Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 422) (1885 08 25)
The text was read from the page scans by machine (OCR), so it has mistakes and its columns may run together. See the pages · About this title · At the Internet Archive
Page 1
Vol, XVIL ‘¢al. depths the environ- Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. $2.50 a Year. ——————— Baby Sam, The Boy Giant cf the Yellowstone; OR, Old Spokane Jdoe’s Trust. BY OLL COOMES, ‘* HERCULES, THE DUMB DE- STROYER,” ETC., ETC, CHAPTER I. THE PLEASURE PARTY. Far up on the borders of the Yellowstone Park, on the rugged breast of the grim old mountains, Mary’s Lake lay sparkling like a jewel under a bright September sun —mirroring in its crys- AUTHOR OF ing peaks that rose thousands of fect above it on all sides. Dotted with several little islands and in- dented with narrow tongues of land cover- ed with the richest of foliage that was now all aglow with the soft autumnal tints, the lakelet and its sur- roundings presented as grand and romantic a picture as ever en-+ raptured -the human neart or filled the mind and soul with the majesty and power of the Creator. A party of four per- sons, drawing rein on an eminence overlook- ing this lake, gazed in speechless wonder and admiration on the scene outspread before them. Two men and two women composed the party—all in the very prime of young man and womanhood. The eldest of the four must have been about five-and-twenty years of age. He was a@ man a little above medium hight, with a well - developed phy- ae a handsome, in- telligent face, dark- blue eyes and areyy brown mustache, C) sat his horse like a young cavalier, and no one looking upon Frank Rodman could have regarded him as +) Ab Second Class Mail Rates. *“ME? WELL, I'M PLAIN KA-RISTOPHER KO LUMBUS BANDY, AND—”’ DETECTIVE!’ EXCLAIMED SAM. it Tl i i tC! he: Copyright, 1885, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, No, 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. aught else than a gallant and manly young man. He was well-dressed and well-mounted, and carried a rifle and a pair of revolvers hung at his saddle-bow. At Frank Rodman’s side rode Miss Sarah Marshall, a blue-eyed, fair-faced girl of eigh- teen, whose ladylike bearing and vivacious spirit made her in every respect worthy of the atten- tion of her gallant cavalier. The thir rson, Frederick Sears, was a young man of two-and-twenty, strong and ro- bat. with an intelligent face and pleasant ad- dress, Like Rodman, he was well-mounted and armed with rifle and revolvers, At Sears’s side rode Wilma Rodman, Frank’s sister, who would have attracted more attention than any one of the four. She was, perhaps, seventeen years of age, with a form, while rather petite, possessed of all the graces of per- fect womanhood, and a face of rare beauty ““NOT OLD KIT BANDY, THE MOUNTAIN 1 SHOULD LAUGH TO SMILE TRAT I AM THAT MAN,”’ ml iO August 25, 188%. No. 422. ne ae nanos wyenee eee | Price, 5 Cents. made radiant in its loveliness by its intellectual brightness and the peerless bearing of its pos- sessor. Her eyes, shaded with long dark inches, were of a dark brown, large and lustrous. Her rosy cheeks and dimpled chin had been touched with brown by exposure to sun and wind, but this served rather to highten her beauty than te mar it. These four young people were residents of the Gallatin valley, and were on their way for a trip through the Yellowstone Park, of whose wonders they had heard so much. Wilma Rodman had been the leading spirit in getting up the party. She so dearly loved the wild, romantic and rug; scenery of the mountains that she would give her brother Frank no rest nor peace until he had not only promised to take her to the Park, but had actually started on the trip. They were well Bt for the journey, eing provided with tents, cooking utensils and food, all of which were loaned upon the backs of four pack horses. They had come in by the old Bozeman trail, and before leaving home it had been ar- ranged that they ge into camp at Mary’s Lake fora day or two, or until they were joined there by a fifth rson who was to be heir guide during their stay in the Park, This person was none other than the noted Baby Sai, the Boy Giant of the Yellow: stone; and when they came in sight of the lake, its presence sent a thrill through Wil- ma’s breast that per- haps none of the others experienced—not that they were less enthu. siastic or less capable of appreciating the scene—but because it was the appointed hay of meeting with er big-hearted boy lover. Besides the young mountaineer their number was to further increased by a party of three men, on their arrival at the Yellowstone Lake. One of these was Wil- ma and Frank’s fa- ther, who, with au old hunter named Spokane Joe, was assisting one Professor Drood, of the Government. .ser- vice, in making some geological rescarehes in the wonderful *¥al
Page 2
but of them we will speak more fully here- alter. Mary’s Lake was not over two miles away when it first burst upon the sight of the four happy youg tourists, and their animals seem- ing to become imbued with their own eager and exuberant spirits quickened their pace and in a short time the western shore of the lake was reached, To dismount, unpack and unsaddle their horses and tether them out to grass that grew luxuri- autly hard by, occupied but a few short minutes, when the party sought the shade of a cluster of pines close by the Jake and sat down to rest and enjoy the beauty and majesty of the scene out- spréad before them. _ Baby Sam was to have met them there at noon that day, when he was totake them, in a canoe he had concealed somewhere along tho west shore, to a lovely little island out some forty rods in the lake, there to spend the after- noon and the coming night. The Boy had named it Wilma Isle, for he had often told her that it was the loveliest spot he had ever seen, being possessed of some strange and ro- mantic sights and sounds. _ It was just ten o’clock when they reached tho Jake, so they would not have long to wait should Baby Sam be on time, “That,” said Frank Rodman, pointing toward the nearest island in the lake, ‘*must be Sam’s Wilma Isle,” ‘*T presume so,” replied Wilma, her fair face aglow with expectancy and admiration; ‘and I’m quite anxious to visit the island. Sam says that after night the waves chafing the pebbly shore make a faint, weird, sweet mmsic that fairly charms the soul.” “To him, I suppose, the music of tho waves is like that of your voice,” remarked Frank, “which accounts for the name of the island,’ whereupon he burst into a peal of Siege laughter that was caught up by the wonderfu echoes around them and sent dancing away into the mountains, like the laugh of a hundred satyrs. “Oh, Frank!” quickly exclaimed Wilma, as the dying echoes suddenly filled her mind witha vague fear; ‘“‘ whatif those bloodthirsty Sioux should dig up the hatchet again and raid over into the Yellowstone?” . ‘*Such a thing is possible, though hardly - probable. If they should strike anywhere, it would be at the settlements in the Gallatin and Upper Yellowstone. All a raid in the Park would benefit them wouldn’t pay for the trou- ble.” “Pye been inclined to think, Frank,” said Fred Sears, ‘‘that the cattlemen over in the Yellowstone are really uneasy, for they’ve been talking of moving their herds into the Galla- 7 ” ‘Oh, the red-skins will steal cattle at any Giant | Baby Sam, was a es time, Fred, and for that reason I suppose_the, herders want to get further from them. Gen- erals Custer and Reno are xeepieg a watch on old Sitting Bull, and the first ak he makes you'll hear of some lively music. But, I'll tell you: I believe that outlaw, Scott Dresden, is at the head of half of all the devilment accredited to the Indians. If Sitting Bull, the old fool, would scalp.him, he might not have any but his own sins to gccount for. Thus the conversation ran on until the first thing they knew it was noon; but Baby Sam had not Lae put in an appearance. Dinner was poned an hour, but when one o’clock came the youth had not arrived, and so they ate their meal and waited on. One, two, hours _ went by but they brought not the expected " guide. Uneasiness now oe pet baa upon the faces of the girls, and a jong Wilma, unable to restrain her feelings longer, said: _ Msg afraid something has happened him, “Oh, fiddlesticks!” a the brother, in his blunt, bluff way, “he'll be rest assured of that. Baby Sam’s old enough, and I’m sure, big enough, to take care of himself. What does an hour or. two, or a half-day for that matter, amount to? I didn’t expect he would be here on time to the very minute.” “But he thought he would get here ahead of ” \ conte he did: he'll find out his— Hark! T'll bet that’s Sam coming now.” The clatter of 2 horse’s hoofs was heard com- ing down the valley, and ing to their feet the party ran to the edge of the grove and lanced up the pass down which they saw a Comenan riding, at a sweeping gallop, , Acry of joy burst from their lips, for they saw it was Baby Sam, and stepping out into plain view the men swung their hats above their ' - aby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone. heads and gave utterance toa shout. The Bo Giant answered them with a wave of his hand. A minute later the youth had reached the lake, and springing from his saddle advanced and shook hands with his friends; saying: ‘‘Tam glad to see you all here, but am very sorry I have kept you waiting. How do you all do?—how long have you been here?—have a pleasant journey ?” “Quite pleasant, indeed;” responded Frank Rodman, in his usual happy way; ‘been here since ten o’clock and all’s well, and we are truly glad to see you, for some of our folks were get- ting a little restless,” ‘**T am sorry, indeed,” replied the young moun- taineer, “‘ but Pll explain the cause of my delay as soon as I put my horse out to grass,” To unsaddle his hard-ridden animal and tether it out required but a few minutes, when he turned and rejoined his friends by the lake, Samuel Burling, or as he was better known, boy but nineteen years of age, and yet he stood fully five feet ten inches in hight. He was powerfully built, with a well- knit frame, square shoulders, deep chest, and a large, well-shaped head set on An athlete's neck. His face was smooth and boyish, yet wore an expression indicative of force of character, cour- age and intelligence, His eyes were large and of a dark-gray color, his brow broad,.and his mouth, though rather large, was well-shaped art the most expressive feature of the attractive ‘ace. He was dressed in a neat-fitting suit made after the style so peculiar to the ranchero of tho western plains. He was armed with a Win- chester rifle, a large-sized revolver and a himt- ing-knife. Around his waist was a belt filled with rifle and revolver cartridges. Most of this boy’s life had been spent in the settlements of the Yellowstone and Gallatin valleys, When but twelve years old he was left an orphan in the care of a kind-hearted yet eccentric old bachelor uncle who divided his time between cattle-raising and hunting. The old man was very considerate of Sam’s welfare, and being a person of a fair education, he took great pains in teaching Sam, who soon obtained an excellent knowledge of the usual English branches. But the lad had always loved the monntains, and so became a hunter and trapper, and some years before Professor Hayden’s formal explo- ration of the Yellowstone Park, Baby Sam had seen rien cons a of wonder and interest in the valley in ramblings after game. As a rifle and pistol-shot he had no equal in the valley, and as a cowboy he could handle the whip or lasso with consummate skill, and was, as well, a splendid and daring horseman. But the most remarkable thing about this Western Jad was his physical strength, Not a manamong all the stalwart residents in the Gallatin was a match for him, and it was this prodigious gee." more than his stature that had given him the name ee ats goats “en 3 es, ’m sorry you waiting even an hour,” repeated the young hill-haunter, ‘* but the boys and I got into trouble over in the Yel- lowstone. You see, we'd concluded to drive our cattle over to the Gallatin, and had started, when we were attacked by about fifty Indians and ou ‘Oh, dear! dear!” cried the maidens, “Now, don’t get excited, girls,” the boy went on, ‘‘for remember all this occurred over one hundred miles from here; moreover, we frus- trated the Indians’ attempt to stampede our herd, and turned inand gave them a runnin fight for over half a day, and that is what me behind. In fact, had it not_been for t raglan gay; tay ata a sinh py been a full y behind. Assoon as we got the herd across the ran I pe Se boys og lag wees Mary’s Lake. Now, Isu ne ing is to get over to yonder . ‘Wilma Isle,” “Yes, we're all anxious, Sam,” said Frank , ‘to hear your musical island give an << ee in, ‘But, Sam murred a, tl htfully, ‘will it not be d for us to venture into the valley if dians making are g eT expect I foolish sayi , bout e was saying an al Indians,” Baby Sam he ie Sale not