nes hed time enough, I swow!” ‘ As Pete spoke, he cast the deadly noose over the head of the Mexican youth, whose face be- ghastly Drawing the captive after him, until beneath the branches of one of the mes- quite trees that grew on the margin of the *‘open,” the scout threw the slack of the lariat over the limb, and again spoke: ‘‘ Now, Greaser, I hes heerd yer leetle story, an’ hit warn’t swallered. Nary onc’t kin yer null wool over Pecan Pete’s peepers. Hit’s all osh, clean through! I doesn’t b'lieve thar’s a man namé 0’ Benton on ther Grande. “Et sich a *portant time es. this hyer, I'd s’pose yer’d sift out all ther gab what sticks in yer crop; but ye’re runnin’ yer own tongue, I reckon, ontil I puts a stop ter hit fer good. The lips of the doom es moved in prayer, in a quivering manner, and his brilliant black eyes were fastened on the sky, which was still blended with the red glow of sunset. He seemed not to entertain a thought of suin for his life, or for mercy of any kind; indeed, there was no hope that such a es would have been listened to by the revengeful and merciless scout. The rope was jerked taut! - “* Madre de Dios!” burst from the lips of the Mexican youth at the first twitch of the lariat. The next instant the strong arms of Pecan Pete jerked him free from the ground, the con- vulsed form revolving slowly, the handsome face contorted in agony, and the dark eyes bulging from their sockets. It was a terrible sight. Nueces Ned heaved a sigh, though he saw it not; but even as the rope became taut, there astonished ears of the two the crashing of bushes and thumping of hoofs. These sounds came from the north, and the next moment, down the bed of the wash- out, galloped a handsome white youth, about the same age as the Mexican who now hung sus- pended in the agonies of strangulation. It was evident at once to the Texans that this His manner and ac- and the sounds beyond, as well. . _ Soon, however, he caught a view of the scene in the ‘‘ open,” and as the face of the suspended sufferer swung around, the new-comer yelled in a voice of anguished pleading: “Let him down! Let him down, for God’s sake! He’s white to the back-bone! I swear it —Im Little Lariat!” Down to the earth - fell the struggling form, even before the plea for him had been finished; for Pecan Pete saw that which brought all his fighting propensities to the front, as did also Nueces Ned. Instantly loosening the lariat about the Mexi- can’s neck, Pete jerked his revolver as .the weapon of his pard belched fire and lead; that of the youth who had given his cognomen as ‘Little Lariat” following suit as he turned in his saddle. The scene that followed was impressive and startling to an amazing degree. : At least half a score of brutal-looking Mexi- cans dashed toward the ‘topen” in chase of the Texan boy, some in the mesquites, others in the wash-out. They were, however, dumfounded by the surprise that awaited them—or, at least, those who had time for such an emotion. The deadly “sixes” of the two Texans sound- ed in quick succession, and shrieks and groans followed. Half of the Greasers were slain be- fore the survivors had time to recover and flee, But even in the startled and amazed frame of mind in which they were at this unexpected as- sault, our two friends saw the handsome white youth, *‘ Little Lariat,” fall headlong from his horse to the bed of the wash-out at the first dis- charge of the guns of the Mexicans, when the latter broke free from the mesquites. CHAPTER II. CAPITAN CARAJAL, One week previous to the events detailed in our first chapter, there had been a ball in Rio Grande City; many of the U. §. officers being yeceert from Ringold Barracks, a station just velow the town. ‘ihe entertainment was gotten up by the first families of the ‘‘ city,” or it would have been called a fandango. Conspicuous on the occasion, was an American maiden of about eighteen, the acknowledged belle of the ball. Her features were of the Gre- cian type, her eyes of heavenly blue, and ker hair golden, long, and wavy; presenting a strik- ing contrast to the dark-eyed, dark-skinned se- noritas, who made up the larger portion of the assemblage. A handsome youth, younger than herself, and strongly resembling her, attended her, and kept close watch and ward over her. This was Bert Benton, or “ Little Lariat” and the maiden was his sister, Bertha Benton. The cognomen mentioned had been given to the boy, on account of his being an expert lasso- ist. He was also noted, up and down the Rio Grande. for his bravery and fearlessness. . Like his sister, he would have chained the attention of an observer at once; for his hair, like hers, was golden, his complexion fair, and his form slight; the flash of his eyes, and his proud bear- ing banishing somewhat the feminine appear- ance, otherwise so noticeable, Both he and Bertha resided with their widow- ed mother, the ranch being but an hour’s gallop from pe Barracks, down the river. They had a small stock of cattle, but their horses and niules, once numerous, had been driven over the Bravo by the Mexican bandits; their father having been slain by the yellow-skinned marau- ders, while endeavoring to defend his property. Thus far, the outlaws had not molested the ranch of the Bentons; probably for the reason* that it was situated some little distance from the traveled trail. After the tragic death of her husband, Mrs. Benton longed to fly from the dangerous vicinity of the Rio Grande; but she had no place to flee unto, Everything that she owned was Invested in cattle and horses, and these last had been stolen. Besides, at that time, it was Impossible to dispose of her ranch. The poor woman feared for the safety of her 4 children and herself, but. Little Lariat was — averse to abandoning their home, and hehadre- corded a solemn vow to avenge the death of his — father. So it happened, that they remained. _ The Bentons were from a g family, who had, like many others who choose their homes in the wilds of Texas, been reduced in means, from various causes, Mrs. Benton, being a lady of high culture, attended thorough- ly to the education of her children, who were both of them a scholars; and this was fortun- ate for them, for there were no schools in the neighborhood. Little Lariat had never forgotten his oath of vengeance, and many a lawless Mexican fell be- fore his true aim. is services, asa Spy for the pangers, had been of great benefit; thus gainin; for him a wide reputation for one 80 young, an old Southern ~ .
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oo aw ate ev inn ae ha ery be ET yee. Me Ae : apo, ae > : . £3 wage paid no attention to the the ‘United Sta y also the hatred of the Mexican outlaws of the Rio Grande. Yet the boy never tried to avoid danger. He appeared to be utterly devoid of fear. He was skillful with revolver and rifle, and could throw his bowie-knife with surprising ac- curacy. Bertha frequently accompanied her brother amid the chaparrals, searching for stray cattle; and, although Little Lariat was nearly four years his sister’s junior, she looked upon him as a man, and her protector, relying trust- | fully upon him in all things. There was little in the way of amusement at the isolated rauch; and it was, therefore, with pleasure that the boy accepted the invitation to the ball, which had been extended to himself aad his sister. He was relieved of the charge of the latter, soon after his arrival; as an officer, from the station below, claimed her hand for the next waltz—Bertha being a great favorite ‘with the army men. After this, the young lady became the center of an admiring circle; and Bert, although he was not exactly at home in female society, be- came attracted toward a pretty Mexican girl, ‘whom he knew simply as Senorita Lollita. Little did he dream that this seeming girl was a boy in disguise, and one who was fated to be greatly indebted to himself. With this seeming pretty and graceful maiden, Little Lariat became quite intimate; each being drawn toward the other by some unaccountable influence. There came a time, however, during the festivities, when the Texan youth missed his favorite; and sought her in vain, Although ever suspicious and watchful when Bertha. was with him, upon this occasion the boy dreamed not of the possibility of danger in such a respectable gathering, and was lax in his usual vigilance, Had he taken notice of the entrance to the room devoted to dancing, he would have been on guard, and had his suspicions aroused, for,.in the midst of the revelry, a Mexican peered in- side. This man appeared to be somewhat above the middle class in intelligence, but had a most cruel and vindictive look in his serpent-like eyes, These . glittered with admiration, when he caught a view of Bertha Benton, whirling amid the gay throng. It would have been evident to even the most casual observer, that the stranger wished to avoid notice; for he kept himself back, as far as was possible, from the door, and at the same time gain a view of the interior of the apartment. As the danicers were fully engaged, and the lookers-on intent upon viewing the flitting forms, the lurker remained unnoticed. His manner and position proved that he was not an invited guest, and it was clear that he avoided notice. An expression of murderous hatred con- vulsed his dark face, as the officer whirled with Bertha past the entrance near him, and he real- ized that the pair were on terms of intimacy. The watcher was a trusted captain of the Scourge of the Rio Grande, Cortina the bandit; and, turning with a gesture of caution, he hiss in a low tone: ‘‘ Look, Pedro, quickly! Who is she? Caram- ba! I would give a year of my life to embrace a her; and, by all the saints, Pl do it! I swear it —I, Canales Carajal!” A low-browed villain bent forward, at this remark from his chief. An ejaculation of surprise and recognition broke from Pedro’s lips, neither of the men noticing the seeming maiden who passed out from the ball-room, brushing the captain as he spoke. Had it been a man, the lurkers might have been more guarded; but, as it was, they ing female. This was none other than the self-styled Lollita, who had won the friendship of Little Lariat, but who was in reality a Mexican youth, Jose Sanchez by name, masquerading for the night in female attire. ose caught the words and the expression of the face of Capitan Carajal, and not only this but he recognized the bandit. He perceived a once that Little Lariat and his sister were in danger. He knew them by reputation, and had long desired to form their acquaintance, Instantly Jose resolved to do all in his power to defeat any plot that Carajal might form against the Benton family. Well he knew the desperate character of the captain, and that it would be useless to betray the bandit’s presence, as there was no doubt he had a force with him; and, in the event of an attempted capture by tes officers, many non-combat- ants would be slain, while the bandits would, most of them, escape beyond the river. _ It was evident that Carajal was fascinated be- Little Lariat. yond control by the beauty of Bertha Benton. | cavalry officers, and all talking and laughing A single glance into his face convinced Jose — he would risk much to gain possession of er. The boy hesitated not a moment, but passed out into the open night air, where the bright moon illumined the earth. Advancing down a side street to a lone hut, | town. he entered, and soon emerged in a fancy male | suit of velvet, handsomely ornamented with silver buttons. _A revolver and bowie-knife were buckled about his waist, and he stole on toward the casa, within which the dance was going on; taking advantage of every shadow, dwelling, and clump of bushes. Within a dense thicket of mesquites, and with- in sound of the music, Jose hesitated, making | halt in deliberation; and he thanked the Fates | that he had done so, for almost immediately after, Capitan Carajal and Pedro skulked around | the casa walls, and stole into the same thicket with him. The boy crouched low, and listened with palpitating heart; his hand gripping bowie- knife and revolver, ‘Speak now, and quickly, Pedro! Why were you afraid to stay by the door? What have you to fear, and who is that senorita?” Thus spoke Carajal with nervous impatience. “Caramba! Would you care to throw your lifeaway? Had we remained, I would have been shot. I saw one whom I knew too well. I was with the party that killed his father, and he knows it. You cannot kill him—” ‘*Curse it!” exclaimed the captain; ‘‘ cease your woman’s talk and speak sense and to the point, or T’ll save that young diablo—whoever e is—the trouble of splitting your heart! Speak, I say—who did you see?” As he spoke, Carajal clutched Pedro by the | arm, and jerked a knife, The Mexican was evidently terrified; his voice as he rattled off his words of explanation, and | his whole manner proved this. The lower classes of Mexico are extremely superstitious. They believe that certain persons are protected by the Fates, or else the ries, thus causing it to be impossible to kill them. Pedro controlled himself by a great effort, and replied to his chief quickly, and as the latter had demanded, to the point: “ Pedro saw Little Lariat at the danza, and the senorita, with the hair of gold, is his sister.” “ Santissima Maria!” cried out Carajal, in | surprise and exultation. ‘Good news is this to your capitan, Pedro Pernales. It is worth ten | doubloons, and you shall have them when I hold the senorita in my grasp! ‘* Diablo! But there is a chance for revenge! | | from the thicket into the open road. Curses on that Little Lariat! I have heard of him. I will steal his sister this night. Do you hear, Pedro? Haste and tell my men to lay low, for I have other plans. Hold! Know you the trail to the ranch of Little Lariat?” ce Yes, my capitan.” | We will ambush them, for they will return to-night. Think you not so?” : They will ride home after the danza.” Good, again! rades, and prepare for the capture. not fear the pistol of that Texan boy. swear it—I, Canales Carajal!” Not daring to disobey, Pedro followed his a tain, and they disappeared amid the chaparr With clinched hands uplifted, the handsome Mexican youth seemed to mutter an oath. He then stole back to his jacal, equipped a_horse, sprung into the saddle, and rode fee n thicket, from which he could see.the revelers as ther “ evel- loped from the town, There he awaited opments, i Why he did not warn Little Lariat at once, could only be explained by his intense desire to NAb his great regard and friendship for him, py patiling for him and Bertha. proved that Jose had great confidence in | with decision and skill, the himself and Bert Benton | the plans of Capitan Carajal. CHAPTER ITI. FOILED. | THE ball proved a success in many ways. Little Lariat was naturally disappointed at not having seen more of the fascinating Lollita, and he ter invite her to the ranch. gain no information in regard to her. But he was destined soon to learn, to his great astonishment, that the seeming maiden was a Sis Sg i age ost ci i eath in hime ee Bertha the service of way, in the moonlight, dashed the caval- cade; Bert and his late in the pat id of the Come, we will join our com- hh You need } He shall | youth should be taken captive, and carried cross the Bravo with his sister, and then die. I been besides anxious to have his sis- | | being able to defeat | self, and became more resolu | | could, however, | scent of the bandits. | hi | joyously. Jose Sanchez saw, from his covert, a Mexican lash his mustang at full speed down the govern- ment road, the moment the cavalcade left the He knew this man was a bandit spy, galloped toinform his leader that the Bentons had started for their ranch. This would ne- cessitate a further advance by the bandits down the river, as they would not dare attempt the abduction while the officers were with Bertha. Thus reasoned Jose, and he took notice that a dog trotted ahead of the horse of Little Lariat a fact which gave him. pleasure and relief; for he knew that the animal would probably catch scent of the lurking bandits, and warn its master and mistress of the danger ahead, thus preparing them for the conflict. Had not the youth overheard Carajal assert that Little Lariat was to. be taken prisoner, and conveyed over the Rio Grande, he would doubtless have warned the young Texan of the presence of the bandits. In addition to his personal motives, Jose Sanchez wished to prove that he was loyal to Texas, and an enemy to the outlaws of Cor- tina, who had many allies among the Mexican residents on the Texas side of the river. After his friends had disappeared Gown the chaperral-bordered road, Jose urged his mus- tang, by well-known paths amid the thickets, in a course parallel with the road; aiming to keep near the followers of Cortina, after he had discovered their lurking-place. By a rapid gallop, he was enabled; as the road curved, to reach a point from which, upon halting, he could hear the rapid clatter cf hoofs. This, ke knew, proceeded from the animal ridden by the bandit spy. Relieved in mind, he proceeded on, keeping as near the spy as possible, and not be in danger of discovery. Being on the opposite side of the road from the lurking-place of the ambushers, Jose was enabled to gain a point directly across from the bandits, without at- tracting their notice. ' He was so near that he could hear the con- versation of the outlaw Mexicans, and distin- guish the voice of Captain Carajal, who ex- pressed the greatest satisfaction upon being in- formed of the approach of his intended vic- tims. It was evident to Jose that the bandit chief did not believe the officers would accom- pany Bertha Benton and her brother that dis- tance from the town. Soon the youth heard the crashing of bushes, and to his surprise saw the outlaws all break This move- ment revealed to Jose the strength. of the foes he expected to encounter. There were eight, exclusive of the captain, which was less than he had expected; but well he knew the slight chance there was for Little Lariat and himself to defeat them. Upon the words that had been spoken by Carajal at Grande City, the boy greatly de pended. The outlaw chief had asserted that the Texan across the Bravo. They would then depend en- tirely upon their lassoes. This would give a deci advantage to the young ranchero, and mself, Jose, boy-like, was confident of success; yet, as the critical time drew near, he became great- ly agitated; for he — upon the fearful consequences, and the remorse he would suffer should they succeed in even a part of their plan —that is, the capture of Bertha. Should this occur, it would be terrible; for he would be to blame, in not having warned the brother and sister of their danger. izi that, should he harbor such R This neglect | thoughts, he would not be in a fit state to act outh braced him- and determined. Not long, was he fated to wait in impatience for the arrival of the intended victims of Capi- tan Carajal; for, around a curve of the road, now lying in the bright moonlight, ran the dog of Little Lariat, This was a wolfish-lookin animal; without doubt a cross between a soe hound and a mongrel cur. Jose noticed that the dog seemed to catch the A low, threatening growl broke from the beast, and it cast its fiery eyes suspiciously at the bordering thickets. . Low, but deep curses of rage and rise burst from the bandits, when they perceived the dog. fa a few moments more, Little Lariat and his sister, galloping side by side, dashed into view ; the young ranchero scrutinizing the road ahead,
