Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 41) (1878 05 07)
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“LEE x I g —_— AVTT >> p y) Copyrighted in 1878, by BEADLE AND ADAMS. BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK, — Single Price, Number. | TE OTT RS ae Ss oS ET Bs ra or De ate oes P ; | but a few exceptions, ride bare-back, for they | Lasso Jack, | hide, with which its owner had won an enviable are a band of Comanche Indians. THE YOUNG MUSTANGER. BY OLL COOMES, AUTHOR OF ‘‘ VAGABOND JOE,” “‘ ANTELOPE ABE,” ‘* KEEN-KNIFE,” ETC. CHAPTER I. THE FUGITIVES. Low pat the western horizon—that distant boundary o rairie, a dark cloud wasrising from behind the evel of the plain and drifting rapidly, and in a direct line, along the bosom of the green ex- The cause of their wild, swift riding was readi- ly perceived; a few hundred yards in advance of them two fugitives were riding for their lives! They were both white men. Their faces were | bronzed by exposure to the sun and wind, and begrimed with dust and dirt. They were young men—almost boys. They were dressed in garbs of buck-skin, and armed with the weapons of | bordermen and carried the accouterments of | mustangers. the vision—upon a wild Texan | | from their depths shone a The younger of the two was not over twenty years of age—a perfect model of manhood and grace. His eyes were of a dark brown, and leasant light that was indicative of a wild, dashing spirit. He was mounted upon a neat-limbed and panse, at the same time standing plainly outlined | spirited clay-bank mustang that was caparison- against the azure blue of the mi Was it a storm-cloud float- ing over that great green ocean? What else could it have been? Still it seemed singular that a cloud would thus rise and float away in a volume over the plain, as though borne upon a strong head-wind. A casual observer standing upon the eastern extremity of the prairie would have dis- covered at once that the cloud was approaching him. And soon he would detect a dull rumbling, like that of distant thunder, and also, the sound of human voices issu- ing from out that cloud—hu- man voices that were high and fierce with wild emo- tions. Then the observer could readily tell that that dark mass was no storm-cloud, but a cloud of dust thrown up by the flying feet of horses, the pounding of whose hoofs on the hard, dry plain he could distinctly hear growing plainer and plainer each mo- ment. And as the cloud, driven rapidly down before a strong head-wind, drifts further eastward, a band of horsemen can be distinguish- ed within it. There were over three score of them, and they are all covered with dirt and ther faces are begrimed with sweat and dust and contort- ed with wild excitement. Most of them are half-naked, and their breasts and arms are streaked and ringed with pi sinents of piebald colors. right spear-heads bristle and flash above their plumed heads, and rifle-barrels glim- mer in their hands, They are mounted upon clean, strong-limbed ponies that are reeking with sweat and foam, and they all, with ummer’s sky. ed with a light bridle and fine Mexican saddle. A HUMAN HAND AND ARM WERE THRUST UPWARD THROUGH THE EARTH! fame as a mustanger. This gallant young knight of the prairies was the renowned 0 Jack. The other fugitive from the yelling savages was a few years older than his companion, but he was a fair specimen of noble and vigorous manhood, quite rivaling Lasso Jack in many points of physical development. He bestrode a spirited animal and was armed and equipped as was his friend. This youth was the daily companion of Lasso Jack, and answered to the name of Henry Bt. Elmo. For upward of two years had these two young men been engaged in capturing wild horses on | the prairies of Texas, and had made the busi- ness a lucrative one by running their stock to the nearest trading-post, where they could al- ways find ready market. On the morningy of the day that we introduce them, thio young mustangers had, in pursuit of their vocation, ventured too far into the Co- manche hunting-grounds,and running across a large war- party, journeying south- ward, they were compelled to turn and flee. Then began a long and fear- ful race across the great prai- rie beneath the broiling sum- mer sun, and it was hours afterward that they first burst upon our view, lar out upon the plain. For hours the fugitives had sped on in silence, now and then glancing back to note their proximity to the foe, “This is getting to be a pretty warm chase,” Henry St. Elmo finally said. “ fear our ponies are beginning to give way, and, in case they do, our hair is bound to be that the savages’ ponies are failing, too, and that they are as far behind us now as when the race first began. I believe yet, that nothing but accident to us wil] deter- mine the chase in the Co- manches’ favor, and you can rest assured, Henry, that fair object of your dreams will not stand in need of your strong arm long.” St. Elmo smiled hopeless- ly at his friend’s allusion, t was a critical moment for Henry to indulge in any plea- sant anticipations, with that horde of shrieking demons thundering at their heels for their scalps.” “Tt is a long way to the San Saba timber, Jack, and
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2 — until we reach its cover we can not elude these howling devils. _“That’s all very true, St. Elmo; but, look ahead yonder: doesit look to you as though there was a dark line running at right-angles with our course across the plain?” ee oa looked in the direction indicated, and replied: Yes, Jack; it’s a fringe of bushes on thé banks of a small stream coursing its way across the plain.” ‘“ By heavens, that. isbad!” ed..Jack; ‘if its banks are toosteep to admit of our cross- ing it, these red hounds will get us, sure. ¥ The fugitives rode on, and, as iy approach- ed the object in question, they found their worst fears confirm A small am was before them. Its banks were fringed here and there with clumps of willows and tangled sage-brush, overgrown with dark-green parasites. Yell after yell now began to peal from the Comanches’ lips. They knew that the stream was before the fugitives, and felt certain of their capture, for they were satisfied a could not cross the creek. And, to prevent the mustan- gers’ escape either up or down the stream, they began to scatter out, some going to the right and some to the left. ; = The mustangers saw their appalling situation in a moment. ‘“ We're goners, Jack, sure as ‘guldy!’” ex- claimed St. Elmo; ‘‘ we can never cross that creek with our animals, and we can not turn ei- ther up or down the creek, for the red varlets are spreading out to cut us off.” me r am sure the stream is not so very wide, nor the banks so high but what our animals might leap it. e had better try it, for it is our only chance of escape. If we succeed—” ‘‘ By Heaven, look there!” suddenly exclaim- ed St. Elmo, pointing ahead of them toward a clump of bushes on the opposite side of the creek. ‘““What is it, St. Elmo, what is it?’ asked Lasso Jack. “There are Indians in that clump of bushes before us on the ip pe side of the stream!” “You are surely mistaken! I see nothing!” replied Jack. ‘Nor do I now; but I did see the flash of a gun-barrel, and a plumed head drop in the bushes when I first spoke.” ‘“ Well, we will have to take our chances for life, Henry,” said Jack. ‘‘If there are Indians over there, our cake is dough and there will be a probability of our scalps ornamenting Co- manche SP !—there, by Jupiter! I saw the Indian’s head and face, and if I mistake not it was an Apache. If so, you know the Coman- ches and Apaches are at war now, and both tribes areour enemies. How our chase will end, there is no telling, inasmuch as there are three parties concerned. But, here we are, St. Elmo, —on the bank of the creek. We can leap it— forward—over, my noble steed—hurrah!” They reached the bank of the creek, Lasso Jack afew feetinadvance. With aslight pause to gather momentum, the animals, in obedience to their riders’ command, made a fearful leap and landed safely on the ree shore. Lasso Jack was still in advance of his friend, and with a shout of triumph and defiance, he ye spur and dashed on, shouting to St. Elmo to ollow. / Jack never gazed back. He had now entered into the excitement of the race with all the fervor of his ones dashing young spirit. Close behind he could hear the tramp of the hoofs of St. Elmo’s horse, and still further back, he could hear the heavy thud, thud of the hoofs of the Comanche horses leaping the creek. He could hear their enemies’ triumphant shouts, and now and then a rifle would crack, and a bullet whistle in unpleasant proximity apast his head. But still the daring young mustanger led on, ever and anon shouting to his companion who was still behind. It wasa wild, fearful chase, yet Lasso Jack experienced no fear for his own safety, for in int of s he had never found an equal for is animal on the Texas prairies. His greatest fears, however, were for his beloved companion, Henry St. Elmo. Still, the horse of the latter was holding out well, for close behind he could still hear the steady thump of his hoofs. ‘Come on, Henry,” he shouted back; ‘‘ a few miles more and we will strike the San Saba timber. This is a little the most exciting chase I ever indulged in, for we’re scattering miles be- hind us, at lightning But is your horse failing any, old friend?” There was no response to the young mustan- ger’s question. Beadle’s HalfDime Library. AP j animal failing, St. Elmo?’ he re- peate Still there was no response. F ‘What ails you, Henry?’ asked, the young man, turning his head and gazing back the fi time since he had crossed the creek; ‘‘ can’t you hear, or— My God! where is he?” Close behind his own animal followed.that of St. Elmo, but it was riderless! Henry.St. Elmo was gone—missing from his aiimah back! CHAPTER.-II. _ IN CAMP, Ar the close of the same day on which our story opens, a little band of , if such they might be called>-went into camp in a little ve on the banks of a small stream that emp- ied its waters into the San Saba River. The party numbered some two-and-twenty persons, and all were men but two. These were young girls just budding into womanhood. The eldest of the men, and the leader of the party, was a man upon whose head were stamp- ed the frosts of fifty winters. Still he was strong and robust as any man in his party. He was kind and generous hearted, er possessed of the imperativeness of speech of one used to giving command, and of that erect, dignified carriage of form that comes of long military life and training. e In fact, Captain Louis Gray had spent most of his life in the service of his country, and al- though he loved and adored the gentler sex, his heart had remained untouched by Cupid’s dart. At the time when we introduce him to the reader, he was serving his country in a garri- son on the Texan frontier, with the rank of captain. A short time previous to the opening of our story he had been granted leave of ab- sence, with the commission of a recruiting offi- cer; so, while visiting with friends in his native place, he had obtained as recruits for his own company, nine of the young men now accom- panying Nine of the others were traders, bound for Santa Fe. They consolidated their forces with that of the captain for mutual protection against the Indians and prairie pirates that infested the country, south and south-west of Red river. There was another person in the party that demands our attention. He was an Englishman, and gave his mame as Sir George Richardson. He claimed to be a scion of one of the first fami- lies of England, but having become bankrupted by wild lation; he left his native land for America, where he hoped to retrieve his lost fortune. He came direct to St. Louis, and there hearing of a party of traders fitting out for San- ta Fe, he was fired by a.spirit of adventure, and — to them for passage in their train across e e traders saw that Hisiyeas a man of rare abilities. There about his hp ce Id of an adventui some spirit; and in dark-; eyes was a cular twitifle dndibative, Sf -iie- daapmaastible mine of humor and ee a. such as always make a desirable companion; and so the traders at once granted him passage in their train, and before they had been out a week, they found that he fulfilled all their desires of ‘ve. toms. He wore side-whiskers, clothes, and carried a gold-headed cane, that was never out of his and only when he slept, and then. it was always by his side. «dete The two young females in the party were nieces of Captain Louis Gray. They were sis- and having lately become pies Pe the death of their father, their uncle, Louis Gray had volunteered himself and men’ as an escort to take them to their brother, who was then a leading merchant trader in Santa Fe, and who had earnestly solicited his young sisters to come and make their home with him. Mabel Garfield was about eighteen summers of age. She was tall and queenly in stature, with light golden hair, blue eyes and a clear complexion that rendered her sylph-like beauty and delicately defined features exquisite in their mod and loveliness. She was mild, kind- h and susceptible of all the gentler emo- tions of the human breast, yet she was of a ner- vous temperament, and painfully sensitive of all the dangers that beset their path, and it was only the double assurance of her uncle that had ever induced her to begin the journey at all. Mabel’s sister, Rosalind, was nearly two years younger than she, and was the opposite of her sister in every respect. She was a little bru- nette, with dark eyes and hair, and a dimpled as a free, dashing air. ‘Dorne, for AI pro chin. She was full of life and merriment, and could use’a rifle with all the skill of an old gun- ner, and there were no dangers that she feared, nor any adventure that she did not crave. © “There were ten wagons in all, most of them belonging to Santa Fe traders. They were all drawn up, ‘ tongue and tail,” in a cirele around the camp, while the horses were corraled on the mee of ae hard by. - ‘hree or four camp-fires had been lighted, by which to prepare supper. far, all had enjoyed the trip exceedingly well, having met no trouble or danger in ang form. “s Old Dan Dorne,'the guide, furnished the party with an unusual amount of border stories, while Sir George Richardson spiced the whole with his mirth-provoking pleasantries. But it was readil ved, by the observing, that much of eorge’s fine language was intend- ed for the ears of Rosalind Garfield, for since their sojourn together, his attentions to her had been quite frequent. The golden sun hung just above the horizon, when the little band seated themselves to par- take of their.evening meal. While thus engaged one of their number happened to glance upward among the tree-tops, and saw that which caused him to cry out with sudden surprise and alarm. ‘* What is it, Hale?’ asked Captain Gray. Hale raised his hand and pointed upward. Every eye was at once turned in the direction indicated and saw, half-way a tall, hollow tree, a human s with a small round hole in the forehead. It was fast in a hole in the side of the tree, and seemed to be looking down up- on our friends and grinning in a ghastly man- ner. “By golly!” exclaimed old Dan Dorne, the hunter-guide, looking about him as if to recall something of the past; and then, asa light of recognition lit up his eyes, he continued: “I sw’ar, friends, I remember this spot, fur all it’s been ten years since I war here. And that thing up thar—I know all ’bout it, for it war I that fixed it thar.” ** Ah!” exclaimed the captain; ‘‘ tell us about it, Dan. ‘Well, Cap, it’s not much o’ astory; but "bout ten years ago, a party o’ ushad camped *bout two miles from here, and I went out in search 0’ ree fur supper. I got nigh this very spot when hearn the plain gobble o’ a turkey. know’d at onc’t the gobble warn’t ginewine. I war sa- tisfied it war an Injin’s decoy, and so I con- cluded to take the varlet in outen the wet. So I slipped along through the woods, and as I ad- vanced I found the gobblin’ seeméd to come from up in the air, and so I stopped and went to peekin’ about, and what should I see but an a me head and face, thrust ly through the hole where ye now see that skull, Quick as, wink, I up with ole Knock~-’em-stiff and sent a bullet squar’ through his for’ead. And _ if ye'll look sharp, ye kin see the hole in the skull now.’ - “How do you know that is the same skull?” asked one-of the recruits. _“‘Tknow it_is, fur when I shot the red, he did’t drap. His head got wedged into the hole someway or other, and there it has remained ever sence.” ‘Ah, hindeed!” exclaimed Sir George; ‘‘ that “ hincident is —_ worthy hof my note-book. You may see that Ain print some day, Mr. ” to write a book when Al get over to Santa Fe—a book hof hour journey across the prairies of Texas,” Supper was finally over with, and while the men were making arrangements for the night, Mabel and Rosalind strolled leisurely out into the woods. ‘All day, Mabel had been unusually silent and nervous. Rosalind did not fail to notice it, and when they were alone she asked: Mabel, why are you so sad and uneasy to- day? Ihope you are not home-sick, now that we are so near brother Arthur.” “No, no, sister; it is not that,” returned Mabel. “But you remember the letter I re- ceived afew days before we started on this journey, do you not?” ““Yes—oh, yes; I had nearly forgotten about that. It was from Henry St. Elmo, written in reply to yours, in which you told him of our journey to Santa Fe,” “Yes, exactly.” “T remember it well; and he wrote he would meet us, with a friend of his, at—at—where was it, Mabel? I have forgotten.” ‘He wrote he would meet us on Clear Creek, a tributary of the San Saba river.” ; “Then why are you fretting? Henry will surely keep his word.”