have moment’s enjoyment, Wilma, I'm afraid; but ou need have no fears. I'll go and see if t ean find the canoe I left over a year ago round yon- der in a little cavern.” He hurried away, and while gone the young tourists made preparations for embarking to the But few minutes had elapsed when Sam re- turned with his boat, - got to be done; those girls must be rescued “Tt’s a small affair, folks,” he confessed, ‘‘ and will not carry over three persons; and, as it’s leg the ladies first, I'll take Wilma and Se h to the island the first trip, and you boys next. To this there was no objection; so taking their seats in the canoe Sam pulled out into the placid waters of the lake and paddled carefully to Wilma Isle. Assisting them to land tho oung guide said, as he again took his seat in tho oat: ‘Now, while I’m after the boys, you girls can reconnoiter the island and see that there are no bears around,” and ‘with a laugh, ke dipped the paddle and glided out from the island. With a wave of her hand Wilma and Sarah turned and walked back among the dense pines that covered-the little island, while a few vigor- ous strokes carried the Boy Giant back to where Frank and Fred were waiting. “Pile in, boys,” he ordered; ‘I'll run you over and then come back after our camp traps.” e two yeung men seated themselves in the boat, and the craft started on its return trip to the island; but; it had gone less:than ten rods when an exclamation burst {rom Fred Sears’s lips, and pointing downward alongside the boat, he said: ‘* A floater, by, smoke!” Baby Sam backed water with. his paddle and, gazing down at the object, beheld the lithe t ody of an Indian lying in the water—all but his face being Submerged; and around that some aquatic grass was tangled. Ataglance Sam saw that the Indian was alive, and recognized him as q young Crow, known ‘as, Sparrowhawk, a trne and faithful friend of his and the settlers of ths oy Ste ‘* Good gracious, Sparrowhawk! what are you doing hed a A ag . ; The Indian shook his head, then said in broken English; : ‘Don’t talk loud—Siouw hear you !” *Waat do you mean, Sparrowhawk?” “One, two—four—six Sioux warriors hid on island—no go there—git killed—scalped—Spar- rowhawk come tell white friend quick he git way “out Sioux see him.” *“Can that be possible, Sam?” asked Frank odman. “That Indian is as true as steel, Frank; I ha- | lieve him.” “ Great heavens! what will become of Wilma and Sarah?” asked Fred Sears, j ““Yes—they git in trouble,” declared the In: an. ‘ &R Sparrowhawk, where did you come from?” questioned Sam. , From island—lay in water by rock—Sioux close by—no git away till girls come to island— then Sioux slip into thicket—then me swim away—me friesd to pale-face—me Crow—Sioux me if catch—go back—quick—they kill you!” “Sparrowhawk,” began Baby Sam, but be- fore he could finish the sentence a faint scream eame to his ears from the island that told him the girls were in trouble—that the young Crow had told the truth. “My God! what shall we do?’ exclaimed Frank Rodman. The situation was indeed a critical one. Quick decision and prompt action were now required and dipping his paddle Baby Sam sent the boa back of the shore. As he did so the young In- i le are ito ibe woter tine 2 beaver, and disappeared from the sight of the trio: Landing, Sam led the way back into the bushes out of sight of the island. _. “Boys,” he said, his voice and features be- traying his inward emotions, “our coming to this pitice has been anticipated by those red devils, By some means or other they have learned that we were to be here. I tell you there’s —, atthe bottom of it.” “No doubt of it, Sam, but who is the traitor?” queried an. | “‘ Ah, who, indeed?” responded the Boy Giant. CHAPTER It. ' A STRANGE DUEL, “Boys.” said Baby Sam, after a moment's si- lent reflection, “ this is a terrible state of af- fairs—a sad ending, or, rather beginning, of what had promised so much pleasure and en- _jeyment to Wilmaand Sarah. But something's “Sam. what can we three do in the face of six or eight ambushed savages?’ asked Frank an. “ What can we do?” repeated the young giant all the latent courage of his nature now ‘fully ; ‘we can die, Frank. 1 now propose going straight to that island—alone if no one
Page 3
till I whip them or fail!” 1 ‘‘Ay, Sam!'my heroic young friend, I will ‘go with you!” declared Frank Rodman. ‘1 too, Sam!” added Fred Sears. ‘| Boys,” warned Sam; ‘weigh the, matter well in your minds before you act. . He, who starts to yonder island takes his life in: his hand. Every one of us niay be riddled with bullets be- fore we're ten rods from this shore.” ‘* We will.all die together then,” was I'rank’s ! response, , * All right, boys; let’s get,ready,” and Baby Sam examined his revolver, huckled his cari- ridge-belt aroundthim and toek\up his rifle. Frank and -Fred were soon ready, and the three entered the canoe again. With the samo steadiness of nerve and Jong, vigorous strokes that had marked his -previous passage to the island, the Boy Giant plied the padale. Soon the island. was reached without any de- monstration from the foe, and, in, hopes. of keep- : ing the Indians in ignorance of their knowledge of the situation—the, presence of the foe.on the island—Baby Sam leaped ashore, and in a loud voice called, out: ‘* Hullo, Wilma—Sarah! where are you, girls?” There being no, answer, the bravo fellows whose courage was now undergoing the crucial test, began whistling a sprightly lay—at the same time leading the way across. the island. Near the center of 20 island they debouched into a little opening, virich. was; half -crossed when they were bLroupt to.a stand »by a quick movement im the bushes before then Instantly the hands of \the trio sought their revolvers. A ‘sharp, wild. yell, more. like the bark of hyenas, broke the silence of the,place, and the next imstant eight savages burst from ambush with uplifted, tomahawks and rushed as upon the whites. Quickly the revolvers of the latter rung out almost as one. A savage fell dead in-his tracks; - another stopped short, reeled backward \and + me drop in the edge of the shrubbery; while the ie - third, dropping his tomahawk, sunk to his knees, clutching wildly at his breast. At tho samo ' | time a fourth savage fell dead, his head cloven ( . by the tomahawk ef a friend who, coming in wild baste. behind, and endeavoring to throw his hatchet, caught it against a twig, thereby deflecting its course with fatal result to his brother brave. Sinultaneous with the fall of the red-skins ‘rank Rodman and Fred Sears sunk down un- cer the blows of flying hatchets, and the Boy Giant stood alone contending with the foe, A brawny red-skin rushed forward and with aaeend tae in hand was bending over the ‘prostrate form of Rodman when a lithe form— hat of Sparrowhawk, the friendly Crow— leaped through the bushes, struck tho savage a deadly blow, and then seized the form of young Rodman and dragged it into the thieket. All this had occurred in almost a moment. At one blow, as it were, five of the red-skins } and two of the whites had been stricken down, and the Boy Giant-now stood alone, confronted by three powerful warriors. Before he could fire a second shot a flying tomahawk struck his revolver and knocking it from his hand carried it out of reach, thus leaving him empty-handed, to continue the struggle. But, never flinching, he leaped at the red imps with clinched fists, his eyes fairly burnin with their fierce glare. and his features set wit the rigidness of marble. sratcely aware of what he was doing,-he struck righ¢ and left in his frenzied might, and ina moment two of the remaining Sioux were down and the third 6no —he who had accidentally slain his comrade— turned to flee, 5 . But at this very instant, when victory seemed within the grasp of the young giant, a@ white man—a confederate of the savages, who had hitherto kept concealed in the bushes—dashed } from his covert and running up struck tho young athlete on the head from behind with a club that brought him to his knees, half stunned, and before he could recover, three more white men rushed from the bushes and grasping him bore him to the ground. A desperate strugele now ensued, in which the young giant gavo the villains a hard. fight, but the odds were too grat for even /his marvelous strength, and, \ ally overpowered, he was sscurely bound. When he was permitted 'tovrise to his feet and look around him, a sight met his gaze that would have dispelled all hope from. the breast of one less resolute and courageous than Baby Sam. His young friend, Sears, lay dead among the savages. was gone, but whether living or dead he knew not. He bad seen him bi > —— ~ Z 4 fall and ke had seen Sparrowhawk drag him ity : | ie errs . Laer ; 2} ee ae es aceasta ite 3 ar — ¢ 5 Sa eh At Ls i =, 2. cares to gowith me, and fight the whole horde away. Before him stood ,three living savages and four white men. The latter he knew .were outlaws, for among them he recognized the no- torious Scott Dresden—an outlaw leader whose security had been guaranteed within the village of Sittmg Bull in view of his services against the white settlers in the Yellowstone and Gal- latin valleys. “ Wilma and Sarah could not be seen or heard, and the boy felt. satisfied that they had. been spirited away from the island. Tho surviving savages became, furious over the death of their friends, and it was.as much as the outlaws could do to restrain them from slaying the youthful Hercules. Among the warriors was one whose voice told that he was a white. man arrayed in the, paint and para- phernalia of a Sioux. Ho was tall and angular, withlong arms, a sharp face, a peculiar-shaped head, enormous mouth, Jarge ears, and small gray.eyes, overhanging shaggy brows... de seemed even more vindictive toward the pris- oner, than. did his friends, but as he was the man who had accidentally slain his comrado at the beginning of the conflict, it was probable that that mishap had something to do with his fury, for, not knowing but his surviving friends had witnessed his fatal blunder, he was en- deavoring to maintain his standing as a war- rior by boasting and, forced-expressions of 1e- sentment, “Waugh!” bho-exclaimed, «cs he brandished his scalping-knife before the face of the pris- oner, ‘‘ Big Horn, the Sure Shot, is thirsting for the gore of the pale-face! Iie would scalp him alive and then roast him ‘in fire like a Cog! Waugh! let-:me at him!” ‘Stand kack, Big Horn!’ commanded Scott Dresden, the outlaw chief; ‘I want to save that fellow. . ’ve,use for, him,” “Ugh!” ¢grunted Big Horn, with a vicious snap. of the eyes; ‘if you want to save him rou’d better tio me up—P?m mad—’m wild, erocious! The Great Spirit has let me loose. The pale-faces are my enemies. They invade our Raita’ = gounds and slay our brayes, Waugh! the spirits ef forty-leven dead war- riors are surging in my breast, pantin’ for the gore of that big prisoner. To shake the scalp of the Boy Giant of the Yallerstun undér the nose of the great Sittin’ Bull would land me in the breech-clout and head-gear of a great and miphty war-chief,” (youre a mighty focl of an Indiah now,” retorted Scott Dresden; ‘‘you slop over won- derfully in the presence of a helpless foo.” ““My Indian blood’s fermenting, Captain Dresden,” replied the rénegade, evidently net- fled by tho stinging sarcasm of tho outlaw, ‘and don’t you forgit to disrernember that I’m the crack pistol-shot of the far Nor’west.” **You can claim that honor now, since Baby Sam is off duty, but if my memory serves me right he had the reputation of being boss of tho revolver in this country.” “I deny it, captain, and challenge you to prove it now while youcan, Isay that I am, and have been the prince of the pistol, and dare you to prove the contrary. Now then, ye want o come to the scratch or gig like a man. I are ready to prove my claim in any way you may elect. I’m sure that’s fair as a summer sky.” “All right; you'll stand to that, will you?” responded Dresdén, with a sinister light in his eyes. wy rn! do what I say I will,” declated Big. Horn; “Pm no crawfish or chicken-giz- Zar’ “Then T suggest that each of you take a re- volver, and, at fifty paces apart, turn your backs to each other, and at the word ‘three,’ turn and advance, firing as you go and when you please,” “That'd be a reg’ler duel,” exclaimed Big Horn, in apparent surprise. “I know it, but the best, shot’d win. If you're what you claim you are, Fe tun no risk; butif Baby Samuel, gits in his work on you, why he’ll be permitted to go free, This, now, is the way I elect, and you can come 'to the scratch now, or gig.” “T tellye I never go back on Py word,” averred Big Horn, boastfully; “ but en, ill be too bad.to let that big Ingin-shooter go free if he plugs me. He’s the wu’st enemy we Sioux have got.” : Pemecte “Then on want to drop him, and if A artis the superb shot you claim to be, you do the oux n favor as well as prove your iain. “All right; I’m ready for blood, Yoop-pee! Pm the big Ingin from ’way, way over!” howled the renegade; and while he was thus parading himself, Scott