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and keeping his revolver in hand and ready. Jose felt greatly relieved. The sight was a beautiful one. It appeared as though the youthful pair were suspicious of danger, for neither spoke to the ether, and both gazed apprehensively ahead. The silvery moon played upon their faces, ren- dering Bertha more angelic in appearance than ever. Jose Sanchez could hear the muttered admira~ tion of Capitan Carajal, and he set hard his teeth, straining every nerve and muscle for the coming contest; his knife thrust loosely in his belt in front, and his trusty revolver clutched tightly, ready for use. . hus, with tightly-drawn reins in his left hand, the Mexican youth remained; awaiting the moment for his action, while his brain -seemed about to burst, and his heart to cease pulsation. The sight of the apparently doomed pair nearly drove the boy wild. But, he was not to endure it long. The dog suddenly stopped, with a low and ominous growl, and gazed suspiciously into the dark shades to the right of the road—the very point at which lurked the outlaws, who were now frantic with fury at the prospect of their plot being thus foiled At once, Bert and Bertha jerked bridle-reins and halted. Both were instantly convinced that human foes lurked within the shades. They were speechless for the moment, each gazing ahead at the a indicated by the dog. Then, in an instant, there was a startling transfcrma- tion, and the silence as well was broken. First, a wild and exultant yell, the signal for the bandits, was heard; and then, out shot the nine mustangs from the dense thickets, the car- bines of the yellow-skinned riders exploding simultaneously ! Capitan Carajal urged his horse to the front of his miscreant followers, yelling: ‘* Lassoes! Lassoes! Ten doubloons to him who secures the golden-haired senorita!” penny had the words left his lips when, with a fearful howl, the dog sprung up and caught the throat of the bandit leader’s steed, causing the animal to rear and plunge back amid the others, with a shriek that was almost human. Terrible curses filled the air. Instantly, at the appearance of the outlaws Little Lariat spurred his horse to the front of the animal of his sister, crying out, as he leveled his revolver: “*Stick close to me, Bertha, or you are lost! Don’t flee, or you’ll be captured!” The maiden, almost paralyzed, clung trem- blingly to her saddle. er brother controlled his Sone with difficulty, and taking quick aim with his revolver, pulled trigger. One of the miscreants threw his arms wildly in the air and fell over in the road, dead; his horse bounding down the trailin great fright. It looked dark for our friends. : Their one chance was to dash back toward the city by the road they had come. is Little Lariat realized in an instant. For himself, however, he resolved to stand his ground and sell his life dearly. ‘Ride back to the town, Bertha!” he cried. ‘* Ride at headlong speed the moment I fall, or you are lost!” Again he fired, before the demoralized bandits conte et into order with their lariats, At this moment, out from the dark shadows on the north side of the road shot, with a shrill cheer, a youth in gayly-ornamented velvet cos- tume, while his revolver bekched fire and sent another outlaw to answer for his many crimes. A fiendish yell broke from the remaining six bandits, a yell in which rage and hatred were blended, for they recognized Jose Sanchez as a fellow-countryman, and felt that his appearance on the scene might bring about their defeat if not destruction. The Fates were seemingly against them. Even Carajal felt that the situation was des- perate, for he knew that his men could not be depended upon under such demoralizing circum - stances. Too late he perceived that his order to prepare lassoes had been premature, for be- fore the carbines could again be brought into use, down upon them dashed the two youths, side by side, with revolvers leveled, and belch- “—— at every bound of their steeds. e infuriated captain succeeded, by sinkin avoid- eath, but in dashing past his youth- ful assailants ta gaining the = A of the horri- fied Bertha. Her shriek of terror as he clutch- at her arm, drew the attention of the young avengers. With yells, both urged their horses to the rescue, and Capitan Carajal, realizing that he upon the neck of his horse, in not on must escape at once or lose his life, spurred into the shades and crashed through the thorny thickets, nt nega A threats and curses of ven- geance against Little Lariat and his friend, and vowing that he would yet capture Bertha Benton. Thus were our young friends left masters of the situation, victors ever the would-be abduc- tors, and the beautiful bay: girl was safe. ‘Ten thousand thanks, rp Pe apes for your assistance!” cried out Little Lariat, as he jean- ed over in his saddle and grasped the hand of Jose impulsively. “We owe you our liberty and perhaps our lives! But, I say, who are you? Have I not met you somewhere before?” ““] was Lollita, and enjoyed your society at the danza, while masquerading in female at- tire,” answered the pours Mexican. ‘But I am now, dressed as I should be, Jose Sanchez, at your service—your friend and your sister’s friend to the death! I learned of this infamous plot, and followed the bandits to assist you—” The young Texan was speechless with amaze- ment and gratitude. Not so was Bertha, however, for the sudden and almost miraculous change from such fear- ful danger to safety, acted as suddenly to recov- er her, and she extended her hand to the youth- ful Mexican, saying, in a silvery voice, expres- sive of deep emotion: ‘* Heaven bless you, Jose Sanchez! We must be friends always. We owe you our lives!” Jose accompanied Bert and Bertha to the ranch, and after his departure Little Lariat saw no more of his friend until he caught a glimpse of his agony-contorted face as the brave young Mexican dangled in strangulation from the the limb of the mesquite, to which he oe been suspended, as we have seen, by Pecan © Thus was Little Lariat enabled to save the life of Jose Sanchez, who had so nobly risked it for him and Bertha; Pete, as it will be remem- bered, lowering his victim when the Greasers dashed down the bed of the wash-out,” CHAPTER IV. WAR IN THE WASH-OUT. ‘“‘SUFFERIN’ Moses! Pard Ned, I thought, dead sure, thet this war our last chip-in fer ther game o’ life; but thar warn’t quite enough 0’ the yaller scum ter clean us out. Dang m heart, but we-uns air a hard pair ter Sack ag’in’! But we must kinder look arter thet boyee. Reckon he’s bad hurted. ‘ Leetle Lariat slung his gab jist in ther ker- rect time ter save ther young Greaser from be- in’ choked off’n this hyer yearth, an’ I’m a han- kerin’ ter know why in thunderation he didn’t want ther yaller boyee hung up ter dry.” Thus spoke Pecan Pete, rattling off his words, as he panted with excitement, caused by the sudden surprise and the fight that followed, He had sprung to the side of Nueces Ned, and the two had wasted not a bullet, nor had they sought shelter behind their horses, or covert in the thicket; notwithstanding the headlong charge of the Mexicans down upon Little Lariat, and which had brought them directly into the “oO ed felt greatly rejoiced that the execution had been prevented; the words of the Texan youth indicating that he had been correct in his opinion in regard to their captive, ‘“Who is Little Lariat, and Where does he live?” Ned asked, as soon a8 he could recover himself; but his voice sounded so weak and strange, that Pete sprung toward him, exclaim- ing: Great Cesar, Ned! Ye’re es white es a spook. Air yer hurted, boyee?” ‘* Not bad, I reckon, Pete,” he answered, as he sunk to a sitting posture. “Pull off my right boot,” he said; ‘there must be a ball in my leg, although I did not know until a moment since that anything was wrong with me.” Pete complied with his pard’s request, and emptied fully a pint of blood from the boot upon the sward. **'Ye’re struck hard and deep, Ned, I reckon. I'll kinder ’zamine yer leg et onc’t, an’ stop thet bleedin’, er yer’l] wilt, dead sure,” ‘Don’t mind me, Pete! I'll bind my sash around it. Dll be O, K. ina few minutes. Cut the captive » Jooee, and see to a cmp ‘'s may take a notion to then we'd be Gleaned out, certain.” at 4 By ther bleed o’ ther Black-bean Braves Ned, I doesn’t low ter leave yer, even ter find out "bout Leetle Lariat, ontel I sees yer hunky yerself, I doesn’t know whar he's located, an’ never see’d ther leetle cuss afore; but I’s hearn tell a heap "bout him, an’ I reckon yeou hey too. * He’s laid out a power o’ Greasers, lve bin tole, though he air sich a chicken, ‘““ Thar, Ned, ye’re O. K. ontel weuns strilzes. Ringold Barracks. Ther bullet went plum threugh ther thick meat on yer thigh, Lut I doesn’t believe hit’ll bleed much more, fer j’ve boun’ ther sash sorter tight.” As Pete ended, Ned remarked, feebly: “Attend to the boys, pard! I'll be stronrer in a short time.” ‘“*Reckon I'll do es yer says,” agreed the old scout. ‘‘ But, dang my heart ef I doesn’t take a few o’ ther yaller-bellies outen ther wet ef they’ve hurted Leetle Lariat bad! An’ I won’t fergit ther hole in yer leg, pard, when I gits an-. other show ter draw bead on ther smoky-skinned coyotes, Till £0, but Pll keep my peepers skinned. fer ther Mex’ scum!” Pete left Nueces Ned lying upon the green sward, and hastened to the edge of the wash- out, disappearing over the bank. Had not the horses been tied securely to mes-- quite trees that grew on the margin of the “open,” the animals would undoubtedly have stampeded, for they had been very much fright- ened during the short but tumultuous conflict. It was just as Pete parted from Ned, that Jose Sanches, who had been near death by strangulation, revived sufficiently to raise him- self upon one elbow, and gaze around. He was. in a dazed state, and his throat felt as though a hot wire was wound about it. He was so bewildered that he could not, for- - the moment, recall the near past; but he caught: a view of the old scout, as the latter went over: the bank of the wash-out. He then became con- scious that the rope still encircled his neck, al- though but loosely; and, with a shudder, the Mexican youth threw it over his head, as if it had been a loathsome serpent. Juce Jay in the shade of the overhanging mesquite trees, but: the ‘“‘open” was comparatively light, there be- ing still a ruddy glow in the western heavens. uch to the boy’s surprise, he discovered, as: he cast the lariat away, a man lying upon the ground not far from him; and soon he recognized him as the one who had interceded in his behalf with Pecan Pete. At once, the heart of Jose swelled with grati- tude. He strove to cry out, but his tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth. It was little wonder, for as the youth gazed, forth from the dark shades there stole a blood— begrimed Mexican of most fiendish aspect,, crawling upon hands and knees toward the un- suspecting and prostrate Nueces Ned. The Greaser had evidently been wounded. Ned also was wounded. Jose could ay ceive that there had been a fight. Through that fight, it was probable, his e had been saved. But now, Pecan Pete would be more vengeful, more incensed against all Mexicans than ever, This time, he would doubtless hang him, and make sure work of it. Yet, for all that, Jose thought not of escape. He would save the man who bad believed in im. Quickly the boy ran his hand around his belt, but his pistol and knife were gone. Like a flash of light came the thought to him, that the lariat, which had so nearly been his own death, might serve tosave the life of Nueces Ned. He did not remain long inactive, yet it seemed an age to him before he could overcome the almost paralyzing emotions born of the Scene before him. — . Ned was engaged in reloading his revolver and the assassin was crawling toward his head as he lay; consequently the brave Texen would not know of his peril until the cuchilla of the Greaser was sheathed in his breast. Instantly upon thinking of the lariat, Jose with great caution secured the same, and basti- ly adjusting the noose and coiling the slack, he arose to a half-bent position, the noose held in his right band, and behind him, ready for cast- ing, the slack hanging loosely over his left n Life and death depended upon the slightest. curve of wrist, or the slightest lack of force, and strength. , It was a fearful strain upon that frai] Mexi- can youth, Rope sound came = pre the Mar was evident that the assassin did not ap- prehend interference—did not know that living were near 4 i. Jose had not made the slightest disturbance, and the creeping bandit had not perceived him. But, before Y was read for the cast of the deadly noose, upon which depended a humen life, precious time had ,and the hideous Mexican had ceased crawling. He was now ss ay We en we . . apse ad 2 Pee hs Lee Oty} 7 ‘ at c sus S ‘ a i x a7 E “ y Be Dk a é lis ee sad U ' ; - : 8 ‘ ' x ’
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erouching, panther-like, for a spring upon his victim. Jose Sanchez braced himself, straining sense and nerve. The Greaser knew that the instant for action had arrived. Up in air shot his murderous knife, but at that moment, the deadly noose of the raw-hide rope cut the air with ominous hiss, and settled down, inclosing the uplifted arm and the head of the outlaw, just as the glittering steel was on its errand of death. Ail the strength of little Jose was necessary to draw the noose tight, binding the arm and head of the struggling wretch. And, while Ned raised himself and watched the struggle, in amazement, he saw the Mexican lad whom Pecan Pete had condemned to an ig- nominious death rush toward the writhing ban- dit, keeping the lariat stiff as, hand over hand, he neared his victim. Then Jose wrenched the knife from the marauder’s hand, and buried the blade in its owner’s breast! A terrible shriek of agony and horror shot through the evening air. The hideous swarthy face of the outlaw contorted most fiendishly,’ while his form writhed, and his limbs thrashed upon the sward, his fingers clutching and tear- ing up the grass and flowers. This was but for a few moments, during which the eyes of Ned and Jose were fixed upon the dying wretch. Then his form straightened out- ward, trembled, and quivered, and the death- rattle sounded in his throat. The bandit had gone to answer for his crimes! Impulsively Nueces Ned stepped forward, his hand extended, and said: ‘* God bless you, my boy! I owe you my life, and I'shall not forget it, Shake! We are pards hereafter !” There was a light in the eyes of Jose Sanchez that spoke of intense joy and deep regard, as his hand was clasped by the young scout. Then he spoke: ** Nueces Ned said kind words of Jose, when ‘the rope of Pecan Pete was being tied to choke out his life. Jose Sanchez will never forget.” “Yes, but I ought to have prevented Pete from going any further than tying the rope._ I believed you were square, Jose; but now, Id stake my life—the life you have saved—on your being noble, brave, and loyal, if you are of Mexican birth. I feel that you can prove that you are worthy of Pecan Pete’s confidence. You ge poaret ed was here interrupted by a far-sounding yell, that came from the depths of the wash-out and recognizing it as the danger-signal of his old pard, he cried out: . **Come, Jose! Pete and Little Lariat are in danger, if indeed the boy is alive!” At the mention of Little Lariat’s name the Mexican youth appeared to be struck dumb and motionless fora moment; but Nueces Ned had bounded, unmindful of his wound, toward the wash-out. Catching sight of his revolver and knife on Pete’s saddle, Jose secured them, and darted on after the young scout. CHAPTER V. PETE IS CONVINCED. SEVERAL times since the attempted abduction of Bertha, and the capture of himself, had Little Lariat made a wide circuit of the ranch, in quest of any indication which would point to the presence of Carajal, or any of his desperate followers. When, on the evening of the events recorded, he came unconsciously, in the *‘ open,” upon half a score of Mexican outlaws, the boy felt positive that they were the followers of the bandit captain, and that they were then on their way to attack theranch. Before the startled Greasers could re- cover from their amazement, Little Lariat had whipped out his revolver, shot the two nearest him dead in their tracks, and then spurred on the back trail, into the chaparral, But, as the horses of the marauders were more used to being pressed recklessly through the dense, thérny thickets than was Bert’s favorite steed, the latter soon found himself hard pressed by his foes; when; as has been detailed, he dis- covered Jose Sanchez being hanged to the mes- quite by Pecan Pete. Little Lariat yelled out, and then, turning jn ! his saddle, blazed away at the swarthy horde jn his rear, intending to make a stand with the two Texans, and fight the Greasers to the bitter end, But, a moment after he pulled trigger. a bullet from an escopeta glanced along his head, tearing his scalp, and causing him to fall from his horse senseless, to the bed of the wash-out. What immediately followed is already known. Little Lariat. Our next duty is to follow Pecan Pete. The old scout, upon gazing down into the wash- out, could distinguish the form of the little ran- chero; and he lostno time in letting himself down therough bank, regardless of bruises, and a heavy shock as he struck the hard bed of the gully. Quickly bending beside the unconscious youth, Pete thrust his rough hand inside the woolen shirt, pressing his palm upon the left breast. Then, with a grunt of relief, he arose, and pro- ceeded down the gully, to secure the boy’s horse beyond the possibility of escape, and to procure | |} and they believed themselves invincible when the canteen of water, which, he had no doubt, was attached to the saddle. He made the animal fast, speaking low and soothing words to quiet him; for, what Nueces Ned had said regarding the probable secret re- turn of the surviving bandits occurred to him, and it seemed very reasonable, considering their vengeful nature. Finding the canteen nearly full of water, as he had hoped, Pete returned to the side of Lit- tle Lariat, and proceeded to examine the wound of the youth. This, he soon saw, was not dan- gerous. He then bathed the head and face of the senseless lad for some time, but with little success, for Bert manifested no signs of re- covery. ‘‘Sufferin’ Moses!” muttered Pecan Pete: “ther condemned chunk o’ lead must ha’ struck ormighty hard, and knocked ther leetle boyee’s brain-box all out o’ kilter, But I reckon on fotchin’ him ’roun’, O. K., bime-by. ** Purty lively circus we~uns hea fer a fleetin’ period, an’ I’m worritated "bout Ned; fer he war struck deep, an’ lost a heap o’ bleed. Won- der who in thunderation that young yaller-belly air, what I war bout ter choke off? Hit *pears Leetle Lariat tumbled ter his figger-head, though hit war all twisted up wi’ ther chokin’ o’ ther raw-hide. ‘*Mebbe so I made a leetle mistook, an’ war too eager fer ter giv him a glide inter kingdom come; but hit’s better ter thet-a-way, than ‘low ther scum ter stompede up an’ down ther Grande, shootin’ an’ slashin’ permisc’us-like. “Better hang half-er-dozen squar’ Texas Greasers, than ‘low one r’arin’, t’arin’ cut-throat o’ Cortina’s ter skip through yer fingers, ter raise Tophit, an’ break things giner’ly.” A slight quiver of the frame of Little Lariat caused Pecan Peter to end his solil- oquy, and to throw more water over the youth’s nead, But, while thus engaged the keen ears of the old scout detected’a slight noise, which he be- lieved was caused by the scraping of a man’s foot upon the hard clay in the wash-out—this sound proceeding from the opposite side of the gully, and behind him. With the quickness of thought Pete sprung to his feet, and turned to face the danger, at the same time jerking his knife, and making | an effort to draw his revolver with the other hand; but the canteen-strap, which he still | clutched, became wound about the scabbard and butt of the pistol by the quick movement, and he was thus prevented from drawing the | | rauder. weapon, At the same moment, his warning yell, which | had alarmed Ned and Jose, burst forth; and with good and sufficient reason, as was the pecu- liar intonation of the same, Which meant that he was in need of help. So his pax] understood it, and though wounded, and weak from the loss of blood, rushed, as recorded, to the point of alarm. The discovery made by Pecan Pete, as he sprung up from the side of Little Lariat, was well calculated to cause the old scout the utmost alarm and no little surprise. _Down toward him, skulking along the west bank of the deep gully, where it was most in shade, were four of the | Greasers, who had escaped death in their dash after Little Lariat into the camp of the two Texans. : Each held his long, glittering knife, their black eyes flashing with a murderous thirst for blood and revenge, and their muscles strained for tiger-like bounds upon the single Texan, who had laid many of their comrades low in death. Pecan Pete, under ordinary circumstances, would have laughed and yelled, and exhibited the most reckless and even careless actions: but the fact that the brave and handsome youth— who was daring and biave toa fault, and who | doubtless had those who would be filled with bitter anguish at his death—the consciousness that Little Lariat lay senseless in the gully near him, this transformed the old scout into a verit- able Hercules in strength, ard fired him with ac- tion that was rapid as thought itself, Pete had been greatly surprised and startled at the discovery of foes, but little more so than | gaa t= aS se were the Greasers upon the sudden bounding of their intended victim to his feet, and the furious and determined appearance made by him, with huge bowie in hand. The Mexicans had counted upon an easy vic- tory, thinking they could bound upon and slay the scout without risk to themselves; but in this they found they had reckoned without their | host. At the time of which we are speaking, a Mex- ican would run great risks, and part with kis all, to become the owner of a Colt’s revolver: these arms were buckled about their waists. There is little doubt, therefore, that the return of the bandits was due as much to the desire to secure the ‘‘six-shooters” of our friends as to avenge their comrades. The dauntless front of Pecan Pete dumfounded the outlaws; but, instantly realizing that they must render the Texan powerless before he could draw his revolver, or they would fall before his deadly aim, all, with a vengeful yell, sprung with uplifted knives toward him. But, once more were the swarthy miscreants made to hesitate, even halting in fear and aston- ishment; for, like a madman, Pecan Pete sprung, panther-like, to meet them. However, they could not retreat. To turn, and flee up the gully, would only he to fall as they ran; consequently, they moved warily to meet the daring old scout, who, the next moment, hurled himself upon them, slash- ing the knife-arm of the first Greaser he closed with, forcing the ruffian to drop his weapon, and then burying his bowie in the bandit’s breast! A low, gurgling moan followed, and then, with a sickening sound the outlaw fell to the earth, there to quiver, and gasp out his last breath. At that instant, Nueces Ned grasped a stron branch, and partly supported by the same, sli down the steep bank to the assistance of his pard; and, just in the nick of time to prevent one of the Greasers, who had bounded to the side of Little Lariat—as the latter, upon recov- ery, raised himself upon his elbows, viewing the startling scene—from plunging a knife into the young ranchero’s breast. The poor boy was in a dazed condition. He knew not whether he was gazing at a real scene, or some picture of his imagination; con- sequently he was not in a state to be of assist- ance to himself or any one else. And Nueces Ned was far from being able to cope with the desperate Greaser, for he was weak from the loss of blood, and his descent in- to the gully had caused his wound to open, and bleed again profusely. The bandit seemed to perceive at once the true state of affairs, and to realize that he had the game in his own hands—that the life of the young ranchero, and that of the wounded Tex- an, were in his power—for he gave out an exul- tant yell, as his knife clashed against the blade of Ned, whose tremendous arm strove feebly to guard his breast from the cuchillo of the ma- Meanwhile, Pecan Pete was desperate- ly battling with the two others, one of whom he had succeeded in wounding. A minute more would have terminated the lives of both Nueces Ned and Little Lariat, without doubt, as the former reeled in his tracks, and it was only by the greatest exertion of his power- ful will that he kept his feet. But, at this critical moment, Jose Sanchez sprung, in one wild and desperate bound, from the bank of the gully, his boot-heels pointed true, and striking directly upon the head of the bandit, whose murderous knife was, at that mo- ment, being thrust with great force through the guard of the young scout. The outlaw dropped like a log, as if shot through the brain, Ned sinking to the earth at the same time, his head falling upon Little Lariat, who was probably the most horrified mortal on earth. Asa matter of course, Jose fell prostrate with the bandit he had jumped upon, but the Mexi- can youth sprung at once to his feet, and plunged his knife into the senseless outlaw, thus ending his career of crime. One glance revealed to Jose that his work was not complete—that Pecan Pete, who so ~~ cently had knotted the deadly noose about ius neck, and jerked him up a limb, was now great~- ly in need of assistance, J ” Believing that Ned and Little Lariat were safe for the present, Jose darted to the help of the old scout. The latter had succeeded in slayint one of his foes, but, while giving him the finishing stroke, the other, and last of the revenge-seeck- JNA tai