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7 pt ““Tt may be he will, sister; but the time. is up now for his meeting us. T heard our guide say that the creek upon whose bank our camp is located is called Clear Creek.” “Indeed!” exclaimed Rosalind; “then we may expect Henry at our camp to-night.” “We may, sister; but I fear he has—” ‘“‘ Forgotten his promise, or become false to ou?” a: No, no, Rosalind; Henry St. Elmo could never become false to me, nor forget a promise. He is too manly and abla haarted for that; but I fear something has befallen him, or we should have found him here,” ; ‘¢-You should not put too much confidence in him, Mabel,” said Rosalind, with a smile; ‘‘men are all fickle-hearted, and some dark-eyed Mex- ican senorita may have won Henry’s love away from you.” ‘*Oh, Rosalind! I could never think so of Henry.” ; “And yet it may be so,” persisted Rosalind. “Tf there are impossibilities in this world, I think that one of them,” said Mabel. ‘ “T hope so, for your own sake, dear sister; still I would not worry and fret about his not coming. He may have been delayed, and will join us yet, But hark! What is that?” ‘Horses’ hoofs out upon the plain,” said Mabel, and her eyes lit up with a joyous light. “Tt ma Henry, now.” Rosalind stepped upon a fallen log and tried to obtain a view of the horseman or horsemen, whichever it was, but the intervening under- growth concealed all from her view, They listened. They heard the hoof-strokes owing plainer and plainer. Then there sud- enly arose a fierce yell, mingled with the clash of fire-arms. Filled with sudden alarm, Rosalind and Mabel turned and fled back to camp. When_they reached it, they found the men with rifles in hand, waiting the approach of the unknown horseman. CHAPTER III. THE YOUNG MUSTANGER’S LIFE-STRUGGLE. WHERE was Henry St. Elmo? There ran his horse, but riderless! Lasso Jack was riding alone over the trackless prairie, and St, Elmo was— We shall see. When his animal made the fearful ee that carried it across the stream, the girth of his sad- dle snapped, and the horse shot like an arrow from t,o both saddle and rider, and galloped after its mate, The unfortunate young ey ne ad fell full length into the creek, and was lost from view of those behind him: but, knowing the savages were close at hand, and that there was no possi- ble chance of recovering his horse, he kept him- self upon his back in the water, which, at this point, was about three feet deep. The next minute he saw a number of dark forms leaping the water-course, and heard the pounding of hoofs on each A perfect cloud of dust and dirt was thrown back by the horses’ feet, completely concealing him from view; and finally when the last savage was a heard their retreating yells, he saw that his hap had been unnoticed, A gentle swell in the rairie, just before the creek was reached, must |. ave concealed him from the savages’ eyes, at the same instant that he rolled into the creek, and as his horse followed on after Lasso Jack half hidden in a cloud of dust, the savages failed to notice his absence from his animal’s back. He heard the retreating savages away on the plain, and felt that for the moment he was safe. Had he forgotten the Indian seen in the clump of bushes? A single thought sufficed to alarm him, but before he a act, ed pete mah of sock side of the creek—rung. s y out, an acry as of mortal agony, get A St. Elmo staggered forward, clutching at breast, and sunk yheavily to the earth, on the further bank of the creek, Then forth from each of the thickets over which a puff of smoke now hung, iss an In- dian warrior, with a scalping-knife in one hand, and the smo muzzle of a rifle in the other. One was an Apache, the other a Comanche warrior—deadly enemies. : Each one been concealed in the thicket, and was unaware of the other’s presence. The rifles of both had cracked simultaneous, and the reports were blended as one. Each one had no pe ed thought than that he had slain the white man, and now proce in forward to. claim his scalp, and “gn ge victory. But they came to a sudden halt, and glared at each other like two maddened wild beasts preparing to leap. and he | Like nts they became locked in pliant folds, and fought with knives, feet and teeth, in the meantime whirling over and over in such rapid evolutions that their bodies seemed in- corporated into one. They fought in silence only as two such fearful foes can fight. Com- mon men would have been exhausted in half the time. They seemed of supernatural endurance; and for f ly an hour no one could have told on which side the advantage hung. But, finally, the Apache began to show signs of failing strength. is efforts were less desper- ate, and his breath came quick and in labored dibs. aon ite. Hon oo ba geting were upon an g eye shone with a deadl Magee A hollow groan soon told that life with the Apache was at an end. Then the Comanche sprung to his feet and uttered a fearful war- ery. Ascalp was in his hand and before him lay the lifeless form of the.Apache. But, he had paid dearly for his victory. He was cut, bitten and bruised in a fearful manner, and was bleed- ing from more than a dozen painful wounds. The stimulus of victory and excitement was all that kept him up, and as these be to wear off, he realized the danger he was in—the dan- er of bleeding to death. So, divesting the dead pache of some of his garments, he tore them Pee atkine ann Siena, banda or wounds, ‘ out from the creek a few paces, he glanced in the direction that his friends were a Jack. They were now miles away. Fora moment he stood apparently un- decided; then advanced a short distance down the stream, and stopping, uttered a low, plain- tive call. Forth from a thicket still further down the creek, a fine, its red master, The Comanche took it by the bits when it came up and led it along to the fallen Apache. Procuring the dead warrior’s weapons, he at- tached them to his saddle and moved on toward the body of the fallen pale-face to procure his weapons and scalp. hat was his surprise on reac the spot where the white man had fallen, to find it was gone! He glanced at the ground. A pool of dark blood marked the spot where the mustanger had lain, He raised his eyes and swept the sur- rounding thickets. He started with involun fear and horror. He saw a rifle thrust throug a clump of weeds. The muzzle was ward breast, and along the dark barrel he caught the gleam of Henry St. Elmo’s eye! ON OVER THE PRAIRIE, On over the prairie Lasso Jack with the riderless horse of St. 3 was plainly cae that seman eat of pursuers and pursued were failing: yet any advantage had been gained; it was with the mustanger, Turning in his saddle, Jack saw one of the savage pursuers shoot on ahead of his compan- ions at a speed that threatened ber el “That won’t do, my lovely red-skin,” mused Jack; ‘“‘I admire the fine speed of your horse, but it will be the death of you.” food the weapon: mat, paawlag Hone the Bat ra e wea an ong the bar- rel as he steadied himscl?” in his stirrups, fired. True to his aim, the bullet pierced the red- skin’s breast, and throwing u clutched at space; then reeling his pe ped wil tase to the earth, while his horse ) ildly away. ‘That will be a caution to the rest cals to keep back,” exclaimed Jack. The pursuit still continued, but, at ge. a joyous sight suddenly burst upon the fugitive’s eyes. It wasa belt of timber bordering a ttle stream that wound its way across the plain with the sinuosity of a serpent, to be swallowed up in the waters of the San Saba river. There, in that river, the fugitive had hopes of of the ras- spirited mustang galloped toward | r. his arms, he | and fro, lost | the timber they often halted, for days at a time. 8 to avail themselves of the advantages it offerec: to rest themselyes and animals before plunging into the great treeless, shrubless prairie stretch- er PK to El Llano Estacado, Jack pressed on, a cry of joy esca his lips; a thin column of white smoke was i up from among the trees! Some one was in the timber, but, was it friend or foe? There was no time for conjecture or de- liberation; so he headed directly for the timber. CHAPTER V. A MESSENGER WITH BAD TIDINGS. THE little party of traders and recruits, un- der Captain Louis Gray, had not long to wait in ignorance.of who the approaching horsemen were, for Lasso Jack, the young mustanger, orse, dashed closely followed by St. Elmo’s through the woods into their camp. ‘* By crackies!” exclaimed old Dan Dorne, the | gpide, ‘it’s that young dare-devil, Lasso Jack! ° | astonished party; , ho, Jack, how ’re ye, ole friend? What the furies brings you here in sich a whirlwind splut- ter?” CA pack of Comanche devils, my dear old Dorne,” replied Jack, as hedrew rein before the ‘for twenty miles have I | been pursued by the red varlets, and even now | of mine who I am afraid has f inting to- | | tera” and the rude old fellow they are close behind me,” ““Yes, they are coming!” shouted Ca Gray; ‘“‘ make ready to receive them, men.” But, the cunning red-skins, apprised by the smoke of the presence of some one in the grove, were too cautious to venture into unknown dan- gers, and so drew rein on the edge of the prairie about five hundred yards away. Seeing that eae. mare threatened by no im- mediate attack, Captain Gray turned to Lasso Jack and asked: ‘* Stranger, are those the only savages in this vicinity?’ “To the best of my snow ecee they are, and they have come over twenty miles in pursuit of me since noon.” “ How does it come you’ve got an extra with e, Jack? Been snakin’ in a Comanche and cab- gin’ his nag?” demanded the old guide. * “No, Dan; it is the horse of a young friend allen a victim to the Comanches.” “Then you do not know whether the savages iend or not?” asked the captain. “St. Elmo!” cried, Captain Gray; “did say your friend’s name was St. Elmo?” ite ‘Yes; Henry St. Elmo. And I presume you we were coml to meet ers. ou are the party, but Lam sorry to haveto being you the oe terious disappearance.” a — bel heard all; then, as a low shriek burst from her lips, she unconscious to the earth. ““My God, it has killed her!’ cried Louis Gray, springing forward and lifting the inani- mate form of his niece in his strong arms. He carried her at once to her tent, where heand Rosalind applied such restoratives as they could command. “T did not think of that,” said Lasso Jaek, “or I would not have broken the news so sud- denly. But, then, it tells me that sheis H sweetheart of whom I have heard the poor fel- low speak so endearingly. _ But, friends, would it not be advisable to watch those Comanches a little? They might cause us some trouble when they find out our for they are three- score strong.” “Yes, they’d better be watched,” said Old Dan, “fur ll warrant they’re thirstin’ fur skul If it wer’n’t fur ’em two little. erit- : pointed to- ward the maidens’ tent—‘‘us fellers could rough it through and run if we got into clus quarters; but, I hope thar’s not a man in this party but *d die for them gals.” “ Not one,” repled Sir. George Richardson, and his words were repeated by every mouth present, . Dan Dorne was now sent out to watch the movements of the sa . In the mean time, Lasso Jack unsaddled his almost exhausted ani- eluding his pursuers, or of meeting with friends; | mal and lariated it and that of St. Elmo out to grass. Dan Dorne soon returned and reported the Comanches in full retreat over the prairie; but for along this stream lay a route—a slight devi- ation from the overland—often taken by © haga of emigrants and prairie merchants. Here in |
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4 a Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. he was too well read in Indian not to know that this movement was only intended to deceive them. our eyes ed! They'll be along after dark, I reckon.” ld Dan and Jack proceeded to make ar- rangements for the protection of the camp dur- ing the night, and when darkness fell the old — and the young mustanger took their posi- ions as guards, assisted by one or two of the traders and the invincible Sir George, who, with his cane in hand, paced warily to and fro upon his beat. The night was unusually dark, there being no moon until late, while the shadows of the tow- ering cottonwoods made it doubly dark around the silent camp. The hours wore away in quietude. It was nearing the hour of midnight when the crack of a rifle close by suddenly aroused the sleepers. The traders and recruits hurried from their wagons and tents. They could not see their hand before them, but heard a slight noise out- side of the circle of wagons—a noise in which there could be distin ed a heavy respira- tion, dull, sodden blows, and a thumping upon the earth like two foes engaged in a silent hand- to-hand death-struggle. . CHAPTER VI. A SILENT CONFLICT. ‘*T TELL you, boys,” exclaimed Captain Gray, “it is one of our guards in a conflict with a skulking Indian wagon, and procuring The captain ran to his a lantern hurried to where the combatants were engaged, to discover Old Dan and a half-nude sav in a terrible struggle. But, no sooner did the rays of the captain’s lantern stream across them, than the sav: attempted te free himself and escape. The old guide’s prea cond not be broken, and he soon ended the conflict by driving his knife into the Comanche’s breast. Then as the red foe sunk backward to the earth lifeless, Old Dan sprung to his feet. ‘“ By crackey!” he exclaimed, ‘‘that war a all-fired tuff tussel, boys. The greasy varlet war wiry as a snake, and strong as a b’ar.” “Why didn’t you call for ’elp, Dan?” asked Sir George, who by this time had joined the party. Aucall = ty a — Old Dan, ec - y; “‘“why, my lo o you suppose that ole Dorne Le § call for ’e lp when he’s got but one foe to deal with? No sir-ee, ole England! But then I thought once I would have to call fur help fur I see’d two o’ the red niggers skulkin’ *bout the wagons.” “Then we are in no little danger,” said Cap- tain Gray. “Yes, no doubt of it, cap’n,” replied Dorne; “these imps are scouts sent out to find out our situation, and if that t’other darned scamp fot away with all the information he wanted, like as ma es we'll bave a little dig with the lopin’ ounds, yet.” ‘Then let not a mans Te be closed in sleep again to-night,” commanded Captain Gray. ‘“That’s the music, cap’n,” exclaimed Old Dan; ‘and now I'll go out and git Lasso Jack and go to scoutin’ about to find whar the red are, sinners are. The old guide at once took his departure for the woods, while those at camp them- selves in position, ready for instant battle. But the night wore away without any further demonstration on the of the Comanches. By daylight all was life and bustle in the camp. reakfast was prepared and eaten, and arrangements made for immediate departure for the two scouts, the young mustanger and the old guide, had reported the country entirely dese by the enemy. Lasso Jack was to accompany the party, at which all were highly pl and shortl r sunrise the train was in motion, Lasso Jack on the lead, while Old Dan and Sir George brought up the rear. igo a vehicle with the two girls was near the middle of the train. Mabel was sad at heart and sorrowing for her lost lover, while little Rosalind sat day-dreaming and shy] watching the comman form of the hand- some young cavalier in advance of the train. Noon found them seyeral miles from Clear Creek. They halted a few minutes for dinner, and to rest and feed their animals, then re- sumed their journey. There is something grand, majestic and awe- inspiring in a great a onacalmday. It is plainly suggestive of the boundless ocean when no breeze ruffles its surface; and as Lasso Jack rode on at the head of the train with the sweet, fair face of Rosalind Garfield foremost of all others in his mind, he thought he had never seen a prairie that looked so lovely, so roman- tic, so grand as the one spread out before him and stretching away into the hazy distance, like the vision of a dream. He could not a feasting his eyes upon its solemn grandeur, an watching the birds skimming along its surface of green, or the frightened deer floating away into the mist of the distant horizon. While thus engaged in passing the moments as he rode on, the romance of the prairie was suddenly overshadowed by seeing a large body of horsemen galloping to the westward of them. They were plainly outlined against the crim- son sky—for the sun was near its setting—and he could see the flashing of -barrels or _ heads, and the nodding of plumes about the riders’ heads. about he made known his discovery to his friends, and advised an immediate halt. There was not:a doubt in his mind but that the inhuman vultures were swooping down upon the train! The wagons were driven to one side of the roafl about two hundred yards to the summit of a little knoll; the horses were unhitched and the wagons drawn ina circle by hand. Inside of this small inclosure the animals were hitched, and the men took their position within this feeble defense. They soon discovered that the savages were coming directly toward them, at a furious speed. They were not over half a mile away, and it was feared that they intended to at- tempt the capture of the train by a sudden at- tack with all their force. The savages were a hundred strong, and as they approached the train, the hideousness of their yells, mingled with the tramp of their an- imals’ hoofs, drove a chill of terror to the hearts of the little band, for in those demoniac yells they read a fearful doom! CHAPTER VII. A SCENE OF CARNAGE. As the morning sun arose over that Texan prairie, it shone upon a scene of death and car- ‘Atter the night had passed, with its repeated assaults by the Comanches, it left but few of i I ag alive to see the mornin sun rise, Cap’ ray himself, every one 0: his recruits, and all but three of the traders la dead. They had fallen during the night, defend- ing their camp. e foe been repulsed more than a dozen times and had paid dearly for their rash attacks, as more than a score of bloody corpses outside of the circle of wagons testified. Still the survivors of that ht’s massacre were masters of the situation. were Jack, Dan Dorne, Sir George Richardson, three of the traders, and the two maidens, Rosalind and Mabel Garfield. But the men presented the picture of d Their faces were blackened and begrimed with powder and dust. ay were ost exhausted with the night’s conflict, and when day dawned, it brought but little re- lief to their excited minds. The sight of their dead comrades lying around them, with their soe 2 faces staring heavenward—the miz- he es of the d to whom they could ren- der no assistance—the piteous screams of the wounded and terrified horses that stood pawing and moaning, here and there—all these contrib- uted new terrors to their situation, that darkness had kept concealed. Lasso Jack was really the only man that seemed of aspark of hope. He could not, for a moment, entertain the thought of giv- ing up the battle while those two fair, helpless girls were still alive, for they now looked to him or protection. last, dying moments, their uncle had intrusted them to the care of the young mustanger,; who accepted the trust, promising to maintain it till the last. At the nning of the contest, the maidens had been placed one of the heavy wagons which was rendered bullet-proof by piling some of the contents of the traders’ wagons around it. Tn this cover had they remained all of that ter- rible t. Jack had broken to them the sad news of their uncle’s death. It was a terrible shock, but they had prepared themselves for the worst, and accepted the cruel blows of fate with Eee but an fading hearts. Upon Lasso Jack ey now looked as their all, and whenever he came to their wagon, with words of cheer and hope, he was received with gentle words, and a countenanees beaming with hope and ove. Old Dan Dorne and Sir George were blackened and begrimed with powder and dust, yet, with rifle in hand, they were ever at their posts, evincing a spirit of determination and courage that only death itself could overcome. Only the three surviving traders showed a spirit of hopelessness and despair. Daylight had revealed to them their terrible situation— their dead comrades, the destruction of the = hopes that awaited their arrival at. nta Fe—in fact, a certain death to all. But half a dozen horses of all remained within the inclosure of wagons an hour after sunrise. Those wounded were unhitched and turned loose upon the prairie, to seek relief from their pai in the unrestrained fréedom of the in, Among those retained and uninjured were pred Jack’s mustang and Captain Gray’s favorite charger. Both were of more than common and a knowledge of the fact suggested to Jack, more than once during the night, the possibility of chap through the lines of the mi, ? enemy that surrounded them on all sides, By so doing, assistance might be procured and the besieged relieved. Yet it would require hours of hard riding to reach a point where aid could be had, and the absence of one man from the little party might turn the tide of victory—so nearly won already, in favor of the savages. And then, if any one left at all, it would have to be Lasso Jack, for none of the others Lee sessed that knowledge of the country which haste required. But Jack could not leave those two fair girls intrusted to his care. The loving eyes and gen- tle words of Rosalind had aroused in his breast aspirit that seemed to endow him with the strength of a host. Love had, even at that hour of peril, fired the heart of the young mustanger, an nothing but the hand of death could tear him from the object of that love. But what was to be done—what could they do? It would be impossible to withstand the attacks of the enemy much longer. The supply of water procured before starting across the eg 6, was nearly exhausted, and upon that ot, dry plain, without a shrub to intercept the broiling rays of the sun, they could not exist without the life-giving fluid. The savages, now numbering about four-score, were scattered around the camp in a circle about a quarter of a mileaway. They seemed entirely ignorant of the damage they had in- flicted upon the whites, which would have ren- dered ity rey seg td easy to capture the whole train, they made a determined as- sault. They ap to be waiting for some demonstration on the of the whites, but as the hours wore on and no movement was made, the red foes were seen to mount their animals. ‘‘They’re mountin’ for another charge, boys,” said Old Dan. “Yes,” said Lasso Jack, “but let us be ready for them. Let us see that every rifle in the camp is loaded and primed, and then, when we fire, be calm and de te and make every shot count. Ah! the demons are coming!” True enough. With whoop and yell the Co- manches were coming down toward the belea- es camp; but with Spartan bravery, the ttle band prepared to meet them. Kneeling down, each man took aim under the barricade of wagons. As soon as the foe had come within range, all fired, then threw aside their weapons and seized others. In this man- ner they kept up an incessant and deadly fire u the foe, who, believing the force oF the whites was four times that which it really was, turned about and retreated hastily beyond rifle- But, before they turned, they discharg- ed a volley of random shots, and one of the re- maining three traders was killed. The little band were now reduced to five, and it seemed as though they would never be able to repel another canes till they all determined to die fighting, rather than surrender, for they were sai they would be tortured to death if taken alive. “This, friends,” said Sir George, ‘‘is getting to be a serious matter. Alt is a bit the most ter- rible hadventure AI hever ’ad, hand were hit not for those fair girls there, hl could die hand be scalped with something hof an heasy con- science, But, hour fates all seem ’opeless. AI would take notes for my book hof hadventure did hI think AI would ’ave a scalp on a warm ’ead when hanother sun rises.” There was no ostentation in the Englishman’s talk. He was serious about his remarks. He was brave and fearless, and his words did not belie his spirit of courage, He admired the cool bravery and superior judgment of Lasso Jack; and, although he envied him thesmiles Rosalind . bestowed upon him, he accepted the situation with manly and heroic submission. Lasso Jack was satisfied that the Indians