Dresden took two of his men aside and said to them: : Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstor e —_—_—_—_———— 2 aw. See. eee OE ee eee eee — 2 Se ee Oe ee ee Seas “Y'm beginning to think that we need that renegade out of the way as bad as the Indiahs want Baby Sam removed. T believe he is a treacherous old scamp, who has wormed him- self into the confidente Of old Sitting Bull. I have been led to this conclusion by his presente here.. He wasnot selected as one of the party for this éxpedition, but, somehow ‘or other, by eavesdropping, I suppose—he has got wind of it and forced himself upon us, TH swear, if we'd got hero during the fight T'd have dropped him accidentally,” i “*Tt isn’t too late yet, captain,” suggested one of the outlaws, *“Yos; them Indians ’d repcrt us to Sitting Bull, and then we'd be out our best friend. No, I think the ‘best plan is to let him’ and Baby Sam settle thé question as to their marksmaan- ship—for which I care nothing on earthend in doing so I think they'll settle each other, for both are undoubtedly fine shots.” But, suppose the big hoy refuses to fight?” “No danger of that on the terms I offered. Of course, if I thought he’d escape being killed, Vd withdraw that offer; but I have ‘no fears but they'll finich each other, However, we ¢an see what can be done, and that at once.” Meanwhile the renegade kept ‘up his wild boasting’s in ‘the presence of the captive, and finally he stole up to him'plaring him squarely in the éyes, with his knife raised as if to strike. But Sam never flinched, and Tike a cat stealing upon a bird the villain crept closer and Clover until his Sharp nose almost touched the boy’s cheek, and in.a low tone he hissed’ some words in the prisoner’s car that caused the youth to start as though it were the hiss of a serpetit. Then, with a wild yell, the old renegade leaped backward, brandishing his knife before the pris- oner's face and inte like a snarling wolf. “Say, Jet this ‘monkey ‘work stop,” com- manded Dresden as he came back: “Baby Sain, what do you say; will you fight that fool, Big Horn, on the terms I have stated?” “Yes; if you give me my own revolver,” fe- sponded the Boy Giant, * All right, youshall haveit. ‘Let tis retite to the beach.” The prisoner was conducted across the island to the east sicle, Where lay a long, level stretch of sandy beach fully four rods in width, and as they passed along Sam saw where something had been dragred from tke grove to the water’s edge, He knew at once it had been a canoe, in which Wilma and Sarzh kad doubtless’ been removed from the island. The duelists wére Stationed near tho waters edge, fifty paces apart, with hacks turned) upon each other. aby Sam’s left hand was ‘fastenell at his back and “ais fect so tied together that he could take but a short step. The outinws would not trust him with too much liberty. His dwn revolver was given him, the empty chanibers being all refilled from his cartridge-belt. An outlaw remained with him asa second, — Another stéod near the renegade, while Drésden and the others Rope at the edge of the grove, nbotit half-way etween, A resolute look was upon the face of the Boy Giant as he cocked his revolver and ‘stood awaiting the signal to act. “Ready!” suddenly rung out the voice of Dresden. , The combatants started and every rérve in their bodies seemed. called into action. “ One,” courted Dresden, and thé eyes of the Boy, Giant flashed like a startled buck’s. | — “Teo.” The youth’s head turned slightly. Three !” ‘ te, ii The word was but cleverly ‘out of the out- law’s mouth ere the duelists spun Trothd tpon their heels, and, as they did #0 their revolvers rung out as one, butinstead of the’ principals, the two seconds fell dead? And before Dres- den and his companions could realize the terri- ble situation, the weapons of the two ‘deatlly pistol-shots spoke again, and an outlaw ‘and savage fell’ lifeless at the side of the dutlaw cniei! With a cry of baffled tritmph Dresden ‘and his surviving friend turnéd and fled for their lives into the grove, eae | the two strange duelists, the renegade ‘and the Boy Giant standing alone per gi tes ed on’ the fidld of honor! . ye CHAPTER ITI, ii nba" E BABY Bay ews fitz nioment that Baby Sam'siw his enétilies puso HH the grove ‘with affright, Ei and bi is “hobbling toward the renégade, ig ‘Horn, who also advanced until they meth -orivulsed with silent laughter. ‘hipping out the knife he had flourished but =
Page 4
4 afew minutes before in the face of the boy, the man severed the youth’s bonds, and then paid: ** Now let’s git to cover, lad, or them other fellers may take a hand in this shootin’ mati- Sam followed the renegade into the bushes, where the latter turned, and putting out his big bony hand, said: “Put her thar, Baby Samuel!” and the two scame together with a sharp smack, ‘‘ Ha, he, boy! Tes a tie atween the two great pistol-shots o’ the North! Great horn of Joshua! did you ever see a nicer job set up on the chil- dren of Satan? Did ye ever see a duel worked off in sich a bang-up style? You thought I war jokin’ when I fu’st whispered to you thar, in the lade, didn’t ye? Lordy! don’t 1 makea savory, ae Ingin, though! Can’t I put on the vari- ations and curlamacues with frills in front and gores up the side! Didn’t I split that Ingin’s gourd accidentally a-purpose in a real Mosaic style! Say, lad, I know you're a fine shot, a brave boy, and all that, but if you’d run with ame awhile, you’d soon be a double-breasted roarer from Roarerville.” *“ Well, who in the plague are you, anyhow?” flemanded Sam, as soon as able to get in a word for the man’s action, and talk, and the faithful manner in which he had carried out the whis- | months, And if that be the case, then thar’s | had they been on the open plain, for they knew pered promise made in the grove, puzzled him | some one in the settlement of the Gallatin that | the foe would follow one straight course to the most an pagpenes & posted Dresden in even the details of your trip | river, at least. And being satisfied the Indians Looking carefully around him as if to be as- | to this place.” would not be ope pursuit, unless Dresden” he said: ‘Yes, that’s very plain to be seen, Bandy,” | and his friends had overtaken them and in- sured that no one was hear, **T reckon them survivin’ fellows will pike out for a place less malarious, for thisis a sick- ly island; but, oh! horn of Joshua! Ill be marked for red-skin vengeance forthwith and forever, amen! Id liked io have saved them two gals, boy, but situated as I was I could do nothin’, and so they were hurried away from the island in charge of two big bucks that kept the island between you and them so’s you couldn’t see em. They’re to be taken to the Ingin village, and mebby you and me cafi catch ’em before they git there.” “But say,” interrupted Sam, you ?” “Me? Well, I’m plain Ka-ristopher Ko-lum- bus Sarge and—” “Not Old Kit Bandy, the Mountain Detec- tive?’ exclaimed the amazed Sam. “T should laugh to smile that I am that man —ay, | am more than that! I am a refugee from the turmoils and sorrows of domestic in- felicity. With this paint off my face, and these Ingin habiliaments somewhat reversed, you'd see a poor, haggard, heart-broken, down-~ east, storm battered-lookin’ old relic of a once gay and festive gambolier. But marryin’, boy —marryin’s done the destructive work for me! My wife, Sabina Bandy, I hold responsible for the old, blistered, cadaverous, reel-footed hulk you see drifted afore you. She war a devoted wife—an affectionate helpmeet, but,she allers kissed me at a distance—said distance lent en- chantment. Do you see that scar there? Well her proxy, an iron skillet, kissed me there; an there's whar the carvin’-knife, flipped from the ends o’ her pink-nailed fingers, embraced me; and there—right there, Sammy, ’s whar I war esculated with a sad-iron. This sunflower here’s not a birth-mark, Samuel; oh, no! it’s where *Bina love-branded me with a red-hot shovel. Oh! I’m a total wreck—I’m the ruins o’ Baby- lon—the downfall of the Roman Empire—the destruction 0’ Herculaneum! That’s why ’ma refugee—why I took to the timber—the moun- i I’m here for peace, “who are Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, rocla- nd me for work. What shall it be fu’st? Just mate, boy, what it shall be, and you'll your twin-brother till death do us part.” “Tf I knew,” said the young mountaineer, what Pa tg you Indians and the outlaws to bs island, could determine then what to do st. ‘Boy, I can tell ye what I know ‘bout it. Captain Dresden, you know, stays in the Ingin village, and I’ve been makin’ it a pint to watch him closely, and by a little systematic eaves- droppin’ I learned that a select party of red- skins, with a reserve of outlaws led by Dresden himself, war to visit this island, but for what purpose I couldn’t learn. But I knew it was for nothin’ good, so I made up my mind that I’d go on a little expedition o' my own, end so I pulled out for this lake and got here ahead 0’ the others. When they found I war here they couldn’t do any better than" to take me into their party. They told me some white squaws would come there soon, and that we'd git the scalp of the Boy Giant. This tickled meso that I couldn’t hardly hold in. What follered you already know, and had I been able to get ashore I’d ’a’ warned you of the ambush. ow my honest opinion is that this expedition war made here in the interest of Scott Dresden, or a friend 0’ his that’s been hangin’ round the village some mded the boy, ‘‘ but I can’t think who the traitor can be. But say, my handsome red- skin, it’?ll pay you and me both to see that those other fellows don’t escape alive from this island.” 4 asians “Verily you speak the truth; your head’s level as the calm, blue ocean. I know it’ll be healthier for me if all the witnesses to our duel are tunneled with lead, so let’s hunt the rascals down.” **Come on!” cried Baby Sam, grasping his re- volver. . ‘That sounds heroic —‘come on!’— noble words! I’m better on a follow than a lead, when the danger’sin front, To follow you is protec- tion, for you’re broad and deep enough, boy, to stop a six-pound cannon-ball. Yes, Pil follow, for I want to show ye some 0’ my fightin’ quali- ties—that I’m a hu'1 litter o’ wild-cats, a flock 0’ bald-eagles—a mule team with a brindle pup thrown in—a Jersey bull with a curl in the fore- head. But look sharp, lad, that the varmints don’t git the drap on your barn side,” With noiseless celerity the Boy Giant glided away through the bushes, his form slightly in- clined forward, and his big eyes on the watch like those of a deer that scented danger. And the eccentric Kit Bandy moved along—not be- hind, but at his side, with all the silence and suppleness of one accustomed to the dangers of the trail. . Thus the two searched the grove, but finding nothing of the foe they made the circuit of the island, and, to their regret, discovered where Dresden and his two friends had escaped in a boat. ‘Horn of Joshua!” exclaimed Bandy, regret- fully; ‘‘I’m to blame for their escape. I stood down thar and cackled like an old fool when I'd ought to been at work. But that’s the trouble with me, Baby—too much lip! I’ma splendid fighter, feeder, and a sound sleeper, but when this old mouth gits set a-goin’ it makes a ‘tar- a o me. But what now, Baby Sam- ue To his great joy, the young giant not only re- covered his revo]vers, but his erate Ww ihAiaiten and cartridge-belt. The two latter had been taken sin of, when the lad was captured, by an Indian, who had carefully set them aside when he went out to witness the duel in which he himself had fallen. Crossing Over to the west side of the lake, an- other bitter surprise awaited Sam. His and the tonrists’ horses had all been stolen along with all the most valuable pare of their camp outfit, and the trail left behind told that the thieves had taken a southeasterly route around the lake. The boy guide regarded this loss with philo- sophical coolness, but instead of following the horse-tracks he started off around the lake in search of the trail of Wilma’s and Sarah’s ab- ductors. They had no difficulty in finding where they had Janded, nor in determining the course they had taken after leaving the lake. It led away through a defile descending gradu- ally toward the Yellowstone valley and touch- ing the river near the lower extremity of the Yellowstone ce. This left no doubt in the minds of the two scouts as to the destina- tion of the abductors, and so they at once started in pursuit. ey did not keep their eyes upon the trail as they would have done formed them of the outcome of the fight, the Miehsgh had high hopes of overhauling trem efore even they had made half the distance to the river, Before they were scarcely aware of the fact,. however, so eager were they on the trail, night was upon them, and as the darkness in the pass: was almost impenetrable, they were compelled to stop and wait the coming of daylight. To Sam it was the longest night he ever ex- perienced. He did not close an eye in sleep, for the sweet