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— yas - eet oe ‘ “er, = .. PET: an pi § bog Se : TPT, % eo = as # RPE SET SE, SE Kir $e: yeaa eh kes reir Saas . _s) PRESET tonic Or 4 se a ni "aed i ee —_ . +” xl - Poe v ge ing quartette, had grappled with him, and stab- | bed aim in the shoulder. : Pete was now nearly exhausted. : Thus it was that the Mexican youth dis- | covered him struggling, and at once bounded to the help of the man who had so recently acted as his would-be executioner, The strength of the old scout was now nearly gone, and he was covered with blood from his wound. Neither he nor the bandit could use | their knives, as each clutched the wrist of the other. But Pete well knew that he could not long resist—that he was doomed unless rescued ; and he had no hope of help, as he believed that Ned was not able to come to his assistance, or he would have done so. He knew nothing of the descent of Jose and Ned into the gully, for his attention had been every instant occupied in the defensive and on the aggressive. He knew that one of the out- laws still remained unharmed, and felt that the missing Greaser might be murdering Little Lariat. Perhaps it was this belief, suddenly flashing upon Pete’s mind, that caused him to make a last and desperate effort to throw off the em- brace of his yellow-skinned foe, regain the use of his right arm, and end the conflict. He made one grand attempt, and failed! The blade of the bandit flashed in the air, and but. for the timely arrival of little Jose would have done its deadly work. One quick effort, in which the boy spent all his strength, forced the Greaser over backward, | Jose holding him fast, while the wretch cursed | like a fiend. The youth cried out: ** Up, and strike, Pecan!” The old scout recognized his preserver, and was astounded. But there was no time for wonder or speculation. Pete knew that the boy was flesh and blood, or he could not hold that fierce marauder as he did. He also knew that he could hold him but a short time. Immediate action was necessary. Pecan Pete had no words at such a moment, but dealing his foe the fatal blow broke the spell, and he ejaculated: “ Sufferin’ Moses!” Then, while the writhing bandit was thrown aside, the old scout thrust out his hand to Jose, saying, as the latter seized it: ‘Dang my ole heart, ef “Ned. war’n’t ker- rect! Boyee, ye’re white in actions, ef yer skin air yaller. I’m ormighty sorry fer tryin’ ter choke yer off’m this hyer yearth. I swarl air, by the bleed o’ Crockett!” CHAPTER VI. ALL QUIZT ALONG THE LINE. Bur Jose Sanchez waited not to listen to the words of the old scout. He had, when he sprung down upon the head of the bandit, caught a glimpse of Little Lariat, whose presence in such a place was a great mystery, and whose sad condition was also one that called for instant solution. Not only this, but Jose had news of great importance for his friend—of much more im- portance and moment now that the bandits’ presence had become known to him. Indeed, no sooner was the last Greaser slain, than the | Mexican youth became almost wild with con- cern and excitement, ee the cause for such emotions had seemingly been removed, as | far as was possible. . To be sure, all were wounded more or less dangerously, for Jose had himself received a stab in the arm. However, the worry and apprehension of the brave boy, who had performed such daring | deeds, and to whom each one present owed his life, was not occasioned by thoughts of the pres- ent condition, or possible danger, of those in whose company he had so strangely fallen. But this will be sppleined as we proceed, Jose left the side of Peteand ran to Little Lar- iat. He realized that this was no time for talk, | but action, and he asked: “What called Little Lariat from his ranch? When were you at home, and are you badly hurt? Isee Ned needs my help, You can talk, while I dress his wound.” : * All right, Jose. But how came you to be in | this locali month have been asleep. I believe I dreamed that you were hanging, and that I cut you down. ““ The deuce has been to pay all around here, | and I’m somewhat mixed up. I'll get over this | muddle soon, I hope. As to Ned, as you call that man, | never saw him before. There is an- other stranger, by the way. ‘Are the chaparrals full of fighters, white and yellow? Has Cortina invaded the State? | ? As to the ranch, it seems like a . since I have been home, I think I | Boys, explain matters, or I'll go off the handle, as the old women say!” Pecan Pete had staggered up to the trio, just previous to Little Lariat’s closing remark, Jose was attending to the unconscious Ned, Pete stood, in a bewildered state, gazing first at one and then another of those before him, in much the same manner as would a man in an advanced stage of inebriation. Near at hand lay the four blood-stained bod- ies of the Mexican bandits; the moon, which had become bright and silvery as the glory of the sun had vanished, showering down its soft, weird light upon the strange and tragic scene, which, with the actions and manner of Pecan Pete and Jose Sanchez, was not calculated to clear the sadly muddled brain of Little Lariat. Before Nueces Ned had been brought back to consciousness, Pete had sunk to a sitting pos- ture, having, it was evident, stood erect as long as it had been possible in his condition, Had a couple of their foes come upon them then, the death of all tour would have been easi- ly accomplished. Without a word, the Mexican youth trans- ferred his attentions from Ned to Pete; the lat- ter submitting, in bewilderment and surprise, but keepiug keen watch of the boy as though he half-expected those ministrations to be changed at any moment to a murderous assault, against which he could not hope to combat. Nueces Ned with some difficulty arose to a sitting posture, and gazed first at Little Lariat and then at Pecan Pete. A look and expression of great relief was instantly manifested when he saw that his old pard still lived. For a fuil minute the three gazed from one to another, Jose paying strict atteution to the wound of the old scout. Then Ned, Pete and cw Lariat burst into loud laughter simultane- ously. No wonder was it that the young Mexican turned and looked at them in astonishment, Had they become suddenly insane? The state they had for some time been in favored such a conclusion. An observer would have decided that all ex- cept Jose were good subjects for a hospital, and that strait-jackets would not have been much out of place, ‘“‘Gentlemen,” said Little Lariat, at last, ‘I begin to corral my scattered thoughts, and I believe» you have had a he old fight on my ac- count. If I mistake not, I led a crowd of Greaser cut-throats right into your camp. I beg your pardon, and am sorry you have re- ceived wounds on my account. hope I may be of service to you in the future. For the present, you have my thanks and deep grati- tude!” ‘‘Sufferin’ Moses! Ye're clean off ther trail, leetle pard!” burst out Pecan, Pete, with an en- ergy that astonished his hearers; “‘ yer jist done Ned an’ me ther bestest favor yer c’u’d ha’ run in onter we-uns. Why, I war so bad off, hank- erin’ ter gi’n a Greaser a send-off, thet I bucked ag’in’ Ned’s vardict an’ war mighty nigh hangin’ this white Mex’ boyee. Fact air, he’d bin - t Shwe ef yer hedn’t glided in jist when yer did, ‘Great Crockett! Ef this hyer leetle Mex’ hed bin choked ter death fer sart’in by me, I’d never gut over hit, arter findin’ out he war squar’, Why, boyees, he jist Junged in an’ saved | my gizzard from gittin’ split by thet last yaller- belly I war hitched onter fer good. Who in thunderation air yer, leetle one?” ‘He's Jose Sanchez—my pard,” spoke up Lit- tle Lariat, ‘‘and a week ago he saved me and my sister Bertha from being captured by Capi- tan Carajal and his gang.” At the mention of Bertha, Jose groaned. Pete started, and stared at the youth, asking anxiously, solicitude and concern. to the ranch before they were able on account of their wounds to sit their saddles with safety. Jose kept silent, but Ned spoke: ‘* Now you have goteens pards, I will have my say. I told you, Pete, that this was an hon- est, square boy, and that you ought to give him a chance to prove his assertions. You have secn. what he hasdone. Now | willadd my testimony. ‘*T was at the mercy of one of the bandits, when Jose sprung from the bank of the wash- out upon the miscreant’s head, thus saving my life, and also the life of Little Lariat. So you see he has saved every one of us, and that after having been strung up by you, Pete, while [ stood by without insisting upon his having an opportunity to prove that he had important in- formation for the owner of the next ranch.” ‘¢ What!” exclaimed Little Lariat. ‘‘ Why, the next ranch is my home. What news have you, Jose? Out with it, boy!” ‘*T have not been to the Benton ranch,” as- serted the young Mexican, striving to control himself. ‘‘I know of nothing wrong there. Was it strange that I should speak thus when my life was in danger? I knew if they took me to the ranch that Little Lariat would be my friend, and I should not be hanged.” These words relieved Bert’s mind greatly, still he was not without some anxiety in regard to the safety of his mother and sister. The presence of the bandits caused him much apprehension, and at length he said: “Pards, my home is free to you, and I wisln you all to ride to the ranch to-morrow morning. As it is, you must rest here to-night, but I-don’t think we are in danger of another attack. But: my wound is a mere scratch, and I shall mount and away at once. My mother and sister may be in danger.” “Reckon we’uns hed all better glide thet-a- way,” proposed Pecan Pete; “fer we're good fer a few Greasers yit, ef ther cantankerous cusses hev run in on ther ranch, an’ corraled ther caliker,” ‘Little Lariat rides not alone,” said Jose, decidedly. ‘I will go with him to the ranch, Senor Pete and Senor Ned may stay here. When morning comes, I will ride fast here, and guide them t» the ranch.” ‘Yes, gentlemen,” said Little Lariat, ‘‘ that will be the best way. I will not object to Jose’s company, if you two can get along with- out him.” ‘“‘Boyees, git up an’ git, ef yer worritated. Ned an’ me ‘Il lay ica hyer ontil sun-up. Thet’s ther bestest p’ogramme. Fact air, I hain’t gut vim enough left ter buck ag’in’ a cotton-tail rabbit; an’ that’s bout ther fix o’ Ned, I reckon. Ain’t hit, pard?” ‘*That’s about the way I feel, Pete; and, if you think best, we'll remain here.” Having thus decided, Little Lariat led his: horse up the wash-out, the others following slowly. Jose assisted Pete and Ned until the gully became shallow; then they left it, and re- turned to their camp, the horses and equipments. being removed to an ‘‘open” not far distant, A couch of blankets was formed by Jose, in a thicket, for Ned and Pete. Then, after furnish- ing them with food and water, he left them to pass the night together, side by side. After hearty farewells, Jose and Little Lariat: mounted their mustangs; and rode slowly to- ward the northwest, in the direction of the home of the young ranchero, CHAPTER VII. THE ATTACK ON THE RANCH. Anovt the same time that Little Lariat dash- ed down the wash-out, ela by the bandits, who fell before the revolvers and bowies of our while the others looked at him with | Texan friends, a score of murderous-looking Mexicans, led by Capitan Carajal, approached “Air yer hurted, boyee, an’ nevér hes said a | the “open” in which was located the ranch of word, but kept on ’tendin’ ter we’uns? Now,, dang me, ef I doesn’t ‘tend ter yeou!” “Come here, pard Jose,” said Little Lariat; “why did you not say you were wounded?” Jose, however, had not groaned on account of | sion, his serpe the Bentons. A more depraved and fiendish party of horse- men were seldom seen together; and the face of their leader was stamped with every evil pas- nt-like eyes darting eager glances his wound, but he allowed them to think that | through the chaparral on all sides, suspicion in such was the case. : The thoughts of the Mexican boy were of the danger of Bertha Benton from the vengeance of Capitan Carajal; for he felt assured that the bandits who had pursued Little Lariat were a ortion of Carajal’s command, and that they his every expression. Soon ‘he jerked his mustang to a halt, and alighted, with a gesture of command and a hiss of caution that caused his followers to dismount also. He then secured his steed to the stem of a mesquite, and stole silently forward; first bid- ad crossed the Rio Grande for the purpose of | ding his men remain as they were. capturing Bertha, her mother and brother, and then burning the ranch. But a few paces had he gone, when an ejacu- lation of the most intense satisfaction escaped He did not think it prudent, however, to re- | him. Situated in the middle of a natural veal the knowledge he possessed, as the Texans | “open,” was a dwelling, far better in appear~ might endanger their lives by at once speeding | ance than the frontier houses in general; being kag = a rE fe oe SS 4
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age Coad y + fs - Las S ucted of sawed timbers and boards, with windows, and a neat gothic veranda. : The house was almost literally covered with F ~—S_- vines. The roof was but slightly sloping, and there was a smaller building in the rear, which was used as a kitchen. To the further side of the ‘‘ open,” which was some three acres in extent, could be seen several corra's constructed with ~ aga yaa pickets, some eight feet in hight, and set closely in the earth in an upright position. Seated upon the front veranda, in a large rocking-chair, was a lady of some forty years of age, still beautiful, but whose face was marked with lines of care and grief. She was engaged in reading a book of poems, ; and at times gazing toward the gorgeous sunset, and then at another form near her. It was that of a maiden of surpassing, refined, and_almost angelic beauty—none other than Bertha Benton, who has already been introduced to the reader. The lady in the chair, we need hardly say, j was Mrs. Benton, the widowed owner of the 4 ranch, and mother of Bert and Bertha. f: The latter was now pacing back and forth on the veranda, and like her mother was gazing with admiration at the red sun, the lower disk of which seemed resting on the top of the wide- spreading ocean of chaparral, as it reluctant to ‘, lose sight of that little flower-bordered home. ' But, at times, the fair face of Bertha Benton showed signs of deep concern, and she gazed around the borders of the “open,” at the dif- © ferent points where ingress and egress between the dense thickets of thorns was possible ‘““T wonder why Bert doesn’t return?’ she at length exclaimed, betraying more of anxiety in her voice than had been shown in her face. 4 ‘* Mother, do you not feel worried in regard to ; Bert’s proneet absence?” “T think our boy is rather late,” answered Mrs. Benton; who, however, seemed anxious, on her daughter’s account, not to betray too much apprehension. ‘But he has often re- mained away all night, you know. Sometimes he is obliged to follow stray cattle such a dis- tance that it is impossible for him to reach home.” “ But, mother, I know Bert has not gone out to-day to search for stock. Of late he has been looking for signs of Mexican bandits, and with ood reasons. Carajal is not one to forget, and it is but a week since he was foiled in his at- Mii to capture my brother and myself.” ‘Since your father’s tragic death,” was- Mrs. Benton’s reply, ‘‘I can never hear those Mexi- can invaders mentioned without my blood chil- ling. I do wish that we could dispose of our ranch, even for half its value, and seek a home - where we would be safe from the murderous bandits of the Rio Grande. * Bertha, I dread the coming night, for I have all day felt a presentiment of evil. Itis coming now,” she exclaimed suddenly, ‘‘ I am positive of at ‘There is no wind, not even the usual evening breeze, yet [ have been watching the chaparral directly in front of our home, and I have ob- served the tops of the mesquites shaking violent- ly at several points. ‘My darling, there are certainly men in the chaparral, who have secured their horses to the trees, and are now crouching in hiding! Do not exhibit alarm, I beg of you! Oh, where 1s my son?” The fair girl trembled with dread at the first words of alarm ken by her parent; but she controlled herself bravely, and betrayed her fear in no other way. Walking carelessly into the house, she flew from window to window, and closed the heavy oaken shutters, barring the same. Then, before she went again to the veranda, she took down from their place two double-barreled shotguns EP - and a pair of revolvers—the last mentioned be i ing in holsters which were attached to belts, ior The guns she loaded quickly and dexterously, Fb }> Ah heavy charges of buckshot. ? Buckling one of the six-shooters around her fy waist, Bertha placed. the other with the guns iB upon the table; securing some matches and can- ] ates, which she left where she could p'ace her : Ssaels: Son them in the darkness. This done, me eI. hy wi she wen to the front door, and said hurriedly: ae _ * Allis secure, mother, exceptin front. Come in at once, and we will close and bar the door. ae ig “a attend to the east ion a I Sy ne west. ay ww pr: “ Be brave, my child! We shall gain nothing by ty 3 baits a to rule us. J < the 2 posite, ver depends upon being calm Ie oN te rng eM e thus spoke, Mrs, Benton sprung from her chair, through tle doorway, and slammed sj OT a ye i: 4 7 a 2 he . Little Lariat, - . s 4 7 3 : a the door; Bertha placing the heavy bars in posi- tion. Then each ran quickly to the rooms front- ing on the veranda on either side of the hall. ut, barely had the first shutters been closed, when a series of terrific yells rung on the even- ing air—yells of baffled rage and vengeful mean- o Ere the last windows were barred, the mother and daughter had caught sight of the brutal marauders, as they spurred headlong toward the dwelling, trampling into the earth the beautiful flowers that surrounded it. The maiden could hardly repress a shriek, as she recognized in the leader of the band none other than Capitan Carajal! Never could that fiendish face be forgotten. For a moment, Bertha and her mother stood, in the dense darkness of their abode, unable to speak or move; while the tramp of many hoofs, and loud curses and threats were heard upon every side of the dwelling, ‘Come, mother dear,” said the girl, ina strange voice; ‘“‘do not give way to fear! Til light some candles at once, and then we will show these outlaws that it is not so easy a mat- ter to capture us as they think. ‘“‘T can shoot with some effect, I believe. If we can keep the fiends off for a while, Bert may arrive with assistance. He may hear our guns, you know. Come, mother, be brave!” “JT will try, Bertha. I know you can shoot, dear; and so can I, if my nerves will only be- come firm. I hope my son will not return alone while the bandits are here. If he does, he will be killed.” Mrs. Benton seemed to think that she could maintain her firmness by talking, but her daugh- ter noticed not her words, but grasped a gun at once, and: hastened to the side of the room, where she turned a wooden button, allowing a portion of the planking to be opened inward, thus revealing a loop-hole, The yells of the bandits were, by this time, terrific, and they pounded the doors with clubs; but as Bertha could discover no foes from her position, she hastened to the rear door, which was likewise furnished with a small, movable trap. Through this the brave girl thrust her gun, both hammers being cocked, and instantly pulled trigger. Fearful were the groans and yells that follow- ed, for the maiden had put in heavy loads, From the ejaculations of the outlaws, she knew that she had slain more than one of the mis- creants, besides wounding several, Pale as death, she gave one glance at her mother, and then, with forced calmness, pro- ceeded to reload the gun. _ The eyes of Mrs. Benton were fixed and star- ing as she listened, in horror and dread, to the awful sounds so near them, At times she fan- cied she could hear the defiant taunting and vengeful yell of that brave and daring boy, Little Lariat. | Both mother and daughter well knew, by the vengeful yells of the bandits, that some desper- ate attempt would be made to break into the dwelling, They had little hope of being able to revent them, for any length of time, from reakin down the doors. yi “Mother,” cried out Bertha, frantically, shoot, even if at the empty air! We may by the sound of our guns draw help to the ranch. Remember they are merciless demons, and that e fate worse than death awaits us if taken cap- ive! These words seemed to nerve