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Lasso Jack. 5 would make another attack soon, and he could see no avenue of escape from a relentless mas- sacre, unless it was effected through stra’ But, even this seemed impossible. How could they mislead the foe there in plain sight upon the open prairie, with four score of panlliek eyes watching them? : All relayed into a hopeless silence. Lasso Jack became thoughtful and silent. He stood gazing reflectively upon the und, and toying with a nervous impatience with the haft of his knife. At last a grim smile lit up his bronzed, boyish face as he glanced toward the wagon under which the body of Captain Gray lay wrapped in a blanket; then turning to his com- panions, he said: ‘ ‘* Boys, I believe I have it—the by which we can esca It may fail, but if so, there will be no great loss nor risk. But I must have the consent of the maidens before I undertake to carry it out. So I will see them at once.” He turned and walked to the wagons wherein the maidens sat. In a few minutes he returned, and said: : “Tt is all right, friends; one of you saddle and bridle Captain Gray’s horse, and I will pro- ceed to put my scheme into execution.” One of the traders turned away to compl with his request, wondering, as did all the ; what the young mustanger’s intentions were. CHAPTER VIII. ‘“TreXAN TERROR” AND HIS MINIONS. Ovt upon the summit of a little swell in the rairie shout five hundred yards from the be- eagued party of Captain Gray—now, alas, no more !|—a of savages were gathered, watching with fiendish triumph the little circle of covered wagons. I said they were all sava- ges. This is true so far as humanity is con- cerned, but there were white renegades, half- breeds and Mexicans in the party. One tall dark-browed fellow, whose plumed hat and gold-embroidered serape told that he was leader of the band, stood gazing with grim, moody and sullen brow toward the feeble barricade of the whites. ““What think you, Don Diaz—can the whites hold out much longer?” a white ren e finally asked of Texan Terror, for as such was the prairie pirate, Don Juarez Diaz, known. “1 can’t see how they have held out as lon as they have,” the villain replied; “‘ but I woul like to knew what has become of the two spies sent into their camp the night they were en- camped on Clear Creek.” “ Probably they got their hair lifted,” replied renegade. ‘*Tt may be possible,” returned Texan Terror, ‘““but I hardly think they would permit them- selves to be caught. If I was sure they had en- sconced themselves in the traders’ wagons, among their bales and boxes, as they were in- tending to do, I could rest easy, and await the signal they were to give, but I declare I can’t wait much longer for their movements.” ‘* Tf Lasso Jack is still in their , it will be a hard matter for us to get into oy “Tt has been proven ,” said Texan Terror, ‘that they are fighters over there, but we must capture that train, no matter what it costs. It is worth considerable money, yet the literal value of the train would be not to me, to what the life of Captain Louis Gray would be.” ‘* Are you sure he is in the y, senor?” ‘“ Without a doubt, and if [ean once get my hands on him I will make his Te eS ae of my men that were hung by the sailors under his command, a year ago on the Maracopa. But I am satisfied our attacks of last night thin- ned out the enemy’s ranks some, unless they have a supply of water with them, the will soon have to succumb, or famish. Then know from the wounded horses they have turned loose, that they suffered some loss.” “Tf Sly Wolf and Brave Heart are in their camp, hidden in their wagons, and succeed in firing their wagons at the [ab ihe we may get + ony with but little more ble.” “Yes,” returned Diaz; ‘if I did not think they would do something soon, I would press the whites from all sides. I am sati we could carry their defenses easy enough by storm, but it would entail the loss of many of m command upon me; and perhaps, in the confli those pretty nieces of Captain Gray would get killed, and that would be the heaviest blow of all, for they are to be my portion of the plun- dered train.” ‘“We've got to capture it before we plunder it, captain,” said a half-breed; “ but, look yon- der, senor, I see smoke rising from the wagons now. Brave Heart and Sly Wolf must be at work. Caramba! See! see!” The party gazed away toward the circle of wagons. ey saw a dense column of smoke rising from the camp of the whites. Something had been set on fire, and the Mexicans and say- ages believed it was the beginning of the long- e ted movement of their spies, who, they not a doubt, were ensconced within the wagons. exan Terror raised his field-glass to his eyes and surveyed the Lares» camp, but the inter- vening wagons prevented him from seeing what was on fire, and what was going on. “*T can’t tell what is on fire in their camp, but let my braves and lancers be ready for any emergencies,” he said, “for I believe the crisis is coming.” The prairie freebooters stood pre to mount. Texan Terror gave the si to keep on the alert to his Comanche allies, grouped in a circle over the plain. Several minutes had when suddenly a horseman shot from the circle of wagons, and swept like an arrow over the plain. and away in pursuit. was after you—run him down—catc haired villain and a fine reward will be The next minute the whole party had leaped Mr eg their animals and were sweeping away like the wind over the prairie in pursuit of the fl horseman, Texan Terror taking the lead and outing at the to of his iron lungs. The Comanches stationed in small parties at various points around the wagons, saw what was going on, and they, too, mounted and shot away in pursuit. The Se was headed directly northward, and his white charger seemed like a snow-white bird skimming along the surface of the dark- em: prairie. But at times the rider seemed to ve no control over the beast, or was in doubt as 4 = tee Bee age swerve to the Hy or the left, thereby gi © pursuers muc - vantage, and at Pus tiiging them within gunshot of him. Still he swept on—on! And still the inhuman Texan Terror led on the chase. He was satisfied the itive was Captain Louis Gray, and he knew if he eluded them he would soon return with aid and raise ool siege, for he was headed directly toward ‘ort ——. - For pcr s Ba ge: mm bag oa the ee ees on it was no y the lynx-eyed pursuers the fugitive’s horse was unused to such se heats—that he was fast failing. He could hol out. but little longer. Victory would soon re- ward the pursuers’ efforts. The race continues. The fugitive seems to have hope. He sits erect in hissaddle. No fear | him; he never turns his head. Texan Terror is now ahead of his com ons several rods. He is almost up with Captain Gray. He will soon overtake True enough, a few minutes more and the Mexican freebooter dashes alongside of the fu- gitive! He puts out his hand and seizes the reins of the captain’s foaming steed, and then, as he brings both horses to a stop, he levels a pistol at the captain’s breast, and demands his surrender. But the captain never flinches—never speaks. e stares on in advance of him with stony eyes, and ghastly, haggard features. Texan Terror feels a epheg, tg assed creeping over him, for he sees that he been pursuing a dead man! He sees that Captain Louis Gray is dead— stone dead, and that he has been tied and prop- ped up on his animal's back. The followers of Diaz soon came up, and learned their great mistake with a cry of disap- pointment. te have been deceived, my friends,” Diaz said. ‘Yes, yes,” replied one of his men; “ Lasso Jack has again outwitted Juarez Diaz, the great Texan Terror.” The brow of the pirate chieftain knitted with suppressed and resentment, and his black eyes flashed with vengeful light; but he did not , for he knew his man had told what to him was a bitter truth. * Yes,” responded a Comanche chief, “‘ the have beaten us. They have turned a 5 horse loose upon the prairie with a dead man upon it. They have carried their point. The have drawn us away. When we return we wi find the rest of the train has escaped us.” ‘Then let us retrace our steps at once,” said Diaz. ‘‘ We may be in time to catch them yet. We should not all of us have left.” “One party of Comanches returned to watch the whites,” said a half-breed, ‘‘after they had ridden a few miles.” “Then we may get them et,” cried Diaz. “Come, spur up, men; ride, ride!’ They began retracing their ste detente were nearly exhausted, and it required long hours to regain the point where the race began. ut, a shout of triumph and joy pealed from their fi when they saw the wagon-train stand- ing just as they had left it. “But they soon dis- covered that thére was not a sign of life about it. They thought, however, this absence of life was another trick of the pale-faces, and so they kept their distance frcm the wagons, until they had become fully satisfied that the pale-face — was deserted | ith defeated hopes they approached the train. They reached the wagons, and dis- mounting, entered the inclosure of vehicles. There a fearful sight met their For 2 moment they stood and looked about them, with an ye of silenthorror. Dead men, black and bloated lay around them, and here and there the contents of the traders’ wagons were strewn in one promiscuous mass. At one side of the inclosure was a deep hole, that had been ream 2 dug, probabl — for the dead; but no difference whati been intended for, it had been abandoned. Here and there were heaps of ashes where boxes of taken from the traders’ ms: ed, no doubt to prevent their fall- into the enemies’ hands. However, there were three or four wagons Een. re contained part of their loads. This was mostly small kegs of rum and brandy. Texan Terror knew at once why these were left undisturbed, to fall into the Co- manches’ hands. It was to make drunk the enemy, and give the whites time to make good their escape, ere they could sober off. No sooner was the liquor discovered than the Comanches, the Mexicans, and renegade free- booters made a dash for it. The kegs were roll- ed out into the inclosure, the heads stove in with tomahawks, and the fiery contents down their throats like water. Diaz tried to in- duce them to drink moderately, but he might as well have tried to stay a hurricane. Some of them were so drunk they could not walk, and in less than half an hour, Texan Ter- ror was the only sober man in the party, and — he was intoxicated with and anger, and proceeded to empty every cept a& private flask full, which he put in his own pock- et—of the — out on the ground. For hours the pirate chief walked to and fro among the prostrate forms of the drunken men, cursing and ravin, A sg a madman, a em nasieing an giving a sa afurious kick, with Serie Genten foot. d it was no my to him that two or three of the pack had. = off the effects of the liquor, and were en- abled to walk straight again. When they did, Diaz put them to work, but by this time it was nearly sunset. The pirate chief had his minions harness their nies to the wagons of the emigrants, while the manches gathered ther al] the boxes, kegs and things strewn about and placed them in 2 wagene. The bodies of the dead, those that Diaz assassinated while they lay drunk, and those of the white traders and recruits, were also placed in a vehicle for removal to some other point. The pirate had an object in thus clearing the om of every trace of the late bloody conflict. e had learned that another train of great ue was coming in a few days, and by remov- ing all traces 0: Captain Gray’s disaster, they prey to the freebooters and Comanches. exan Terror felt satisfied that those of his band who had ped from the chase.of the lifeless Captain Gray, had returned and were in pursuit of the fugitives, who, judging from the number of their dead, could be but few. Of course, he knew the fugitives had taken Captain Gray’s nieces with them, and thus incumbecred, the villain had t —< the capture of the entire escort and their charge. In placing the slain whites in the wagon for removal, they were not a little startled to {nd
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they at once reco 6 Bead le’s HalfDime Library. among them the body of a dead Indian, whom i as one of their spies, Wolf. How he had been slain they knew not. When’ all was in readiness, the Mexicans drove the w s forward, keeping away from the road, and striking across the plain. They pushed on for several miles due west, then turn- ed northward until they came to a little grove of cottonwoods, in which they came to a halt. To still favor their inhuman work, a heavy shower, that lasted several minutes, fell shortly after dark, thereby assisting much in oblitera- ting their trail. CHAPTER IX. WHERE WAS ST. ELMO? LET us now go back and look after the youn mustanger, Henry St. Elmo, whom we left lying apparently lifeless on the bank of the cree The bullet of both the Comanche and Apache warriors had grazed his breast, inflicting a couple of painful flesh wounds. The two balls struck him at the same instant, with such stun- ning force, that he was stricken breathless and unconscious to the earth. Here in this state he lay during the conflict between the Comanche and Apache antagonists, and when the former | had gained the victory, and possessed himself of ‘his foe’s scalp, and started for his horse, our young friend heard his retreating footsteps, and thought his moment to act had come, so spring- ing to his feet, he took up his rifle and glided into a dense clump of bushes and vines, From this covert he watched the savage’s movements, for he had resolved that that horse should bear him to safety. Soon the Comanche returned, and having picked up the Apache’s arms, the red-skin came up to secure the scalp of the white. It was his last scalp-hunt, however, for the Comanche caught the gleam of the supposed dead man’s eye along his rifle-barrel, and before he could move a single muscle, the rifle cracked, and a bullet pierced his breast. With scarcely a cry, the warrior fell dead, while the young mustanger sprung from his covert and secured the animal. The ‘youth felt now, that he was, for the time being, safe. This mental ease and security toned down the excitement that had heretofore dead- ened the pain of his wound, and he experienced a sharp, stinging sensation through his breast. So he hite the mustang, and going down to the creek, he removed his hunting-shirt, and washed the blood and dust from his wounds. This done, he dressed the wounds as well as his means would permit, and experienced great relief from the pain and burning fever. When his wounds ‘were attended to, he pos- sessed himself of such of the Indian’s weapons as would likely prove of use to him, then mounted the mustang and rode away in a south-westerly direction. ‘ And now, when he had fully realized that he was safe once more from savage foes, his mind became occupied with thoughts that were almost agonizing. However, he felt easy so far | as his friend, Lasso Jack, was concerned. He | knew that the savages were not likely to get him unless aecident befell him; but what gaye him most. anxiety was the pre fe ee in meeting the idol of his heart, Mabel Garfield, whom he had promised to welcome at a speci- fied point and accompany to Sante Fe. The more he reflected on. the matter, the more har- rowing his feelings became; but at last he found consolation in the hope that Lasso Jack might have escaped and hastened to join Captain Gray’s party, and put them on their guard against the new dangers that had sprung up so suddenly along the emigrant trail. But what news would Jack give Mabel of his fate? As Jack knew nothing of his fate, and | doubtless would sup him dead, and so report to Mabel, he knew the train would not wait for him, but would continue on its way. By pur- suing his present course, he hoped to strike the trail in advance of the train, and then wait till it came up. The Indian’s pony was'a mettlesome one, and so he was enabled to journey on rapidly, in the course Which he thought would enable him to strike the wagon-trail at about the right point to bring him in advance of the train, consider- ing it was at Clear Creek that day, as he had received information that it would 43 He rode on, however, and the day advanced, | and at last the sun went down in a sea of fire. From the setting sun Henry took his bearings | for the night, and still rode sharply on, Dark- | ness soon fell, but the pain of his wounds and | the tumult of thoughts that were crowding his | excited, feverish brain, threw him into a kind of oblivious reflection, from, which he finally awoke to find he had lost his course, and was wandering at random over the great trackless prairie. He sincerely regretted this blunder, and cen- sured himself for committing it. His only course now was to wait till the moon came up, and take his direction anew from it, There was a lariat and picket-pin attached to | the trappings of the pony; so, dismounting, he staked the animal to grass, and then wrapping a blanket around himself, lay down upon the ound to wait and rest. He endeavored to eep awake, but, weak from loss of blood, exer- tion, and mental exhaustion, he fell into a sound slumber and slept for hours. The moon did not rise until nearly midnight, but when he awoke he found it was high in the heavens; and he had become so confused and be- wildered, so turned round, that he could not tell whether the moon was on the east or west side of the midnight meridian. So he was com- pelled to wait still longer, and when at last he got the points of the compass, he resumed his journey. Riding on till daylight, he found that he was owing weak with hunger, but he had no trou- le in finding a curlew, which he succeeded in killing. Then he struck a fire by means of a match and some dry sticks that he found by a little stream. Dressing the bird, he soon roast- ed it, and made a sumptuous meal thereon, hay- | ing some left for future need. eeling ‘Sava refreshed, he resumed_ his journey. © e on and on all day, without reaching the wagon-route along which Captain Gray and his party were expected to pass. This convinced him he was lost again upon that trackless waste of prairie, and when darkness again set in, he tied his pony out to grass, and threw himself upon the ground with a feeling akin to despair. He had found, by this time, that a year upon the prairies of Texas had done little toward familiarizing him with the topog- raphy of that trackless country. e night was in restlessness and troubled dreams, and on the following morning mn aig resumed his journey in a new course, i y he traveled over the boundless ocean of | verdure without seeing a sign of life, unless it | was a skulkin: these always had a tendency to impress a lone hunter or traveler with an air of desolation, Night again set in, but Henry resolved to keep moving. He saw that his success in strik- ing the trail now depended entirely upon fate. The night wore slowly on. The moon finally came up and threw a bright, mellow light over the plain, that was dream-like in, its inspira- tion. , : Still Henry St. Elmo rode on. But hark! A sound suddenly breaks upon his EF sound that seems to come from spirit- and. His animal stopped, pricked up its ears and sniffed the air with affriht. Henry bent his head and listened. He started. He heard a cry—a human cry—as if imploring help, and yet coming from out the realms of | Nowhere. He gazed around him and above him, but he could see nothing but the starry sky and the murky plain. Might he not be mistaken? He listened again. Again he heard that cry. Whence did it come? It was a strange cry, and at times it was low and sepulchral, and seemed to issue from the bowels of the earth. He rode on a few paces, then turned and rode | round and round in a circle; still he could find nothing. He was satisfied the voice did not emanate from beyond the circle he had des- cribed. But there was something a little mys- terious about it, for the ground was smooth as a lawn, and the grass upon it so short that a bird or squirrel could not have hid within it. Again that cry or call! It was nearer him than_ before, and still | seemed to come from far down in the earth. The young mustanger felt a curious sensation creep over him, and as he sat Mp his pon gazing around him like one bewildered, a sud- en and involuntary ery burst from his lips, as he caught sight of an object, plainly revealed by the broad glare of the moon. A few paces to the right of him, in the short grass, was a small, circular spot, covered with what seemed to be the ashes of a camp-fire, and from the center of that spot ahuman hand and arm were thrust upward through the earth! It was asmall hand, white as snow, and upon one of the fingers something flashed like a tiny speck of fire. What did itmean? A human hand, white as coyote or solitary raven, and | knob marble—a woman’s hand and arm, without a doubt—thrust upward from the earth, there in the midnight solitude of that wild Texan prairie? CHAPTER X. A QUEER BURIAL. Tre reader has doubtless, inferred, to a cer- tain extent, what the plans of the young mus- tanger, Lasso Jack, were that he had conceived for outwitting and escaping from the horde of savages and prairie freebooters that hung around them upon the plain like groups of hungry vultures. The first to be done was to bind the body of Captain Gray upon his wild, spirited horse and turn it loose upon the pee, feeling confident that the savages would pursue him, and thus create a diversion in their favor. It was an un- christian use to make of the dead, but it was a. dire necessity to the living; it was the only avenue to escape from an indiscriminate mas- sacre—to save the lives of the two fair, helpless. girls from a tory ai captivity. But, even Lasso Jack would have refrained. from using the remains of the captain for such a purpose, had he not received the consent of the agonized sisters in the matter, as also, their een in all his plans for their rescue. fter his interview with the maidens, Jack returned to his friends and made known to them his plans, Every man then went to work. In the first place a number of boxes belonging to the trad- ers’ wagons were emptied of their contents and burned in two or three different places within the inclosure. Then a spade—used. by the trad- ers for trenching their tents—was produced and one of the men set to work removing the sod from over a space about four feet square. This would require great pains and mechanical precision, for the sod was to be replaced so as to conceal every trace of its having been dis- turbed, When the sod was lifted the trader be- gan digging downward, throwing the dirt away about fifteen feet from the hole. Lasso Jack, Dan Dorne, and. the other trader were busily engaged, in the meantime, prepar- ing tosend the captain’s body away over the plain upon his spirited horse as soon as other arrangements were completed, It was a sad, sad duty to perform, but the only resource to- save the lives of Mabel and Rosalind. i Sir George Richardson having been sent into one of the traders’ wagons to empty a large box, entered at the front end of the wagon, and in order to reach the box in question he would be compelled to remove several er ones that intervened. This he at once proceeded to do, lifting the boxes. and, throwing them out. Some of them, containing costly fabrics, were covered with a heavy blanket to insure the en- trance of no dust or water into the boxes. This blanket Sir. George seized hold of to re- move, but_ the very instant that his hand came in contact. with it, an involuntary cry burst from his lips, and he withdrew his hand as quick as though the blanket had been a red-hot sheet of a? jor beneath it he felt some living thing move For a moment thé Englishman hesitated. He believed that a huge serpant had got into the wagon some way or other,and had ensconced it- self under the blanket. But, no time was to be lost. in idle speculation. Every moment was precious now, for an im- nding fate was hanging over the heads of the fit So he turned around and taking tle yeak £ | up his gold-headed cane, that. he had placed in the front end of the wagon on entering, he: asped it in the middle with the left d.., en he gave it a quick wrench, and the gold from the wood and was followed | by a long, glittering dagger that appeared from the hollow staff. Raising the polished weapon in an attitude of defense, he took hold of the blanket again, and quickly drew it aside. He started with blank surprise, and for a mo- ment his face seemed to wear an expression of terror, for, there before him, he beheld a Co- manche Indian lying curled up among the boxes like a young cub bear! j No sooner, however, did the cunning savage see that he had been discovered than he sprung to his feet and attempted to escape from the wagon, knowing. that. resistance would be use- less. As he sprung apast Sir George, he endea- vored to bury a hatchet_in his brain, but the Englishman dodged the blow and at the same time drove the blade of his dagger to the guards in the savage’s breast. With a wild, unearthly scream the doomed wretch leaped from the wagon, ran a few paces. and fell dead.