face of Wilma was ever in his mind and the fate to which she was being carried filled his breast with a restless fear. With the first streaks of dawn they were up and away through the dewy shadows of the densely-wooded pass. They had gone supperless and went on without breakfast, for they had no food, nor did they like to lose time to procure it. But as the hours went by and noon approached, Old Kit, whose strength the boy was taxing *o its utmost, said: ‘“ Boy, I observate that the waste of caloric is roducin’ a sort o’a goneness in my stomach. ’m considered a good traveler, but I'll be blest: if I can hold my own with you without refresh- ments, once in a while. Bay, isn’t it "bout time to dine? I'll swear, by the horn of Joshua! that I could eat a grizzly bear.” “‘T presume we'd better be looking out for some game for food,” said Baby Sam, ‘for I’m beginning to feel a gnawing at the stomach, 7 Before they had gone a mile further a young deer came out from the shadows on the right. and stopped and Jooked at them a moment, then bounded away down the valley. But before it had gone three rods the rifle of the Boy Giant rung out, and the fawn sunk down dead, Old Kit advanced, and securing a quarter of the deer, carried it to a little spring where they halted. A fire was kindled, and in a few min- utes the aroma of broiling venison was mingled with the odor of the ae woods, making the ap- petite of the two all the keener. tains—the Ingin village. ’ . t rest, safety. I war Daudiaer into the Si-ox *‘T must look about for my friend, who fell in After having partaken of a hearty meal, a faith, but I'll be rimracked if I could stand it to | the fight,” the young mountaineer said, his voice | few slices of meat were broiled for future need, see you deestroyed in the bloom o’ youth—the mornin’ twilight 0’ manhood.” “Mr. Bandy,” said Baby Sam, in a grateful voice, ‘I thank you for your kindness in help- ing me out of my difficulty, but I must confess ‘ou're a badly mixed-up man, and still worser 2 tween your wife and the Ingins and outlaws, I’m thinkin’ you'll have to emi- Noah and the ark in all its co purity. Boy, me, te dodge; but I’m gittin’ over em now—ar’n’t full of sadness. 1 They proceeded to the. little opening wherein the lifeless form of poor Fred Sears lay, but no- where could Frank Rodman be found. They followed the trail where he had been dragged through the bushes to the water’s edge by Spar- rowhawk; but what disposition the young Crow had made of the body they could not imagine, unless he had consigned it to the waves, But why the Indian himself had mF ae was another query in their minds which they could not answer on any other grounds than that he had become cognizant of Baby Sam’s capture, and fled before he had learned the result of the singular duel. ; m and the old mountain detective hollowed out a grave with their knives and hands, and with heavy hearts, placed the body of Fred Sears therein, and carefully covered it over with dirt ani stones, Then the bodies of the savages and outlaws were consigned to the lake, and then they were ready to resume their tramp. But before they had started, Old Kit happened to glance up the acclivity on their right, when he started back, crying out in sudden alarm: ** God in Israel. hhok thar, Baby Sam!” The Boy Giant glanced in the direction indi- cated when he, too, uttered an exclamation of horror, his form became motionless and his gaze tet rae the — HP ea It 2 bay at of a huge, glossy panther dragging a hu- man body along a narrow ledge fifty feet above them, and a single glimpse of the white face of the animal’s prey told him that it was the life- less body of his sweetheart, Wilma Rodman! CHAPTER IV. IN CAMP ON THE YELLOWSTONE LAKE. On the shores of the Yellowstone Lake—un- der the sheltering branches of stately pines, three men were encamped one bright Septem- ber day. The spot selected was one that com- manded a fair view of the lake and its sur- ouc- so bad as I used to be. But now, Baby, , 7 know who and what I am, and I’m ready —. a made te depart from the ill- is z fa roundings, and revealed to eye and ear the
Page 5
Baby Sam, F ee ! ear romantic beauty and grandeur cf the place. It ; boats hev been seen skippin’ ’round over the -was at a time, too, when the autunmmal hues cf dilac and gold tinted the landscape and touched into a richer beauty the wonders of Wonder- land. * Two of the three men wero bordermen; their dress and general appearance were evidence of this fact. The eldest was a man of fifty years | lake like specters in the moonlight, and that the reports of rifles hey been heard ringin’ through the Park, but no rifleman could be found; but ae folks; by the eternal—” {is speech was here interrupted by the sound | of footsteps, and turning, the three men found —of rather small proportions, with a keen, gray | eye, a bearded face, and a prominent nose that was truly indicative of the Roman courage of Old Soerane Joe, the hunter, trapper and guide. He was dressed in a full suit of buck- skin, and carried a revolver and hunting-knife in his belt. The second man was Henry Rodman, a scttler | of the Gallatin valley, and the father of rank and Wilma, between whom and Old Spokane Joe there existed a fellowship warm and devoted | as though bound by the ties of blood—a fellow- ship and attachment at which those who knew not the secret of their bond of union often mar- veled. In general appearance Mr. Rodman was a tall, Beat settee vos man, with an intelli- | gent face and a pleasant, affable disposition, The third man was Professor Anson Drood, a special agent of the Government, sent out by the Secretary of the Interior, to make some further geological researches in the great Park. Being a former friend of Henry Rodman’s in ' flashed quick and furtive glances around. | the East, he sought out his old acquaintance in | the Gallatin, and through him secured the ser- ss, vices of Old Spokane as a guide, as well as Mr. Rodman as a companion, At the time we introduce these three men | a genera themselves face to face with a stranger who had approached unseen. The new-comer wasa man of perhaps five- and-forty years of agea little above the me- dium hight, with a cold, steel-gray eye that Tiis hair was closely cropped, but his face was cov- ered with a long, full beard that had faded in the sun to a dirty reddish color. He was dressed in tho blue shirt, gray pants, high-top- ped boots and slouched hat of a miner. He wore a heavy belt in which hung a revolver and knife. Hegave his name as Donald Strahm, and his business as a mining prospector. At the sound of his voice Old Spokane Joe started, for in it was a familarity that recalled a voice of long ago. He glanced at the miner’s face and form, and even there he saw some- thing vaguely in harmony with the voice. But | the man’s name and the man’s calling finally convinced him that he was mistaken, and that the familiar tone was simply a coincidence—one of those often occurring in the life of a person in which the sound of a voice, or the sight of an object, recalis some familiar face or scene that has lain dormant in memory’s casket for years, “ Well, Mr. Strahni,” said the professor, after j introduction, ‘‘I am glad to have met they had been in camp there since the previous | you, andhope you can report success in your day, and it was their intention to remain a day | prospecting.” or two longer, or, at least, until Baby, Sam, Frank and Wilma Rodman, Fred Sears and Sarah Marshall had joined them, as had been arranged between the two parties some two weeks previous—the time at which the explor- ing. bya had left the settlement, d Spokane had been in the Park many times before, but to Henry Rodman and Professor Drood the scene was new and far beyond their conception of romantic grandeur, Standing by the | they could see the cold, gray mountain peaks that pierced the sky reflected in the azure epths of the water. They could see scores of little islands that-seemed bursting with vegeta- tion scattered over the bosom of the placid sheet. They could see thousands of aquatic fowls cai 2 the silvery surface of the water, or winging their way along the shores. The eould see the snow-white steam from the boil- ing springs along close to the lake’s rim, rising between them and the sun, whose reflected rays arched each vapory column with a beautiful rainbow. They could faintly hear the rumble of the great geysers in the distance, and all the while these sights and sounds were enjoyed in ‘an atmosphere that seemed pees with a sweet, intoxicating Yet that conspired to make the place a land of enchantment.’ “Pll declare,” said Professor Drood for the ‘twentieth time, perhaps, ashe gazed around him, “‘this is certainly the most wonderful spot on God’s earth. Eden’s gordon could not have been more lovely, even with the serpent leftout. It’s ‘strange, indeed, that. the Indians prefer the cold, cheerless ows of the mountain defiles for their villages to this lovely va ey, where sunshine, fish and game are so abundant.” “It’s superstition, perfessor,” answered Old Spokane Joe, the guide, “that keeps the red varlets from defilin’ this valley with their dirty wigwams and lousy dogs and _pappooses, though huntin’-parties often come in and hunt for ays, Them Db’ilin’ springs and‘ roarin’, pantin’ geysers, their traditions say, are the es- cape-holes o’ the wrath o’ the Evil Spirit, and so they have no desire to live within the sound ©’ his Satanic Majesty's voice.” “It’s a good thing for the Park they think so,” thought the geologist; ‘‘ but I do wish we had a canoe here. I should like to visit yonder little islands that seem bursting, like cotton-pods with the fullness of their vegetation. But I say, Henry, take this glass, examine that little island away off yonder, and tell me what you see. _ Mr. Rodman took the glass, and after care- iusv scanning the island for several minutes, he e: claimed: “ By St. Peter! Anson, I see what appears to ee oor o*.a cabin among the bushes on that sland. ‘ “That vas exactly what 1 saw,” declared Drood. -> ‘It mig be,” observed Old Spokane, ord he, too, tovk the glass; “ye see 1 fav'n't been in this Park for Se co come next June; how- suuever, I’ve heard t t myster’ous little sail- “I regret tosay that I can make no such re- port, professor,” Strahm replied, with an air of disappointment and disgust. ‘This Wonder- land is a most gigantic fraud. All’s not gold that glitters here, by any means. Nature expended so lavishly on her majestic moun- tains, yawning canyons, grand waterfalls, stu- pendous geysers, and wonderful scenery, that she had to embellish with the cheapest of jew- elry. There isn’t an ounce of gold or silver in all this boasted Park, but when it comes to sulphur-beds, voleanic glass, cheap petrifica- tions, rainbows, hot mud and boiling water, itll take the rag off the bush the wide world over. You see, gentlemen, there’s no romance in my composition, consequently I can’t live on warm water and rainbows, and I am now fully prepared to denounce the Yellowstone Park as a@ more gigantic fraud than the Garden of Eden ever was.’ Although the three men did not share the miner's opinion of the Park, they could not help laughing at his indignation and disgust. “You are not here in the Park alone, are 4s Mr. Strahm?’ Professor Drood finally asked, ‘No, sir,” he replied; “I left a friend in the mountains about ten miles from here, and he’s absolutely sick at heart, head and stomach of this Fraudland. I think this will be our last day here, for you see we’re not here for health, but wealth, “But, gentlemen, as it is gettin late, I will have to leave you, with my bes wishes.” “Can't you remain overnight with us, Mr. Strahbm?” Henry Rodman asked. “No, thank “you, I promised my friend I’d be back, and I’m afraid he’ll commit suicide if I don’t keep my word. He’s a badly broke-up miner, and’s been threatening to spoil a geyser by throwing himself into the crater. Again wishing you a pleasant sojourn in Fraudland, gentlemen, I bid you good-evening!” With this, Donald Strabm took his éeparture, and Henry Rodman noticed that Old Spokane Joe watched his retreating figure with knitted brows and x (a hp lips, like one absorbed in deep mental reflection. ‘“* What do you think of him, anyhow, Spoky?” the settler finally queried. “Oh!” exclaimed the guide, with a sudden start, ‘‘I reckon he’s all right; but he’s terrible sick o’ this kentry,” : ‘He pretended to be,” said Professor Drood, ‘but he acted to me a good deal like a fellow telling a lie, and as I claim to be a judge of bu- man naturo, I think you'll find I’m not far from correct. Ten to one he has struck it rich, and is uneasy for fear we may, in some way, run in on him.” “ Say, folks,” suddenly called out Old Spo- kane, as he glanced out over the lake, “‘ whar’s that island with the hut on’t gone? Til sw’ar I don’t see it, and I war jist goin’ to remark when Strahm come up that the island war movin.” : ; To the surprise end astonishment of Drood Giant of the Yellowstone. you who I oF war be ss and Rodman th seen it, nor could it be seen anywhere upon the lake. ‘““By heavens!” exclaimed Mr. Rodman, ‘that's queer. Idon’t understand it, professor. Surely, floating islands can’t form a part and parcel of the wonders of Wonderland?” ‘Tt really looks as though they did, Tlenry,” responded Drood. ‘‘May a grizzly hug me, if I ever heard o’ sich a thing before!” declared Old Spokane. ** Reckon it couldn’t ’a’ been a phantom island, eh, men?” and the old hunter broke into a low chuckle that was not enirely the spirit of mirth. ‘* It’s something that must be inquired into,” decided the protessor. ‘‘Ah! look off there, men, and you'll see our floating island, sure enough, moving with the eit toward the western shore.” True enough; with the aid of the glass, they saw the little island floating out from among @ cluster of fixed islands, and moving slowly west« ward, They could see the comb of the cabin upon it, and as they stood regarding it 1m siient amazement, Old Spokane remarked: ““Men, I’m goin’ to make a reconncissanee *round that way and look into that thing. Mr. Rodman, I’d like to speak with you a moment, before I go, please. Professor, excuse us.” “Certainly,” replied Drood, as he continue¢ watching the floating island. Rodman followed Old Spokane out into the bushes. The latter seemed a little restless and uneasy. “Henry,” he said, in a low tone, ‘‘ I’m a little troubled.” ** What about, Joe?” * That man Strahm.” “In what respect?” ‘*T solemnly believe he is Norton Fenwick.” “What?” and it was Rodman’s turn now to betray uneasiness; ‘‘not the man who left the child in your care?” ‘*The very same. I thought I recognized his voice the moment he spoke, although it’s been nigh onto fourteen years since I see’d him— since ke came to our cabin and gave into my and my wife’s care that little lump o’ humanity that has since made owe life so bright, Mr. Rodman, My Lord, Henry! if it isso, we can’t give up our idol now, can we?” ‘*No, no, A nent never; but if that was Fenwick, I feel sure he did not recognize — If he did, however, and played ignorance, p vad has got a clew and is following you up. You ow was lying. But that floating island may throw some further light on the matter,” “That's what I thought,” returned Spokane; “so, if you’ll look after our hosses if I don't git back afore dark, I'll be off,” “ All richt, Spokane, all right.” The cld guide moved rapidly away, and Rod+ man went out to see about their horses, for evening was fast approaching. Keeping well under cover of the ¢cnse timber james hurried along the lake, He proceed nearly three miles when he concluded. e must be nearing the vicinity of the island, tm so turned and moved cautiously toward ther ake. He had gone but a few paces, however, when a voice hailed him from behind, and quickly he found himself face to face with the miner, Donald Strahm, who appeared from @ ine cluster of bushes in which the quick eye of the ~ old hunter caught sight of several men, most of whom were Indian warriors | CHAPTER V. . THE MYSTERIOUS BENRAYMOND, ADVANCING toward Spokane Joe, Donald! Strahm extended his hand, saying: “Ah! we meet again! Good-evening, Jack Prunty.” Spokane started at the mention of that name, but ova recovering his presence of mind, re- spon : ** ‘Why d’ye call me that, ee _ “Don’t you know me, Jack?” Strahm asked, in apparent surprise. ‘“* No,” replied the hunter, though he evaded the truth, fully satisfied now, by the man’s looks and the presence of bis concealed eran uns oe aay ad confronted him with mischief in his eart, “Then,” said the pretended miner, ‘‘ I will tell of the babe I intrusted to your and your wife's care years ago when you resided on the Platte im saw that the island had really disappeared from where they had first e professor said he believed the fellow » I am Norton Fenwick, the father . vs
Page 6
Nebraska, Do you mow men Spokane. and but, . his rifle, the old. man swung it’ about ¢ nike ass w?; Canyou tell mewhy you: ran away with my child, and as- ‘sume the name you now bear?” “ Your child? You did not telus it was your child} when you gave ii: into, c~ care!” replied the hunter;.in a firmy decided wis '. “T tell yousonow, and ist tstenough? You proved recreant to your trust, dack Prunty— you and your wife—” “Have a care!” exclaimed Old: Spokane, fierecly, asthe dropped his rifle! into the hollow of his Jeft arm; ‘“‘my wile is dead, sir, and: no man shall speak evil,o’ her arid live long.” “ And my child—is,she dead, too?” demanded Strahni. ** For all I know.” “T don’t believe you.” He could afford to talk so, with half, a dozen friends close at hand. ‘Then seek your information elsewhur,” re- torted Spokane. *“T have been seeking it elsewhere, for, two ears, at great costand privations,; Jack Prunty. | learned that you had not been murdered by the savages—that you'd escaped with my child, and I have been hunting you. Here I find you un- der an assumed name; bub where’s my child that you agreed to keep fer me,'and to deliver up whenever I called and paid her keeping? Now, Jack Prunty, I am no miner—” “Never believed you war,” interrupted Old ‘“And Iam here,” the man went on, without heeding the interruption, ‘‘ after my child.” “Well, you'll have to goiaty°y without her.” “Do you knew. where sheis?” “Tf T did I wouldn’t tell you.” “Why not?” “Because I never believed she war. your child, I always did think, and.do yit; that she war the victini o’ somebody’s cussediness,” “What's that to you so you get your pay?” “Thave, human, feelin? and, den’t keer a cuss for-ell. the wealth in tre Jand.” ** But) whatof your honor? You madea fair agreement with me.” “* That's nun out by ‘stetute\o’ limitation, Ten years. in. Nebrasiza’ outlaws, all verbal agree- raents—written cnes,, too.” “Jack Prunty, | stop your trifling! Strahm cried, in sudden nage; ‘you shail not: rob: me of my ¢ id with impunity!” ‘Ah! you threaten me, then?” “T will have my child, or your life-blood, I will put youron the rack and torture the secret out_af, you!? : “Don’t, fongit,”? ‘and Oki. Spokane’s, eyes flashed’ with a five, of resentment and indigna- tiony. ‘*that you’re| treadin’. on dangerous ground.); Pm no coward to beskeered by- you and your ambushed minions there din: the brushd? itd, rest **Then you still refuse to tell me where my child is?” *Pdey” Strahm, turned and uttened.adow whistle. In auswer thereto, nearly half -scere of Indians and white men emerged from the thicket. Old:Spokane saw that he had got to fight for his life, and that, too, against fearful odds, but he was, not the man to flinch,, Instantly: he passed a.mental, resolution to die rather than yield'tho secret the villain sought, and thereby add to the life of one he loved—yes, worshiped with. all the devotion of the buman heart— misery and suffering, By this time the sun had: sunk: behind the main range of the mountains, and shadows wereigatbering. Back\of the old hunter was.a _ dense border of undergrowth »running along the lake shore, In this he: might have dodged the foe, and, aided by the gathering twi- light, have escaped unharmed, but his man- ‘hood, honor, and the happiness, of ethers seemed ‘to depend upon his facing his enemy there, and had the ruffians numbered a seoré he would as ToT have, maintained his convictions of rig, tand duty by facing them all unto death. “You see,” said, Strahm, as his band came ont and aligned themselves before the hunter, “that I am. not alone, so you'd better surrender gracefully. “Back, scoundrels!” yelled Old Spokane, sc tts deadly light gleaming! in his eyes; a whip ef iron, knocking the,' and bef i ater eee ee ee eS eS ae ae ae See +a aoa foremost of the foe heels over head and clearing a ce around him.” Take him alive! take him alive!” shouted Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, TI hunter had risen to a sitting posture and was azing around him in bewilderment. “ How is this, anyhow?’ the old fellow mut- Strahm, who kept at a safe distance in the rear. | tered, passing his hands over his eyes. This, however, would have: been a difficult, if | not a doubtful’ undertaking, but for the fact | that one of the renegades who had been knocked | down crawied up on. ali-fours behind the brave old man, and seizing him around the legs, threw him heavily to the earth, at the same time deal- ing him a stunning blow on the forehead with a heavy revolver. Bat the renegade’s victory was short-lived, for scarcely had he struck the old man ero. a long, glittering blade of steel was thrust from the bushes, hard by, and driven into | the breast of the outlaw! Then. forth from the cover of the thicket leaped the figure of a man, with a sword in his hand, and confronted the band of infuriated ruflians, his eyesblazing withan unearthly light, | and his features wrought into.a terrible expres- sion.’ He was a. men of perhaps forty years, tall, and: athletic, with dark-blue eyes, a noble face covered) with a full browm beard reaching to his chest. iis: head: was bare and his hair | that “Tt is all réght now, stranger,” assured his rescuer, end at sound of bis voice he glanced quickly around as though aroused from a dream. “ Ah! I see! It’s you, stranger—things have been.a leetle mixed with me. Ke you the grim boatman rowin’ me over the Dark River? or be you the man that come to help me out in my tight?” “Ym that man, sir, and you’re safe in my boat and care.” “Bully! bully!” exclaimed the hunter; ‘tI am right now--got my bearin’s. I remember got a whack cn the head that kind 0” knocked me endwise. But sey, stranger! Did you wallop that. outfit o’ red and white devils?” “*T did; and routed them, horse and feot.” “* Kill eny of em?” “Yes, I had to, but the ene I ought to have slain got away.” ‘*W\ ho war that—Norton Fenwick?’ was: thrown: back from a high and intellectual brow, across which transversely ran a bright | redscar. Lie was dressed:in a blue fiannel shirt, the colar of which lay open revealing a.deep, | hairy chest, a pair of dark-colored pants end handsomely wrought Indian. moceasiis. Ho was, armed with but a single weapon—a long, slender sword, but there was something in his presence—his flaming eyes, his stern, set fea- ' tures, that caused the savages and renegades to recoil slightly before him. ; As the\stranger sprung from the thicket and turned facing the mob, hé shouted:im stentorian | notes: ‘“‘ Back, devils! back!” | An: exclamation, of surprise kurst from | Strehm?’s lips. The savages and renogales. rallied, and pre= | pared to renew the conflict: with their new foe. | Old Spokane was. rising’ to his feet when. the | haft. of a flying tomahawk again brought him ; to the earth unconscious, Another was aimed at the head of ‘the mysterious stranger, but: the latter threw up his sword and received tho weapon so that it) glanced harmlessly into the | air., Then as flashes the lightning among the | storm-clouds, so flashed the:saber of theunknown about his head and in the faces of the foe. The head of a savage advancing toward ‘him ap- cared to leap from the shoulders and drop: to he-earth, while the body, obeying the impul-o | of the will, continued to advance a step cr two; before it fell; a horrible; headless: thing—tho blood spurting im jets from the severed arteries of the neck.. Not:a savage cared to’ advance’ within the | teach of that scintillating blade, for their toma- hawks had been parried with dexterous skill untilionly their knives and firearms were kept | in hand! , Donald Strahm, who fram tho first had kept in the rear; saw that his friends wcre wavering beforelthe deadly steel of the one swordsman, He saw that something must be done and that speedily, or all would be lost, and drawing his revolver he essayed to shoot the stranger. But the latter was on the alert, and seeing the move- ment of the man, he lunged forward far enougis to catch the revolver‘on the point of his sword, and. by. some dexterous twirl of the blade snatched the weapon outof Strahm’s hand and sent it spinning out of reach into the brush! With a muttered curse Strahm backed into the bushes, turned and fled, followed by his sur- viving friends. The mysterious swordsman glanced around him, passed his hand over Itis‘brow and then, as something of the past seemed to flash: through his brain, he turned like a wild beast: and with glaring eyes and set teeth fairly hissed: ‘“God in Heaven! thatman was Norton Fen- wick! Fool that I was not to recognize him sooner, and slay him like a dog! Curses upon him! will I never get rd of his accursed pres- ence? Will the vengeance of Heaven'ever—” His mad soliloquy was here cut short by a l ’ groan from the lips of Old Spokane, ‘end ‘ad- | they covld scale the vertical hi vaneing he hent over the hunter, lifted him in | : ; his arms as though he had been a child, and car- | on earth did that critter ever git up thar ried him down to the: water’s edge where a lit- tle canoe lay upon the beach. Placing the wounded man in the craft he pushed it into. the | water; then sprung in himself, took up the Boas | die and drove the boat out into the lake, ith | long and vigorous strokes he sent it fairly