the poor woman to a stern resolution; for she walked quickly to one of the east windows, and thrust her gun through the loop-hole. At once she caught a glance of several Greasers, Carrying a Jong, heavy pole. This, she felt sure, was fo be used in breaking in the door. At sight of the bandits she recalled the base murder of her husband, and the thought banish- ed the aversion she had felt to shedding human blood. Carefully she aimed at these men, and pulled both triggers at once. The sounds that followed were terrific. Above the loud shrieks and curses rung the frantic command of Carajal, who was furious at the unexpected defense made by the women, Pr iaee killing and wounding ef so many of his nd. In his p- evious attempt to abduct Bertha Ben- ton, his whole party with one exception had been slain; besides he hed gained no knowledge of some half a score more, Whom he had ordered on in advance, to capture Little Lariat, if the latter could be found anywhere on the range. Had he known that every one of these now lay dead, his fury would have been doubled, To add to the madness of the bandit chief, ' he realized that the reports of the guns might, at aay moment draw avenging Texans to the ranch. These reflections, as he viewed his dead and wounded around him, rendered Capitan Cara- jal insane with desperation; and no sooner had the men who bore the pole been killed or wounded, than he ordered others to grasp it, and to hurl it against the door before the women could reload. But Bertha overheard | him. Catching her mother by the arm, she cried out: “Be brave now, or we are lost! All the bandits are at the rear. We are no longer safe. We must escape, through the front entrance, to the chaparral. Come on, mother dear, or we are doomed!” Buckling the extra revolver about her mother’s waist, Bertha urged her through the hall, and quickly removed the bars of the front docr. assing out, they reclosed it, and both stood be fore the veranda, breathless, and pale as death, Not an outlaw was now tobe seen, to bar their way; and, without a word, the affrighted mother and daughter ran, hand in hand, as they had never run before, toward the friendly shace of the chaparral. But the crash of the pole, and the shattering of the rear door, sounded in their ears, before they had gone ten paces from the veranda. . CHAPTER VIII. IN THE TOILS. BrerTHA and her mother had not gone half tho distance between their house and the chap- arral when the latter turned, and with a hunted and helpless look, gazed into her daughter's face but without a word. “Oh, mother!” cried the poor girl, in an agony of apprehension. ‘‘ What is the matter? Can you not keep up your strength until we reach the thicket? By a great effort of will, Mrs. Benten threw off, in a measure, the paralyzing feclings that ruled her; and, in a hearse whisper, exclaimed, as she pushed Bertha forward: “Fly, my darling, fly! fave yourself! I can no longer exert myself. My heart is treaking. Heaven help us, Bertha! Oh, what has become of my poor boy?” The poor woman staggered on feebly, as she thus spoke, and her daughter saw plainly that she could proceed no faster. They must, then, be discovered and captured; for the noble girl had not, cf course, a thought of abandoning her mother, to seek safety for herself. The picture that she now presented was even grander than the cne in which she was seen so heroically defending their dwelling eet such fearful odds. Snowing the dread doem that awaited her, it was marvelous that she could maintain such firmness. Had she been alcne, or with any oiber than her mother, ske would doubtless have sunk to the ground in despair. But that mother, whom she so fondly loved, was in the same fear- ful peril as herself, and this fact nerved the maiden to a course thet was unaccountable to herself, and which she maintained until her parent’s strength at last gave entirely out. Quickly Bertie jerked her revolver, cocked the weapon, and springing behind her mother, faced their home; walking backward thus, with leveled pistol, as she said, in a strange and un- natural voice: ‘Pass on, mother, dear; pass on to the shades, at as fast a pace as you can! Those demcns shall not harm ycu, or capture cither of us. will shoot them dewn as fast as they come upon us!” Passively Mrs. Benton obeyed. Indeed she / had not the strength of will or body to do any- thing but comply with Bertha’s request. She coemed to bave beccme almost apathetic, through despair end agony of mind, trom the moment she had been obliged to pause in the midst of her flight. : But, who can imagine the awful strain upcon poor Bertha, as she slowly paced backward, in the manner dcscribed, gazing at the home she so loved, and within which now was a pillaging horde of miscreants?. She could hear a terrible din within the dwelling, the crashing of furni- ture and glass, and the tramping of men all over the house, She looked fixedly at the front ccor, through which her mother and herself had escaped, ex- pecting to see it broken open, end the swarthy ruffians spur forth in a mad mob. It would have been torture to ary cne rot entirely heartless, to have gazed into Bertha Benton’s face at that time. So terrible was the suspense to her, that it would really have beem
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a a relief to have seen the door open, and the out- law Greasers rush wildly toward her. But this suspense was not to be of long contin- uance. The bandits soon searched the house, but without success, Then, knowing their intended vietims could not have escaped, except by. the | front of the dwelling, they examined the door, found it unbarred, and opened it. Then they ciscovered, not far from the dwelling, the pair vo had caused them so much trouble, as well | &s causing the death of so many of their com- rades, The yell that burst from the outlaws, upon seein rs. Benton and her daughter, made the very hearts of the hunted women cease pulsa- tion, They knew that their doom was sealed! All hope was now banished. They were lost! And poor Little Lariat? His coming home would be terrible indeed! At the orders of Capitan Carajal, the mus- tangs were at once brought around, and all mounted. Only the most exultant yells were now heard. All galloped madly toward the two fugitives, some speeding between them and the line of thickets; thus cutting off escape, and not only that, but preventing Bertha from being able to dofend her mother except from one point, and then she could be captured from the rear with- out trouble. This the poor girl perceived, and she whirled around, crying out: yourself with your revolver! at any moment,” But poor Mrs. Benton was totally unfit to act upon this suggestion. “Stand back, cowards!” yelled Bertha, her eyes flashing, as she took aim at a galloping elp may come there seemed no grounds to base such hope upon. emi it will be seen that the maiden was in a most agonized state of mind; indeed, it was a marvel that she retained sense and reason. As for poor Mrs. Benton, she seemed to have been mercifully benumbed in brain after the first gush of tears at sight of the spoliation of her home; she relapsing into a lethargic state deeper than previously, and thus adding to the anguish of her daughter. | After all the valuables had been secured, Car- | ajal ordered the corrals and dwelling to be given to the torch; but he regretted having done this | mad act when it was too late, for so infuriated had he been at the slaying of his men, and-so , excited and maddened at not having at once secured the women, that he had lost his judg- ment. realized that it would be next to impossible for him to cross the Rio Grande at either the ford | above or below, as the light from the conflagra- tion would cause the fords to be watched by the Texans. However, this very fact, together with an- other which he thought of, determined the ban- dit chief upon a far different course from that which he had intended to take, The troops and the Texans would suppose, without any doubt, that he would retreat direct- ly toward the fords, avoiding as far as was pos- sible the main Government roads, Consequent- ly, they would beat the chaparrals along the | river in search of him, keeping the main force “ Stand still, mother, and if possible, defend | in waiting near Rio Grande City. He, there- fore, determined to pass out from the “open” in which the ranch was now burning, on the north side; and then, by cattle-paths, proceed down the river, remaining in hiding until the searchers should come to the conclusion that he had crossed the Rio Grande before they had Mexican who rode directly toward her. At once she pulled trigger. Up into the air shot the arms of the outlaw, e horrible shriek of em 7 agony and terror bursting from his lips as he fell from his horse, a corpse, A furious yell broke from all, and the next in- stant a dozen lassoes hissed through the air, ‘any nooses encircling the forms of both mo- ther and daughter, who were thus bound to- gether in a most torturing manner. Carajal sprung from his saddle, jerked the re- volver from Bertha, and bade a number of his followers loosen the lariats. This the murder- ously inclined ruffians obeyed with evident re- luctance, they undoubtedly wishing to drag the women to death. Mrs. Benton and Bertha were bound to the saddles of two of the horses whose owners had lost their lives, and all returned to the ranch. The bandit leader knew that he must give his followers unbounded license, in connection with the pillaging of the ranch and corrals, and also allow them to burn the home of Little Lariat; otherwise he would have serious trouble with them, and the captives would be in danger of death. He, therefore, gave them permission to secure to the saddles of the riderless steeds what- ever plunder they wished, and also to pack all animals found in the corrals, First, however, he gave orders that the slain should buried. This was quickly done, for they all knew that every moment of delay was attended with great danger. For a short time great confusion and no little contention ruled, as the valuables were being taken from the dwelling. Poor Bertha had broken down the moment the lassoes encircled her so cruelly; for at that mo- ment all hops fled, and the darkest despair ruled her heart and brain. To be at the mercy of that horde of murder- ous bandits was indeed terrible, but that her } mother was forced to witness the destruc- yon of her home was tenfold more so, No lon- er did she wish that Little Lariat would arrive, for well she knew that the reckless youth, even ‘were he to come with a force sufficiently strong to cope with the folfowers of Capitan Carajal successfully, would, at the sight of his mother and sister, rush madly to their rescue, and meet almost certain death, And besides, it was far from probable that Bert would have any help with him, should he arrive before the departure of Carajal, for the boy could have no knowledge of the presence of the bandits. If her brother did come, it would be to meet death; and then there would be no hope of their being rescued. Bertha had great confidence in Bert, although she entertained no hope on his account, for gotten their forces stationed. Having thus decided, he informed his men: and in riding singly, each leading a horse loaded with the plunder—the animals upon which the captives were bound being secured to the tails of others in front of them—the line, led by Capitan Carajal, disappeared among the chap- arral, following cow-paths and unconsciously proceeding directly toward the scene of the con- flict Letween the other portion of their raiding- party and those of woe they had been in search; the band who had met their total de- struction at the hands ‘of Pecan Pete, Nueces Ned, Jose Sanchez and Little Lariat. _ CHAPTER IX. LITTLE LARIAT TOO LATE. Jose SANCHEZ, previous to the start from the int where Pete and Ned had decided to remain or the night, had bound about the wounded head of Little Lariat a handkerchief well satu- rated with water, into which had been poured a small quantity of brandy which Nueces Ned had in his saddle-bags. ise Sond the young ranchero had not gone far when he began to feel more like himself, and to wish to travel faster. He, therefore, spurred at a short lope; Jose keeping close beside his Texan pard. Both were too much concerned and apprehen- sive in regard to the presence of the bandits on the Texan side of the river, and so near to Ben- ton Ranch, to care about conversing, except in the way of occasional short questions and an- swers. At length, however, the young Mexican unburdened his mind in connection with his resence down the river, which had resulted in is capture by Ned and Pete, and nearly in his being hanged. The youth acknowledged that he had, to a cer- tain extent, spoken falsely before leaving the lly, as he did not wish to needlessly alarm ittle Lariat, or cause the other two Texans to mount, in their wounded state, and ride to the ranch. Jose revealed the fact that he had, since the attempt of Carajal to abduct Bertha and cap- ture his Texan pard, been very much concerned in regard to the safety of the females at Benton Ranch, and the ranch itself. Knowing the perfidy and revengeful nature of Carajal and his followers, Jose asserted that he had no doubt the bandit chief would soon at- tempt once move to abduct Bertha, and have revenge for the lives of the men he had lost in his first and unsuccessful attempt. He had, there- fore, made up his mind, after having left the hospitable home of his Texan friends, to go as a spy into the outlaw stronghold in Mexico, dis- guised as a girl, and in that way satisfy himself as to the intentions of Carajal. This he had done, and as¢ertained that the bandit leader had planned another raid, with a No sooner had the flames burst forth than he | force of over thirty men; ten or twelve of whom were to be dispatched ahead of the others, for the purpose of searching for and. capturing Little Lariat when he was on the range, riding after cattle. Jose had hastened to cross the river, but had been, when in Mexico, forced to secrete himself during one entire day. This had delayed hi pard of the intended raid of Capitan Carajal, when he had been captured by Pecan Pete, as a suspicious character, and believed by the scout to be a spy of Cortina. When he had recovered, after the interrupted hanging, and ascertained that a party of ban- dits had chased Little Lariat into the camp of Pete and Ned, the boy then concluded that Carajal’s raiding expedition, and that the main »ortion of the band would soon be at Benton anch. However, events and circumstances had so occurred that it had been made impossible for any of them to hasten to the ranch until he and Bert had started. The latter, as may be supposed, listened to these explanations oF Jose with intense interest, and in an agony of apprehension: both at once spurring on at headlong speed, as the youthful Mexican had finished. ‘a vestige But, not many yards had they galloped, when they jerked their horses to Satine. and from the lips of Little Lariat burst language that would have filled any listener with pity, con- sideration, and compassion. “‘God in Heaven! My home is on fire! Jose, the outlaws have begun their work. My poor mother and sister—on, Jose, on! Their lives may depend upon a moment’s time!” “It is that diablo, Carajal!” exclaimed Jose. “Spur, pard, for vengeance; we may yet save your mother and sister!” Both now fairly flew toward the red glare that illumined the sky, rendered the moon pale, and flashed over the vast ocean of chaparral. Headlong, at terrific speed, with tortured hearts and brains, rode these Mexican and Texan youths, Perhaps the bullet of the bandit, which had benumbed the brain of the young ranchero, to a certain extent prevented his anguish from being as acute, or he as desperate and despairing as he would have ott in a more natural state. But the frequent glances of Jose into the face of his pard caused the Mexican lad to shudder; so drawn, and changed, and pale, were Little Lariat’s features. He, too, suffered little less: picturing, as he did the golden-haired sister of his friend in the repulsive embrace of Canales Carajal, the mis- creant Marauder! The eyes of Little Lariat were fixed, in a hor- rified agony, upon the pare of his home; and the pictures created in his imagination of the ssible happenings there, must have been terri- le indeed, to produce the feelings mirrored by the expression of face and eye. He spoke no words of blame to Jose for his previous reticence, yet it would have been quite natural for him to have been indignant, and to have accused him of criminal neglect. Jose knew that, had he not been captured by Pecan Pete, he would have had ample time to reach the ranch before the attack had been made; and, possibly, he could have guided Mrs. Benton and 3 daughter to a place cf safety. Every flash of the flames above the ¢ haparrals seemed to burn into the very soul of Little Lariat, and he groaned in agony, as he drove deep the cruel § urs. Surely now, if not be- fore, he had sufficient cause to devote his life to, vengeance upon the followers of Juan Cortina! Henceforth, he vowed, he would be as merciless as an Apache, when a bandit fell into his power. Following well-known paths that led in a ser- pentine course toward his heme, the sharp scratching and tearing of the torturing thorns on the mesquite branches through which he dashed at fearful speed being unnoticed, his eyes fastened upon the glare of the fire—thus on went the youthful ranchero. Jose Sanchez followed, with equal speed; the mustangs of both being covered with foa panting with exertion, and grunting from the pain inflicted by the ated ile But short was this terrible ride, for the speed that was maintained seen breught the two youths to the ‘“‘open,” both shooting from the dense chaparral into the clear space, like arrows shot from bow, And both, with deep groens, jerked their animals to baurches: for, dwelling and corrals were but smoldering ruins, and not of life was to be seen within the ‘‘open!” All was silent as death. and he had been on his way to inform his Texan ‘ these outlaws had been the advance party of -
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Little Lariat. 9 Quickly the youths again drove spurs, and sj.d up as near the ruins as their affrighted steeds could be forced. Plain ‘‘sign” was there of the marauders— unmistakable “ sign!” The beautiful flowers were trampled to earth by many unshod mustangs; and, as they made their way slowly around the rear of the ruined ;house, pools of blood were discovered. The )keen eyes of the y« ung Mexican detected spades and shovels, that had evidently been cast aside in a hurry near newly-turned earth—a large grave, without doubt, in which several human | beings had been buried. The pole that had been used to break in the | door, was but partly burned; and, as Little Lariat knew it had been brought from the cor- | Sot t rals, he decided that not only had his mother and | wit h S : f determination; his eyes blazing with a thirst sister seen the approach of the bandits, but that they had had sufficient time to secure the doors, if not the windows as well. Then, when he perceiyed the grave, he and Jose gazed into each other’seyesin horror, _ Could it be possible that the outlaws had slain Mrs, Benton and Bertha? — : Here was a mystery which only the opening of the grave would solve. ‘ Whose blood was it that stained the sward? A moment’s reflection, and an examination of the ground, decided the two lads that some of the bandits had been killed. But who had done this? Who had been with the women when the ranch was attacked? These questioning thoughts occurred to both, seemingly at the same time; for, as Jose sprung toward the newly-made grave, so did Little Lariat. Each grasped a spade, and began cast- ing away the earth in frantic haste; longing, and yet dreading to uncover the corpses beneath lest the faces of Mrs, Benton and Bertha should be revealed to their horrified gaze. The outlaws had not buried their comrades deep, and soon our young friends uncovered no fewer than six dead Greasers, their repulsive | faces and forms made more so by the violent deaths they had met, and the dirt of the grave mingled with their own gore. A loud ery of relief and thankfulness broke from both Bert and Jose, as the last of the hide- ous corpses was exposed to view. “Thank Heaven!” exclaimed Little Lariat. **My worst fears were unfounded. But my mo- ther and sister are in the power of those who know no mercy, Jose, stand by me!—Come— the trail! The trail!” “T am with you, Little Lariat, to the last breath,” said the young Mexican, quickly. ‘“‘ We must not give way to our feelings, for the lives of your mother and sister depend upon us alone. I should have supposed that the soldiers and citizens would have been here, as the flames must have been seen. ‘‘ Yet-some one must have been defending the dwelling. Who could it have been? There are no slain Texans here. Did the demons cast them into the flames? . ‘*Perhaps the senora and senorita were res- cued. How know you they have been cap- tured? Can you explain it?” “‘ Jose Sanchez,” said Bert, ‘my mother and sister killed those bandits. All were slain with buckshot. They defended the ranch and them- selves until the door was brokenin. Itis all as plain as daylight to me.” “Santissima Maria!’ cried Jose, in the greatest surprise and admiration; ‘“syour mo- ther and sister are indeed brave. start on the trail atonce: We will rescue them now, or die in the attempt!” While thus speaking, the youths had not re- | mained at the grave, but slowly strode in a cir- | cling course, to pass around the ruins of the | ranch; both of them examining the ground in- _ tently, and fortunately for them, passing along by the rear of the burned dwelling first. Soon they halted, with ejaculations of surprise and relief. ’ : ‘‘ By heavens!” was the exclamation of Little Lariat; “the fiends have not gone toward the road, but north. I had no idea of discovering the trail here. : ‘* Lead the horses, Jose, and follow! I will trace the miscreants on foot, until we know their course, and can determine what point they are heading for. As to the soldiers and citizens, But we must | I do not want them to follow the trail; for, if | they charged into the bandits, my mother and Bertha a be killed. The followers of that demon, Carajal, after having had their comrades | shot down by them, will slay their captives be- fore they will allow them to be rescued.” : “You are right, pard.” agreed Jose. ‘‘ You yourself than Ihave. Under such sad circum- stances, it is fortunate indeed that it is so. ““Go on, now! I will secure the horses; and, as you suggest, we will try and get clear of the | ‘open’ before any one else arrives.” ittle Lariat, half bent, proceeded rapidly along the trail, which was well defined, as the flames still illumined the ‘‘ open.” Jose, after securing the animals, led them af- ter his pard; and soon the two youthful aven- gers and rescuers were beyond the smoldering corrals, having found the place where the ma- rauders had entered the chaparral. It was ap- parent that. they had proceeded eastward, par- allel with the Rio Grande, but a consider- able distance from the same. ** Capitan Carajal is as cunning as a fox, but ll outwit him,” said the young ranchero, with for revenge, which at times was banished to give place to the most harrowing concern and anguish. “He was afraid to go toward either ford, knowing that the flames would be likely to | alarm the rancheros, and could also be seen at Ringold Barracks and Rio Grande City.~ It is strange he should have cut off his retreat, by al- lowing the ranch to be fired, “*Come, Jose, mount and on! Rescue and re- venge must be our war-cry! I'll save my mother and sister, or die in the attempt; and if lose my life I must, I swear that I will cause some of the cowardly fiends to give their last yell before I knock under! “Come, my faithful friend and pard! May Heaven protect them and us, and lead us to them!” “* Lead on, Little Lariat! Illfollow. But be keen and careful, or we shall lose the trail, and thus doom those whom: we would serve to a worse than death.” ‘“T shall bear that in mind, you may be sure, May the Fates, that have been so cruel to me and mine, be more kindly and merciful from this moment!” ‘““Amen!” came with much feeling from Jose; and the two youths disappeared on the trail of the bandits, in the dark shades of the chaparral, On they went, trusting to their knowledge of the grassy ‘ opens,” cattle-paths, and probable course that Capitan Carajal would travel, more than to any indication, or “sign,” which, how- ever plain by daylight, was not to be distinguish- - by night, in the depth of gloom in that sea of thorns. CHAPTER X. ON THE TRAIL, JOSE and Little Lariat had formed very com- fortable couches of the blankets and saddles, for the two wounded Texans, Pecan Pete, and Nueces Ned; and it was not many minutes after the departure of the two youths, before the wearied men both sunk into slumber, lulled by the sounds made by the horses near them, tear- ing up the rich zrass of the ‘‘ open.” Weakness from loss of blood had tended to- ward both passing easily into the land of dreams; but both were; on ordinary occasions, light sleepers, awaking at the slightest unusual sounds, and as their recent startling adventures, coupled with a consciousness before going to sleep of the danger of their position should other bandits seek those who had been slain near their covert—all this tended to cause cur | friends to be nearly as easily aroused as when in a natural state of health. The consequence was, that their slumbers were not only rendered restless and broken by the yelping and snarling of coyotes, but they were wide awake in a very short time after having sunk to sleep; for the sneak wolves men- tioned scented the blood of the slain Greasers, and gathered in the vicinity in large numbers. There is DO night sound more annoying: and irritating then the yelping and snarling of a pack of coyotes. This constantly disturbed the slumbers of the scouts, besides greatly infuriat- ing them, for they were in need of sleep, hen, after becoming thoroughly awake, their wounds became troublesome. All this, although at the time it was disagree- able in_ the extreme, the pair afterward ac- knowledged to have been providential, ‘**Sufferin’ Moses!” burst from Pecan Pete. as he opened his eyes for good, having vainly | striven to drop off again intoslumber, ‘* Dang, an’ double dang, ther condemned kiotes!’ Why in thunderation don’t they take thar Greaser hash in peace, an’ low we-uns what furnished ’em the’r feed, ter siester a few fleetin’ periods?” Nueces Ned, with a groan, turned slightly in have a better judgment, and a better control of ' his blankets, and spoke also: " “T reckon I'll give it up too, pard Pete. I did hate to be disturbed, and for that reason did not move or speak lest I should awaken you. I have had only a cat-nap, for I’ve been listen- ing to the coyote concert for some time. I don’t believe we are going to get much rest to-night.” ““ By ther bleed o’ Crockett! Ef ther jubilee air hep’ up, I'll git. roarin’, ragin’ mad, an’ be inclernated ter waste powder on ther yelpin’ critters.” “That would be foolish, Pete, and imprudent | too as we are situated; for the reports might bring a pack of Greasers down onus. If the gang that we cleaned out are but a portion of a larger band, it seems probable that the others may be here before morning; for they were about to encamp above us, according to the re- port of Little Lariat.” ** Sufferin’ Moses!” Thus exclaimed Pecan Pete, as he sprung to a sitting posture, and gazed through the sparse foliage at the western sky. “What has struck you now?” asked Ned, Se at the same time clutching at his re- volver. “Great Goliar! I thought ther sun went down a long time fore we-uns crawled in hyer.” “Most certainly it did,” agreed Ned, strug- gling to kis feet with difficulty, for his wound had stiffened. ‘‘ What of it?” ‘*Then, by the great gates o’ Jericho, hit’s comin’ back ag’in! Fer I'll sw’ar hit ain’t mornin’, an’ I’m dead-sure I’m gazin’ west’ard. Jist look, pard, an’ then ax me what of hit?” The old scout caught hold of a mesquite-bush, and drew himself to a standing position, assist- ing Ned to the same. When the two men stood upright the amaze- ment of both was extreme. For a moment they stood speechless. That which they beheld was the light of the burning ranch, which, atlhough four miles in a direct line from them, was remarkably bright and striking in the nighttime, though no flames could be seen. In a moment, however, the character of the strange light became known to them. They knew it must proceed from a large fire, without doubt a burning ranch. ‘**Dang my ole heart, Ned! Thar’s more hell- ishness, er I’m a nigger!” ‘*T reckon yow’re right, Pete!” ‘‘ An’ dang me of I ain’t inclined to persume hit’s Leetle Lariat’s ranch!” “Right again you are. For that is the direc- tion he pointed out before leaving here, and he said it was about four miles. That’s his home burning, I haven’t a doubt; and his mother and sister were there alone, for that was the reason he left us. “I noticed that he and Jose seemed greatly worried. When we captured that Mexican boy he said he had important news for the owner of Benton Ranch. That’s Little Lariat. Now, I honestly believe he knew they were in danger oo was riding to warn them when we corraled im. “Tt does look, pard, as though we were guilty of a great mistake, to say the least of it, for he would have had time to reach the ranch had we not detained him. However, there was some- thing providential in the affair, for through capturing Jose we were enabled to save the life of Little Lariat, and wipe outa number of the ascally Greasers, *“'Ye're right thar, pard:; but arter all, Leetle Lariat mought hev skinned through -O. K.; sides hit’s jist orful fer weemin ter he.tuck by ther ornerr, miser’ble scum o’ Cortina. T won't Jet myself down light, fer Tl own hit war nasty all ’roun’ fer ter i the Mexi boyee. “7 war jist hungry ter hang a Greaser, er I wouldn’t ha’ did, hit—dog-gone me ef I would! But. what’s ter be did now?” | _“T sw’ar hit’s thunderin’ tough ter be in this fix, an’ we-uns needed ter perteck caliker— needed bad, by granny!” “Well, it can’t be helped. Little Lariat and Jose have arrived at the ranch by this time, and perhaps have been captured or shot. But that light will alarm the country hereabouts, and help will come.” “Ya-as, as us’al, arter ther Greasers hev skuted ‘cross ther Grande. I sw’ar ter crackey, this air billions! I’m goin’ ter chaw ther bark off a mesquite tree, jist ter vent my hyder- yhobic !” ° Nueces Ned would have laughed at the ex- pressions and manner of the old scout, had he been in a laughing mood. As it was, he gazed | at the glow in the west, with a mind full of pain- | ful imaginings. ‘ Perfectly helpless were they, as far as going to the aid of the Bentons was concerned; but,
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10 for that matter, they Imew it would be useless, as the marauders were undoubtedly miles away by that time from the ruins, with the plunder and captives they had secured. Grin and bear it, they must. But, to those wounded Texans, if was torture, to be thus forced to remain inactive when they were so badly needed; and that, by those be- longing to Little Lariat, who had made a most favorable impression upon them. The coyotes had been drawing nearer, and their yelping had increased; but, to the surprise of the two scouts, who were viewing the light of the conflagration, now dyigy down gradually the barking suddenly ceascu at the northwar¢ and westward, toward the gully and the point | where Little Lariat had discovered the bandits. Not only did the wounded men notice this sudden cessation of yelping, at the points men- tioned, but they soon detected the rush of large | ; | tives had been threatened with cruel gags did The af- | numbers of the wolves southward, passing be- tween their covert and the wash-out. frighted state of these animals spreading to the others, the chaparrals soon became silent—a si- lence that was most impressive. “What in thunderation’s broke loose now exclaimed Pecan Pete, in a surprised tone of Little Lariat. The scouts, by this time, were on their feet. “Thet’s me, pard, clean ter ther backbone,” said Pete. “We'll drap some more Greasers, ter keep t’others company an’ furnish lunch fer all them howlin’ kiotes.” Delaying only to secure their carbines, and take a drink of brandy, the two wounded Texans stole, on their hands and knees, through the chaparral, repudiating pain and weakness, and resolved to rescue the captives. CHAPTER XI. THE CAPTIVES IN CAMP, BrertHa BENTON, bound fast in a cruel man- ner upon a horse, was forced to gaze upom her voice. ** Thar’s somethin’ what ain’t dead *nough | fer kiotes in this hyer locate, an’ somethin’ what | ther skulkin’ scavengers air afeard ter linger | nigh to.” © Hu-s-sh!? came, in warning, from Nueces mother in a like position. Beyond the bent form of the peer woman, the maiden could dis- tinguish the brutal bandits winding in a line through the shades of the chaparral. Not a word was spoken by the outlaws, and the cap- they attempt to do so. Silent and grim, all proceeded through the weird shades; above them, in strong contrast, shining the silvery moon. 3ertha dared not think of the future in con- nection with her own probable fate. And then—her poor mother! It was dreadful, it was too horrible! Before the start had been made, the poor girl had heard the vengeful threats of the bandits, | and saw that Carajal could hardly control them; Ned; ‘‘keep cool and silent, pard! You know | very well, although you do not wish to alarm me, that enemies are near at hand. It is Grea- sers, you may depend. Just keep still, and listen. for we're in a tight box!” As Ned spoke, he slowly lowered himself to a sitting posture, Pete following his example, and afterward whispering: “Yere mighty right, Ned! I know’d fu’st off thet thar war more o’ ther yaller-bellies sneakin’ nigh ther locate. Leastways, I war ormighty sure hit war Greasers, fer everything yinted thet-a-way. Ef our critters doesn’t gin us away, we're hunky, I reckon, ontil sun-up; but then look out, fer things "Il be lively.” For some time, the pair remained silent, both listening intently. They heard sounds, but so slight as to baffle them as to how or by whom made; yet, they had not the slightest doubt, that a body of ban- dits from Mexico were within rifle-shot of them. se rk !” i exclaimed the old scout quickly, after a riod of listening to the strange sounds. «« Bend low!” he added, a moment later. Had there been any doubt in their minds, it was soon banished; for the sound of many hoofs met their ears, and they knew that the animals were advancin den by human beings. It was now evident to the two Texans, that | they were encompassed by dangers, which it | would be difficult to avoid. To be sure, they could equip their Horses, crawl into their sad- dies, and slowly retreat_toward the river; but they might be discovered, and that before a re- treat could be made. Such reasonings seemed to have occupied the mind of each, for Ned whispered: “ We'll stay, and risk it.” ‘“‘ Ya-as, I reckon,” agreed Pete. They continued listening. From long practice, and a thorough knowl- edge of tlie sounds made by the movements of animals, the scouts were enabled to decide that the night-riders had gained a location that suit- ed them asa camping-place, had halted, and were then leading their horses to different points, for the purpose of securing them at favorable grazing “ oO ns.” Soon the old scout again whispered: “Some o’ ther galoots air leadin’ the’r nags plum ter whar ther ‘ stiffs’ air laid out ” “I am sure they are,” returned Ned; ‘and they will soon know their fellow-bandits have come to grief.” Barely had this whisper left the young scout’s lips, when @ yell of superstitious horror burst en the night air. This was close followed by another, as if an echo of the first; and then a shriek cut to the very hearts of the listeners, as it evidently was uttered by a woman in deadly peril. “ Sufferin’ Moses! ter!” These words of Pecan Pete were spoken almost too loud for safety. ‘“Yowre right,” responded Ned, “and we'lldo | We ain’t | our level best toward her rescue. worth much, but I’m on the crawl, from the word go!” slowly, and that they were rid- | Hit’s ther same outfit thet | burned Leetle Lariat’s ranch, an’ thet’s his sis- | that he could with difficulty prevent them from slaying them both, im sight of their burning home. This, the unfortunate maiden felt, might happen now at any moment. One could searce be nearer insanity, from ter- ror and anguish, than was Bertha Benton. The wonder was that she did not faint in her ponds; and only the sight of the bowed form of her mother, in the power of such murderous wretches, kept her from losing sense and reason. On they rode, until it seemed to the poor girl that the march would neyer end—that she must die in that position, bound to the horse! And yet, as they proceeded further and fur- ther, the fact shot through Bertha’s brain that, although they had traveled more than the dis- tance necessary to reach the Rio Grande, they had not yet seen that river. Not until a faint hope arose in consequence of this did she reason and consider as to the point at which the bandits had left the “open” in which had been her home, and the course they had traveled. Gazing at the moon, she per- ceived that they were going in a southeasterly direction, and’ nearly parallel with the Rio trande, being little nearer it than when they started. This gave fresh hope to the unhappy captive, for she did not believe the outlaws would cross the river that night, and consequently pursuers might overtake them and a rescue be accom- plished. She felt confident that her brother had reached the ‘‘ open,” had seen his desolated home, and that he would hasten for help. Most certainly the light of the burning ranch would have been seen by Little Lariat. The maiden then thought Ma the anguish the poor boy would suffer on beholding the ruins of his home, and realizing that she and their mother had been carried away. As she was thus agonizing herself by thoughts of Bert’s misery, when certainly she had enough of her own to bear without it, the head of the line made halt at a point where the thickets were more scattered, and mesquites grew here and there, with intervals of green sward. Soon the horses to which her mother and herself were bound were led forward by a burly bandit, @ nd Bertha saw that the lawless horde were about to encamp. The equipments and packed plunder were re- moved from the beasts, and then_ the captives were released from the saddles, Capitan Cara- jal advanced to assist Bertha, but she slid quick- ly off from the mustang to the earth, rather than permit the loathsome bandit chief to touch her with his murder-stained hands. This act on her part caused rude laughter, ribald jests and curses, that shocked the fair girl; but this was banished, as a fearful yell rung out from the shades, followed by another, just as an outlaw roughly jerked Mrs. Benton from the horse to which she had been bound, and flung her upon the sward. This brutal act, and the sight of her mother, apparently dead, eaused Bertha to utter a piercing cry of anguish, which was blended with terror, as one of the miscreant Mexicans drew his euchillo, and sprung toward her. These' were the shrieks that were heard by Pecan Pete and Nueces Ned, and which caused them, weak and wounded though they were, to | resotve to rescue the female, whom they bkeliev- ed, and with truth, to be the sister of: Little Lariat. Capitan Carajal darted forward, between Bertha and the bandit, who would without doubt have plunged his knife into the heart of the maiden, had not his chief prevented it. This Greaser evidently thought that the yells of his comrades had been caused by the discovery of foes, and that the shriek of the captive maiden was uttered as an appeal for help, and to guide the strangers to her rescue. Bertha was thus convinced that the lives of her mother and herself hung upon a hair—that at any time, in the absence of Carajal, the ban- dits might murder them. Any fate, except that which she feared would be hers if the outlaw chief succeeded in taking _ her over the Rio Grande, would have been w e]- comed: but Bertha was not devoid of hcpe— even the yells she had heard being interpreted by her as favorable to rescue—for it a peared to the poor girl that anything w hich fright ned the bandits so terribly must act to a certain extent against them, and consequently for herself and parent. At once she sprung forward. and knelt beside the outstretched form of her mctker, and her heart was filled with joy at finding she had tut fainted. Her fear bad bcen that terror and anguish had finally Cone their wo! k. With threatening menner and curses, Capitan Carajal drove kack the Greaser \ ho had at- temped to stab Bertha; the fellcw slinking gquiet- ly away when he realized that he was not second- ed by his comrades, and that the yells bad not proceeded frcm enemies near their camping lace. , The nature cf the alarm was soon made known by those who hed Lecn so terrified; these men rushing headlong back to camp, with ashen faces, and cycs starting in superstitious horror. Their leader seized one of them, and with his knife at the affrighted wretch’s throat, forced. an explanation from him. Hearing it, he at once decided that the portion of his band sent in advance had come to grief, and he rushed to the nearest point, where the frightened men had sworn they had seen spirits from the infernal regions, to investigate matters. Had those who had been so startled remain- ed long enough to look at the faces of the dead, they would have recognized old comrades; but, breaking through the bushes, directly upcn the slain, who lay in different positions, the terrified bandits bad turned and fled, as though the avenging fiends were after them. When Capitan Carejal ascertained, beyond all doubt, that the dead were those he had sent en in advance to capture Little Lariat, he be- came frantic with rage. It was impossible to keep the facts from the others,and he knew every one would be mad for revenge; and the might even rebel against him for refusing to al- low the women to be slain. He had cetermined that Bertha Benton should be his victim, or wife, he cared not which frem the time when he first saw her, in all her angelic loveliness, at the ball in Rio Grande City; and, since she had fallen into his power, notwithstand- ing she had cost him so dear through so meny of his followers having been killed, he was ready to brave death by the knives of his own men, rather than she should be harmed by them. The chief knew that he was in a very danger- ous position—that his trail might be discovered and followed by the Texers, although he had planned so cunningly to outwit them, by taking a course the opposite of that which they would naturally suppose he would travel. Tn addition to this, he was personally in dan- ver from his own men, who had begun to believe that he wes a very unfortunate leader and that all who followed him were doomed to death. Under these circumstances, it was necesfary for bim to concoct some explanation, which would, for the present, calm their fears, Ho strode quickly from one point to another visiting the guily last of all, and counting the dead. He knew that there had been but few Texans en- gaged in the fight. This was plain, from the fact that there had been several of his r~~. slain in hand-to-hand conflicts, in the wash-ovt. It was impossible, by moonlight, to ascertain further in connection with the party who had ambushed his men; but Carajal fully believed Little Lariat to be one of them, which accounted for the vouth’s absence] from the ranch when it was attacked. Probably the successful Texans had gone to- ward Benton Ranch after the fight, but they had not reached the ‘‘ open” until too late to prevent the capture of the women and the de- struction of the buildings and corrals.