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His screams created a momentary excitement among Sir George’s friends, but he soon explain- ed the whole matter, adding—as he returned hi dag r to the hollow staff of his eane: ‘That counts the first red-skin forme. hAlIt his decidedly wondrous what hamount of serpent like cunning these red-men hof hAmerica pos- sess, decidedly wondrous.” So saying, he resumed his work of removing the boxes, while his friends returned to theirs. He soon reached the large box, which he at once broke open and emptied of its contents. When this was accomplished, he rolled the box from the wagon, and with the assistance of one of his friends, carried it to where the trader was making the excavation in the ground. The box was then measured and the hole dug of sufficient length, depth and breadth to receive it. It required but a few minutes to fit the box in the ground, the top about six inches below the surface of the ground. This done, the English- man covered the bottom and lined the sides of the box with some of the traders’ cloths. S The horse with the lifeless body of Captain Gray upon it, was now led around a wagon where it could not be seen by the maidens, who Were now taken from their wagon and conduct- ed to the buried box. ae “ There, girls,” said Lasso Jack, pointing to the neatly furnished box, ‘is your only resort for escape. In that box we hope to cover you so that you will escape the savages until I can bring assistance to your release.” a 4 hope,” said Mabel, sorrowfully, ‘it will not prove a living tomb.” : ‘““T am sure it would be preferable to Indian captivity,” said. Rosalind. ‘No, no, Miss Garfield,” said Jack; “‘ you need have no fears. We will arrange it so you will experience no inconvenience for want of fresh air, We will supply you with water and food to last you until I come back, which may be to- night; if not, by to-morrow noon at furthest.” ‘But, suppose you should never return—not one of you?” said ind, sadly. “When sufficient time for our return has elapsed and none of us appear, then you can makeiods own escape from the box. We will cover it so that you can release yourselves. We will place a thin layer of sod and turf over you, and if you should be compelled to release your- selves, take the road and follow it westward. About wie if Br from here you will come upon an old Mexican ranchero,’ who will un- doubtedly assist you. There is scarcely a doubt but that I will be back within the time stipu- lated. Tf you could only stand the ride, I would take you along now, but eae hina could not. This box retreat, girls, is your salvation.” “Oh, Jack!” exclaimed Rosalind, ‘‘ you have been more than a friend to us, and if ever we escape, we will forever owe you a debt of grati- tude.’ ‘No, no, Rosalind, you need never feel under obligations tome. It is a duty that I owe to my fellow-beings to aid them im time of. need, But time, my dear young ladies, is precious, and we must improve it.” He took ind by the and assisted her down into the box. Then, as he was about to withdraw his hand, she raised her head and their eyes met in one last, aye 3 gaze, that told of the silent communion of their youn, hearts, Jack pressed her little, soft han gently, and then, as he withdrew it, he deftly slipped a gold ring upon one of her tapering fingers, saying: * Will you accept it, and wear it?” “ For your sake, Jack,” and tears that told of a new-born hope, gathered in the maiden’s eyes. Mabel was assisted to Rosalind’s side. Their retreat was quite roomy, and they, found they would not be cram great deal, They could sit or lie comfortab y but the hight of the box would not admit of their standing. Water was given them in a stone jug, with an ample supply of provision to several days. Now came the work of cl the top: The covering was of heavy board, in these, sev- eral round holes were cut, and powder-horns with both ends open inserted therein, with the small ends pointing upwarne These were to be ventilators to the maidens’ retreat. With sad and heavy hearts, Lasso Jack and Sir George carefully placed the covering over the box; then, with the greatest precision the sod and turf were placed upon this; great care being taken that the mouth of the powder-horns were not closed up, yet concealed from the closest observation by tan ling grass over them. In digging the pit, the diggér had made such caleulations that the box would be let in the Lasse Jack. ground below the surface just the thickness of the sod, so that when it was replaced there would be no irregularities on the outer surface. When the job was completed, Jack placed his lips to the mouth of one of the horns that pro- truded half an inch above the surface of the ground, and asked: “Have you plenty of air, down there girls?” “Yes, sir,” Rosalind’s voice responded, ‘“‘ it is dark, but very comfortable. We can see of daylight through the horns,” “How are you going to conceal this dirt, Jack?” asked one of the traders; ‘the savages will know it was brought here, and will nose around till they find the hole it came out of.” ““We can easily remedy that,” said Jack; ‘‘ dig another hole and throw. the dirt upon this pile. The savages will never dream but that it came out of the same hole.” “* By St. George, Jack!” exclaimed Sir George, ‘vou ’ave an ’ead, hon you that is remarkable for hits horiginality, you ’ave.” The hole was at once dug as Jack requested, then the young mustanger turned to Old Dan and said: “* Now let the horse out, Dan, and give him a keen cut with the whip, to start him away. The yells of the savages will soon rise and keep him going.” The next moment the fine, Captain Gray, with its grim, lifeless rider, was outside of the circle of wagons, and flying over the plain at a wild, break-neck speed. **Now, boys, mount your horses and prepare to leave,” said Lasso Jack; then he turned, and oing back to where the maidens were, he dropped upon his knees, and applying his mouth to one of the horns, said: He lingered “God speed y Lasso Jack, ‘our only ho now lays in the of our horses, and»let every one of you ride, ride for your lives!” CHAPTER XI. BIG BEAR LOSES HIS GAME. Ir was the day following that of our friends’ escape from the wagon corral on the plain. Across the great Texan prairie, to the North- ward of the scene of Captain Gray’s disaster, a solitary individual was making his way on foot. Across his shoulder he carried a rifle... A b of pistols were in his girdle, alongside of his hunt- ing-knife. is collar was thrown massive chest, that was the pent-up emotions of fear and anxiety. cap was pushed ..back from a_ fine, intellectual brow, that was streaming with perspiration, for it was a hot, midsummer day. He was a young man, apparently posseased of inexhaustible endurance, and the elasticity of an antelope. The youthful pedestrian was our hero, Lasso Jack, the young mustanger. P As before stated, it was the day followin that of his m the wagon-corral, tha we find him journeying on foot over the plain, and yet he had not been to the fort where he e ted to find aid for the rescue of Rosalind and Mabel. : : His horse had fallen dead under him from a riding , but, never faltering, he pressed on, on foot. But the brave youth was soon doomed to meet with another disappointment. He was discov- ered by a party of savages, and made a narrow escape from capture, by taking to a little grove where he was compelled to remain conceal for hours, each of which seemed an agg, so great was his anxiety for the rescue. of ‘the maidens that he had left buried on the plain, At length he managed to escape, under cover of darkness, and pursue his onward course: but his detention by the savages, and loss of his horse, had thrown him several hours behind, which it would require superhuman exertions to regain. It was past noon, and he was some ten miles from his destination, when he suddenly detected ern Site | | And now arose the B ittted stecd-of.|. the | | race | 7 a slight noise like the far-off roll of thunder. But knew it was not thunder, for the sky was cloudless. J He turned and swept the horizon. He start- = —_ an exclamation of surprise burst from ps. Far away upon the plain, to the southward | of him, he saw a band of horsemen, galloping down toward him, a dark cloud of dust hang- ing over them. ey were over two miles away, yet it was easy for one accustomed to the prairies as was Lasso Jack, to see that it was a band of savages. Naor had they discov- ered him? or were they 8 Sera d some of his friends that he had left behind? He could arrive at no definite conclusion on either question, and was at a loss to know what course to pursue. Heknew flight would be use- less, so he threw himself down in the tall prai- rie-grass, and tangled it carefully over him. In this position, with his ear pressed closely to the ground, the young mustanger could plain- ly hear the clatter and feel the vibratory shock of the horses’ hoofs; and now a new fear took ee of him—a fear that he would be pled to death beneath the pounding hoofs. ut we must now leave our hero, and change scene of our story for a short time. Far away to the southward a band of some thirty Comanche Indians were halted in a little clump of cottonwood trees, gazing out upon the broad prairie that stretched its unbroken length away leagues to the northward. They were all well mounted upon fine, clean- lim and spirited mustang ponies. They were armed with rifles, tomahawks aud knives, i it was evident they were not a war-party. eir lariats, and other trappings told that es were a party of hunters in pursuit of wild orses. As they stood in the edge of the grove and gazed away to the northward of them, it was not the prairie and its romantic beauty that at- tracted their attention, for they had seen it a hundred times before, but it was a herd of wild horses that were grazing upon it about a quar- ter of a mile away. ‘*Look! Do my braves see the herd of wild horses whose leader is White Lightning?’ asked the leader of the party who was known as Big Bear, a name very suggestive from his short, burly appearance, in which the animal propensi- ties were fully developed. His companions responded in the affirmative as, with eyes, they gazed upon the herd grazing upon the plain before them. There were over a hundred in the herd, of all ages and colors, Standing.a little to one side was a white stud, that seemed to be performing theduties of sentinel; for his head was erect his massive neck arched, and his ears pricked up as though in the attitude of extreme vigi- ce. He was a noble-looking animal—a per- fect picture, with mane and tail sweeping to the He was known by the savages as hite Lightning, a name suggested by his won- derful swiftness and instinct in detecting ap- roaching danger. A hundred. times, perhaps, the Comanches endeavored to capture him, but -—~ 5 found no horse in their corrals suffi- ciently fleet to accomplish it. But, finally Big Bear had the luck to steal, from a ban of Apaches, a horse that had long been noted for its speed, and upon this animal he set*out, accompanied by = eng of his braves, deter- mined to capture ite Lightning. For days they been in search of the herd with which he ran, and not until the present hour had they been able to get sight of him. They were to the leeward of the herd, yet ite this advantage, the noble beast seemed suspicious of danger. “Let my warriors mount a pre d to re for purstie ou can if it should ‘turn either utr be northward is long, and un White ay There is none on the p e lasso, will ride the wild steed first. If he is honest, as Big Bear is, to-morrow he will come into my lodge and give me his scalp; for I am as certain of capturing the white steed as Iam that my eyes see him now. Big Bear has spoken. Let my braves follow.”
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8 did, they pricked up their ears, gave a snort of affright, and dashed away to the northward, their hoof-strokes sounding like the dull, inces- sant roar of thunder. White Lightning took the lead of the herd, and as he swept onward, he presented a noble picture with his small head turned slightly to one side, his red nostrils dilated with terror and his mane and tail streaming out on the wind like a tg banner of white. ig Bear gained rapidly on his companions and the stragglers of the herd. Mile after mile was left behind in an incredibly short time. A long, serpent-like cloud of dust hanging on the air behind, marked the trail of the hunters. For an hour they swept on. Many of the fee- bler ones of the herd were passed, but the Co- manches paid no attention to these. White Lightning was the sole object of that chase. ith eager eye Big Bear watched the flyi steed, and his heart beat wildly with a feeling o' joy and triumph when he saw he was gaining on the snowy steed. He pressed his animal to its utmost, and with: its great, heavy burden the beast fairly flew over the plain, now gaining on the fugitive steed at every bound. Nearer and nearer the Comanche chief ap- proached to the one object of the race. Closer and closer his clashing hoofs sounded—now so close that the dust and dirt were flung back in his face—so close that he could almost reach him with his lasso. The emotious of the savage chieftain became wild as he gained steadily upon the fugitive. And at length the moment for action came. The raw-hide lasso shot from the Indian’s hands with a quick “whir” toward the steed. True to its aim, the fatal noose fell over the head of the wild horse and was gradually drawn taut around his throat. The Comanche now reined in his animal by slow degrees until he finally brought it to a stand. The wild beast reared and plunged madly, my the air with his feet and snort- ing fiercely, but his efforts only served to tighten the rope about his neck, and at last he made a desperate lunge, gasped and fell to the earth, choked down As none of his friends had yet come up, Big Bear s — from his ani and ga heavy vlan et from his saddle, he advanced toward the fallen beast, to throw it over his head, but before he could reach the animal, a figure sprung from the , deary his feet and dealt Pe yay Shee upon the that sent him half blinded to the earth. A yell burst from his lips, followed by the ery, “ Lasso Jack! Lasso Jack!” "te was, indeed, Lasso Jack, who had sprung so suddenly from the grass near where the cap- tured White Lightning lay. Dealing Big Bear a second blow as he attempted sg! feet, and giving his horse a severe dig with his drawn careering Lightning was free, and, as it gained its breath it stru gled to its feet. its iol ‘ The young mustanger had mounted the wild, unconque steed as he rose to his feet. The beast made two or three efforts to throw the rider off, but in vain. Jack sat as firm as though he had been a part of the horse himself and his extemporized bridle gave him a means of steering his infuriated steed into any desired course. “‘ Good-day, my dear Big Bear,” Jack shouted back to fee indian as the steed dashed away; “T hav’n’t got time to take your scalp to-day, but I’ll see you another—” The rest of the sentence was lost to the ears of the defeated, dumbfounded savage, by the distance that had so suddenly separated the enemies. Big Bear had been robbed of his game, In the very moment of his triumph, he had met with shame, defeat. And, as he stood and watched the young mustanger flying away into the dis- tance upon White Lightning, his rage and anger knew no bounds, CHAPTER XII. IN DESPAIR. THE oe of the two sisters, Rosalind and Mabel Garfield, can better be imagined provealiving tomb. They knew the dangers to which Lasso Jack and his companions would be exposed, and that there was nothing certain that they would reach the fort alive. After Jack had bid them good-by, they sat and listened to the faint sounds transmitted through the powder-horn ventilator. They heard the retreating hoof-strokes of their friends’ horses, then all became silent as the grave. The sisters sat waiting in breathless suspense, expecting each moment to hear the savages come to take possession of the deserted camp. Hours wore away thus waiting. At last they hear the thumping jar of hoofs upon the plain mingled with the sound of excited voices that ually deepen into savage yells of triumph. he maidens tremble with fear and suspense. They can hear their horses’ footsteps as they walk about from place to as and once a low, suppressed cry esca) bel’s lips, for they hear the dull thud of a hoof on the turf direct- ly over them; they feel the fine dirt sift through on their hands and face, and hear the boards over them creak. Fear takes ion of them —a fear that a savage will ride upon the turf above them and break through into their re- treat and crush them. But they soon find relief from these fears. The savages on to the operas side of the inclosure, yet they are not so far away but what they can hear them talking in fierce, vindictive tones that are finally mingled with Phan of tri- umph, the crashing of boxes, and the bursting open of rum and brandy k The sisters know what is to follow. They know there was liquor in the traders’ wagons, and that a drunken row was sure to be the re- sult of its discovery. They permis § breathe through fear of being heard, for they know they are in imminent Pec and they shudder to think what would be their fate were they to be “Bours go by. ‘Th hear the savages rs go by. ey can hear the sa charging about in drunken revel, but at length they grow quieter and quieter till the camp —— ene by ems 4 person, bce they can still hear, walking about, cursing an raving like a madman at his drunken com- It was Juarez Diaz, the Texan Terror, but the AS length they bogies) Tile 'yos e ear voices and know that the savages are awakening m a drunken sleep. They hear words of command given by an authoritative voice. It is to harness animals to the wagons, — up the strewn articles and put them in the wagons. The maidens soon distinguished the rattling of harness chains; then followed a rumbling and crunching of wagon-wheels. Their hearts gave a great, joyful for they knew the savages were lea Soon all was silence, and the sisters breathed easier, for they realized that they had made a narrow escape from discovery. ‘Thank !” exclaimed Mabel, ‘‘ they are gone at last—after an age of fear and sus- ‘© Yes, and now we can ee for release soon, dear sister,” replied Rosalind, ‘‘for it must be nearly if not altogether night.” ‘© Look up through one of those holes over your head d, and perhaps you can tell whether it is dark or not.” Rosalind felt about for the mouth of one of the horns, and when she had found it she a plied her eyes to the orifice, but all was dark- ness where but a short time ago she could see a faint ray of —_ , “Tt is —_ it is night, Mabel,” cried Rosa- lind, joyfully. ‘Lasso Jack and Dan will soon be here with assistance to relieve us.” Mabel’s heart fluttered jo y at her sister’s words of encouragement—the hope of soon be- ing free, but when her mind reverted to Henry St. Elmo, she almost wished she was in her ve, for what would life be to her without ¢ But, finally she said, seeing Lasso Jack had awakened a deep interest in Rosalind’s young heart: “Lasso Jack is a noble, brave fellow, Rosa- lind, and I cannot see how one so free-hearted and enthusiastic as you are can help admiring him. I know he is your style of—” ‘“Why—why, Mabel, what do you mean?” stammered Rosalind, confusedly. ‘“*T mean what I say, you little hypocrite. Do you think that you can conceal from me your admiration for 0 Jack?” ‘You surprise me, Mabel, but I will frankly was dead, as it did to you of Henry, not sayin that I love Jack more than you did Henry. never knew what love was till I met Jack, and now I can i ine how you suffer at heart, Ma- bel; yet I feel certain Henry is not dead. Some- thing tells me so.” “Oh, if I knew he lived I could wait here a month, Rosalind, for his coming, but I am—” “Hark, Mabel! what noise is that?” The sisters listened. They heard a slight noise like that of falling rain, and after they had lis- tened several minutes, then all relapsed into si- lence again. The sisters waited anxiously for the coming of Lasso Jack to their rescue, for they were fully satisfied that night had long since set in. They ate some of their food, not, however, because they were hungry, but to give themselves the strength they knew they would need when their friends came to take them away. But, the hours wore on and no one came. Still they waited and waited, but allin vain. They knew that the night was almost spent, and their hitherto bright Lopes began to prow clouded.# Then they thought that perhaps Jack had been detained, but would yet come. And still the hours sped. At last Rosalind ap- plied her eyes to their small look-out, and a cry of delight burst from her li ‘What is it sister?’ questioned Mabel. ** The night has and a new day dawned. Oh, Mabel! I fear something dreadful has hap- pened Jack and his friends! ‘Let us hope for the best, sister,” replied Ma- bel; ‘‘they may have only been detained in get- ing to the fort. _We should not despair yet.” ey ate their breakfast and whiled away the time in recounting the trials of their journey and the bitter experiences of their young lives. But, as the hours wore away, each one grew longer and longer to the impatient sisters. At noon a faint Frege of ine—a mere thread of light, ike a ray of hope, struggled down through one of the m horns, whose mouth was inclined a little southward, into their dark retreat. But when that faint thread of sunshine melted away, they knew the sun had crossed the meridian and was declining west- ward, and from that minute their spirits began to Pere oe “i ey wai or several more weary hours, un- til they knew it must be nearly night; then Ros- e alind’s courage gave way, and burst fort almost in despair: rs “ “Mabel, they are not coming. They have been slain or captured! We have got to esca from here and take our chances of reaching the haciendo of the old ranchero spoken of by Jack.” ‘*We could never reach there alive, little sis- ter!” moaned Mabel. ‘Oh, may Heaven aid us in this trying hour?’ “Shall we not pe remove this covering over us, Mabel?” Rosalind. ‘*Yes,” cried Mabel; ‘let us get out of this place into the open air, or I shall suffocate!” Rosalind placed her hands against the boards that supported the covering of turf and sod, and endeavored to push them upward, but her feeble strength was inadequate to the task. She could not move them. ‘*Mabel, you will have to assist me,” she said. Mabel came to her assistance, and ther they pushed upward on the boards with all their uni srengtts but they might just as well have endeavored to lift up the dome of a rocky per yg Po they could not move it. Again and again they tried it, but without success, and at last they gave it up and’ sunk down with a ery of despair. Oh. vee, Sperm Rosalind, we are inclosed in a living tomb—buried alive!’ moaned Mabel. “Do not—oh, do not talk so, Mabel!” replied Rosalind; ‘let us hope for a more pleasant fate —a more comfortable death-bed!” ‘* We can not deny the plain yet terrible truth, Rosalind. How are we to escape from here? Surely by no effort of our own, and without a doubt those who know we are buried here are powerless—if not dead—to help us.” ‘Let us rally our courage, and to look at the bright side of the fr even il we are in a dungeon, You see I have the hunting-knife that Jack gave me to slice our venison with. With it I can probably gong one of the holes overhead, then we can reach out and remove the sod, block by block, as it was placed “we us. In this way, We may yet escape from ere, “True, true, Rosalind. It is well you are not as thoughtless as I am; but then you know it is my nature, sister, to fret and give right up,