leap-'! ing through thé water in the direction of a little’ not far from here. island) © ° : I ree Gee Spokane recovered his sen ore his rescuer was aware of it the oO] senate i ‘TAh! then you know that man?” ‘“T should proclamate I did, stranger; but maybe you and T know each other; ny name’s Spekane Joe—what’s yours, stranger (” The man glanced at the old bunter as if seerch- ing the inmost recesses of his heart: then, as if fully satisfied of bis honesty by the free ; and cpemexpression of his bcarded face, be re- lied: a My rame, Spokane, is Aaron Berraymend.” *¢ Aaron retin one repeated the hunter, thoughtfully; “TI guess you and me never met before: but I should say you war made & good material,'and that you slashed that blade round in a fearful nasty way. I'd like to ’a’ see’d it all, but— But say, Mr. Benraymond, wher be you takin’ me to?” “‘ Here—to this island,” replied Penraymend, as the canoe cametoa stand among scime droop- -ing willows at the edge of a little island. “Wal, I’) sw’ar, stranger, I hadn’t ought to ' stop here, for I left a couple © friends over on the lake.” ‘“ Wait a few mirutes—until it is fairly Cark, and VN take you ashore,” announced Benray- mond, rising and stepping from the cance conto the island, Old Spokane could not object to this offer of | his gallant friend; so he, tco, rese and leaped cut of the. boat, and as he did’ se he felt the whole island tremble under him, the startling truth flashed across his mind—he was aboard the mysterious floating island that he and his friends had'diseovered trom camp! » CHAPTER VI: A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE, ‘On ‘Lord! ‘Oh 'Lora™ groaned Old Kit Bandy as he stood’ as if rooted to the earth, his eyes fixed upon the panther that was drag- ‘ging tHe bedy ef Wilma Redman along the nai rew ledge, * the poor gal’s dead, dead, Baby Sam! ‘Buty Kit, Her coe shall not be mutilated by that beast!” said Baby Sam, bis face pale, and his voice bel-cheked with the grief surg- ing up in his Breast, Then he threw a cartridge into his rifle, and raised it to his shoulder. ‘* Be keerful, boy !” ‘cried Old Kit; ‘‘'ye'r’ nar- vous—the gal may enly be ina swoen and y-u might hither. Steady, boy, sfeady!” ut there was no need of these words of cau- tion, for the Eoy Giant was calm, cool and de- Tiberate, and planetne along the barrel of his ‘gun he took e'careful aim and pressed the trig- er. e Simultaueous with the crack of the weapon the panther dropped its prey, uttered a low, fierce how! of pain, lashed the rocks: with its tail, then rolled lifeless from the ledgeand fell witha thud - on the rocks below, The death of the panther, however, did not at all release the body of Wilma Rodman from peril, for it was now left partly hanging over the ledge, fifty feet above a bed of jagged rocks, while the rescuers could find oa place where ‘Horn o Joshua!” excla with the gal?” ed “Kit replied the young mount’? yotnety us run back along the chff in th” whence the panther came and ms; ‘find an‘ascent.. ‘That beast surely rec‘ ledge from this valley, and if so, it So they turned of the cliff; but to their bitter di intn. they were compelle Sy ee £ % aha _ Oe Se Swe ee Ta an instant - Old Kit, “how i of ~ afb life- @ Lake—un- Z r sely, pines, and ran back along the” scom- led to travel along distanga™"; \ ) ys
Page 7
4 sv dence of the one that made the trail before mney hights. hen they did, however, Baby Sam flew up the acclivity, and then, at a speed that taxed Old Kit to even keep insight, he glided back along the ledge. , Before he was aware of it the young guide was out of sight of the old man, buta slash of blood on the ledge before him brought him to a stand. He waited till Bandy came up, then pointed to the blood, saying: o ‘* Kit, look there! we will find Wilma dead,” and the youth’s whole frame now shook with emotion. : ; ‘* Boy,” assured Old Kit, looking around him, ‘‘ this is the very spot whar ye shot the panther —where it bled!” ae “No, no, that cannot ve, Kit, or where’s Wilma’s body?” “T fear, lad, it’s— ; “Fallen over the ledge?’ exclaimed the dis- tracted boy. Kit made no reply, but advancing to the edge of the cliff, shaded his eyes with his hand and glanced steadily below for several moments. “‘ By the horn o’ Joshua!” he suddenly ejacu- lated, turning to Baby Sam; ‘‘I see the carcass 0’ the painter, boy, but tho gai’s body is not there!” > “You don’t. tell me, Kit?” and a ray of hope kindled in Baby Sam’s eyes; ‘‘ then she must be alive, and has been spirited away by—” ‘¢ Or else sue’s got up and deliberately walked away,” put in the old man. ‘‘T fear such a thing’s too good to be true, Irit,” said Sam, ‘‘ but let us hurry on, for if she went away of her own accord, I know, she is badly wounded and may yet fall from this ledge and be killed.” ‘Hal look thar, Baby! that tells the tale,” said the eld man, pointing down to the imprint of a moceasined foot in the thin layer of dust that had sifted {rom.the rocks above; ** tho poor gal’s in the clutches o’ the red-sl:ins again; and that tells me she’s alive, for a red-skin wouldn't spend much strength in totin’ off a dead gal. But let’s hurry on, and maybe we can over- haul them afore they escape into the deep woods,” : Frit,” observed Baby Sam, as they hurried along the ledge, ‘‘I see you’re a regular border- man—an old Ingin trailer.” “Yes, boy, if thar’s a, gal in tho casé,” rc- plied Kit, with a smile, ‘Pm hard to‘beat. I allers war a pesky fool bout pretty gals, Sa:n- nel; and ifs queer, too. You'd naterally think ihat.a,man that'd lived with Ellen Sabina Bandy—ithat. carried a scar for every day.cf seventeen years’ married. life—would be soured on the hull. female fraternity; but it ar’n’t so. Old as I be, I'll bet a patch o’ blue sky that some sweet littl: baby-faced gal o’ about. sixteen could jist lapmo round her little finger like a ribbon; that’s the kind o’.a tormented ole fool T be, I’ve sworn a billion times I’d never look on -womankind ag’in only with “crucityin’ daggers in my eyes, but here LT am ready to die for that ' little gal Wilma, and that’s some more 0’ the _ kind o’ an ole fool I be!” ae Baby Sam was .in no mood for jesting, yet ho could not repress a smile at the whimsical humor and grievances of the eccentric old man. The ledge they were following finally termi- nated in a broad descent, running gradually down into the deep wooded valley, and tho trail, which was that of a singlo Pitan: was easily followed,down the slope and through the woods, , On.reaching the valley it trended away toward the Yellowstone Lake, and as that sheet was not over a mile or two away the pursuers felt exceedingly hopeful of, overtaking the red- skin before he reached it, for, as no. footprints but his own could be seen, it was quite evident that, if he had the maiden at all, he was carry- ing her, and thus incumbered could not long keep up the speed with which he had evidently snared . ee e But they were entirely mistaken in the speed and endurance of the Indian yr were follow- ing, for, ere they were scarcely aware of the tack, they stood upon. the shore of the Yellow- stone Lake, at the very edge of whose waters the trail ended. But glancing out Over the wa- te, Old Kit exclaimed: iw *. ‘There they go, boy !—off yander!”’ x "/aesenoug _“ By St.» oyer the. lake nearly a quarter of a mile be theroof co: hat one of the occupants—he who island.” : paddle—-was, an Indian, there was no * That tye the other one appeared to be reclin- ‘a 3 boat, and Kit and Sam could not ” Drood ** Tt mre sure it was Wilma, but from the fact that, too, tego trail running from the ledge had ended this “here at the lake, and there bein lata Et aving em- ee et ee OE er Wiguine i,’ - iy ies { ae p> ‘ : f : , a canoe with two occupants was, plain evi-_ | | ee ee ee ee miadibronersemeenrecmpram.>-aaeeah, EERO - Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone found a break in the perpendicular barked in a canoe from that point, there was | long night were they compelled to lie in those — little doubt left in their minds but she was in the craft. Ls ‘*By the horn o’ Joshua! we're at the end o’ our string, Baby Samuel,” Old Kit averred, somewhat disheartened, ** Why so, Kit?” “We've no boat to foller that red devil; we can’t walk the water, and night’s comin’ on. Isn’t that enough to break a man’s heart? Can you see any hope for us?—any sunshine?” ‘*We must not forgit, Kit,” suggested Baby Sam, ‘‘that. there were two of the captive maidens, and if Wilma’s in yonder boat, Sarah Marshall is still back somewhere in the wooded valleys.” ‘Ay, lad, your head’s level; and we should look for her while there is a chance.” ‘-'Yes, at once!” and Sam led the way back into the valley and began a careful search for the trail of Sarah’s captors, But darkness finally coming on put an end to their search for that day, and with a feeling of despondency they began to look about for a place to stop for the night. While thus en- gaged, they suddenly discovered the faint glow of a light some thirty rods away, which they concluded must be that of a camp-fire. Whether of friend or foe they could not determine from where they were, and so they moved cautiously toward it, making a detour to the right so as to avoid the opening botween them and the light. It required but a few minutes toreach a point from whence they could command a\full view of the fire and all within its radius‘of light. As they had suspected, they found it to bo an Indian camp, and to their joyful surprise they discovered Sarah Marshall share, though she was bound hand and foot, and fastened to a tree, against which she was reclining. To their bitter disappointment, however, they soon dis- covered that there were cight or ten savages in- stead of the two who had started with the captives from Wilma’s Island; and the only consolation they’ could get out of their dis- covery was that neither Scott Dresden, the out- law, nor any of those with him at the island at the time of the duel, wes with the party. The Boy Giant and Old Kit hold a whispered consultation. . What 40 do they could scarcely decide upon in the face of such great cdds, but finally the ingenious Old Bandy said: “lve a suggestion to make, Baby; them In- #‘ns are all Si-oxes, and not one cf them war on tho island at the timo of our duel. The two that took tho gals away from the island are both there, and I think they've accidentally met the others and camped together. Now, I’ve a notion te take the bull by the horns, sail right into that camp and make myself to home till a chance is offered to liberate that gal.” “Tt may cost you your Ife, Kit, if those In- “ins have heard cf your conduct at Wilma’s island.” “AN right, boy; Tl be dyin’ in a gal-orious cause; so let’s retire away and arrange the pree- liminaries.” Rising, the two moved back into the deeper shadows, and when their plans had been Jaid for the rescue of Sarah, Old Kit announced: ‘Now, Baby Sam, I'm goin’ to buck the tiger in his den, and if 1 should go under, and you should ever meet hereafter a fellow named Tcha- bod Flea, tell him his old pard Kit Bandy, Moun- tain Detective, died with full harness on,” With this request the old wood-tramp turned and moved silently away through the darkness, leaving the Boy Giant absorbed in deep and pain- ful thoughts. CHAPTER VIT. SABINA BANDY, Arrer their ee tia and capture on Wilma Island, Sarah and Wilma were hurriedly taken to the mainland and moved away at a rapid speed by two large and fierce-looking savages. When a mile or two from the lake the girls heard the zope of guns behind them and the sound of a conflict. ‘They knew what it meant, yet they knew not the fate of their friends. Not a moment’s rest was allowed them during the day, but as soon as it grew dark the Indians halted for the night, having first sought the im- penetrable labyrinth of a dense thicket, To revent their escape, and yet permit the cap- ives to rest, each one was closely wrapped m the folds of a large blanket which was securely fastened with cords, evidently brought along for, the purpose, wound around and around her’ from head to foot, thereby making it impossible to move hand or foot, and even making it diffi- cult to breathe.’ And there, through all that 4st se ere en ar — - oe strait-jackets, suffering untold agonies of body and mind. Bright and early the next morning ‘Ley were released of their bonds, given some dried venison. and hard bread. for breakiast, then the tramp was resumed. But the captives’ strength began to fail fast, and before noon it was all they could do to move one foot after another, and finally they sunk down with sheer exhausticn. They were then lifted in the brawny arms of their captors and carried from tke valley up a steep hillside, around which they proceeded until they came to a ledge or terrace continuing cn arcund the hill. Here they stopped, evitientty with the intention of resting thar captives; ard to make sure that they did not get away or escepe cap- tivity by leaping cver the hights, they were again rolled and wrayped in Llankets as on the previous night. Half-dead, the pocr girls leaned their heads against the rock at their back end wept in silence, while the Indians. assured of their security, walked away as the niaicens supposed to procure game for food. Thus several mcments had passed, when a slight, unnatural sound arrested the attention of the girls and they raised their tearful eyes and looked around them. ‘To their horror they beheld a huge panther crcuching near, his eyes fixed upon them and bis tail lashing the rock, as if in the very act cf springing upon them. A cry burst from fereh’s lips and she surk down in a swoon. When she recovered her senses she saw thé two SY Rere standing cver her, but Wilma was genc! She told the red- skins what had happened, when one of them started in search cf the missing girl, Lut the report of a rifle around the ridge scared him back, and taking Sarah they hurried away, manifesting no little alarm. They traveled on until nearly nightfall, when they were met by a party cf half a dozen Sicux warriors coming into the valley frcm the direc- tion of the Indian village. AI went into camp where they met, a fire was lighted, and a con- sultation held. From the fierce looks, the fran- tic gestures, and vehement speeches of each and all, it was evident to the captive maiden that they were greatly excited. The consultaticn finally ended in two of the red-skins leaving camp, but for what purpose Sarah ‘could not conjecture. .. Being supplied with abundance of frésh deer- meat, some of it was kroiled and given the captive who ate it With good relish. But while the food gave strength to her body her mind was sorely troubled, The unknown fate of her friends at the island and cf Wilma almost dis- tracted her, ' As the minutes wore away, and the shadows of night deepened around them, the savages bound her to a tree so that she could either sit or lie down at pleasure. A blanket was thrown around her shoulders to protect her from tho chill air and another was arranged fcr her as a bed. But, she had no desire for sleep—her fears and suffering forbade it; she sat like one half-unconscious, taking but little notice of what. was going on around, when suddenly, she, as well as the savages, was startled by a straneR sound like the bleating cf # moun ain- goat, ? Instantly the red-skins were all upen their feet, not with the excitement of fear but delight, crying out: Big Horn! Big Horn! white Sioux!” Then out of tha shadows of night into the —— light emerged the author of this sudden excite- ment. He was a tall, engular-built fellow, dressed and painted as an Indian, but his features, as well as the white rings around his eyes and mouth, where the aint had worn off, told that he was a white manin disguise. Tho Indians hailed him with shouts and other de- monstrations of joy to which the ungainly and comical-looking renegade replied; ““Yoop-pee! Good-evening, my red brothers! Big Horn is rejoiced to meet you here. He is tired, but happy asa coyote on the trail ofa wounded deer. He has fit hard and tray att But I see my bears hev but one of the — ore r . \ ier | prety white squaws , where is the other 4 “Don’t know, sure,” replied the Indi dressed as Mahla, speaking in his own lang “let Big Horn question the white squaw f cannot talk Sioux.” pee “*T'll do so,” replied Big Horn, and with ; lofty step and lordly mien that were both Ju crous and comical, he strode over to where Sarah pat, and squatting down before her, said: ‘Wal, little “un, this isn" so nice as it mig be tsitt! — + ; oe Stak ie apes : nap yt ta pier ce oF : ee | Te rat + eel Lege
Page 8
— as a _. When he first approached her Sarah had turned her face, not deigning to notice him, but there was something so peculiar and sympathetic in the man’s voice that she could not he Ree s she " La ‘ ~, te ing and looking him square in the face. _ didso the expression of contempt on her face _ wanishec, and a faint ray of hope seemed to kindle in her eyes, a» she replied: “Yes, sir, this is dreadful.” “Yes, indeedy!” Big Horn affirmed, ‘but be of good heart—these Ingins can’t understand much English.” These last words left no doubt in the girls mind but that tho renegade’s language was fraught with a double meaning, and she could but wake courage from it, notwithstanding the presence of the leering, savage faces gathered aropnd her. “Can you tell me, miss,” the renegade went on, “‘ whar your friend is that war captured with you on the island?” **T cannot,” Sarah replied, but she briefly narrated all that she knew of Wilma’s Gisap- arance. “Wal, gal, you boo’ good cheer; thar’s heap wusser things than bein’ an Ingin princess and Jordin’ it over the heads and hearts o’ a pack oO — The renegado’s words were hero cut short by a sudden, sharp, shrill cry behind him, The say- ages started with an exclamation of surprise, and they turned and beheld a strange intruder be- fore them. It wasa woman—a white woman, too, who, without fear or warning, had boldly entered their presence. She was a woman past mid-life, rather tall and slender, with a thin @val face, a prominent nose, and sharp gray eye. é was dressed in a coarse brown frock, a flaring sun-bonnet, and coarse cow-hide shoes. On ber left arm she carried a small, time-worn retienle, and in her right hand an old faded um- brella. Scarcely deigning to notice the red-skins this woman, with her bonnet thrown back and her eyes fixed upon the renegade with a triumphant light flashing from their depths, made her wa toward him, fairly screaming in a sharp, fal- setto voice: ** A% last! at last, oh, pleaso the Merciful Master!” “Oh, Lord!” groaned tho renegade, ‘ ’tis she —my wife, Sabina Bandy!” *Yes, vile wretch!” hissed. the woman, and she dealt Old Kita whack over the head with her umbrella, that rattled like an avalanche of ary bones, ‘tis she, your wronged and deserted wife; your helpmcct—she whom you wooed and won in her girlish innocence only to desart— fling aside like cn old shoe—crucify, when the ess and bloom and sweetness of maiden- hood had faded from her form and face. Oh, teful monster!” and she again gave vent to:her feelings in another rattling blow with the umbrella, over the renegade’s head. The Indians seemed to understand the situa- tion and to enjoy the scene of domestic infelicity with infinite delight, and so made no attempt to arrest the woman or check her fury. “Woman—Sabina, have mercy!” pleaded Old Kit Bandy, for ho was the renegade. “Til have mercy!” retorted the wronged wife, * voniron-hearted monster—y6u soulless wretch ! Cil'show you how to desarta true and loving mate and flee unto the mountains and. tribes of the wilderness, you vagabone! And ch, to think!” and she broke into a sob, “TI find ou here—monster of fifty years—billin’ an’ coo- n’—makin’ love to a baby-faced girl of sixteen! Dil ever a wronged wife behold such heaven- | high, world-wide unfaithfulness?’”’ ! “Sabina, hear me,” said Old Kit, pleacingly; “TY can prove by this gal herself that I said nothin’ *fectionate—nothin’ in any way that'd | conflict with my marriage vow to love, cherish and pro-—” ' “Oh, hush your palaver, Kit Bandy! I’ve heard that same old, old strain billions of times before! {would not believe you again—never ! You'rea multitudinous liar, a monumental rob- ber of woman’s affection—a murderer of wo- man's happiness, a Judas Iscariotic betrayer of woman’s love. Ingins ’—and she turned to the leering, savages, “‘noble red-men of the forest, this man is my lawfully wedded husband—my backmy brave. He left wigwam without mea; the fire by which we’d often smoked the of peace-and chatted, went out, and cold and of thesgallavantin’ scalawag. For man have i searched for | and now that. my. are-ended with re y1 feel“ happy, rejoiced,’ suns Ske addesod the Indians, -much‘to their ‘sur- and lonesome I went ge 2 ota 9 a (bors: to have at once won their friendship and savage confidence, : After submitting meekly to his wife’s tirade for. several minutes, Kit Bandy arose and walked to the fire, and squatting down before it, plucked a brand from the blaze, then tossed it back again inakind of mental abstraction. This ho had repeated the second time, when, all of a sudden, a yell that seemed to come from brazen lungs burst from the gloom of the woods, and the next instant Baby Sam, the Boy Giant, with a huge club in his hand, dashed into the camp! Before the red-skins could comprehend the situation tho young mountaineer was upon them, dealing terrific blows right and left; and amid the crunching blows of the boy’s club, the yells and howls of the savages, the ‘‘ ping!” ping!” of a tiny revolver in the hand of Sa- bina Bandy rung out as the old woman danced about the camp, apparently wild with excite- ment. ‘To still add to the confusion of the mo- ment, all was suddenly plunged in darkness by Old Kit Bandy scattering the fire with his feot in every direction, This act was followed by yells of savage dis- may, shouts from the lips of Old Bandy and shrieks from Sabina and Sarah. But this lasted for only a moment—in fact tne entire conflict lasted only a few brief seconds—then all be- came quiet, save the sound of hurrying foot- steps and the deep groans of the wounded Sioux. A. red-skin, hastily raked a few red coals to- gether and fanned them into a blaze, and its light revealed to them a startling sight. Half of their number lay prostrate on the earth, while none had- escaped without more or less injury. The Boy Giant, Kit Bandy and bis es- timable spouse, and the captive, Sarah, were all gone! An examination of the dead warriors showed them some had fallen under the boy’s club others had been shot with a tiny bullet, and one or two killed by knife-thrusts, It quite readily occurred to the savages that the Boy Giant had not wielded all these wea- on and then it flashed through their savage rains with the force of lightning that the renegade, Big Horn, and his wife, had dealt deadly blows against them in the conflict! CHAPTER VIII. OLD SPOKANE’S RETURN TO CAMP, OLD SPOKANE JOE was not a little surprised when he discovered that he was on the myste- rious floating island, but he experienced no fear or uneasiness when he realized that its occupant was Benraymond, the man who had rescued him from danger. He said nothing, however, of his discovery ,andadvancing with his friend through the border of dense willows that fringed the island, he was conducted into a little tent that was pitched a few feet from a low, thatch-roofed cabin, There was nothing in the tent but a couch, and upon this the old hunter was re- quested to seat himself, Then Benraymond pro- ceeded to dress the wound upon his—the hunter’s —head, and when he had completed this second act of kindness to him, Spokane said: “Youre a good Samaritan, stranger, I swan you be, as well as a hull regiment in a fight. Again am I indebted to you for helping me ** Not at all, Spokane, Fa at all,” replied Ben- raymond, seating himself before his guest; ‘* but I would like to ask you a question or two,” ‘* Drive ahead, stranger.” ‘Do you know that man, Norton Fenwick?” “*T see’d him once before; he’s Donald Strahm, ” ‘© When did you see him before, Spokane?” ‘* Some years ago.” , ‘You and he seem to be enemies, I over- heard some of the words that passed between you, 7 ‘* We never war enemies till to-day, He tried to crowd me and I wouldn’t be crowded.” ‘* He’s a villain, Spokane.” ‘*Then you know him well, stranger?” “Yes, but it was thousands of miles from here.” | “Whew! then you must be a foreigner! Dutch? Irish? or English?” ‘ A smile passed over Benraymond’s bearded face. **T am an Englishman,” he replied. “Come of ‘good blood—away up’mong the nabob regions, eh?” FL come of a good family, I am proud to say, Spokane.” ' ‘* What the all-fired mystery you doin’ here in this lonely, out-of-the-way. g “i Why,’ pines , Spokane, this is the grandest. spot on. Davy Sail, uc HOY lant Ol the Yellowstone, — if God’s earth. I have traveled the world over and found no such place as the Yellowstone Park.” ‘* Are you livin’ here all alone?” ‘*T like solitude,” Benraymond replied, with some evasion; ‘‘ but since this place has been de- filed with the presence of that man, Fenwick, it will scarcely be to me what it has been.” ‘*'Then he’s an enemy to you, eh?” “Yes, worse than that—a curse. He is a de- mon at heart, and I a:sure you he is in this valley for no good purpose. Whether he knew I was here or rot until we met this evening, I know not, but I do know that I loathed the very soil he trcd cn and came here to be rid of his presence—the scund of his voice—the men- tion of his name, and now, like the curse tkat he is, he comes here. I tell you, Spokane, this valley will not hold both cf uslong. But what surprises me now is your being acquainted with him, and his demands of you.” “eT presume sco, stranger, but I’ve nothin’ to say now about it—reckon you overheard what passed atween us?” ‘*T heard some of it, Spokane.” * What we said ’u’d be nothin’ to you, stren- ger. : Ne but mayke it would; I have always thought that that man’s sins against me have reached even into