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Little Lariat. The thoughts of the outlaw chief flew rapidly through his brain as he retraced his steps to- ward his camp and his followers. All the band were now collected together, con- | versing in a most excited manner; many of | them being thoroughly frightened, and advoca- ting a rapid retreat across the Rio Grande, even were they forced to cut their way through the Texans, whom they believed to be on the watch | for them. *‘ Are you all children?” cried out Carajal in derision and strong contempt. ‘‘ Are you fools, that you take fright at the harmless dead? I have been to look upon the sights that so terri- fied you. see, unharmed and unmoved except by grief. Listen to me! ‘“* Comrades, our friends who crossed the Bravo before us have all been slain; but, had they obey- ed my orders, they would all have been now alive. They should have made a circuit of the ranch, never being over two miles from the I went alone, and [ return, as you | and eaten; after which all enjoyed their cigar- ettes. Then the animals were brought nearer to the camp, a guard being posted, when all rolled themselves in their blankets preparatory to a night’s rest. ertha had succeeded in bringing her mother | ‘ | aught to favor the captives; nor was there like- back to consciousness, and the two lay sobbing in each other’s arms. The maiden informed her mother that there was no doubt Bert had been at that very point, ina fight with a portion of | ere men, and that the latter had all been slain. She had listened eagerly to all that had been said by the outlaws, and had gained this know- ledge which brought hope to them both. It was beyond question that Little Lariat had others with him in the fight, and that he and they had escaped death, otherwise their corpses would have been discovered by the bandits. All things considered, it was reasonable to | suppose—so Bertha told her mother—that Bert same, and have met us near the Government | road, ‘* Those were my directions, and when they failed to join us, I feared that which I now see has occurred. All have been slain, but they died fighting, and that death is the fortune of war, especially such a warfare as we are now engaged in. and those with him had seen the glare of the burning ranch and sped to the same at once— | perhaps arriving but a moment or two after ‘*T admit that we are in a dangerous position, | but we could not be in a more secure place, any- where within ten miles of where we now are. | Why, you ask in your mind? ‘“‘T willanswer. It is because here there has just been a fight, and the dead lie around as yet untainted, and untorn by the wolves. very reason, the Texans will not come again to this point. “This is the very last place at which they will think of searching for us, and here we are safe, at least for this one night and to-morrow. We have gotten together a good booty, plenty of For that | plunder of every kind, and when we cross the | river, it shall all be divided equally among you. **T ask nothing, except the captives. ‘*T swore revenge upon all that belonged to Little Lariat, when, through him, I lost so many of my brave followers a week ago, and I now hold his mother and sister in my power. To kill them would be but poor revenge. I ‘know of a better way. ‘‘The senorita with golden hair, the sister of | Little Lariat, shall be the slave of your chief. So now let us eat, drink and sleep, All except the guard can so enjoy themselves, ‘We care not for the Texan dogs. We en- | camp on the land they stole from us, after the | blood of our countrymen had moistened the sod overand over. Viva Mexico! Viva Cortina!” “Viva Cortina! Viva el Capitan Carajal!” These outcries were now general, All seemed to have been made easy in their minds by the words of their chief, and to have banished all fear and superstitious terror; in- | deed, they began to put on blustering airs, brag- ging and vaunting one to another of their prow- ess, and that which they would exhibit should | they be attacked by the Texans. CHAPTER XII. LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT. NotwitHstTaNDING that Carajal had succeed- ed in quieting the superstitious fears of his band as to the bad luck they had believed would at- tend the ex cause would be sufficient to change them again, When he had returned to Mexico a week pre-r vious, With but one of his men remaining, that his good fortune had forsaken him. However, he had found little difficulty in ob- taining volunteers for his present raid; but now, these recent fearful reverses would be likely to cause them again to decide that he was nota fitting commander. He knew that it would be next to impossible for him to get) another party of men under his | command for a raid into Texas, Consequently, Capitan Carajal was desperate, and would have been utterly discouraged, were it not that he had the maiden he had sworn to possess in his power. To Little Lariat he fully believed he owed all his evil fortune, and it was a source of great ex- ultation to him that he had it in his power to avenge himself upon the young ranchero. He had the mother and sister, and that was more than he had dared hope for. After quieting his men the bandit chief order- ed a small space to be walled in by the saddles and plunder, and the captives to be placed with- in the same. of the upper end of the gully, food was prepared dition, the chief knew that a slight | they and their captors had disappeared in the chaparrals. If so, Little Lariat would certainly discover the trail and would gallop to. their rescue, It was with such words and hope-inspiring conclusions that mother and daughter strove to lessen each other’s despair in their fearful posi- tion. 4 Capitan Carajal reclined against the wall of saddles that inclosed his captives, and endeavcr- ed to ease his mind by constant smoking. He had no settled plan as to the disposition he would make of Mrs. Benton after reaching Mexico, but he vowed she should never again Jook upon Texas,or the face of her son, and that son should know of his mother’s and sister’s hopeless ¢on- dition, This would be a grand combination of revenge and self-gratification. Bertha could be made to bend to his will, through tho suffering he intended to inflict upon the mo’ her. All this time his intended victims speculated on their gloomy future. Every advantage open to them, under various possible circumstances, was thoroughly reasoned upon then. They had observed Carajal going his rounds, inspecting the slain, and had listened to his address to his miscreant followers. Now, they could only hope and wait. But there were others who had listened also. Two pallid-faced, but determined men, who, with utter disregard for their wounds or their safety, crawled along the borders of the bandit camp. Pecan Pete and Nueces Ned had decided to play a game on the Greasers, which they hoped would greatly demoralize them—much more than had the sudden and unexpected discovery of their slain comrades, The shriek of Bertha had greatly affected the brave scouts. It was to them a terrible thing, even to think, of, for a helpless female to be in the power of such base and brutal miscreants, even for a short il be satisfied only when every bandit concerned in the dastard deed lay low in death—grew more intense each instant as they watched. The two scouts gripped their weapons, and that was all they could do at thattime. Indeed, there seemed no possible opening for them to do ly to be any chance, but for all that they set their minds at work, meanwhile conversing in low whispers. If Little Lariat and Jose Sanchez had been with them, there would have been no hesitation. All would have charged into the midst of the camp, against four times their number; braving almost certain death, rather than be pempstee any longer to witness the agony of that lovely and helpless girl. As it was, the pair lay, silent and watchful of every movement among the bandits. They witnessed the changing of the mustangs, the posting of the guard, and the gradual drop- ping off, one after another, of the cigarette- smokers into slumber. At length a]l slept, exceyt the chief and those acting as sentinels, there being but two of the latter; and Carajal himself soon closed his eyes. Not until then, cid Ned and Pete commence operaticns, They decided that the scntinels must be slain, before anything: clse cculd he attempted. They knew that it would be madness for them to enter the camp, and make an effort to rescue the captives. The outlaws, or some of them might be awakened by their approach; or, even did ther eet inside the inclosure, the ladies, who might have fallen into a semi-somnolent state, might cry out upon being aroused—thus alarming the camp, and dooming the rescuers, and themselves as well, to death. Having thus concluded, our friends fixed upon a plan of operations that promised success. They had noticed the points where the two sentries had been posted, and both at once pro- ceeded to crawl together to the thicket, on the border of which the first of the guards stocd, idly star-gazing, as he puffed his shuck cigarette. The time had come. The greatest caution was necessary, but the scouts were men who not only knew the impor- tance of this, but the various and skillful ways to practice it, amid the disadvantages under which they acted. Nueces Ned knew that his wound was liable to break out afresh and bleed profusely, per- haps cause him to become so weak and faint that he would be helpless, and thus become an easy victim to the outlaws; but he hesitated not, for he felt that his life was as nothing, when compared with the liberty, or the present sufferings, of the captives. Never had the young scout gazed upon a fe- male face and form that had so captivated him | as had Bertha Benton. | time, and though she might have good grounds | for hope of rescue, They had given no thought to their own con- dition, had paid no attention to their wounds, crushing down the pain they felt, which was es- pecially torturing upon their first making the attempt to crawl past through the bushes; and His whole being had been thrilled, even by viewing the maiden from his hiding-place, whic was some distance from her position, But there was now no time for Ned to attempt. analyzing his new end strange emotions. All he did know was, the feeling that he had | looked upon one, who, even before he had spoken they had conquered, as far a8 was possible, their | weakness, gaining a good position finally, from which they could inspect the camp of the out- laws, and that at a favorable time. No scene more calculated to enlist the ser- vices, and govern the sympathies of an observer, was ever witnessed, than that presented by the | lovely golden-haired maiden; her wavy tresses nearly vailing her bent form, ber face pallid as | death, and stamped with an expression of suffer- ing, that was torturing to one not positively iron-hearted to look upon. This beautiful girl, in such terrible anguish, with an awful fate threatening her, kneeling by | the side of her seemingly dead mother, with a 1orde of crime-stained outlaws ranged on all | sides—this was the tableau which so affected the | two Texans, as they first gazed from their covert — affected them so much that they were com- pelled to turn their heads, and came near be- traying their presence, in their efforts to sup- | press groans of sympathy. Fires were then kindled in the bed | But, after the first rush of this and kindred feelings that racked their hearts, their teeth closed together, and slowly ground, as their eyes | as strong as his desire to free the captive. | seemed to give him double strength. with her, or met her face to face, could rule his destiny; one who was, or who would be. did a gracious Heaven permit, more than all others— more than all the world to him! Such were the young man’s thoughts, but ac- tion was the order of the hour. His whole mind and strength must be strained to accomplish the rescue of the ladies, and that without entertaining a hope—so superior a being did Bertha Benton appear in his eyes— of ever being more to her than he then was. As to Pecan Pete, bis emotions compared not with those of his pard; although his grand aim was, also, the rescue of the women at all haz- ards. His hatred of the Greasers was perhaps This As stealthily as young Apaches on their first war-path, our two friends crawled toward the still sentinel, who was doubtless then thinking of his Dulcinea, beyond the Rio Bravo. It was impossible to reach a position near enough for their purpose, by crawling within the thicket; consequently the two Texans stole clear of the bushes at different points, each stealing along close to the margin of the thicket, | one on each side. flashed in the intensity of their hatred for the | cowardly abductors of the fair girl before them; | and their thirst for revenge—revenge, that could Soon they reached points, beyond which they knew it would be madness to pass. \Then both sprung upon the Greaser, so quickly and unex- tedly, that he was terrified to speechlessness ; and, before he recovered, Pete’s sombrero was stuffed into his mouth, while the hand of the old
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scout clutched his throat, and the knife of Nue- ces Ned was driven deep into his breast! There was no outcry from the death-stricken bandit, as it was impossible for him to make any sound, except a gurgling one, which could be heard but a few paces distant. For a short time, the guard struggled con- vulsively in a spasmodic manner, writhing in the death-agony, and held firmly by the desper- ate Texans, whose lives depended upon their preventing his making any sound. Then, limp the shade of the mesquites. Then the two scouts, without a word to each other, crept to the post of the remaining senti- nel; and, in not more than fifteen minutes after starting upon their perilous mission, Pecan Pete and Nueces Ned were masters of the situation— the two guards being dead, and the bandit horde wrapped in slumber before them, uncon- scious of danger. i the daring pair had much yet to accom- plish. CHAPTER XIII. BUT HALF ACCOMPLISHED. JuST south of the clear space, in the middle of which was the bandit camp, grew an unusually large mesquite tree, and beneath this the Texans drew the slain sentinels. This done, they has- tened away, but soon returned, dragging an- other dead Mexican. This last was one of the advance party of bandits, who had been shot by Little Lariat, when the young ranchero first came upon the outlaws in the gully. One by one, Pete and Ned dragged the slain up to the huge mesquite tree. t was laborious work for the two wounded men, but they had an end in view. In a little time, twelve Greaser corpses hung, ‘suspended by their necks, from the limbs of the mesquite, and slowly swaying. But the Texans stopped not with that, for light was needed to fully reveal the horrible bur- dens of the bending mesquite. Quickly they gathered a mass of dead limbs and twigs, setting fire to them, and then steal- ing to the shades, intending to pass around to the opposite side of the camp, thus being better posted for the Bw rescue, Regaining their carbines, which they had secreted in a thicket, the two daring scouts breathed more! freely as they proceeded along the line of bushes, to gain a position on the north side of the ban- adit ane But they were destined to be disappointed in this attempt; for, not twenty paces had they proceeded—they being hidden from the camp— when a yell of horror and superstitious terror shot through the night air, Instantly Pete and Ned darted into the line of , bushes, and gazed out at the Greasers, At the moment the yell sounded, the two Tex- | ans felt that their work had been fruitless; but | they still hoped for some favorable opening, which would enable them to rescue the cap- tives. When they gained a view of the camp, every bandit had sprung from his blanket, and ail stood gazing in speechless dread at the twelve | circling corpses, the Glassy eyes of which were ' terribly distinct by the blaze of the fire. It was, indeed, a horrible sight! Only for a moment, however, did the outlaws | thus stand. Then they rushed madly in every direction, many falling to the earth, and over and upon each other, in their desperate efforts to escape from a sight that chilled the very blood in their veins. Capitan Carajal, saw at once that his band bdo demoralized, and that enemies were at nd. ' With a wild bound, he sprung over the wall of saddles, caught up the shrieking Bertha, tear- ing her from her grasp upon her mother, and speeding away down the bed of the wash-out. It had not been necessary for him to gag his fair captive; for, with the loud screams she ut- and lifeless, they laid him upor the sward, in tered when she found herself in the embrace of | the merciless Carajal, went out all conscious- ness. Bertha Benton lay, rk oo to all appear- ance dead, in the arms of her abductor; her face as ghastly as that of a corpse. Neither Ned nor Pete observed this act of the outlaw chief, for the latter accomplished his urpose when his followers were in such a mad mob, struggling together; and the attention of the Texans was just then called to their rear, by the rapid clattering of hoofs. A moment after, to the ape and 13 of the scouts, they saw Little at and Jose — galloping at headlong speed toward em. + i 5 2 ae : c ‘i Little Lariat, With loud cheers, Ned and Pete sprung from the mesquites, and then the ‘*blue whistlers” from the carbines of the quartette tore through the massed Mexicans. The scene that followed was simply indescribable. Bandits fell, dead.and dying, their yells min- gling with the rattle of revolvers, as the four assailants dashed upon those who fled in wild disorder. One, however, sprung over the bar- rier of saddles, with the evident intention of slaying the captives. But one of these re- mained—poor Mrs. Benton, who had again be- come insensible Straight, as if he knew the exact place where his dear ones were, Gashed Little Lariat, just catching a view of his mother’s pale face and outstretched form as the swarthy assassin poised his knife for the fatal blow. But the steel was not buried in the poor woman’s breast, for at that instant a bullet from the revolver of the bag ranchero pierced the bandit’s brain, and e fell dead across the form of his intended victim. The next moment Bert Benton sprung from his horse and leaped into the inclosure, catching up the senseless form of his mother in his arms, Both Ned and Pete, revolvers in hand, rushed to the side of the wall of saddles and plunder, their eyes shooting glances in all directions. Jose Sanchez joined them almost immediately. The four friends gazed from one to another. By this time not a Mexican was to be seen, except the dead and dying, more than half of the band being struck by the bullets of the Texans, All the survivors had vanished. Where was Bertha Benton? The eyes of each put the question, Capitan Carajal was not among the dead or wounded. Little Lariat was the first to gain his speech, but his voice sounded strange and unnatural: ‘* Pards, my sister is not here. Those demons have carried her away. For God’s sake, save her from Carajal! I cannot leave my mother, unless one of you will remain with her.” ‘‘ Ned’s too bad hurted ter go, Let him stay, an’ le’s we~’uns git lively!” So sung out Pecan Pete. oo Pete and Jose were eager to go in pur- suit. Mrs. Benton, however, partially revived. She opened her eyes at length in a dazed state, but Was soon as astonished as she was rejoiced at finding herself in the arms of her son, and at recognizing Jose and a Texan, who was un- doubtedly a friend. The faces of all expressed mingled sympathy and concern. At last the poor woman seemed to recall the last harrowing scene that had met her appalled ge previous to her sinking into insensibility. t seemed to bring with it an anguish that was harrowing, for she ere free from the sup- ort of Little Lariat, standing erect and raising er arms, as she cried out, in a wild voice, in great excitement: ° “Oh, Bertha! my darling Bertha! Oh, my son, fly to her rescue! Capitan Carajal has her. I remember all now. She is lost!” Almost insane with grief poor Mrs. Benton appeared, and her touching appeal was more than Pete or Jose could bear, Both sprung to- ward the mesquites and disappeared in the shades, regardless of the calls of Little Lariat, who was frantic to go in search of his sister, The youth wished Pecan Pete to remain with his mother, and allow him to go on the trail of the bandit chief. Thus, amid the dead and wounded outlaws, were the mother and son left; while the ¢: rpses swaying from the limbs of the mesquite tree, added to the horrors of the illumined scene, Suddenly Mrs. Benton seemed to realize that she was hindering the rescue of her daughter. She felt that Bert should be also searching for noe and she called out, as excitedly as be- ore: “Go, my son! Go, and save your sister, if possible! “You can secrete me in a thicket, or I will ride one of the bandits’ horses, accompany- ing you as far as the road. Then I'll gallop to Rio Grande City for help. Our Bertha must be saved, or I shall go mad! ¢ a Why, oh why, in the name of justice and merey, are such grief and misery hurled upon us ‘Mother, I cannot trust you to go alone, but I shall hecome insane myself df i remain in- active. Let me saddle a horse for you. Come!” Leading his own mustang, the youth and his mother, hand in hand, proceeded hastily toward the staked animals of the bandits. In a short space of time, Mrs. Benton was mounted upon a gentle horse; and, springing into his saddle, Lit- ‘ sy as tle Lariat and his mother urged their beasts west, toward a curve of the Government road.” Both were nearly wild. with mental torture and anxiety in regard to j:oor Bertha. Before reaching the road, however, they were rejoiced at hearing the clatter of hoofs, for they felt assured that some of the rancheros, who had seen the glare of their burning home, had hastened to the same, and then down the river in hopes of intercepting’ the marauders, Nor were they x strom, Bong A dozen or more infuriated Texans gallo down the road, all madly eager to annihilate | the detested Greasers; and, when they were in- formed that Miss Benton had been carried off by Capitan Carajal, they were more furious still, and determined to follow the fugitive out- laws even into Mexico, a Little Lariat induced one of the party, who had lamed his horse, to escort Mrs. Mnton to Rio Grande City; and, after an affecting fare- well, mother and son parted. The latter ad- vised the division of the ranchero into pairs, and the scouring of the chaparrals up and down the river. His advice was followed. Signals were agreed upon, that would bring help to any who might meet with the fleeing bandits, who, it seemed reasonable to presume, would all unite near the river. Little Lariat, however, went in search of his sister alone, hoping he would meet with some of his pards, who would have gained some infor- mation, slight though it might be, of poor Bertha and her cowardly abductor, Capitan Carajal. i CHAPTER XIV. NUECES NED NERVED TO THE FIGHT. FILLED with fiendish triumph, the bandit chief rushed rapidly down the wash-out, with the senseless form of his fair captive clasped to his breast. vee he was far from being satisfied as to his safety. The sounds of fire-arms, which followed his hasty flight, decided him that either he had been wrong in supposing the Texans to be few in number, or else that others had been near the camp, and had sped to the assistance of the assail- ing party. He felt, however, that for a brief space of time he would be free from pursuit; and he determined to make good use of that time. As for his band, they were utterly, and hope- lessly demoralized. But, now that Carajal had gained possession of Bertha Benton, he cared little what became of his followers, He hoped that Little Lariat and his pards were not of the party who had attacked his camp; but he did not believe the young ran- chero was present, for had he been, the youth would have.been made reckless by the sight of his mother and sister in such peril, and would have endeavored to rescue them at once by a bold dash, : Had he believed that Bert Benton, and those who had been with bim at the fight with his ad- vance »arty—all of whem had been slain—were now among the rescuers, Capitan Carajal would have been less confident of being able to cross the Rio Grande than he was, The outlaw leader had been so astounded and excited at the time of the alarm,and had run with such rapidity with his fair burden, that he was now much exhausted, and out of breath. He was obliged, therefore, to halt and rest. . The moon was how high in the heavens, and at some points lighted up the great gully to its bed; but, as the wash-out was as winding as the t.ail of a serpent, there were sections where but one bank of the gully was revealed by Dame Luna, consequently, for all Carajal knew to the contrary, pursuers might be quite near him, He listened intently, still retaining the sense- less maiden in his arms; but he ceuld ‘hear noth- meewert the sounds frem the cemp., € could not believe that all his followers had been slain, and it was pretty certain that those who escaped would naturally rush toward the river; some, perhaps, taking the very gully in which he was. If this were the case, the hendit chief knew that his life would be in great Cenger, Indeed, he would just as scon meet a Texan foe as one of his own men at the present time; for, his fol- lowers who had escaped death—if there were any such—would hove the most bitter enmity toward him for having deserted them in their great danger, after leading them into the ene- mies’ country to suit his own ends. . Not only this, but they would also hete, with revengeful feelings, the maiden who had been the means of bringing disaster and death upon