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even when I should be the most determined and resolute.” Drawing one of the horns from its ve Rosa- lind be to enlarge the hole in the box-lid. But she soon found a hopeless task. The wood was hard almost as iron, and her feeble strength, and that of Mabel, were unable to complete the job before them. At least, it would uire hours of incessant labor. But, without a despairing murmur, she worked away, being relieved occasionally by Mabel. Thus, for hours, the sisters worked on, but they found their diligence had been poorly re- warded, for the hole had been enlar, just sufficiently to enable Rosalind to put her hand and arm out. This the maiden did, and with the knife she shaved the dirt and sod away, until the hole was of uniform size to the surface of the ground or sod above them. . They were enabled to see out now od ey: They beheld a number of stars twinkling in t. blue dome of heaven. They put their hands out and felt the cool evening wind upon them. It made them long for its freedom, and renewed their hopes. y And so Rosalind be, eli ping away at their prison door, but in the midst of her labor, she gave the knife a sudden wrench, and snap the steel blade in two. With this accident faded all their hopes of escape, and both again sunk down in despair. They threw their arms about each other’s neck, and burst into an agony of tears. But in the midst of their bitter emotions, a sound sud- denly rushed athwart the darkness. It was a sound that caused them to start and choke down their sobs and listen. They recognized the sound as the tread of a horse’s hoofs, and the clink of a bit-ring. The fear of perishing in their retreat over- balanced all other fear and ee and at the top of her lungs Rosalind called for help. Then they listened for the result. They could still hear the eae of hoofs above them, mov- ing about oy Py y ina circle around them. ‘Tt must a friend, Mabel,” said Rosalind, in a whisper. “It may be, but it is none of those that left war or ee they Aaeag) ae be gr i about, apparently, searching for the spo ‘What had we better do? “Why not call again, then put out your hand to show him where we are,” replied Rosalind called to the unknown horseman again, then she bravely thrust her hand and arm out at the opening, in hopes of attracting attention. The next moment after she had withdrawn her a they heard a soft footstep approach- em. en a dark shadow fell across their look-out overhead. Gazing out, Rosalind saw the of a man standing over their retreat, plainly outlined against the starry sky, and it was now that it occurred to her that it might be an Indian war- rior or prairie freebooter, and the thought sent the blood, in icy currents, back to her stout young heart. CHAPTER XIII. THEY ARE GONE. A BAND of some fifty horsemen broke camp on the San Saba, at daybreak, and pushed their course southward, at a y speed. They were all well mounted, armed alike, and wore the uniform of the United States soldiers. In fact, it was a detachment of soldiers, a part of Captain Louis Gray’s command, that had been sent out from Fort —— to punish a band of Comanches and freebooters, under the notori- ous Texan Terror, that had to get south of them, and were raiding and murdering jet ager and emigrants along the overlan trail. They had only been out one day’s ride from the fort, but now as they galloped onward over the plain, they expected any minute to b them in sight of a party of the marauding foe. They felt perfectly secure, even against odds, for the superiority of their horses and weapons would give them a decided advantage in an open Pirhe Dae oes nly af e on, stopping only a few min- utes to noon, andas the on was near its setting, Lieutenant Jourdan descried a horseman some distance to the southward, riding directly to- ward them, at a fearful speed. : The lieutenant at once ordered a halt, and his men into iol re he knew nod bat that it ye a fugitive flying from a band of savages. Bu in this they were happily disappointed. for they soon discovered the horseman was entirely Lasso Jack. alone. They saw that he was mounted upon a spirited, snow-white horse, without ae or bridle, and seemed to have but little control over the animal’s movements. On he came, now so close, that the rangers could disti his form and features. It was the renowned youth, Lasso Jack, the young mustanger. A shout pealed from pag Fg for, of all pee my the presence of Lasso J was most de- sirable. As he came still nearer, they saw that his horse, a beautiful white mustang, with flowing white mane and tail, was foaming with sweat, and unmanageable with fear and affright, the little dreaming it was the renowned wild dee wae Lightning, with its first rider upon its When he discovered the as Lasso Jack exerted his utmost to check the flying steed; but he found it was a task likely to uire some trouble and exertion. He determined he would not lose the animal, for he found, by experience, that it was the fastest he had ever backed. Reaching forward, he passed his hands alon the animal’s neck, permitting them to exten gradually to his head, then down to his muzzle, when a grasped the beast by the nose and closed his nostrils. In this manner the noble beast was soon smoth- ered down, and came to a full stop, before he had uite reached the rangers. Then, with the lasso that was still looped around his nose, the young mustanger made a slip-noose, passed it inside the mouth, and over the lower jaw, and in a moment more, White Lightning was in the power of Lasso Jack. The youth now proceeded, in the true manner of the wild-horse: er, to conquer and bring its wild spirit into gentle submission. This he ina great measure accomplished, ere the rangers came up, for in the management of the wild horse, there were none in the South-west that could excel Lasso Jack. ‘*Hello, Jack Clarkson, what does all this mean?” questioned Lieutenant Jourdan, as they galloped up. + tee t White Lightning, at last, lieuten- ant,” replied Lasso Jack, ‘“‘and I tell you he came in good play at a good time, too.” ‘““Why, what is the matter, Jack? Anything wron “Wrong!” exclaimed Jack; “‘ yes, the whole Comanche nation is an accursed wrong! Itisa God-send that I have met you here. The red devils have been doing their worst.” ‘* What have they been doing, Jack?” 4 Have a a all but sore of a t —- and-twenty persons, an ptain ray was one of the killed.” ‘Great God! is this possible, Jack?’ cried Lieutenant Jourdan, while exclamations of sur- prise and sorrow passed from lip to lip of the men. Jack briefly narrated the adventures of the pony upon the plain, the terrible siege of the and death of most of its noble defenders, and how their escape was finally effected, after they had concealed the captain’s nieces in a box under The rangers received the terrible news with sad hearts, for they dearly loved Captain Gray. After he had concluded his story, Lieutenant Jourdan asked: ‘* Have ” hs any hopes of the girls’ escaping very?” “T have, lieutenant. But, they mer. only es- cape discovery by the sav to perish in a liv- ing tomb. I was to have been back this morn- ing at furth to relieve them. I hope, for heaven’s sake, Jourdan, you will take your men and go with me to their rescue.” **Of course I will, Jack; mount your horse and lead the way. re “Thank God!” exclaimed Jack; then with but little difficulty he mounted his trembling, con- que steed, and heading him southwar - loped sharply away, with Lieutenant Jo = side, and his rangers following close be- Riles they were fairly under way, Jourdan “Where are the rest of your friends that es- caped?” ‘I cannot say. I left them all far behind after we esca) our breastwork of wagons. Old Dan Dorne was among them.” ‘"Old Dan Dorne! As brave a man as ever pulled trigger. I hope we will meet them all.” “T am d the chances are inst them,” said Jack, ‘‘for a score of Comanche devils were after them.” ‘** And how came you aboard of White Light- ning?” : Pee “ After our escape from the wagon-corral I rode on until my horse fell d under me. Then I took it on foot. While thus journeying I saw a band of Comanches riding a to- ward me; and to escape a if ball riot been already, I threw myself in tall : The savages proved to be a party in pursuit of wild horses, and one of them, the notorious Big Bear, succeeded in lassoing this horse, just as he came up to where I lay, The horse was thrown within three feet of me. I knew I would be discovered if I remained there, so I sprung to my feet. I knocked Big Bear down, cut the lasso that held White Lightning, and as he rose to his feet, I sprung upon his back, and away we shot like a meteor over the plain, in exactly the direction I wanted to go.” a Bag sr you ran a wonderful risk of your life, Jack!” ‘Yes, lieutenant, and all for those two fair girls buried on the plain, miles from here.” “ee " ater see you are—” ** Look ae ahead! A horseman!” broke in one of the rangers, in a stentorian voice. True enough, a horseman was observed riding toward them, swinging his hat in a manner to attract attention from the rangers. The party rode on until they met him. To their joy and rise it was old Dan Dorne. He was flushed with excitement, and his horse about exhausted with hard riding. “ Hullo, Jack, lieutenant and friends! Glad to meet you, by heavens I am!” the old hunter- guide exclaimed, meee out of of breath, before either of the others could “Why, Dan? What is it? What’s up?’ “The devil’s to pay, Jack. Sir George Rich- ardson is a willin’ prisoner—has turned traitor to us, and at this holy minute he and Texan Terror are goin’ back to git the gals we left con- cealed in the bow on the plain “Great God!” exclaimed Jack, in accents of despair, ‘‘ then the girls are lost, lost! But, Dan, I can. hardly believe Sir George is such a vil- **T could hardly b’lieve it either, fur awhile, but it’s so, Jack. EE ue evidence have you to substantiate the ‘The evidence of my own eyes and ears,” re- turned Dan. There could be no doubt of his story now, for Dorne was known to be a man of truth, and to never circulate reports that he could not prove. “Then let us ride ers, for heaven’s sake,” said Jack; ‘‘I wish I could discredit Dan’s story, but who ever knew him to be at fault in such matters?” “ Forw men, forward!” exclaimed Lieu- tenant Jo and the next instant the whole band went sweeping away at a gallop over the plain. Old Dan Dorne accompanied them. The emotions of Lasso Jack now were any- thing but pleasant. The thought of Sir George t traitor and going back with the inhu- his heart with bitter anguish and. apoulaite fa with bitter ish and agonizi = — He knew there were grounds for Sir rge’s conduct—that he had been very atten- tive to and that attention amounted to more than mere try. Yet, he never dreamed that his , open manhood and mor- al courage could descend so low in the scale of manliness as to turn traitor and take sides with such an inhuman foe as Texan Terror, in order to obtain by force, that which he could not ob- tain by a free, open course of honesty and right. The party rode sharply on and at dark struck the wagon-trail about ten miles from where the maidens had been concealed. T the trail bo ga on by twos, Jack and Lieutenant Jo keeping the Jead. The moon was just coming up when the party came in sight of the a thrown from the — near where the had been concealed. ey did not expect to find the wagons there, for had seen them miles from there ina oa grove, where the freebooters had concealed em. With a heart beating with all the my of fear anf -suapenss;Lasso Jack turned tment ite trail and rode toward the mound of yellow dirt. Dismounting, he _— his horse in care of one of the rs and hurried forward toward the place where he had left the maidens. But, as he neared the spot, a cry of agony burst from his lips and he staggered back as if from a ghost. Before him he saw the excavation that had been made for the girls. It was open and the maidens were gone! ** Are they gone?”
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: 10 It was Lieutenant Jourdan who asked the question. ‘ Yes, they are gone, lieutenant, gone!” ** Ah! what is that?—a lifeless y, as I live.” They advanced and bent over the prostrate, lifeless form that lay a few Ss away. haggard face was up ed in e@ moon- ‘light, and the glassy eyes were wide open and at ti staring u e starry sky. “7 By eaven, lieutenant!” exclaimed Jack; ‘* don’t you recognize that face?’ “T do not.” wuss id the face of Juarez Diaz, the Texan error And he was dead—stark and stiff. But who had slain him? CHAPTER XIV. ENGLISHMAN VERSUS FREEBOOTER. Ir now becomes necessary that we should go | back and follow ae adventuresome footsteps rdson. of Sir George Ric After their escape from the wagon-corral on the prairie, the party, including Sir George, Old Dan and the two traders, tried to keep up with Lasso Jack, but failed. The young mus- tanger soon left them all far behind, and being mounted upon one of the heavy draught-horses, Sir George soon found himself far behind all the rest. He could not make his animal go out of a slow, tiresome gallop, and escape from the pareens savages he i y: He was armed with nothing but the indispen- sable gold-headed cane, and he seemed to regard his capture, now that it was so promising, with a cool indifference. In fact, when he saw that it was useless to belabor his horse for a speed that was not in him, calmly drew rein, tied a handkerchief to the end of his cane and waved it above his head. There were those among the ae who knew the import of the flag an meaning to their friends. The next minute the Englishman was sur- rounded by the savage horde, among whom were several white renegades. ‘* Hullo, here!” exclaimed one of the latter; ‘‘ what have we got here so. chéaply? A white- livered coward?” and he eyed Sir George with a comical grin upon his brutal dissipated face. “hOwing to the superiority hof your ’orse- flesh, hl su you ’ave a prisoner hof war,” replied Sir rge. ‘Humph!” ejaculated the renegade mouth- rh ‘** we never take prisoners of war.” ‘ ole. + When you leave us it, will be without your ‘hon, hindeed!—the devil you say, you sav- age barian. . Well, sir, AI am a child. hof fate, but hif you git my scalp you will ‘ave to fight for hit.” ‘Well, well, Britisher, you've got a leetle grit, ain’t you? But, seein’ as what you've got no weapons but a harmless cane, I guess you can jist ride on with us, and when we git more time we'll see what yer made of.” ‘‘hExactly, friend barbarian; lead on and hI will follow you with hall the’onor hof a prisoner of war.” , took Sir George in charge, while the rest of them galloped on in pursuit of the other flying fugitives. As they rode on, Sir George kept a close watch ges the movements of his conductors, in hopes of catching them off their guard. did, it was his intention to deal them a blow up- on the head with his cane, knock them off their horses, which he would then stampede an make his eseape. But no such an opportunity was offered. ite his indifference to cap- tivity, the eyes of the savage captors were con- stantly upon him. They rode on, and as no opportunity for es- cape was offered, Sir George found himself at dark in camp in a cottonwoodgrove with the whole band of Comanches and freebooters. The that had captured him had been oined during the evening by Texan Terror and is band, and to this chieftain’s mercy the cap- tive was now turned over. The band numbered about four-score, and ex- | perienced no fears of being pursued, but lay and sat about their camp-fires in perfect ce of mind. No guards were posted, for they knew there was no enemy within miles of them that was of sufficient strength to give them the least trouble. Yet at the very moment they consi- dered themselves free from all prying eyes and miles from an enemy, Old Dan Dorne was skulk- ing within ear-shot of their camp. And to the old hunter’s surprise he saw that saw at once was animpossi- | re that capture was certain, he | conveyed its | ery well, hI am willing to go free hon In case he | > Beadle’s Half-Dime . Libra ry. Sir George was allowed the privileges of the | camp, and with his cane in hand was moving : —_ with all the freedom of Texan Terror him- | self. ! This seemed a little strange to the ed an tM | he could not understand its meaning. He knew that Sir George was quite ingratiating in his | conversational faculties when he was a mind to | be, but he did not think he could work himself | into the confidence of an Indian, despite the | magic of his tongue, so deeply as to be permit- ted the entire freedom of the camp. And from what he had seen of Sir George, he could not think there was a traitorous element about him. _ But, he was soon destined to change his opin- ion. In the course of the evening he saw Texan Terror button-hole the Englishman and lead him to one side out of ear-shot of the savages, and enter into a private conversation with him. Now was old Dan’s chance to learn the mean- ing of Sir George’s freedom and intimacy with the Mexican freebooter, and creeping along un- | der shadow of the trees, he succeeded in gain- ing a point within easy ear-shot of the twain, | and the first sentence he heard caused him to | start with surprise. It was putin the form of a | question, thus: | ‘Then the girls are alive, eh?’ | It was Texan Terror who asked the question. ‘Yes, they hare halive,” he heard Sir George ply. | *‘*Did Lasso Jack and Old Dan Dorne carry | them off?’ the guide again heard Diaz ask. “No; we left them within the inclosure of wagons before we came away.” ‘*Sacre!” exclaimed the freebooter in surprise. “‘T believe you are lying, man!” “That his cool, hold feller, but AI ham hable to prove hall hI say, Mr. Diaz.” | “Able to prove that you left the nieces of | Captain Gray on the prairie within the inclos- ure of wagons?” “ce Yes. ” | “T believe yet youare lying. Where did you leave them?—surely not in any of the Ae x 9 ‘No, not at hall, Texan Terror. But then AI ) ham not willing to tell you where they hare un- | less you will hagree to one thing.” ‘And suppose I won’t agree to it?” retorted | Texan Terror. | “Then AI will not tell where the girls hare.” ‘Then you will lose your scalp.’ | “‘hI ham ready to die, hand die e too.” Texan Terror’s brow knitted with anger, then | he became thoughtful. He was studying some way to circumvent the Englishman. At last he said: ‘““You should remember, sir, that you, as a common subject, are not to dictate to me, Tex- an Terror,” | “hOh, hindeed! AI beg your pardon, my | Lord Terror, but hI thought we ’ad better henter into han halliance of f endship, now that we hare friends together.” | “So we are, but then you are to be recognized only as a common warrior.” | “hExactly; but in the girl case AT propose to }’ave my own wayor b’ust. If you want to | know where they hare, you must come to my terms. If not, you may lift myscalp and be darmed.” Texan Terror frowned ferociously, then re- plied: ‘Name your desires, then.” ‘Thank you. Well, there is a girl hapiece | for us. hI am to ’ave my choice hand you take the other. Both hare need pretty, hextremely | ’andsome. Now if you will go with me halone, hI will take you to where the maidens hare. | ’ d | We will ’ave to be in a’urry too, unless Lasso | Jack will be back and get them before we reach there.’ ‘“Why not take a few warriors along as an es- cort?” asked Diaz, a little suspiciously. ‘Not ha warrior, Mister Terror, else hI don’t go. hl will die first. We two must go halone —take hextra ’orses for the maidens to ride. AI tell you, Terror, they hare pretty, lovely and hangelic. You will be a ’appy man to get one | hof them.” i The Englishman had succeeded in rendering the will of the brutal, sensual freebooter per- fectly pliable, and had no trouble now in bend- ing it to suit his own purposes, whatever they were. The desire to sone of the lovely maid- / ens of whom he had heard so much from the lips of his spies, completely overbalanced all other desires and dulled the precautionary In- | stinctof the Mexican chief, and he was ready to do anything Sir George proposed. But at the same time he held the Englishman 1m igno- minious contempt, as a cowardly, weak-minded creature, whose life he was only. ing for the secrets that he hoped to compel him to divulge. And there was an undercurrent in Sir George’s conversation that Dan Dorne failed to fathom, for he was too enraged to think of aught else but of slaying the cowardly traitor, and more than once he grasped his rifle to do the deed but his better judgment at once prevailed, and he desisted from an act that was sure to bring danger down upon his own head. Returning to camp, Texan Terror at once ordered four of the best horses in the corral bridled and saddled, and when they_ were brought out, the ie chief and Sir George mounted, and with a led horse each, took their departure from camp. ‘ By cracky!” exclaimed old Dan, “T'll stop their game, and their circulation too, Dll carry the scalp o’ Sir George alongside o’ that o’ Texan Terror to the fort.” $ And thus musing to himself, the old guide did his utmost to get in ahead, but, they took a dif- ferent course from what he expected, and es- caped the death he had prepa or them. m over the prairie the a Texan Terror lloped, side by side with his new friend, Sir xeorge. The emotions of the two, as they rode onward side by side, will never be known, but judging from the nervousness with which the would regard each other occasionally, it was evi- dent that something antagonistic lurked within their breasts. Sir George still carried his cane, which came in good play now as a riding-whip. But the secret connected with that cane was unknown to all save its owner; but Diaz might have sus- something had he moticed the glances ir George gave him occasiénally, accompanied by a quick, nervous movement with the cane. Hour after hour they gallo on, the clatter of their horses’ hoofs being the only sound that broke the solemn silence of the midnight hour. As the point of their destination drew near, the emotions of the two became stirred up to a high pitch of excitement, but while Texan Terror’s emotions were those of anxiety and im- patience to one of the girls, Sir George’s were far different. At len they drew near the mound of fresh dirt throw out to conceal that taken from the excavation in which the maidens hac been concealed. As they drew near the mound, Sir George gazed around him as though laboring under a Sp A ici pon then drew rein and dismount- ed. ‘Texan Terror did likewise. Then side by side they advanced toward the place where he —Sir George—had helped to conceal the girls. : erga the Englishman came to a dead t. “By St. George!” he exclaimed, pointing to a second hole. in the ground before him, “ the girls hare ne, Terror; there is where they were concealed.’ p Had his hat-rim not shaded his eyes as he spoke, Texan Terror might have seen the light of joy that beamed in hiseyes. As it was, how- ever, the freebooter turned like a maddened beast and glared upon him, There was latent meaning enough in the Englishman’s words to arouse a demon within his wicked heart. “Villain!” he foaly burst forth, ‘‘ you have been deceiving me all the time!” “hind my lord, I ’ave not. Al ’elped to ut the girls there hin that very hexcavation. ut, they hare gone, hand we hare disappointed —both hof us, my lord,” replied Sir George, as a strange smile swept over his face; ‘some one ‘as found the maidens, hand taken them » you are lying!” roared the pirate chief; ‘‘ you have deceived me—got me here through hopes of getting away, yourself!” *“hOb no, my lord, AI could not deceive you.” ““Wretch, do not add fuel to my wrath! I see through your whole cunning scheme! I see why you were so anxious for us to come alone, You expected to meet some white friends here and Le you out. But in this you have been deceived, and now your miserable life—which is a perfect lie itself, shall pay for your cunning ; you shall die!” He proeped the haft of his tomahawk and sta toward his victim, his eyes glowing with a deadly malignant fire. But, Sir George was on the alert, and before the villain could disen- gage his tomahawk from his girdle, a long, glittering blade leaped from the staff of Sir George’s cane and was driven to the heart of the freebooter. _, With a shriek, a convulsive clutching at the open air, Texan gered forward, and fell dead. ‘Ha! ah! ah!” laughed Sir George, in a low, asp, a wild error stag-