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“ ia eo the band. Carajal had no doubt that he would | ~ be forced to fight for Bertha’s life, as well as for his own. He was, therefore, in no amiable frame of mind. In fact, he became much frightened, and started up suddenly, and rushed on down the | bed of the gully, which became deeper and wider as he went, At places there were por- tions of earth which had, during storms, fallen from either bank; large portions of the bushes | still growing on the land slides, the fall not | having parted the upper sward, or compact net- } work of roots. In a case of necessity, one of these detached portions of the upper bank might afford covert for one who wished tc evade pursuers; a fact which Carajal took note of at once. Little did he dream, however, that he would soon regret not having darted into the one he had last pass- ed. But such was the fact. He soon detected the rapid approach of a human being behind him. It was now too late for him to run back to the last friendly land- slide; and he saw that he would not have time to gain the next, before the pursuer, if such he was, would appeararound the bend behind him, | Believing, and with good reason, that all in his | rear were foes, Carajal made up his mind to | pon! this man—if there was but one—to the eath, He knew that the report of his revolver would | ide many who were eager for his life, he could | tsar use his knife only. Hardly had he jerked his blade from the scab- bard, when, around the bend of the wash-out, shot one of his own band. The Greaser was the very picture of terror. His eyes were staring, and starting from their sockets, while he constantly glanced over his shoulder, in the greatest apprehension. This gave the bandit chief great anxiety. jHe hoped that the new-comer might not show signs of enmity, but he was disappointed. The fugitive held his long knife in hand, and cried out, as he came near: ; ‘“Curses on Capitan Carajal! Curses on the senorita! I will split their hearts!” | Terrible was the sight of the maddened bandit. ‘ | He sprung headlong toward his chief, who stood ready to meet him; but just as they were : about to clash knives, the furious outlaw sprung | aside and to the spot where lay the unconscious | Bertha Benton. “‘ Carajo!” he yelled, as his knife gleamed | over her breast; ‘‘I will split her heart!” But Le mag 9 geo was the bound of Carajal. Clutching his rebellious follower by the long black hair, he plunged his knife through bone and flesh! A fierce curse and groan, then a convulsive shudder, and all wasover. |. hia. his blade upon the clothing of his vic- tim, the bandit chief again caught up Bertha in his arms, and with a wild and hunted look up the gully, sped down the wash-out as though the ends were in pursuit. . ’ And it seemed as though this was in reality the case; for, hardly had Capitan Carajal pass- ed around the next turn, when two more of his band dashed around the curve, where their com- rade had ap) previously. These two seem- ed more furious than frightened, when they dis- covered the corpse of their comrade. ey lingered but a moment to examine it, and then ed frantically on, cursing desperately. - Soon they came in sight of their treacherous captain, who had led so many of their number to death, and then deserted them, They were now persuaded that Carajal cared only for himself and had sacrificed many lives to gain his own base and selfish ends, The vengeful yells of the eursuers now warned him that he must again fight for life, and for the life of his faircaptive; this time having two of his own men to battle with. But at this moment a new actor appeared upon the scene. “Tt was Nueces Ned! Some distance the young scout gained from the abrupt bend inthe gully before he could stop, as he was running very fast. When he did halt, the strange scene that met his view amazed him. Not only did he sec the two Greasers whom he had been pursuing, but his gaze lighted upon the gold-crowned head of Bertha Benton, hanging over the arm of the bandit chief! The heart of the young Texan bounded to his throat. - Yet Ned realized that he had much to ac- lish before he could hope to rescue the | ‘maiden—much more than it seemed possible for in his weakened state, to overcome. But he hesitated not. Little Lariat. He was not only astonished, but greatly re- | joiced, as he, after a moment, interpreted the true position of affairs. It was strange, nevertheless true, that the two outlaws were now rushing upon their chief with murderous intent. Nueces Ned did not stop to reason upon this to him most unaccountable state of affairs; but dashed on, knowing that he had a better chance to succeed than he had hoped, through the en- mity which now existed between Capitan Cara- jal and his men. But the latter also saw, and recognized the fact that this lone Texan would be more difficult to deal with than half a dozen of his terrified and demoralized followers. The cunning villain took the only course open to him to give him the slightest hope of escape. He raised his arm, and pointing up the gully, yelled fiercely, and in a commanding voice: “Turn quickly, or the Gringo will run his ——— your backs! Look, he comes like a mad ull! Such was the influence of his voice and man- ner that both the outlaws turned, oaths of min- gled surprise and fury bursting from their lips, as they beheld the on-rushing Texan. . At this very favorable turn of affairs, when a moment aoe ate there seemed not the slight- est hope of his escaping with his long-coveted prize, Carajal turned, and ran down the bed of the wash-out, continuing his headlong flight toward the Rio Grande! For a moment the two bandits appeared so bewildered that they were unable to act; but one of them quickly cast a glance backward, thus discovering the flight of his chief. This perfidious act increased tenfold the hatred that hadruled them, and, with grating teeth and beast-like snarl, one of the outlaws bounded in ursuit of his. captain, leaving the other as if rozen in his tracks. But had the Mexican who remained entertain- ed the thought of joining his comrade in the pursuit of Carajal, his momentary delay ren- dered it impossible to do so; indeed, the first Greaser had but just escaped the vengeful ueces Ned, who now darted down the gully with great speed. eé young man could have jerked his revol- ver and killed the pursuer of Carajal, but something told him not to do this, he feeling that to allow the Mexican to pursue the chief bet tend toward the rescue of Bertha by him- self. So sudden had been the discovery of the strange scene as he rushed around the curve, and so unexpected the sight of Bertha senseless, in the arms of her captor, that Ned had not drawn his revolver. e therefore rushed upon the remaining Greaser with knife in hand, so impetuously that both he and the bandit were overthrown, rolling in a deadly embrace on the bed of the wash-out. Before closing in with the miscreant, however the scout saw Carajal speed from view aroun a turn in the gully, the golden hair of Bertha flying wildly over his shoulder, and his pur- suer, knife in hand, clese upon him. This flitting sight nerved Nueces Ned for the conflict with his sinewy adversary, for he fear- ed the maiden, in whom he felt so deep an in- terest, would be foully murdered or would meet -a worse fate at the hands of the maddened mis- creant who pursued his chief to slay him. In‘any event, Bertha Benton was in danger of being borne away from his sight forever, to a fearful fate, even did she escape death! a CHAPTER XV. A FRUITLESS QUEST. LittLeE Lariat saw his mother, escorted by the ranchero, start up the road toward Rio Grande City. He then dashed into the chapar- ral, his heart tortured by the possible fate of his darling sister, The sound of a rifle-shot, followed by a shriek, soon caused him to halt. Then, with a groan of anguish, he rushed frantically through the thickets, aiming to strike the road as near ine peint whence the report proceeded as pos- e. _It must be, the youth thought, that some fugi- tive bandit had discovered the ranchero, fired at him and possibly had slain bis mother. There were, he knew, none of the Texans who had ridden to his assistance aS near the scene of danger as he was, consequently no help could be ex from them. Quickly he uncoiled from his waist his trusty lasso, and as he ran pans’ the same for casting. 5 re long Little Lariat caught sight of what caused him to bring his lasso into immediate use, : . The first object that met his view was his mo- ther, leaning against her horse for support— ~ bg evidently been thrown from the animal. rs. her starting eyes fixed upon a point to which her son at once darted a glance. There he saw the ranchero who had acted as his mother’s escort lying upon the road, stunned, if not dead, and his head bleeding profusely. But. it did not seem that his assailant believed him | dead, for a most brutal-looking Mexican be- strode him, and with gleaming teeth and exult- ant curses, raised his knife to plunge the blade into his victim’s heart. But, like a flash of light, the lasso of Little Lariat hissed through the air, the noose encir- cling the neck of the assassin. One more twitch brought the Greaser over backward in the dust of the road, his knife flying from his grasp. The next instant Little Lariat’s bowie was plunged into the bandit’s breast, and the youth sprung to the side ef his mother, who was speechless from her various and violent emotions. “Thank Heaven!” said the boy, ‘‘you are again saved. What should I have—” At that moment a piercing cry broke from Mrs. Benton, and her son fell to the earth at her feet; she herself being caught by the bandit who had sprung from the chaparral, and felled the young ranchero by a blow from his escopeta. Just then, however, a wild yell came from down the road, and some of the rancheros, who had heard the shot, rushed toward the scene. Had they not thus Ns ler ges appeared, Little Lariat would have been at once slain by the Greaser; but the latter, now perceiving that he had not a moment to spare, caught up Mrs. Benton and darted back into the thickets, to- ward the Rio Grande—the Texans not daring to shoot, for fear of killing his captive. Some little distance were they from the scene when the outlaw disappeared in the chaparral that bordered the road; consequently the villain- ous abductor had sufficient time to penetrate beyond the hearing of the pursuers, as he stole through the thorny shrubbery. One of the Texans remained with Little Lariat, who proved to be only stunned, the others plunging into the mesquites in search of the miscreant who had carried away his mother. However, they had not the slightest success; for direct by a path that was well known to kim yee the Greaser with the unconscious werman. uckily for her, he was suddenly brought to a halt by little Jose Sanchez, who, while wander- ing in search of Bertha, discovered the outlaw with Mrs. Benton in hisarms. The youth was not alittle surprised and mystified, for he had left the: mother of Little Lariat but recently safe in the bandit camp, only the dead and wounded around her and her son. Jose had become somewhat accustomed to startling surprises, so he lost no time in wender, but drew his knife, and mene. from the bushes, sprung upon the ruffian, stabbing him to tke heart. But, as it was impossible for the boy to lift and carry Mrs. Benton, he started toward the road for assistance, believirg that the woman he had rescued would be perfectly safe where he had left her. Then it was that the Mexican youth had the circumstances connected with the recapture of Mrs. Benton told him by the ranchero who had remained in charge of Little Lariat; learnin then, for the first time, that his young pard h been knocked senseless, narrowly escaping death. The latter was now himself again, and the trio , taking with them a canteen of water to revive Mrs, Benton. _ Jose had left the side of the senseless woman but a moment or two, when Pecan Pete stole up the chaparral path stealthily, having heard the sounds made by the boy’s movements. The character of the commotion was decided upon quickly by a man of the old scout’s experience. Pete had exerted himself greatly, employing his keen senses and knowledge of the chaparrals, without having obtained the slightest clew as to the whereabouts of Carajal and his beautiful captive. ut, as the suspicious sounds, caused by the Mexican youth’s slaying the abductor of Mrs. Benton broke upon kis ear,-Pecan Pete believed that he had at last, by accident, detected the — of the bandit chief. Carajal had evi- ently been in a conflict with some of his: pur- suers, whom he had slain, or else they had killed him—which Pete could not determine. Upen advancing further, and discovering within a patch of moonlight, a portion of a wo- man’s dress, the old scout felt positive that he had been correct in his conelusion. The silence that everywhere reigned was, however, particularly impressive. It was sug- enton’s face was pale and horror-stricken, , . 4
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1 Little Lariat. gestive of danger, and death as well; therefore directly into the arms of the desperate and Pete crawled forward with great caution. vengeful Greaser, whose glittering knife circled He was, for him, terribly excited; for he | in the air, preparatory to being plunged into his feared that Bertha Benton lay dead not far | heart. from him. He had not the slightest suspicion Quick as a flash, Ned caught the wrist of the that her mother had been captured a second | outlaw, preventing the latter from using his | time. knife; but the young scout found that his op- Thus reasoning, and believing there was no a had been equally successful, his own danger. of a lurker springing upon him—al- | hand being hampered in the same manner by | though he was prepared, having knife in hand— | the tight grip of the desperate ruffian. Pecan Pete at once clasped Mrs. Benton in his Into each other’s eyes, as they struggled, the | arms, and then springing erect, he lifted her in- | two glared, face to face; now one, now the to the clear moonlight. | other holding the advantageous position. Both “Sufferin’ Moses!” came from the old man’s | were obliged to cease all exertion at times, and lips, in the utmost amazement. | await, panting, a return of strength. Indeed, he came near dropping the senseless Nueces Ned at length discovered that the scarf woman; so dumfounded was he, to find in his | about his wound had become loosened, and that arms one whom he had left far away in the | he was again bleeding. Unless by some extra- bandit camp, in the care of her son, Little La- | ordinary dexterity, he at once gained the vic- riat. es” he was lost, and Bertha as well. ‘Dang my ole heart, ef things ain’t sorter e concentrated all his mind and strength in gittin’ on the whirl-mix all ‘roun’! What, in | the desperate struggle; but, as the thought flash- thunderation, hes bin rung in on ther p’o- | ed through his mind that perhaps Capitan Cara- gramme? Whar, in—” jal was speeding on with his captive to where it Pete’s soliloquy was here broken in upon by | would be impossible to find him, the young man | the approach of Little Lariat, Jose, and the | became doubly desperate. The Mexican was at yanchero who had remained in the road with | that time astride of him, but Ned braced his feet the former. upon the earth, doubled inward, and succeeded “Spit music, er I'll shoot!” yelled the old | in hurling him over his head: the bandit whirl- scout, threateningly. ‘‘ Who air yer, any ole | ing clear over, and striking upon his back with how?’ great violence. ‘‘ Friends!” was Jose’s response. ‘‘Is that| A heavy groan burst from the outlaw, his you, Pete?” hold upon the wrist of the young Texan was ‘Tm a dang sight more sure hit air me, then | broken, and the next moment the latter, with I air bout some things what’s bin goin’ on | some difficulty, got upon hands and knees, *roun’ hyer ter-night. crawled beside his antagonist, and buried his ‘How, in thunderation, kim Marm Benton | bowie in his breast. ter be layin’ in ther chap’rel? Leetle Lariat, Nueces Ned, with great beads of perspiration kin yeou ‘splain things?” standing upon his brow, his form convulsed by ‘First, tell me, have you any tidings of my pasate unting, struggled to his feet, and stag- sister?” gered down the great gully, his blood-dripping ‘‘Nary a tide! An’ I’m consarnedly a wor- | knife still in his hand, ritated bout yer marm. She air completely out One quick glance ahead, and he saw that Car- © sense. Somebuddy take her, won’t yer? I | ajal, with his fair burden, and the other bandit ain’t used ter kaliker-kivered female weemin.” | as well, had all disappeared. The unfortunate lady was soon restored to Our young friend halted a moment, to adjust consciousness, and her joy was great at finding | and tighten the sash about his wounded thigh; her boy again with her; but soon she was utter- | then, with an almost despairing groan, he pro- ing loud wails for her daughter, and all decided | ceeded onward. that it would be the best move to proceed to Soon he reached the next curve of the gully, the bank of the river. The men reasoned, that | and for an instant paused; for he saw a few nossibly the bandit chief had fled at once to the | yards ahead of him, an outstretched human io Grande, and might have found some means | form. of crossing it; an attempt which, though dan- Hastening forward, Ned recognized the com- gerous in the extreme, he would hazard, rather | rade of the bandit who's life his bowie had end- than be captured, or be shot down by the pur- | ed. Thisswarthy marauder had also met death suing Texans. in the same manner; and, as the scout knew, by pergp arn as it was but a short distance, | his own chief, Capitan Carajal. all set out; Mrs. Benton insisting upon accom- This was strange and puzzling to Ned, but he panying the party, and vowing she would not be | lost no time in speculating upon it. On he separated again from Bert, her only remaining | hastened, down the bed of the wash-out, the child, sides of which now loomed some fifty feet above Little hope had any one among them of ever | his head, and were insurmountable. seeing the fair Bertha on the Texan side of the} This fact gave the young Texan hope. river. Carajal could not escape him, unless he plung- All wondered greatly where Nueces Ned had | ed into the river; and such a rm | would be disappeared to, and the rancheros as well; as | almost certain death to him, as well as to Ber- they could detect no sounds that would indicate | tha. they were in the vicinity. On went Nueces Ned, the gully becomin They little dreamed that the wounded Ned | deeper and deeper, and its bed more steep, an had been more fortunate than any of them, as | at times quite dark; but the keen eyes of the he had been successful in tracing the bandit | sworn rescuer scanned well his surroundings, chief, and had caught sight of Bertha Benton in | making sure that the captor of Bertha did not the arms of the miscreant marauder, besides | conceal himself in some cleft of the clay walls overtaking others of the band. until he _— him. , Long the time seemed to Ned, but at length he saw straight ahead, through the mouth of the gully. the broad silvery waters of the Rio CHAPTER XVu dg om bem the: young trailer sa the ground ahead, where wash-out and river DOWN TO THEIR DEATH. a met, but those he sou cht were not to be seen. Nurcrs NED was in no fitting condition to Wildly, and nearly in despair, he rushed down engage in a hand-to-hand fight with the bandit, | the bed of the great gully. whom he rushed upon so furiously as to cause | Soon he stood by the surging waters, when a both himself and the swarthy miscreant to fall, | sight met his view that almost took his breath and roll over in a struggle for life or death, | away. upon the bed of the great gully. Could he be dreaming? But he had seen the corpse-like face and the Not so; for, plainly, he saw in the middle of golden hair of Bertha Benton, upon the arm of | the river an unwieldy dug-out, or log canoe, Carajal, and he felt that the destiny of the | breaking the silvery waters; and, in that frail maiden depended upon him alone. __ | eraft, sat Capitan Carajal, plying a paddle, Too terrible to think of would be her fate, did | while reclining at the stern lay his still uncon- the bandit chief gain the Mexican side of the | scious captive, Rio Grande with his intended victim. This Ned The bandit chief was heading his boat for the well knew. mouth of a wash-out on the Mexican side of the The sight of Bertha, in the hands of such a | river; and a quick, sweeping glance showed to brutal wretch, nerved the young Texan to al- ! Ned that, at that particular portion of the river, most superhuman effort. There were none of | both banks were seamed, or cut from the upper his friends to come to his assistance, and the | level, nearly a hundred feet high, to the water lives of three Mexicans stood between him and | level, by gullies or wash-outs. the rescue of the beautiful sister of Little La-| The sight of the girl and her captor, appar- riat. ently about to slip from him forever, almost Yet, he was not hopeless of success, drove Ned wild; and a taunting laugh and de- He , however, that he must now rush ' risive yell from Carajal, who perceived the ee , . : sit ee Texan on the bank, rendered him frantic with fury. But Nueces Ned was not one to remain in- | active. He had sworn to rescue Bertha Benton, and he had not the remotest idea of breaking that oath, although it now seemed impossible for him to keep it. Quickly inspecting the right bank of the great gully, where it formed the bank of the Rio Grande, or where bank and bank joined, the young scout gave a wild cry of joy. He saw that it was possible to surmount this benk, and he rushed forward, and clambered up the same, being at times forced to hack the hard clay with his knife, to form niches for his hands and feet. He had formed a plan, which he de- termined to carry out, should he find matters as he hoped further be the river. After a long and laborious continued climb- ing, Ned reached the top of the high bank; but he made no pause, except to dart a glance down over the silvery river. Capitan Carajal was three-fourths of the way over the stream, afar below his pursuer, in the great chasm of the Rio Grande. Ned rushed through the chaparral for several hundred yards, when he came to another gully, the bank of which he saw was possible of de- scent; although the attempt would be danger: ous, especially in his weakened state. But the Texan hesitated not, and soon stood once more by the waters of the river. Fortune favored him, for a drift-log had be- come caught on a sand-bar near the bank, and, without a moment’s hesitation, he lunged into the river, throwing himself fotwerd., and crawl- ing over the treacherous quicksands to the log. By the assistance of this, he started to cross the river, aiming to land at the mouth of a gully, above that to which Carajal was heading, but far below the point from which he himself had started. hg Was necessary, owing to the swift cur- rent. Ned soon gained a quarter of the distance across the broad river, and gazed down the sil- very breast of the Bravo, at the boat of Carajal, as it touched the bank, and the bandit chief sprung ashore, with Bertha Benton in his arms. This was at the mouth of another gully, or im- mense seam in the towering wall of clay, which by wind and wash of rains, was cut and carved into a thousand weird shapes, up and down its sides, At the point where the outlaw landed, the bank high Baie bis head actually overhung the river; the earth having crumbled and fallen into the stream, afar up from the surface of the rolling waters. The prospect was not encouraging. Ned swam with greater speed, feeling revived by the cool waters; for he believed the Mexi- can would at once rush up the wash-out, and es- cape afar inland from the river, amid the chap- arrals, with his captive. - The plan of the young scout was to land at the next gully above that in which Capitan Carajal was, rush be the same, and dash across to cut off the retreat of the bandit and thus res- cue Bertha. Burdened as the abductor was, this appeared possible. As Rea gazed at Carajal, he heard the wretch yell defiantly and exultantly; but he knew the nandit was not looking toward him, being with- out doubt unaware of his presence in the river, or he would not thus hnger, The gaze of the outlaw chief, as he had yelled, was directed over the Rio Grande to the top of the north bank; and, turning his eyes in that direction, Ned saw two groups of human beings, one on each side of the great gully, down which Carajal had es- caped. ar friend knew those on the west side of the wash-out, to be Little Lariat, Jose Sanchez, Mrs. Benton, and a ranchero. Those on the east side were the Texans, who had ridden from Rio Grande City to pursue the bandits. All were gesticulating wildly to each other, Again Ned gazed over to the Mexican side. Carajal and his captive had disappeared in the dark depths of the gully, and the young Texan, drawing himself upon the log, free from the water to his waist, gave 4 far-sounding yell, at the same time waving his hands in the air, His yell was heard, and he was discovered by the almost frantic rancheros, who cheered him on lustily. : Evidently they believed he would rescue Ber- tha, which they Were powerless to do. Nueces Ned redoubled his exertions, and soon neared the south bank, when, to his astonish- ment, he again beheld Carajal, at the mouth of the gully, down-stream. It was plain that the outlaw believed him- | s
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li | Little Lariat. self secure from pursuit, and could not resist the the great chasm from the high temptation to again taunt the Texans by utter- | round of cheers that caused Bertha to sit up in ing yells of derision and triumph. Doubtless he had left Bertha, some distance within the gully. Ned now made great efforts to reach the, bank. His first wish was to avoid being discovered hy the bandit chief. The young scout swam vith hope to brace him. Again he glanced at Carajal, and saw the lat- ter point a pistol, snapping the weapon again and again. At last one chamber exploded. Ned believed this to be a signal to some of the band on the Mexican side of the river. He now sprung on shore and into the gully without be~ ing seen by Carajal. p the wash-out he madly rushed. It seemed for miles, although it was but three hundred yards, before he reached a point at which the bank could be climbed. Soon he was upon the level, among sparse mesquites and clumps of cacti, rushing east to find the gully in which he hoped to discover Bertha Benton. But he was obliged to crouch low and hide, for he heard the sound of hoofs near at hand. Peering from his covert, he saw three brutal- looking isienbe gallop toward the river-bank, aiming to strike the same at the junction of the gully and the river where Capitan Carajal had landed. 7 These Greasers were evidently bandits, drawn by the report of their chief's pistol, They saw the group of Texans on the opposite | bank, and yelled derisively. This sight, however, would distract their at- tention from Carajal, who was far below them. Thus reasoned Ned. Indeed, he knew the out- laws could not see their leader, on account of the overhanging bank. As Ned thought of this, and saw the three riders gallop recklessly up to the very edge of the bank he freer yoan | The next moment, horses and riders shot downward, and horrible shrieks filled the air! Again the scout shuddered. He then rushed forward. , Soon he saw a break in the ground ahead of um. His heart leaped with joy, but that joy was increased ten-fold, as he saw slowly rising from the break in the earth, the pale face and golden hair of Bertha Benton. Nueces Ned cried out wildly: ** Back, Miss Benton! Back for your life! I have come to save you!” The bright vision vanished. The next moment, the young Texan sprung down into the gully, Bertha Benton stood there, wan and tremb- ling, joy and relief, mingled with wonder, im- printed upon her fair face. Ned stood not upon ceremony, but clasped the maiden in his arms, exclaiming; ‘“T am Nueces Ned, the friend of your bro- ther, and of yourself! He and your mother are safe, and I will save you, or die in the at- tempt!” Trustingly, Bertha suffered her rescuer to clasp her to his breast; his brown and wavy mingling with her golden tresses, Weak and broken, the eyes of the poor gir] closed, and she lay as if all sense had again departed from her; but, even in that half-dazed state, she still looked up, from time to time, into the face of her preserver, until the dark shades of the wash-out: shut out all but the out- line of his head, as he sped down the steep of the river. When the young Texan reached the water’s edge, he uttered an ejaculation of relief; for the dug-out was secured on the east side of the mouth of the gully. Ned upward toward the west bank, and again shuddered. Capitan Carajal was not to be seen. The bank, afar overhead, no longer overhung the waters! It was plain to the young man, that a great avalanche of earth started by the three horse- men, had fallen, and been swept down the roll- ne Piece: of the Rio Grandes mounted ndits accompanying it, an arajal in buried eisai thi iad eS The trio of outlaws had been drawn to their doom by the pistol-shot of their leader, and had followed him on the long dark trail. Ned sprung into the dug-out, and laid Bertha tenderly in the stern of the same, placing his jaqueta beneath her head. en, as he cast loose, and took the long oar, shoving off from the shore, there shot across | the canoe, and wave her hand; for she could see her friends fairly dancing with joy, far above and beyond the broad sheet of shimmering waters of the Bravo. Nowhere on earth was there a more grateful and happy man than Nueces Ned, as his eyes | met the expressive orbs of Bertha Benton; the latter now gazing in soul-felt gratitude and sin- cere regard into his face, as he urged the rude boat toward the Texan side. The current, however, carried the craft far down the stream, forcing them to land at least a quarter of a mile below the mouth of the wash- out, from whence Canales Carajal had em- barked with his captive. CHAPTER XVII. THE USUAL CONSEQUENCES, DEAR reader, we have little more to relate in connection with the destruction of Benton Ranch, the capture of Mrs. Benton and her beautiful daughter by the bandits of Cortina under Capitan Carajal. The anxiously watching Texans on the north bank of the river liad seen the return of the out- law chief to the mouth of the gully without his captive, and had been greatly tortured with anxiety, besides being much puzzled. Little hope had they of ever again beholding the maiden, until they at length perceived Nueces Ned crossing the river cn the log. Then their joy knew no bounds. They had feared Ned had been slain, conse- quently the sight of the young man, in a fair way to accomplish the rescue of the darling of their hearts, filled the mother and brother with great joy and relief, to say nothing of the other spectators, But, when Carajai returned to the mouth of the gully and succeeded in firing off his revol- ver, the trio of bandits soon appearing—appa- rently in answer to his signal—then all were again plunged into anxiety, believing Bertha, and Ned also, to be lost. All were fated, however, to witness a most ter- rible spectacle, for the gallop of the three mus- tangs upon the overhanging bank caused the same to give way. A huge mass of earth many tons in weight, together with the shrieking men and mustangs, was precipitated down the vast hight into the river, Capitan Carajal, who hap- pened to be standing on the west side of the | gully hurling taunts at the Texans, being buried | ee beneath the avalanche ax.d the waters of the Rio Bravo! ‘ It seemed to those who witnessed it, to be a just alae nevertheless it was terrible to eHoO1d, _ When Nueces Ned appeared, with thé maiden in his arms, the joy of all knew no bounds; but, as the dug-out cut the waters, they realized that it would be forced to land some distance down the river, This made it necessary for all to make a roundabout trip, to gain the point of landing, except those on the east side of the wash-out, The meeting between mother and daughter was most affecting, as was also that between the rescued sister and Little Lariat. The emotions of all were so deep that they did not know, or observe, that Nueces Ned had no sooner placed Bertha in her mother’s arms, than he sunk to the earth, in a dead faint; his strength, so fearfully overtaxed, giving way at the last. The rancheros, however—some of them at least—saw that Ned had given out; and they sprung to his assistance, striving te revive him. But Bertha Benton did not forget the brave young man, who had risked so much to rescue er: and as soon as she could tear herself from Little Lariat, she turned to thank her deliverer, When she saw that he had fainted, she insisted on going at once to his aid and herself adminis- tering the restoratives. It was then that she discovered that the youn scout, during his exertions in her behalf, ha n suffering from a severe wound; and then, not only was fhe maiden’s heart deeply touched, but praises of her rescuer fell from every tongue. ‘* Sufferin’ Moses!” put in Pecan Pete; “ yer doesn’t know thet pard o’ mine, boyees, But I reckon yer will, arter this, kinder *Jow he air a man cl’ar from the ground up. ‘¢He’s lost bleed ’nough ter make a buffler- bull wilt down onter ther perrarer, run its tongue out an’ lose all its vim. Dang me, ef I ain’t proud o’ my Few Ned, an’ I eu lively fandang’ ef a ski a hed a squar’ feed! I'd like i TTL —— 15 Texan bank, a / ter do hit out’n pure joy, count o’ ther caliker bein’ all O. K.” The gratitude and regard of Little Lariat and his mother was most deep and sincere toward Nueces Ned; and the fair Bertha’s feelings, as all at once saw, were still more tender. She would probably have betrayed them, had not the general agitation under which she labored pre- vented her giving way to any single emotion, Ned speedily regained his senses, and his joy was most ecstatic when he again looked into Bertha’s eyes and read within their azure depths the tell-tale secret of her admiration and affec- tion for him; a passion which was born of grat- itude, but which, he felt sure, would be in time transformed into a love that would bind her to him for life. The young Texan was taken in hand by Pecan Pete, horses were brought, and all mounted, soon starting toward Rio Grande City, where they arrived, weary and hungry, as the sun made its appearance. All received the greatest praise and sympa- thy, and a home was offered to the Bentons b one of the citizens until such time as the ranc could be rebuilt, and Cortina should be so badly whipped that he would not dare venture again into Texas. Not long after the occurrences we have record- ed, the great battle of the Cortina War was fought; some three hundred rangers, under the brave and gallant Colonel John Ford, known as ‘Old Rip,” defeating the bandit forces, which were commanded by Cortina in person. The Greasers were shot down by scores while swim- ming the Rio Grande, after leaving the greater portion of their number, either dead or mortally wounded, in the chaparrals. Nueces Ned, Pecan Pete, and Little Lariat fought in this battle with great bravery, and all three were wounded. After this, ‘‘ ranching it” on the Rio Grande became less dangerous. Mrs. Benton had her home and corrals rebuilt, another cottage being erected in the vicinity. This, ere long, was occupied by the prosperous ranger and scout, Nueces Ned, or Edward Ewing, and Bertha his wife. Little Lariat and Jose Sanchez made their home with Mrs. Benton, and not infrequently the lank form of Pecan Pete might be seen, breaking through the mesquites upon his horse, and yelling: ‘‘Sufferin’ Moses! Hyer I am ag’in! Dang my ole heart, folkses, ef I hain’t come ter see yer fer a bit!” But it was not many years after the rebuild- ing of Benton Ranth, when other dwellings be- sides the happy home of Ned and Bertha were erected in the ‘‘open.” Jose took to wife a fair senorita, and Little Lariat was not long in following suit. These additions to the home circle, however, caused no divisions, beyond those made by the vine-covered walls of the re- spective dwellings; and, as ever, union was strength. THE END. DIME DIALOGUES AND SPEAKERS FOR SCHOOL EXHIBITIONS AND HOME ENTERTAINMENTS. Dialogues, Nos. 1 to 32 inclusive, 15 to % popu- lar dialogues and dramas in each book. Each vol- ume 100 pages 12mo. Speakers, Nos. 1 to %4 inclusive. Each speaker 100 pages 12mo, containing from 50 to 75 pieces. YOUNG PEOPLE'S SERIES. Dime Book of Winter Sports. Dime Book of Summer Athletic Sports. Dime Gents’ Letter Writer. Dime Book of Etiquette. Dime Book of Verses, Dime Book of Dreams. Dime Fortune Teller. Dime Ladies’ Letter Writer. Dime Lovers’ Casket. Dime Ball-Room Companion. Dime Book of 100 Games. Dime Chess Instructor. Dime Book of Beauty. 2 The above books are sold by newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent, post-paid, to any ad- dress, on receipt of price, ten cents each. Brapie anp Apams, Publishers, 98 William st., N. Y.
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Wray SAG , BEADLE’S*H z = 9 ow gat — ba at ALF-DIME* LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at tne Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers. BY EDWARD L, WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novels. 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 on or, Deadwood Dick in Danger. 57 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 78 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or. Calamity Jane, the Heroine. 77 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 neue ween Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s suleh. 188 Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base. 9 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 Roa ° 201 The Black Hills Jezebel; or, Dexdwood Dick’s Ward. 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane’s Last Ad- venture, Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. Sugar-Coated Sam; or, The Black Gown. Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Rough. and Toughs, Deadwood Dick's Divides or, The Spir.t of Swamp Lake. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trall. 809 Deadwood Dick’s Big Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Jregon, 821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. 847 Dendwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Rainy Days in the Dig- ginys. 851 Deadwood Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta. 862 Deadwood Dick’s Claim; or, The Fairy Face of Faro | Flats. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City, 410 peadweed 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; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Defiance. 458 ner Sam, of Shasta; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Full and, 459 Flush Fan, the Ferret; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Big Ronnd- 465 Philo Fly, of Phenix; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Racket at ain . 471 Bozeman Bill; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Corral. 476 Humboldt Harry, tue Hurricane; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Dog Detective. 481 Moll Mystery; or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Dendwood. 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 Digging 5 or, Dr. Death-Grip’s Swoop. 608 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. 589 Deadwood Dick Jr., in Texas. 544 Deadwood Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidocq. 549 Deadwood Dick on Mia Mettle. 554 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick in Boston, 567 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Philadelphia, 572 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago, Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler, 26 Cloven Hoof, 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, 58S Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix, . 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team. 69 Gold Rille, the ead precy or, The Boy Detective, 80 Rosebud Tob; or, Yugget Ned, the Knight. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand, 88 Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance. 92 Ganade Chet 3 or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp, 96 Watch-Eye; or, Arabs und Angels of a Great City. 118 Jack Hoyle the Young Speculator. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner. 188 Bowe Bob the King of Bootblacks, 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent, 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective; or, Boss Bob’s Boas Job. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective, 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Sierras Scamps, 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo, 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective, | 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist 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, the Frontier Ferret. 248 Sierra Sam’s Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Sierra Sam’s Pard; or, The Ange! of Big Vista, 258 Sierra Sain’a Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 278 Jumbo Jove, the boy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 1 Denver Doll's Victory, 285 Denver Doll’s Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza. 291 Turk, the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’s Drift; or, The Road Queen. 299 A No, 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. 808 ’Liza Jane, the Jirl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport. B25 Kelley, Hickey & Co., the Detectives of Philadelphia. B80 Little Quick-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggeraville. 4 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miuer. 889 Kangaroo Kit’s Racket. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood, 858 Firat-Class Fred, the Gent trom Gopher. B68 yreks Jim, the Gold-Gatherer 3 or, The Lottery of fe. 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. 878 Nabob Ned; or, The Secret of Sinb City. 882 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, 885 Yreka Jim's Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nose, 889 Bicycle Ben; or, The Lion of Lightning Lode, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 High Mat Warry, the Base Ball Detective, 6 Sam Slabsldes, the Bogesr-Boy Detective. 484 Jim Benk and Pal, Private Detectives. 488 Santa te ‘sal, the Slasher. 486 Seulskin Sam, the Sparkier, BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon, Wm. F. Cody), 4 Kansas King; or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie. 55 Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Scout, 68 Border Robin Hood; bed ao Prairie Rover. 168 Faney Frank of Colorado}; or, The Trapper’s Trust, BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 WIL! Somers, the Bo. Detective. 122 Phil Mardy, the Boss Boy. . 126 Picayune Cete 3 or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. 180 Detective Dick 3 or, The Here in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, 147 WIll Wildfire, the Thoroughbred, 152 Black Besa, Will Wildtire’s Racer. = Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. WIL Wildfire in the Wooda. Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy. A Tramp Card; or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses, Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York, : Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner. The Hidden Mand; or, Wil! Wildfire’s Revenge. Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy; or, The Smuggters, Bob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. 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 ot the Flock, 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 2535 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two * Bloods”; or, 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’« Jobs or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughbred. 805 Pashaway, of Dakota; or, A Western Lad in the Quaker re City. $24 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 8 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 858 The Reporter-Detective; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard. 867 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. ZNNNIASAaO Somos BY OLL COOMES. 5 Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. 18 The Dumb Spy. RTA ntclope Abe, the Boy Guide. 81 Keen-Knife, the Prince of the Prairies. 41 Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. 58 The Border King; or, The Secret Foe. 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. v4 eta Harry the Young Trapper R nger, 88 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. 184 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman, 148 Sear-Face Saul, the 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 Hurricane, the Boy Captain. 202 Prospect Pete ; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters, 208 The Boy Mercules: or, The Prairie Tramps, 218 Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror. 224 Dashing Dicks or. ‘Trapper Tom’a Castle. 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, 248 The Disgutsed Gulde 3 or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger, 272 Minksakin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 800 The Sky Demon ¢ or, Ruinbolt, the Ranger, 884 Whip-king Joe, the Boy Ranchero. 409 Hercules; or, Dick, the Boy Ranger. 417 Webfoot Mone, the Tramp Detective. 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, 444 Little Buckskin, tne Young Prairie Centaur, 457 Wingedfoot Fred; or, Old Polar Saul. 468 Tamarac Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic, 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. 562 Blundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper. BY T. C, HARBAUGH, 2% Nick o’ the Night; or, Th: Boy Spy of ’76, 87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Littl Hunter, 47 Nightingale Nat; «1, Toe Forest Captuins, 64 Dandy Jack 3 or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trails. 82 Kit Marefoot the Wood-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack ; or, The Boy Trapper, 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch, Jr. or, The Boy V izilante, 155 Gold Tr Eger, the Sport; or, The Girl Avenger, 169 Tornado Tom; or, aun Jack From Red Core, 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. 198 Arkansaw 3 or, The Quen of Fate’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Tovknot’s Crusade, 231 Plucky Phil; or, Rosa, the Re! Jezebel, 241 Bill Bravo; or, Tie Roughs of the Rockies, 255 Captain Apoli , tue King-Pin of Bowie, 267 The Buckskin Detective. 279 Old Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperadges, 294 Dynamite Dan; or, The Bowle Blade of Cochetopa, 802 The Mountain Detective: oT, The Trigger Bar Bully. 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Card of Arizona, $26 The Ten Pardsy or. The Terror ot Take-Notice. 886 Big Benson; or, 'Tie Queen of the La-so, 845 Pitiless Matt; or, Red Thunderholi’s Secret, B56 Cool sam und Par: o- The Terrible Six, 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Cutlass; or, | he B ccxneer’s Girl Foe. 896 Rough Rob; or, The (win Champions of Blue Blazes. 411 The Silken Lasso; or, The Rose of Rancl: Robin. 418 Fellx Fox, the Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump, tie Border Rattler, 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. 445 The City Vampires; or, Ked Rolfe'’s Pigeon. 461 One Against Fifty; or, ‘The Last Man of Keno Bar, 470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox's Hunt. A77 The Excelsior Sport: or, The Washington Spotter, 499 Single Sight, the One-Eved Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret. 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective, 521 Dodger Dick’« Best Dodge. 528 Fox and Falcon, the bowery Shadows, 588 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. 548 Dodger Dick's Double: or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 558 Dodger Dicks Desperate Case, 568 Dodger Diek, the Boy Vidocq. 578 The Two Shadows. ee ES Se ee ae Saprirel ess BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, The lying Yankee ; or, The Ocean Outeast, Ralph Roy, the boy Bucean. er; or. The Fugitive Yacht, Diamond dirk 3 or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone, The Shadow Ship's or. The Rival Lieutenants, the Boy Duelist ; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf, Dick Dead Eye, the Boy Smugyier. The Sea-Devil; or, The Midshipuan’s Legacy. The iMussar Captuin; or, The Hermit of Hell Gate, oe Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. 204 Gold Plume; or, The Kid-Glove Sport. 216 Bison BILL, the Prince of the Reins, 222 Grit, the Bravo Sports or, The Woman Trailer. 229 Crimson Kate or, The Cowboy's Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy Ma The Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman Mutineer ; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer, 264 , a Floating Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure - siand. 269 The Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’s Cruise; or, The Chase of “The Gold ip.” 280 Merle Monte’s Fate ; or. Pearl, the Pirate’s Bride, 284 The Sea Marauder}; or, Merle Monte’s Pledge, 287 Billy Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover «f the Rio Grande. 804 The Dead Shot Dandy ; or, Bento. the Boy Bugler. SOs keno Kit; or, Dead Shot Dandy’s Double, E 814 The Mysterious Marauder} or, The Boy Bugler's Long ‘Trail, 877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover; or, The Flagless Schooner. B88 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island, 8 Ww arpath WILL, the Boy Phantom. p++ 4 Tenet the Bos Lieutenant. The Fétai sodor, the Young Conxptrator; or, The Fatal Le 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. hang 412 The Wild Yachtaman; or, The War-Clouu’s Cruise, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 488 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, Tie Corsair. 487 The Sea Raider. 441 The Oceun Firefly $ or, A Middy’s Ver geance. 446 Maphazard perry 3 or, The Scapegrace of the Sea. 450 Wizard Will; or, The Boy Ferre. of New York. 454 Wizard WIIIs Street Scouts, 462 The Born Guide; or, The Saiior Boy Wanderer, 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Conster. 474 Flora; or, Wizard Wili’s Vagabond Para. 488 Ferrets Afloat; or, Wizard Wil’s Last Case, 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger. 495 Arizona 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. 511 The Outiawed Middy. 520 Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. 525 Brothers in Buckskin. 580 The Buckskin Bowers. 585 The Bue skin Rovers. 540 Captain Ku-Klux, the Marauder of the Rie 545 Lieutenant Leo, the Son of Lafitte. 550 Lafitte’s Legacy; or. The Avenging Son. 555 The Creole Corsair. : 560 Pawnee Bill, the Prairie Shadower. 565 Kent Kingdon, the Card King. 570 Camille, the Card Queen. 575 The Surgeon-Scout Detective. LATEST AND NEW ISSUEs. 577 Pavement Pete, the Secret Sifter, By Jo Pierce. 578 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Afloat. By Edward L. Wheelers 579 The Chimney 8 or, Broadway Billy’s Surprise-Party. By J.C, Cuwdrick. be : ma P 580 The Outcast Cadet; or, The False Detective. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 581 Double-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detective. By George C. enks, 582 Dodger Dick’s Drop. By T. C. Harhaugh. 588 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow. By Lieut. A. K, Sims, 584 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Denver. By Ed. L. Wheeler, 585 Will Waters, the Boy Ferret. By H. Enton. 586 The Buckskin Avenger. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 587 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. By Lieut. A. K, Sima. ; 590 Deadwood Dick, Jr’s., Decree.. By E. L, Wheeler. 591 Delmonte. the Young Sea Rover. By Col, P Ingraham. - 592 The Boy Pinkerton. By J.C. Cowdrick. 598 Keen Clem, the Ranch Imp. By P. S, Warne. 594 Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. By T. C. Harbaugh. 595 Deadwood Dick Jr. in Beelzebub’s Basin. By E. L. Wheeler. 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Wolves. By Chas, M forris. 597 The Young Texan Detective. By Col- P. Ingraham. 598 Flute, the Singer Detective, By Geo. C. Jenks. 599 Jim Dandy, the No-Name Sport. By P. 8. Warne, 600 Deadwood Dick Jr. at Coney Island. By Edward t. Wheeler. Ready January 22 601 Happy Hans, the Dutch Vidocq; or, Red-Hot Times at Round-Up. By Lieut. A. K. Sims. Ready January 29, 602 The Vagabond of the Mines. By Col. P. Ingrabam. ady February 6. 608 Wide-Awnke Bert, the Street-Steerer, By Jo, Pieree. Ready February 13. ‘ 604 Iron Fern, the Man of Fire. By Lieut, Royal A. Swift, U. Ready February 20. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 WilHam Street, New York. . it the he . ¥ Sate w — ek o-“-- on~