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silent manner; “‘ this hends our halliance, Mr. Terror. You're ha bigger fool than hl took wrou to be. AI worked my ropes well, hI must - mit. AI was satisfied the girls would be be- fore we got ’ere, else hI would never ’ave brought the villain ’ere. hI ’ope the girls hare in good ’ands. But what’s to become hof this poor AEn- lish vagat nd? Well, well, Al guess AI will ake these four ’orses hand lean Aout for tall timber, ha4 my friend, Daniel Dorne, says.” He mounted his horse, and with the other three, set off toward the north. He had not ridden over two hundred yards when the clat- ter of hoofs, and the jingle of what seemed to be sabers, fell upon his ears. The sound came from the west. He halted and gazed back. He saw a number of horsemen galloping along the plain, and from the flashing of their arms, their uniforms, and the trappings upon their horses, he was convinced that it was a y of sol- diers; and he had not a doubt but that Lasso Jack was at the head of them, coming. to the rescue of the maidens, So turning about, Sir George rode back to- ward the party. CHAPTER XV. A JOYFUL MEETING. Henry St. Evmo sat like an image of stone and gazed upon that white hand and arm, pro- truding upward through the ground. It wasa mystery he could not solve—something that filled him with a strange awe. And that voice, coming, as it seemed, from everywhere, sound- ed like a voice that he had heard in a wild, yet pleasant dream. He sat motionless for several moments, and watched that hand. He saw what was pos- sessed of life. He saw it move, and finally dis- opps, down in the earth. en to his ears came another ery. Henry ssed not a tithe of superstition. After seeing and hearing—all the evidence he could desire—what he did, he knew all could be realy fathomed. So, di i as, he ad- vanced to where he had seen the hand. He found a small, circular hole—like the hole of a | Mise uirrel—but there was no other sign of the earth having been disturbed. This was xery strange indeed. “Is there an¥Y one about here in darkness?” he asked. A cry of joy Ld erpaved his ears. It issued from the earth,at his feet, and it was a woman’s cry. Henry felt babs gs impressed. How had any one been buri ive there, without. there being some evidence of the ground having been broken? “Who are you, and where are you whom I can hear?’ ‘Oh, Rosalind!” came in plain, excited words to his ears, ‘‘it is surely his voice—the voice of Henry St. Elmo!” Henry started. It was surely the voice of his darling, Mabel Garfield. Still it seemed impos- sible, and he cried: “Yes, I am Henry St. Elmo; but. who are you, and where are you?” ‘‘Oh, Henry! It is Mabel!. Weare fastened up here in the earth and gree td out!” The truth began to force i upon the mind of the young mustanger. The train had been attacked, and to elude being captured, the mai- dens had been concealed under the ground. uick as thought he sunk down upon his knees, and began tearing at the earth about the hole. The turf came up easily in blocks, revealing a wooden support beneath, One by one he removed the blocks of sod, un- til the whole top of the maidens’ box retreat was laid bare._Then, like one in a mad frenzy, he tore off the boards, and moonbeams stream- mS down. into the box, revealed to him the white, sad faces of Mabel and Rosalind Gar- field, upturned to his. With a cry of surprise, he reached down and lifted them from their retreat. “Mabel, my darling!” he cried, ‘‘ what does this mean?” “Oh, Harry!” moaned Mabel, as he folded her to his throbbing breast, and imprinted kisses of the wildest joy upon her pale brow. ‘Dear Mabel,” the young mustanger replied, scarcely knowing what he said, “‘ this surely is not reality—that we meet thus.” “Yes, yes, it is reality, Henry, and but for your coming we would ‘have perished ina liv- ing tomb.” ; “Tell me, darling, why it is that you are here? Has trouble befallen your train? Have you seen my friend, Lasso Jack?” Mabel stayed her emotions of joy, and nar- rated the terrible trials and troubles through which they had passed since Lasso Jack first 7 Lasso J ack. made his appearance in the camp on Clear Creek, up to that hour. Henry received the news with a feeling of sorrow and anguish, He then narrated his own adventures, from the time he had separated from Lasso Jack, up to the moment be heard their imploring cries for help. t-was a joyous meeting, and they talked on for some time. Finally Rosalind asked: ‘“ Where will we go now, Henry, for safety?” “‘T will take you,” replied Henry, ‘‘to a set- tlement, north of here, from which we can to Fort —— and from thence to Santa Fe.” ‘Tis fortunate for us that we have met iy Henry,” said Rosalind, ‘‘for I fear Lasso Jack and his friends will never come back.” “Why not, Rosalind?” “T am afraid they have all been killed.” ‘Tt may be possible, but it will take a good many Comanches ever to catch Lasso Jack.” A light of joy beamed in Rosalind’s dark, asain eyes, to hear Henry speak thus of her ero. “But, should Jack ever come back and find us gone, what will he think?” “ He will no doubt be uneasy, but it will not do for us to leave a note here telling him where we have gone, for an enemy is just as apt to get it as he is. I will take you to the settlement, then look after Jack and his friends.” Rosalind could searcely suppress her emotions of joy, while Mabel cried and laughed by turns when she realized that her lover, whom she had mourned as dead, was alive and by her side. At length Henry said: “ We must not tarry here longer, girls. There is no telling what dangers are lurking around us. You two must mount my horse and ride. I will walk, and guide you across the plain.” The maidens pre themselves as well as Franti for the journey. The remainder of heir food was packed for future use. Henry then assisted them to the back of his pony, and taking the rein, turned northward and began their journey. Nor were they a minute too soon, for they had gone scarcely twenty rods when he heard horses coming up the road from the west. ss He glanced back and saw two horsemen ris- ing upon a little swell in the prairie against the moonlit sky. He knew at once that they were not friends, for one of them he saw wore a broad-brimmed sombrero, with a large plume attached to it. He recognized by these, the wearer of the hat and plume. It was the Mexi- can freebooter, Texan Terror! The young mustanger quickened his pace un- til the o lmed that prc the girls was hurried into a slow trot, and in this manner they soon put quite a distance between them and the prai- rie pirates. ey traveled steadily onward in silence, and at a goodly speed. The night wore away, and, just as the sun streamed across the great plain, the trio de- scended into the deep, wooded valley through which wound the San Saba river, ~ ‘‘When we reach that timber,” said Henry, “we will rest a few minutes, girls, for I know you must be greatly fatigued.” They descended into the valley and entered the timber. Under a green, shady oak they came to.a halt. The maidens were assisted to dismount, and the mustang lariated, to browse among the teuder foliage. Their meager supply of food was produced, and eaten with good relish. Feeling greatly refreshed hy their rest and morning meal, the little party was about to re- sume its journey, when the watchful eye of Henry St. Elmo discovered a number of mount- ed Indians riding along the summit of the bluffs eastward of them, about half a mile. They were out upon the prairie, and although our friends were concealed from their view in. the timber, Henry’s fears became great, for he saw that the savages were traveling eastward, and would cross their trail at right angles. He knew that the trail would not escape the keen eyes of the warriors, for it was plainly defined through the dew-wet grass. In breathless anxiety the young mustanger watched them, and when he saw them reach the trail, stop, and gaze away to the north, and then the south, his worst fears were realized—the savages had discovered his trail! He watched them a moment. He saw one of them dismount and examine the trail, then the whole band, a score or more, turned on the trail and rode directly toward the timber. Informing the girls of the crisis, the next min- ute ey had resumed their journey at a rapid speed, Ten minutes’ journeying brought them to the 11 river, and the sight of a canoe lying empty on the bank rm the idea of abandoning the ing to'the water, He knew it would be an — matter for the lynx-eyed sav- pa follow the hoof-prints of the mustang, while the canioe would leave no trail. Assisting the girls to dismount he turned the pony loose, having first placed the burr of a cactus under the saddle. ricked the ani- mal and sent him flying down the river, as Hen- ry desired; for he felt in hopes the savages would overlook the division of the party, and follow on after the flying mustang. The young man now launched the canoe and dusiate- the maidens into it. He then took the paddle, and driving the craft out into the river, turned and moved up its course. They found this manner of journeying less fatiguing than on horseback, and the spirits of the maidens began to revive. The air was cool and bracing, and came laden with the sweet perfumes of the wildwood, and this, together with the easy, gliding motion of the canoe, the regular pinak, plash of the oars, lulled the sis- ters into a dreamy, delicious forgetfulness, such as precedes sleep of a worn, fatigued mind. uddenly the languid eyes of Mabel were lifted to those of her lover, and a low cry es- ca her lips. he saw that his head was bent in. the atti- tude of listening, and that hisfface denoted sud- den fear. “What is it, Henry? Are we in danger?” she asked. “T fear we are discovered, darling,” he re- sponded, as he turned his canoe abruptly in to- ward the southern shore of the river, under a low rock that projected several feet over the water, and from whose face a curtain of moss and wild vines had grown down, trailing almost to the water’s surface.-It-was an admirable hiding-place, but just such a place as an Indian in search of them would be sure to look. How- ever, Henry had hopes that if it were Indians coming down the river, they were not in search of them, and so would on by. Still they were being detained, every moment lost by them was the ve va gain. . The shadows of the rock and curtain of vines made it dark almost as twilight gloom where they were concealed, but within ten feet of them the broad glare of light lay upon the placid bosom of the river, in which were reflected the trees that lined the shore and the ragged edges of the rocks above them. An hour of anxious wai wore by, and the young mustanger decided to resume his journey, and was in the act of pushing out into the stream, when Rosalind’s hand was laid upon his arm in a quick, excited manner. ‘Look there,” she said, in a whisper, point- ing through the curtain of vines down at the water where the rock above them was mirrored in the glassy waves. Henry looked as directed and saw the figure of aman reflected in the waters. He was evi- dently pee the edge of the rock above them, and so plainly was he defined, that our fri had no trouble in recognizing him to be an Indian warrior. The fugitives scarcely breathed, so afraid were they of being discovered, for they knew the panther-footed savage was not over ten feet from them, and the least sigh or plash would catch his practiced ear. They watched the figure in the waters with bated h. They saw it advance to the edge of the rock and, a a peer down. This sent the blood in icy etirrents through Henry’s veins, for he believed the savage sus- Leegs some one being concealed under the rock. A moment later they saw the mirrored figure stretch out an arm, then a pebble dropped in the water within four or five feet of them. What did this mean? Henry was at a loss to understand, and while he sat pondering, he saw the figure disappear. This gave him a relief that was only momentary, for he at once saw a dozen or more Comanche warriors appear from the woods on the opposite side of the river and move down toward the bank. They were a hunting-party. This Henry saw from the loads of fresh meat they carried. “They proceeded down almost ‘to the water’s edge, then stopped and deposited their game on the ee grassy bank with an exclamation of re- el. This convinced Henry that they had halted there to rest, and his conjectures were soon veri- fied by seeing a number of the party throw them- selves upon the earth, and assume an attitude of ease and listlessness. Henry felt sorely vexed. He was bound to /
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i i] ll } 12 ‘ wears remain under the rock as long as the savages re- mained on the opposite shore, for, if he attempt- ed to escape, he would be compelled to push out in plain view of the savages. ‘or more than an hour they waited, but, in- stead of their situation — less perilous by the de of the foe, they were suddenly startled by seeing another party of fully forty mounted warriors coming up the river. They came on to where the hunters were, hal and dismounted., This convinced our friends that the point had been selected asa rendezvous, The warriors unharnessed their ponies and turned them loose to browse, then, stacked their and rifles in the center of the grassy knoll and assumed such positions of rest as their desires dictated. But, where was the Indian who had been up- on the rock—that our friends saw mirrored in the dazzling waters? Scarcely the young mustanger asked him- self the question, than all three of them became conscious of a dull, vibratory shock of their canoe. They turned and gazed around them, and each tongue was yzed with sudden terror, when each eye saw the tufted head and painted face of an Indian warrior appear above the rim of their canoe. The maidens’ faces were blanched with terror and the hand of St. Elmo involuntarily sought his knife. But the fears of the trio were set at ease by seeing the warrior raise his hand before his face with the palm turned outward, signifi- cant of friendship and silence; and it was then that the party vered, despite his paint and feathers, that the supposed Indian warrior was Lasso Jack, the young mustanger |! CHAPTER XVI. ON THE FUGITIVES’ TRACKS. Lasso JACK and Lieutenant Jourdan were not a little surprised at finding the body of Texan Terror by the hole where the maidens had been concealed. And Jack’s fears and un- re regarding the maidens’ absence were painful. Circumstances argued to him that the free- booters and Indians had come and taken the maidens, and that an altercation regarding pos- session of them had probably taken place be- tween some of the parties, and Juarez Diaz had a ri th d the li ut, while the young mustanger and the lieu- tenant stood discussing the matter, the ‘‘ swish ” of feet in the grass suddenly arrested their at- tention. Turning, they saw a man with four horses in his poset ding toward them. A single glance enabled Lasso Jack to nize the man as Sir George Richardson, and = an instant it flashed across his mind that the lishman had slain Texan Terror. he approached, Jack accosted him with the question: ‘“Who comes ” “Sir George Richardson, my dear friend Jack,” was the response. “Sir George, the traitor!” yelled out Old Dan Dorne; ‘seize him, men, and let’s hang him to one’t.” “Why, my dear friend Dan, you must be slightly hinebriated,” returned Sir , draw- ing rein and dismounting. ‘ We have been informed of your treachery,” said Lasso Jack, spprosching the Englishman, and laying his hand upon his shoulder, ‘“ and I arrest you as an ally of the prairie treeboot- ‘*hIndeed!” exclaimed the Englishman, with oppane? astonishment: “who had the haudaci- to tell— “Tm the lad that said so,” exclaimed Old Dan Dorne, rushing forw and confronting the Englis “and I’m willin’ to swear t I heard ye plottin’ with Texan Terror to come here and get the girls.” Your ’earing, friend Dan, his keener than your perception,” replied Sir George, “Then ye mean to say that I didn’t hear you and Texan Terror talkin’ together to-night; that you weren’t in’ *bout the Indians’ camp with yer cane in hand as though you war king o’ the kit; that you and Terror didn’t mount yer hosses and take one apiece fur the gals and strike a bee-line fur this place? Jist m4 that I wern’t eA right clus by and heard all yer plans and , and Pi—well, I won’t say what I will do.” ‘hI ham sorry to say, Dan, you hare as gulli- Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. ble as the AIndians themselves. Al hadmit hall ‘ou say is true, but, not once did AI think hof ing traitor in ’eart. AIt was honly to ac- complish my release, and — the vital circula- tion of that villain, Texan Terror, that Al con- descended to do what AI did.” ‘*Then why did you bring him here to endan- ger the lives of the girls?’ hsked Old Dan. “hI knew that probably the girls would be released long before we pot ere, hand by com- ing ’ere alone, hI knew hI would be equal to ’im in force hat the worst. Things turned hout just has hI wanted them to, and there lays the remains hof Texan Terror, and ’ere hare ’is ’orses to prove that my hintentions were good. hif Al val thought the Ari were ’ere, hI would ’ave died before hI would been so darned mean has to bring him ’ere. AI knew by telling ’im they were concealed ’ere has they were, hit would make my case stronger.” ‘“*T am inclined to think, Den; that Sir George is telling us the truth—that he has outwitted you as well as Texan Terror.” “By cracky!” exclaimed Old Dan, poem | his frowsy head in pe ee “T see throug the hull thing. I Reaenabertte en I war listenin to Terror and Sir George, that the latter ac a leetle curious and independent. But, I see through it all now, and beg yer pardon; Eng- lisher. I admit you’ve a purty tongue to deceive, a face to cloth it in, and the royal grit to back it. Beg your pardon fur ’cusing you of traitorism, and will treat to the best in Santa Fe when we git there. Shake.” The old guide extended his 4 palm, and ing that of the brave, daring Englishman, Sook it warmly. Sir George held no ill feel- ing toward him, for he knew it was human to err. “Can you tell us any thing about the girls?” asked Lasso Jack. ‘*Nothing, my young friend. The ’ole was hopen when we got ’ere.” ‘ How long since you came here?’ “ But afew minu ago. hAl’ad just cooled the freebooter hoff when AI ’eard the clatter hof your ’orses’ feet coming up the road, hand thinking it might be a pack hof hIndians, hI be- gan making myself scarce. Bnt hI soon discov- ered who it was, hand came back.” ‘“*My God!” exclaimed Lasso Jack, “‘I fear those red Comanche hounds have trailed the maidens to their biding-place, and carried them away.” “Wal, we can look out for their trail,” said old Dan. ‘‘It may be they have escaped them- he and are wandering about over the “Then let us to work,” said Jack; ‘‘ the moon is shining bright almost as daylight, and if there = - oy a matungue ain) coh geld ogether the y: mustanger ts) Cc) moved away a prom | distance, then began an examination of the ground in a circle about the lace. 4 Their efforts were not in vain. Old Dan soon found where a single horse had traveled north, and from the rk, sinuous trail windin through the dewy grass, he knew the horse lately traversed the —_ There was nothing by which*they could tell whether the horseman had been an Indian or not, but whoever and whichever it was, Indian or white man, they had some reason to believe} he had carried the maidens away with him, so the rangers were divided into parties to travel ,northward at a distance of a mile apart, and all to meet at a designated point on the river several miles north of them. Without a minute’s hesitation the les set off over the plain, led by Jourdan, Jack and Dan Dorne. They traveled on, and shortly after daylight a three parties met at the designated point on © river. Lieutenant Jourdan had this information to a About daybreak I descried a of three rsons, two riding on one horse, and one walk- g, traveling westward toward the timber. I brought my glass to bear upon them and dis- piso the two on horseback were women, ana— “It must be they—Rosalind and Mabel!” ex- claimed Jack; “but were they in the power of anit just in h guided b was going to say they were vy a white man who, thought, Yesembled Henry St. Elmo in fo: but they were too far away to distinguish his features. " We tried to attract their attention, but failed. Then we would have endeavored to overtake them, but for a large band of savages that suddenly appeared in view.’ ae | ; — “Ts our united strength able to cope with them?” asked Jack. ‘**- Yes,” replied J ourdan. “Then let us away!” cried Jack, and turning, the oped up the river. They hod travelod about a mile when they were met by a riderless pony that came charg- ing down the river through the timber. The my was caught, but the party could make lit- le of it. They continued on and were sudden- ly startled by two white men that crept out rom under some bushes, nearér dead than alive. They were the two traders who had escaped from that scene of death upon the plain. “What! is it you, Granger and Hall?’ ex- claimed Jack, drawing rein before them. “aves,” replied Granger, “‘and a bitter time we've had, Jack, since we parted. Hunger, fear and fatigue have about finished us out.’ “You shall suffer no longer, boys,” said Jack; ‘*we have both food and horses for you.” “Thank God!” said Hall; ‘‘ but, Jack, I saw the girls with a young white man going ugh the woods, a few minutes ago.” “What? saw Rosalind and Mabel Garfield?” Granger and Hall were at once mounted on a couple of Sir George’s extra ponies, then the whole party continued on. They soon came to where the maidens and Henry St. Elmo had taken to the river. Old Dan readily pointed out the maidens’ tracks, and the place where the canoe’s prow had been im- bedded in the sand. But there were numerous moccasin tracks about, which convinced them that the Indians were between them and the captives. ld Dan was sent up the river to make a re connoissance. He soon came back with the fol- lowing report: “'Thar’s slathers of red devils up the river, and they’ve gone intocamp up thar, too. Now, I’ve made this calculation mip teajer the three fugitives: if they did take to the river, they’re concealed along the shore, not above whar the reds are camped, for I see’d a boat with two o’ the varlets comin’ down the river, and they’d ’a’ met the fugitives in course if they’d contin- ued on above whar t’others are incamp. And now, thar’s no place whar the fugitives could hide along either shore below where they would have met the two warriors, had they continued on, unless it is under a projectin’ and over- hangin’ bushes and vines on the south bank, di- y opposite of the savages; and if a are there, no tellin’ how they’re to be got out, un- less we go up and drive the savages away, and that might cost us a few lives.” ‘You are not sure, then, the girls and their ace gi oF companion, are under the rock you of? ‘“No; thar’s too many vines hangin’ down over the edge of the rock to see under it.” “Then I shall know within the next hour whether they are under that rock or not!” said Lasso Jack “Keep cool now, lad,” said Old Dan, “don’t -let_your rashness cost you your skulp.” Jack paid no attention to the injunction of his old friend, but, pressing histhorse into the river, swam it across to the ite shore, where he dismounted, hitched his horse, and by a skillful rearrangement of his buck-skin clothing and the application of some pigments which he al- ways carried about him, in case of emergencies, he converted himself into a tolerable looking In- dian. To Old Dan, who had followed him across the river, he now made known his intention and took his departure up the river. He had been gone over two hours, when the eagle eye of old Dan, who had been closely watching the current of the river, caught sight of a m leaf drifting down the stream. * Tt’s all right, boys, said the old guide. “‘Las- so Jack has found the fugitives, and we’re want- ed on this side of the river. Come over. men, and let’s be off. That large green leaf there is Jack’s signal.” ‘ The rangers hastily crossed the river; then, riding out into the forest, dismounted, hitched their animals, and p ed with great silence up the stream. CHAPTER XVII. OUT OF THE TOILS. Henry St. ELMO and the two maidens could scarcely restrain their emotions of joy and glad- ness on seeing Lasso Jack before them. But, they knew that their lives were in imminent
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peril, and depended pusitely ube their silence, and so each one expressed his and her feelings of joy in asilent language as forcibly almost as words could have done. Lasso Jack seemed al- most dumbfounded at sight of St. Elmo’s face, for he had never expected to see him alive again. Carefully, with tbe assistance of Henry, the young mustanger raised himself into the canoe, and taking a seat before his friends, said in a low whisper: “We are in imminent peril, friends, as you doubtless see, but we have friends below here that will come to our assistance just as soon as I can communicate with them.” “But, how will it be done without leaving here, Jack?” asked Henry. “This way,” said Jack, taking a large green leaf and dropping it into the river. Henry saw at once what his intentions were, for the eddying current whirled the leaf out- ward from the dense shadows of the rock into the middle of the river—and it was carried away on the bosom of the stream. . Jack kept a close watch — the savages on the opposite shore, for he felt no little fears of the keen eyes of the foe detecting his mute mes- senger. But, he breathed freer when he saw it float down the river unobserved; and then he turned to Rosalind and conversed with her in low whispers. He soon learned how they had es- ca from their hiding-place on the prairie, af- ter suffering hours of agony in what they had come to regard as a living tomb. Jack then narrated the perilous adventures that had detained him, and prevented him from oo promise in returning to their re- lease. enry, also, told Jack how he had made his mysterious disappearance from his animal’s back on that memorable day that opens our story. And thus ey ee the time until they were suddenly startled by the tread of feet, mingled with a wild shout above them. They saw the savages leap to their feet startled with sudden terror, They saw them ae their weapons and prepare to defend themselves. But, the next instant the crash of three-score rifles and carbines rung out on the rock above them, and three-score bullets whistled across the river into the savages’ midst. A yell of death and terror pealed from the red foes’ li as they beat a hasty retreat under cover of the woods, ‘‘ Now is our time, Henry!” exclaimed Jack. Henry plied the oar and sent the craft out from under the rock; then, skirting along the shore a few rods, finally reached a point where an easy lan was effected. The next minute the little band was in the ee of the rangers. They were safe once more Two weeks later found. Rosalind and Mabel Garfield safely in Santa Fe with their brother. Lasso Jack and Henry St. Elmo, accompanied by Old Dan, Sir George and an escort under Lieutenant Jourdan, had carried them safely ah their journey’s end. St o never went back to the prairies of Texas as a m But, Lasso Jack lingered only a few days at Santa Fe. He went feok to his wild life as a m r on the prairies. He heard, however, every few weeks of the year that follow from his betrothed, d Garfield. A length, however, the prairies and the excitement oe a. ge # wild horses lost all heir charm was found drifting Ser te ele boca year in e his b with the means accumulated as a mistanger, he was enabled to go into business, the happiest of happy men, with a cheerful little help-mate to share with him life’s ills and joys alike. Sir George Richardson never proposed to Rosalind, for he had sense enough to spare him- self from the of rejection. He traveled extensively in America and wedded an English lady, in every respect worthy of his love. He is nOW & prosperous man in one of the Western States, and should you ever wish to see him and hear his great and wonderful stories of his ad- ventures on the prairies of Texas, just drop in at tee oe reine wal have your desires 4 rge no mythical i Moor reader. being, THE END, Lasso Jack. THE NEW YORK Fireside Library. 1—Was She His Wife? 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Speakers. BEADLE AND ADAMS have now on their lists the follow- ing highly desirable and attractive text-books, pre- pares Sees tak for perye nae, ge —_ Each volume contains eS m clear, open type. Somprising the best soilédtion of Dialogues Dramas vn Recitations, (burlesque, comic and otherwise.) The Dime Speakers for the season of 1877—as faras now issued—embrace eighteen volumes, viz.: 1. American Speaker, 10. Spread-Eagle Speaker. 2 National Speaker. 11. Dime Debater. 8. Patriotic Speaker. 12. Exhibition Speaker. 4. Comie Speaker. 13. School Speaker. 5. Elocutionist. 14. Ludicrous Speaker. 6. Humorous Speaker, 15. Komikal Speaker. 7. Standard Speaker, 16. Youth’s Speaker. 8. Stump Speaker. 17, Eloquent Speaker. 9, Juvenile Speaker. 18. Hail Columbia Speaker. 19. Serlo-Comic Speaker. These books are replete with choice pieces for the School-room, the Exhibition, for Homes, ete. They are drawn from FRESH sources, and contain some of the choicest oratory of the times. 7 to 100 Declamations and Recitations in each book. Dialogues. The Dime Dialogues, each volume 100 pages, embrace twenty books, viz.: Dialogues No. One. Dialogues No. Eleven. DIME NOVELS. Incomparable in Merit. Unapproachable in Price. [2 Be very careful not to confound these books with those of other publishers, sold at the same price. The vast success of the Dime Novels called into existence “Ten Cent Novels,” which the public is sometimes de- ceived in buying as Dime Novels. The only Dime Novels are those published by BEADLE AND ADAMS, whose copy- right trade-mark and signet the word “Dime” Novel is. Ask nares for te Dine Novels, and you will then get what you wis e follow comprises a com- _— ty as far as published. Numbers Omitted are out of prin 3 fee Privateer’s Cruise. | 225 pick aap ra. e Forest cess. 9 The Slave Sculptor. 03 The Mute Chief. 10 The Backwoods Bride. The Partisan Spy. 11 Prisoner La Vintresse. The Texan Trailer. 14 The Emerald Necklace. The Prairie Queen. 16 Uncle Ezekiel. The Forest Specter. 17 Madge Wilde. The Ice Fiend. The Maid of Esopus. The Plymouth Scout, Winifred Winthrop. cutet awk Kit. The Trail Hunters. Old Zip. The Peon Prince. Put. Pomfret’s Ward. Double Hero. Swiftwing. Mink Coat, Graybeard. 848 The Apache Guide 349 The Mad Miner 350 Keen Bye, the Ranger %1 Blue Belt, Guide 352 On the Trail 355 Red Knife, Chief 856 Sib Cone, ‘trapper 358 Bashful Bill, Spy Spon se na, the 861 The Squaw Spy 862 Scout of '76 863 Spanish Jack 864 Masked Spy $65 Kirke, the Renegade $66 Dingle; the Outlaw 3867 The Green Ranger 368 Montbars, the Scourge 369 Metamora FELSLELERSRESELESS Beadle & Adams’ Standard Dime Publications. 876 The Phantom Horse man 377 Winona, the Giant Chief of St. Re Silent Shot, the The Black Wizard The Mad Horseman The Privateer’s Bride The Jaguar Queen Shadow Jack Eagle Plume The Ocean Outlaw Red Slayer The Phantom Foe The Biue Anchor 870 Thornpath, the Trailer | 396 The Red-Skin’s Pledge 871 Foul-weather Jack 872 The Black Rider 397 The Quadroon Spy 898 The Black Rover $73 The Helpless Hand 4 Red-Belt, the Tuscarora 874 The Lake Rangers 875 Alone on the Plains The Two Trails Others in Press. THE ILLUMINATED DIME POCKET NOVELS. Comprising the best works only of the most popular liv- ing writers in the field of American rumance. Each issue a complete novel, with illuminated cover, rivaling } in effect the popular chromo. Maum Guinea. 20c. Ruth Margerie. East and West. Riflemen of the Miami. The Wrong Man. The Land Claim. Union’s Daughter. 200, The King’s an. es Falkland. reck of the Albion, Tim Bumble’s Charge. The Two Guards. Hates and Loves. Myrtle. Ahmo’s Plot. Jo Daviess’ Client. The Black Princess. Keetsea, Queen of the Plains. The Red Prince. The White Apache. Dusky Dick. The Squaw Sachem, The Border Renegade, Dialogues No. Two. Dialogues No. Three, Dialogues No. Four, Dialogues No. Five, Dialogues No. Six. Dialogues No. Seven. Dialogues No. Eight. Dialogues No. Twelve. Dialogues No, Thirteen. Dialogues No. Fourteen. Dialogues No. Fifteen. Dialogues No. Sixteen. Dialogues No. Seventeen. Dialogues No. Eighteen. Dialogues No, Nine. Dialogues No. Nineteen. Dialogues No. Ten. Dialogues No. Twenty. 15 to 25 Dialogues and Dramas in eath book. These volumes have been prepared with especial re- ference to their availability in all school-rooms. They are adapted to schools with or without the furniture of a stage, and introduce a range of characters suited to scholars of every grade, both male and female. It is fair to assume that no volumes yet offered toschools, at any price, contain so many available and useful dia- logues and dramas, serious and comic. 1 Hawkeye Harry 48 The Phantom Tracker 2 Dead Shot 49 Moccasin Bill The Fire-Eater. $ The Boy Miners 50 The Wolf Queen The Prairie Scour 51 Tom Hawk, the Trailer 5 Nat Wolfe . 62 The Mad Chief Blackhawk, the Bandit. $ The White Tracker The Black Wolf . The Outlaw’s Wife Arkansas Jack 8 The Tall Trapper Blackbeard 9 Lightning Joe The River Rifles 10 The Island Pirate Hunter Ham 11 The Boy Ranger Cloudwood 122 Bess, the Trapper The Texas Hawks 18 The French Spy Merciless Mat The Blue Band. 14 Long Shot Wild Rube, 268 The Specter Riders. bey gonmeker pt heBowter 269 The Young Mustangers. | 17 Ben, the Trapper 18 Wild Raven, Ranger 22 23 2 3 80 81 33 & 35 86 88 89 40 42 Ad 46 47 51 53 &4 56 60 Red Dan, the Ranger. 61 The Twin Trailers. 62 The Border Huntress. 63 The Indian Princess, Mountain Kate. 64 Rangers of Mohawk. Mad Anthony’s Seoute t 65 The Luckless Trapper : +4 The Florida Scou f 69 The Island Trapper | 72 vr) vc} 7 81 84 85 86 87 83 90 91 92 93 be % 96 97 98 99 Wolf-Ca Ratt] pte ye : Iron-Hand The Yellow Hunter SELERERNESERBLERES ELREESENSERSELN The Wrecker’s Prize. The Bri Black A NEW BOOK OF POPULAR ; Dramas and Readings. ntine. ollow. 7) Black Panther. The Indian Queen. ‘ © Moose Hunter. 1 The @ H x 18 mo Pages. 20 Cente he silver Bue. | #2 Single Handy |) the Marscier ser 0 esa) 6. e under 21 Wild Nat For Schools, Parlors, E hertahamenty and the Amateur uindaro. 274 The Sea King. ® Indian Jo, the Guide e Two Hunters. The Seminole Chief. The Fugitives, Stage, comprising Ori mas, Comedy, Farce, Dress Pieces, Humorous Dialogue and Burlesque, by noted writers; and Recitations and Readings, new j and standard 275 Nick, the Scout. 276 Two-Handed Mat. 277 Abdiel, the Avenger The Phantom Rider 23 Old Kent, the Ranger sy ss Delaware Tom % The One-Eyed Trapper 25 Godbold, the Spy Silver Rifle SIRASAIVIAISSSASKIVSKLISSRASALS ; of the greatest celebrity and interest. Red Pl ume, 278 Boon, the Hunter The Skeleton . Edited by Prof. A. M. Russell. On the Deep. The Girl Captain ape os ad tinte Rite Captain Molly. rder 28 Indian Jim The Wood Witch DIME HAND-BOOKS Cast Awa 231 The Black Spy 29 The Scout Old Ruff, the Teapper on The Lost Cache. 282 Ruby Roland 30 Eagle Eye The Scarlet Shouldeve The Twin Scouts. 234 The Young Spy 81 The Mystic Canoe The Border Rifleman | ; The Creole Sisters. 235 Old Bear-paw &2 The Golden Harpoon 99 Outlaw Jack | Lip an pelea get dere yh Peiern °° | Br mtantaneneraaee’ |S Steven & Bash Deales esas a "Ss er, the Shaw. | BEADLE’s DIME HAND-BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE cover a Little Moccasin. 238 The Wood Kin: Fy aaa the Ranger " nee Scourge’ wide of subjects The Doomed Hunter. ton, the Ranger their end. They constitute at once the ¢ eapest and 8 S and are igre beep: to 86 The Boy Pioneer Ruth Harland. 290 Captain of Captains m, the Gui 88 The Specter Horseman most useful works yet put into the market for popular Overboard. 291 Warrior Princess 4 Sy eek orn 84 The ee Trappers circulation. 100 Karatbo. 292 Black John $9 Wetzel, the Scout, 8 Kaleolah, the Witc Ladies’ Letter-Writer. Book of Games. 101 Maid of Wyoming. 293 The Tonkawa Spy 40 The Huge Hunter ueen Gents’ Letter-Writer. Fortune-Teller. 102 Hearts Forever. 204 The Rival Rovers 41 Wild Nat, the Trapper |.86 The Hunter Hercules Book of Etiquette. Lovers’ Casket. 108 Fumble Eni. 2% Arkansas Kit 42 Lynx-ca 87 Phil Hunter, the Boy Book of Verses.» Ball-room Companion. 107 The Peddler Spy. 296 Death Trailer 43 The White Outlaw Slayer —RESepeee *_ Temncersme | Be Bick ck cage [Anse aim™ |S Hus man scot > ‘3 110 The Hidden Home, 299 Mossfoot, the Brave : he Pil Others in Hand Book of Games. 112 The Falcon Rover. $00 The Crested Serpent | 4 Adrian, the Pilot 801 Mustang Sam 82 Cuban 308 The Corsair Brapie’s Dome HAND-Booxs oF GAMES AND POPULAR of en een ng. onspirators HaND-Booxs cover a variety of subjects, and are especi- | 115 The Sons of Liberty. ince THE FIRESIDE LIBRARY. ally adapted to’ their end. 116 Port at Last. h ; e Texan Avengers Base-Bal] Player for 1878. Guide to Swimming. The Mohegan Mai r Book of Croquet. Yachting and Rowing: aa The Water het: ornne a jad an 1 Was Sue His Wire? Mrs. Mary ay Crowell... a. Chess Instructor. pane and Driving. 119 The Five Champions.’ | g07 Death’s-head Rangers | & FLerinc From Love. By Harriet Irving..... " Cricket and Football. Book of Pedestrianism. 121 Vailed Benefactress. 808 Glass Eye 8 Dip HE Love Her? Bartley T. Campbell. 5597100, 3 pare n, the .~> . 09 Mounta n Ned 4A Gearon Womgn. ian nan rep Le 3 ta * e Miss: r 1 mn USSIAN Spy. F. Whi nee came 4 Meron! fos Hopeewives Benger Siooce {RR MOmrna 8 | 8 Rania cu ei Sie are Crs, BEADLE’s Dime Famtiy Series aims to supply a classof | 125 The Hunted Life, 812 Dick Darling 7-8 LaDy AUDLEY’S SECRET. By Miss M. E. Brad- - text-books and manuals fitted for every rson’s use— | 127 Bald Eagle. 813 The Red Brotherhood : ‘ 2 oh 20c the old and the young, the learned an unlearned, | 128 The Guich Miners, 814 Rival Lieutenants ORE ong ont od) seine peice dc decor cues wees cevawencs ioe ’ They are of conceded value. 129 Blackeyes. 815 Tiger Heart, Tracker 9 Tae War or Hearts. Corinne Cushman.... 1. Cook Book. 4. Family Physician. 182 Old Honesty. 816 Hurricane Bill 10 Leianton Granee. Miss M. E. Braddon ..... 10c, 2. Recipe Book. 5. Dressmaking and Millin- | 183 Yankee Ep 817 Tippy, the Texan 11 Tue Fatse Wipow. Mrs. J. D. Burton ...... 10¢e % Housekeeper’s Guide. ery. 135 The Cherokee Chief. | 818 The Stone Chief 12-13 Lost For Love. Miss M. EB. Braddon...... 20e. 186 The Indian Hunters. 137 The Traitor Spy. 139 The Border Foes. 140 Sheet-Anchor Tom. 819 The Pear] Pirates Soswe 4 $20 The Child Sp 14-15 ToILERS OF THE Sea. By Victor Hugo 20¢ 16 Tue Ocroroon. By Miss M. E. Braddon .... 10c. B22 Oia Grizziy, the Bear- |17-18 Uncte Sinas, By J. S.LeFanu _....... 20c. 142 The Sagamore of Saco. tamer 19-20 Deap-SkA Frurr. Miss M. E. Braddon..... 20c. Hy que § Swanrp Scout. = que Dashing Dragoons 21-22 LitTLe = Kirsy. = w. ene oe Pri er Bessie, ~0’- - e | 2% JIN S. weed ~ 147 Ma id of the Mountaf tle Ps 23 SOWING THE Wind. Mrs. Mary Tow ) Lives of Great Americans. Are presented complete and authentic biogrs hies of many of the men who have added luster to the Republic by their lives and deeds. The series embraces: I.—George Washington. | VIL—David Crockett. aw 24-25 Brrps or Prey. Miss M. E. Braddon ..... 20c. 1—John Paul Jones,” | VILC—Israel Putnam. Ba BS Bashing Dick 26 Taat Boy or Norcorr’s, Charles Lever .... 10c ee ag \ bony Wayne. Er eit Carson. 162 The Border Rivals. $27 Ben Bramble; the Hun- |?/-#5 CHARLOTTE’s INHERITANCE, By Miss “ah ' V—Marquis de Lafayett TT Aeapseh. incoin, | 163 Job Dean, Trapper. ter Braddon ........ ....-...- aes Vi—Daniel Boone. | X1L—Pontlac. 1 ee eee | ee Tene Caran Te ee hoe By meds Both e e é q.these beautiful books are complete in one volume— | 115 The Trader Spy. tot, | Gray Hair the Chief Spenser arp naggnen ie co rh ag . 2c. fo nad v- en. om ra , ; 597 Ud, JUD abe newsdealers; or sent, post-paid, to ‘any address, on | 19 The First Trail. | $2 The Rival Hunters [33 14 Lity op St, Exwe, By Mrs. Grow -..... a ts 33 S Ww By Mrs. J. D. BuRTON 10¢ receipt of price—ten cents each, 208 Masked Guide, $33. The Texan Scout oY STRANGELY WED, $. MEO. Malen... . | A BF RSH Mbaoee, | Bt Pees nomoneer [8 enous by Hae Togrataic 1 ‘ j ‘apper. ne Masked Mess ; . Ing te eas BOOKS. 28 Sea: ae Baple, ee — an. the Pirate 36 Bs get Vac mgt ear Ls Pe 10¢. ° onl eter cellettion Ob cigs ridhe sdoan to be teuna Pd Se kbttes Thick 338 Tahle, the Tratler oe ion» B2076 2502 A ioe, 18 ND opted in the market. ; S8) ‘The Boy Chieé 88 Brave BarparRA, By Corinne Cushman...... 10c. 214 The Forest Monster, 215 The White Hermit, + am Toe re rhatan 39 A DanaeRous WoMAN. By Margaret Blount.. 10c. MISCELLANEOUS DIME BOOKS. | 2i7 Mountain Gia. Giant,” 40 Oura’s Love. By Henr h 10¢. an Spy. $42 Stella, the Spy 41 Lost: Ire. By Corinne Cushman....-...- q Robinson Crusoe. Jim Crow Joke Book. 219 The Sciato Scouts, 348 Th ite Avenger Winnine Ways. B rg: RII its oe 3’ 10c, Pocket Joke Book. Paddy Whack Joke Book. | 2% Nick Doyle. S44 ane Indian King : ‘ aiae Hmane mee hd ay, Victor os 221 The Blue Cli x 223 King of the fountain, ve Captive. will bo cathe Pee elt wie cnooiot Of prion by HEED on rece y EADAMS 8 Witum bre NY. 24 The 845 The Long Trail $46 Kirk, the Guide BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers 847 The Phantom Trail 98 William street, N, Y.
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Semi-Weekly. CONTENTS. Whoa, Emma! (New Yoesiéay Ten Minutes Too Late..... .. Miss Gruber’s Boarding House See That My Grave’s Kept Ch) ny Se OR ee ae 3 The Man in the Moon is Look- ww ing, Love ........ 3) “oTwixt Two Stools a Man Goes to the Ground”’....... Let the Girls Alone ..... .... They All Do It Rose of Killarney... ......... Johnny You’ve Been a Bad Boy Whoa, Emma! (Original Ver- Got i sya tert eee Anipel Gauriel 50.0. .75.----.-- Come, Gang Awa’ Wi’ Me... The Railroad Engineer’s Song 3 3 aLYe ee 1 My Pretty Red Rose..:....... 4 4 4 Cheer, Boys, Cheer ........... I Knew that I Was Dreaming. Auld Lang Syne.............. “Clicquot ’’... Landlord, Fill Your Flowing BOW A. Poe. tA as 7 A Good Time Coming..... ... 7 The Nightingale’s Trill...... 7 Co-ca-che-lunk......... ... ... 7| Py ae) eee ae ae a 7 EDOM ART: van tete ae sey dncesaee Under the Willow She’s Sleep- ING....- Fs mee 90h Se a 8 They Borrow, but Never Re- DEMS: wads cdtvaer teasers toeedte 8 (oe"" Sixty Songsin Number One! | Embracing the best new and Most | Popular Songs of the Dey—Gory- ' da: rights, Favorites, Stan is—Com- ic, Sentimental, Vernacular—mak. | ing it a complete Cyclopmdia of Song, adapted alike to the Parlor, Stage, Club and Street. m™ The Songs of the Best | Writers will be given in each is- sue of the SINGER’s Lisrary, viz.: Danks, Foster, Lae gga by Skel- | ly, Newcomb, Work, Frank How- 4 5 5 5 | Molly, Bawn... +... 2065... q 6 6 6 Copyrighted 1878, by BEADLE & ADAMs, Price, 5 Cents. ( y WW PP J il : ify ldtananscspersess# CONTENTS. Sweet By And By ............ Land of My Birth......... ... 8 Why Can’t I Have a Beaut. 9 | Roll Out! Heave Dat Cotton. 9 | The Butcher Boy ............. 9 | Waiting for Papa............ 9 Gay and Happy............... 10 | The Hazel Dell *:: ......... 10 | The Vacant Chair ............ 10 | Tom Bowling .... ........... 10 | I Muse on Thee . ............ 10 Pull Down Your Vest!....... 11 Rhine Vine Sharley.......... 11 Who Will Care for Mother Fl A eae 11 Heather Jock .. ..,.+:-ataeess 11 | “Crooked Whisky!’ ......... 12 French and English... ...... 12 | Juliana BAP ee gi Barbara Allan ............,... 12 Son of a Gambolier........... 13 The Midnight Bugle......... 13 Sing, Birdie, Sing............ 13 A AT SS 13 Call Me When Breakfast is tt gee si ge ee tees ee | Jim, The Carter Lad ........ 14 The Drunkard’s Raggit | WOMM1.<:..,., 2-2. ies tae 14 | Twinkling Stars’ .... ........ 14 The Marseilles Hymn ...... 14 | Put Me in My Little Bed.... 14 The Old English Squire...... 15 Lord Lovel e008... ag | Billy Larkin.......0.. 2. .0.. 15 | $3" The most “ taking ” Songs | of Gus_ Williams, Tony Pastor, | Lydia Thompson, E. H. Harding, Lotta, D.S. Wombold, Dave Reed, | Billy Emerson, Vivian, Lingard, Frank Wilder, Annie Louise Kel- \logg, Adah Richmond, Edward Harrigan, etc., ete., and all of the | best minstrel and variety troupe specialties, as sung throughout the | United States, will be included in | the HatF Dime SINGER’s Linrary. ’ | gar The Leading Music Publish- ers in America and England will | supply their newest and choicest | Songs to the HaL¥ Dove SinGER’s ard, Nash, Paul, Turner, Harri-| _ an, John Reed, Rexford, Straight, hee exter Smith, Cooper, Dempster, | Hood, Tom Moore, Dibdin, Corn- | Lusrary—which thus becomes the | only publication in America that FIFTY OR MORE SONGS IN EACH ISSUE, __ sims thels sues mesa 8s } ce La wall, Morris, Byron, Burns, Sep F public, at a nominal price. Winner, Rollin” Howard, Larry | English, Dutch, Soldier, College, i — Tooley. | Irish, Negro, Comic, Sentimental, tinnanv ee toad Pak gay Singers, Amat oa Scotch, Sailor, Humorous, And Social. | cain, yh ge sold by all a § 5 eurs and Ar- “ i utes ving Somat wo Dobe |g the Rig Hom, th Stet andthe Cah, The ery Coles ofErerying | Haley ba a a, », which they wish to in | : of § 7 | ie, = D ’ meine will confer a favor. veub- Incomparably the Cheapest, Most Convenient, and Delightful Collection of New and | the pee ediee fen on mitting them to the publishers of | Old, Popular and Standard Songs ever presented the American public! plied to aera tbs Fi Bee's trary 4, } ° a L. L s - Siete nose to: taal Pertan Each and Every Number Only One-Half Dime. ae kts. beings 1c. ae Repository of the Best Songs, Old, Sold by all newsdealers, five cents each; or, sent post-paid, to any add ‘reach of eve rel Of Some New, Copynghts, and Originals. | of six cents per copy. BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers: mt ho ined re ee rs, 98 William S&t., N. Y. | land.
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BEADLE’S HALF-DIME LIBRARY. Every one of them ‘“ Live® Stories by “‘ Live®? Authors. Each number a Complete Novel, at the extraordinary price of a HALF-DIME. 1 Deadwood Dick, Tar Prince or THE Roap; or, THe Buack RIDER OF THE BLACK Hints, By Edward L. Wheeler. 2 Yellowstone Jack; or, Tar TRAPPER OF THE ENCHANTED Grounp. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr., author of ‘ Pacific Pete,” etc. Kansas or, THe Rep RIGaT The Sea-Cat; or, THE WitcH or Han. By om A (Hon, Wm. F, Cody). The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 5 Vagabond Joe; THE YounG WANDER- In@ JEW. By Oll Coomes. 6 Bill Biddon, Trapper; or, Lirz In THE NortHwest. By Edward §. Ellis. The Yankee ; or, THE Ocran 7 Oe Col. Prentiss Ingraham. fe Seth Jones; or, THe CAPriIvES OF THE Frontier. By Edward 8. Ellis. 9 The Adventures of Baron Mun- chausen. 1 Nat Todd; or, THe Fate or THE Srovux Captive. A Sequel to ‘ Bill Biddon, Trapper.” By Edward 8. Ellis. 1 1 The Two Detectives; or, THe Fortunes of A Bowery Grru. By Albert W. Aiken, author of “ The Spotter Detective,” ete. 1 Gulliver's Travels. A Voyage to Lilliput, and a Voyage to Brobdingnag. 13 The Dumb Spy. By Oll Coomes, author of ‘“‘ Vagabond Joe,” etc. 1 4. Aladdin; or, THE WoNDERFUL LAMP. 1 Darian, By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 16 Robinson Crusoe. His Life and Surprising Adventures, (27 illustrations.) 1 ef Ralph Roy, The Boy Bucca- meer; or, THz FUGITIVE YACHT. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. EADLE 82 Large Three-Column Pages. 1.4 Hard Crowd: or, GenTLEMAN Sam’s Sister. By Philip S. Warne, author of ‘ Tiger Dick,” ete. 2. The Dare-Devil: or, THE WINGED Wircn oF THe SEA. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, au- thor of “Flying Yankee,” etc. 3. Kit Carson, Jr., THe Crack Snot or THE West. By Buckskin Sam. 4. The Kidnapper: or, THe GREAT SHANGHAI OF THE NorTHweEsT. By Philip S. Warne. 5. The Fire-Fiends: or, HeRcuLEs, THE Hoxompack. By A. P. Morris. 6. Wildcat Bob, Tue Boss Bruiser: or, Tae BorpER BLOODHOUNDS. By Edward L. Whee- ler, author of ‘‘ Deadwood Dick,” ‘ Double Daggers.” 7. Death-Notch, THz Dustrorer: oR, Tae Spretr Lake Avencers. By Oll Coomes, au- thor of ‘‘ Vagabond Joe,” ‘The Dumb Spy,”’ etc. 8. The Headless Horseman. A strange story of Texas. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 9. Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. 10. Vidoogs, Tue FRENCH Pouice Spy. Written by himself, aa Midshipman Easy. By Capt. Mar- ryat. 12. The Death-Shot: or, TRACKED TO Deatu. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 13. Pathaway: or, Nick WHIFFLES, THE ber Trapper of THE Nortuwest. By Dr. J. H. Rob- in. 14. Thayendanegea, THE ScOURGE ; or, Tar War-EaGLe oF THE Monawrs, By Ned Bunt- line, author of ‘‘ The White Wizard.” 15. The Tiger-Slayer: or, EaGir- Heap To THE Rescus. By Gusta» Aimard, author of ‘* Red Cedar,” “*The Bandit at Jay,” etc. 1 & Sindbad the Sailor. His seven voy- ages. From the Arabian Nights. 19 The Phantom Spy; or, Taz Prot OF THE Prarrie. By Buffalo Bill. 20 The Double Daggers; or, Drap- woop Dick’s Dmeriance. By Edward L. Wheeler, author of ‘‘ Deadwood Dick,” 21 Frontier Angel. A Romance of ; Kentucky Rangers’ Life, By Edward 8. Ellis, author of ‘Seth Jones,” ete, yd The Sea Serpent; or, Toe Boy Rogrinson Crusoe. By Col, Juan Lewis. 23 Nick o’ the Night:.or, THz Boy Spy or 76, By T. C. Harbaugh. Diamond Dirk: or, THe Mystery OF THE YELLOWSTONE. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, author of “The Flying Yankee,”’ etc. 2 5 The Boy Captain: or, THE Prrate’s DavueuTer. By Roger Starbuck. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Demon. Edward L, Wheeler 27 Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide. By Oll Coomes, 2k Buffalo Ben, the Prince of the Pistol: or, DEApwoop Dick 1n Diseuise. By Edward L. Wheeler 29 The Dumb Page; or, THe Docr’s Daveuter. By Capt. Frederick Whit- taker, author of ‘‘The Wild-Horse Hunters,” ete. 30 Roaring Ralph Rockwood, THE RecKiLEss RancerR. By Harry St. George. 31 Keen-Knife, THe PRINCE OF THE Prairies. By Oll Coomes. 32 Bob Woolf, the Border Ruffian: or, Toe Grau Deap-SHor. By Edward L. Wheeler, author of “ Deadwood Dick,” ete., etc. 3 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, THE RED PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEES. By Samuel W. Pierce, author of ‘‘The Boy Detective,” etc., etc. By 16. The White Wizard: on, Toe Great PROPHET OF THE. SEMINOLES. By Ned Buntiline, au- thor of “‘ Thayendanegea,” etc. 17. Nightshade, Tue Rosser Prince or Hounstow Hratu. By Dr, J. H. Robinson. 18. The Sea Bandit: or, THe QurEN or THE IsitE. By Ned Buntline, author of “ Thayen- danegea,’’ ‘‘ The Red Warrior,”’ etc. 19. Red Cedar, Tx Prarrre OvurTLAw. ustave Aimard, author of ‘The Tiger-Sla er,” “ Trapper’s Daughter,” “ Prairie Flower,” ete. e 20. The Bandit at Bay: or, THE Pr- RATES OF THE Prarries. By Gustave Aimard- au- thor of ** The Tiger-Slayer,” ‘* Red Cedar,” ete, 21. The Trapper’s Daughter: THE OUTLAW’S Fare “By Gustave of ‘‘ Tiger-Slayer,” ‘‘ Red Cedar,” ete. 22. Whitelaw: or, NATTIE or THE LAKE SHORB. Dr. J. H, Robinson, author of “ Patha- way,” “ Nightshade,” etc. 23. The Red Warrior: or, Sretia DELORME’s CoMANCHE LOVER. By. Ned Buntline, au- thor of “‘ Thayendanegea,”’ “‘ White Wizard,” etc. 24. Prairie Flower. By Gustave Ai- mard, author of “ Tiger-Slayer,” “ Bandit at Bay,” “ Trapper’s Daughter,” etc. 25. The Gold-Guide: on, SrerL Arm, THE REGULATOR, By Francis Johnson, author of ‘*The Death-Track,” etc. 26. The Death-Track: on, THE OUT- LAWS OF THE Mountain. By Francis Johnson, au- thor of ‘‘ Gold-Guide,” ete. 27. The Spotter-Detective: on, THE Grris oF New Yor. By Albert W. Aiken. 28. Three-Fingered Jack, THE Roap- AGENT oF THE Rockies; or, Toe Boy MinER oF Harp Luck. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. oR, mard, author 34 Oregon Sorry oe, ae WHirFr.izs’ Y ; t. J. F.C. Adams. Read March 19th. se oe y 3 5 Wild Ivan, Tu Boy CLavpe Dovat; or, THe BrorHerRHoop oF DEATH. Dead- wood Dick Romance No. 4. By Edward L. Wheeler. 36 The Boy Clown; or, THE QUEEN oF THE Arpya, By Frank 8, Finn, 3 vf The Hidden Lodge; or, Tae Litttz HUNTmoR OF. THE ADIRONDACKS. By T. C. Harbaugh, author of “ Nick o’ the Night,” etc. 3 &§ Ned Wylde, Tue Boy Scovt. Texas Jack. 39 Death-Face, the Detective; or, Lire AND, Love 1x New York. By Ed- word L. Wheeler. © 40 Roving Ben. A story of a Young American who wanted to see the world. By John J. Marshall. Al Lasso Jack, THE YOuNG Mustanc- ER. By Ol] Coomes. Ready 4 The Phantom Miner: or, Drap- woop Diack’s Bonanza, By Ed. L. Wheeler, author of ‘‘ Deadwood Dick, etc. Ready May 14th. 43 Dick Darling, the Pony Express Rider. A Story of the Overland Trail, By Capt. F. Whittaker. Ready May 2ist. Rattling Rube: or, Tse Nicnr- HAWES OF cKY. By Harry St. George. Ready May 28th. 4. 5 Old Avalanche, the Great An- nihilator: or, THE Girt Banpirt. By Edward L. Wheeler. Ready June 4th. 46 Glass Eye, the Great Shot ofthe West. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams, Ready June 11th. A new issue every week, The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per x or sent by mail on Sac t of six cents each. KADLE & ADAMS, ers, 98 William Street, New York. Price 10 cts. By Each Number Complete, 29. Tiger Dick, Tuz Faro Kina; or, Tue CASHIER’s Crm. By Philip S. Warne, author of “A Hard Crowd,” etc. 30. Gospel George; or, Frery FRED, THe Ovttaw. By Joseph E. ig Jr., author of “ Three-Fingered Jack,” “Old Bull’s Eye,” etc. 31. The New York ‘S 3? or, THE FiasH oF Ligurnine. By Albert W. Aiken, author ef ‘Spotter Detective,’’ etc., etc, 32. B’hoys of Yale; or, THe Scrapes or A Harp Set or CoLiteeians, By John D. Vose. 33. Overland Kit. By Albert W. Aiken. 34. Rocky Mountain Rob. bert W. Aiken. 35. Kentuck, the Sport. By Albert W. Aiken. 36. Injun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken. 37. Hirl, the Hunchback; orn, THE SWORDMAKER OF THE SANTEE. By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 38. Velvet Hand; or, Toe IRonGRIPor | Ingun Dick. By Albert W. Aiken, Ready May 8th, 39. The Russian Spy: on, THE Brors- ERS OF THE STaRRy Cross. By erick Whittaker, Ready May 15th. 40. The Long Haired *Pards;’ or, THE TARTARS OF THE 8. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. Ready May 22d. 41. Gold Dan: or, THE Wairr SavaGE OF THE GREAT SALT By Albert W. Aiken. May 29th. A new issue every week. Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of twelve cents each, BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. By Al-