America. He always swcre that he would have my life-blood after having destroyed my happiness and ruined me.” ‘*Stranger, I think you’re mistaken; it’s scme- thin’ else besides your life he seeks here in Amer- ica—somethin’ that I alone can give—scmethin’ I never will give, so kelp me Ged” ‘‘T overbeard scme remarks he made about a child,” said Benraymond, his eyes fixed search- ingly on the hunter’s face. Spokane started slightly, and for a moment both he and Benraymond were silent. To the hunter there was something almost irresistible in the presence and voice of the mysterious man, and through fear of his own weakness— that he might be led to reveal the one great se- cret of his heart, he changed the subject of con- versation by saying: “Stranger, pardon me; but it’s now dark, and as I’m awful afraid that demon Strahm ’ll slip ‘round and injure my friends, I'd better be oin’. oe Spokane, unless you insist on me goin ashore with you, I will loan you my canoe i you'll return it to-morrow.” Anxious to know more of Benraymond, the hunter promised that he would return the boat. He was satisfied there was scme mystery about the island and its brave and noble occupant. He had seen but very little of the place, and once was sure he heard other footsteps than those of Benraymond on the island. Bidding him good-night, Spokane proceeded to the boat and was sccn afloat on the lake un- der the shadows of night. He headed south- ward, but owing to the darkness he could not tell exactly where to land, and to make sure that he did not pass beyond the camp, he put ashore about two miles from where he had met Strahm and his minions. By this time the moon kad ccme up, flooding the surroundings with a weird and wondrous light, and the first thing Cld Spokane saw on landing was the imprint cf a booted foot in the sand. In fact, there were £cores of tracks, but all were evidently mace Ly the same on passing to and from the lake, They Ted back into the shadow of the yines, and Old Spokane made up his mind that some one must be in camp thereabouts, and proceeded to make a re~ connoissance, But he had advanced but a few pares into the woods when a voice, accompanied y the click of a revolver, demanded: ‘* Who comes there “Don’t shoot, man!” quickly responded the hunter, for the voice Was familiar, although he could not just then recall the name of the per- son; ‘‘ don’t shoot!” b2 repeated; ‘it’s I.” ‘Who are you? Spokane Joe?” asked the voice, ‘ “I should proclamate it was,” was the lacon- ic reply, ‘* and for the life of me I can’t name ou, the man a cry burst from. "e was Frank~ true enough, but he could scarcely recognize him with his pale face,, d head and soiled ga ie 4 —_—— = fe
Page 9
Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, . Zz) ‘* Great geysers, Frank! have you been in tho clutches 0’ a grizzly? Tell me, boy, what’s wrong?’ ‘Everything Spoky,” replied the young man; ‘“‘do you know that the Sioux are scat- tered all through—” “Yes, yes, boy; but you don’t mean to say they—” “They attacked us at Mary’s Lake. Several of them were ambushed on Wiima’s Isle, and when Baby Sam landed there with Wilma and Sarah the girls were captured, and when we three boys went to their rescue we were set up- on and Fred Sears, and for all I know, Baby Sam, was slain.” «And are the gals still captives, Frank?” ‘**T know nothing to the contrary.” *‘Oh, Lord!” groaned the old hunter; ‘ this'll kill your poor old father! Boy, what’s the meanin’ of it?” “*T know not, Spoky, but there is treachery. at work somewhere. Those savages knew to the very day when we were to be at the island. By agreement, Baby Sam met us there and carried us to tho island in his boat—taking the girls first, for the boat was too small to carry all, Onthe way over with Fred and I, Spar- rowhawk, the Friendly Crow, who'd also been on the island and had discovered the intention of the Sioux, swam unobserved by them along- side our canoe and warned us of our danger. We were about half-way to the island but at once turned back to the mainland, and after a consultation we'resolved to attempt the rescue -of the girls. So we re-embarked for the island, on which wo landed and were in search of tho irls when attacked. by eight or ten savages. oor Fred fell dead at the beginning of the fight, though not before he got in his work on ared-skin. The next moment I fell under {™s blow of a flying tomahawk at the sido of Baby Sam,” ‘But how came you here, Frank?” ‘That’s the remarkable thing of the whole affair; after Sparrowhawk had warned us of our danger he swam off. He is such a peculiar Indian that we thought nothing of his not go- ing to “a us; but when I recovered my senses after the fight I found Sparrowhawk sitting at my side in under a great Project rock at tho water’s edge. From him I learned that he did take a hand in the fight on the island; but after I fell and tho battle seemed to be against us, the Indian dragged me from the field down into the lake unobserved by the Sioux, who were intent on killing or capturing Baby Sam. How the Indian accomplished it I cannot imagine, but he swam with my body to a place of refuge ‘and there dressed and bandaged my gashed ‘head. But, Spoky, that noble act of the Crow ‘was my reward for cering for him and giving ‘him medicine and food when he lay sick in our ‘settlement a year ago when all others refused to go near him, believing he had the small-pox.” ‘Boy, ye know the Scripter says to cast_your bread ‘on the waters; but whar’s the Ingin now?” ied ‘Off in search of Wilma and Sarah. I came here in hopes of meeting you and father, but feeling weak and tired, I told the Crow I would rest here till he came back.” ‘* Wonder the red-skins didn’t find you here,” said Spokane. ‘* Are they around here, too?” ‘“T should say so, boy—see that?” and he raised his hat and displayed a bandage on his head; ‘‘a red-skin’s hatchet did it.” “Ts father safe, Spoky? the young man asked, the shadow of a fear creeping over him. “Was when I left, boy, bout an hour before ‘sunset, He’s been feelin’ happy all day over the thoughts of meeting you young folks to- morrow or next day.” . “Poor father! it will almost kill him when he ‘learns the fate that has befallen our party. How far is he away, Spokane? : ‘Not over a mile away this blessed minute; but it'll nighly craze him when he sees his boy all battered and pounded up. And poor Baby Sam! the Gallatin valley will weep for him and refuse to be comforted, but tter hurry along to camp,” But I promised Sparrowhawk I'd Satan ies ed.” hell find you, or else we'll move our pate 9 -his canoe, Old Spokane led the “way tow camp, where they finally arrived | uneasy about the old hunter’s safety. But the presence of hisson there in such a plight, and the news be brought of the Wilma Island tragedy almost drove the father frantic with grief, and it was all his friends could do to re- strain him from rushing madly away in search of his idolized daughter, and talk him into quiet and composure, ‘When they did, however, Old Spokane narrated his adventures around the lake, though he withheld that part relating to Donald Strahm’s demands upon him for the restoration of lis child, and his timely rescue by the mysterious Aaron Benraymond. After hearing the old man’s story, Henry Rodman made up his mind that Donald Strahm and the man Benraymond, were some way, di- rectly or indirectly, responsible for the pres- ence of the Indians there in the valley; though, in view of. the kindness and help given Spokane, he could not associate Benraymond in criminal league with Strahm. His views, however, were entirely at variance with thoso of Old Spokane, and the more they discussed the matter the more it became involved in perplexing mystery. CHAPTER IX. BABY SAM IN TROUBLE. In the conflict in the Indian bivouac where Sarah Marshall was held a captive Sabina Bandy, the wife.of Old Kit, played ean import- ant part. Concealed in her aces was a tiny revolver, which she did not hesitate to use when the life of her recreant lord was endangered, but what was the most surprising was that she used it against the red-skin:, her husband’s boon companions, Then as soon as all had been wrapped in dark- | | ness by Old Eit sweeping the fire in every direc- tion, she turned and ran to where Sarah stood, and with a keen-edged knife severed her bonds, atthe same time saying: ~ ‘** Come, child—quick! escape with mo!” Scarcely aware of what she was doing, Sarah rmitted herself to be hurricd away into the igyptian darkress of the vroods, nor was ske permitted to stop until a point was reached ata safe distance from the scene of conflict. Then old Sabina seemed to realize for the first time that they were alone, ** Please tho Merciful Master!” she exclaimed, ‘we are away from them horrid savages, but have become separated from Christopher and that big gs F and in this darkness we'll never find them. If I only dared to I'd call Christopher, but that’d just tell the Ingins exactly where we were,” : ‘Mrs, Bandy, what if your husband and Baby Sam were slain?” said Sarah. ‘““Tt’d be dreadful, child, Creadful; but if Christopher’s the same man he was years ago he'll meiae them Ingins, for he’s an old dodger. I’ve known him these years, the old deceiver,” Meanwhile the “old deceiver” and Baby Sam had taken advantage of the darkness that fell 80 suddenly on the combatants to escape into the woods, going in the direction they supposed Sabina and Sarah had taken; but, to their dis- appointment, they soon discovered that they were separated from the women entirely, ‘* What in the plague are we going to do, Kit?” Sam asked, ** We'll have to do the best we can, and if we don’t run across the weemen to-night, maybe daylight ll make matters all right. If it wern’t for that leetle gal, I’d not bother myself "bout that old lady, for I’ll bet if a cyclone ’d carried her away from that camp she’d turn up all right some day with reticule and umbrella in hand. She’s no tenderfoot, is Sabe, and when it comes to a real fight she’s a hull litter o’ wild- cats, she is by the horn of Joshua! Say, didn’t ye hear the ‘ping’ of her little shooter when he ball opened? Why, Baby, she can hit the Goddess o’ Liberty on a silver dollar ten yards every pop; but, say, did ye git hurt any in the racket?” : ‘*Not the least; everthing worked like a charm in the attack, but our bad luck comes in losing the girl.” ‘‘Let’s move along, Baby, and mebbe we'll stumble across them somewhere, If we come within their hearin’ old Sabina’ll let it be known, and don’t you forgit to remember it.” So saying they turned and moved away— wandering around in an aimless sort of a way that was quite discouraging to the Boy Giant, . They traveled on for an hour or more then they sat down to discuss their future course, The silence of the Place was broken b the boil me bubble of the ‘‘ Mush Pot,” a local nameap- ed to a boiling vat of .chalk,.and the rush and | roar of a great geyser about a mileaway, known as Old Faithful. to find Mr, Rodman and Professor Drood sorely “‘ After a few minutes’ talk, the two resumed their tramp. They moved back into the hills and soon found themselves traversing a narrow defile where the shadows lay deep and dark. Side by side they moved on until the way be came so narrow as to compel them to walk one behind the other. Old Kit took the lead. The defile grew deeper, darker, narrower, as they advanced, and finely Baby Sam observed: ““T guess this pass’s going to run together, Kit.” ‘Looks that way.” But they moved on and finally found the defile growing a little wider. Suddenly the Boy Giant exclaimed: “Stop, Kit—listen!” They came to a stop and listened, when the sound of footsteps was heard coming behind through the pass, mingled with low, excited voices, ‘Plagues of Egypt!” exclaimed Baby Sam, ‘‘wo're being pursued, Kit.” ‘*'Yes, and Ly the eternal Satan!” responded the old mountain detective, ‘‘I hear the voice o the outlaw, Scott Dresden, among them— Thar! that war his cussed lip!” ‘“Worward, then, old pard, forward! We need more room than we’ve got here to do some royal fightin’.” They hurried on through the defile that was now growing more tortuous and difficult to fol- low than ever. But this suddenly ended in a good-sized opening walled in on all sides by rising vertically to the hight of hundreds of feet. But to their utmost astonishment they discovered the smoldering embers of a camp- fire, that gave forth a faint glow, close in under the wall on the right, and in its dim light they saw some articles of clothing, blankets and ce equipage that bore a suspicious look, “By the horn of old Joshua!” exclaimed Bandy, as he gazed around him, ‘ we’ve run right into the devils’ rendezvous, boy!” ‘*' Yes, and hear them coming, Kit!” said the Boy Giant. t one side of the retreat the fugitives saw a continuation of the defile, and at once made to- ward it, but it was so narrow that Old Kit, with difficulty, essed himself through side- ways, saying, as he did so: - Good Lord! boy, you'll never git your big carcass through here! Take off that cartridge belt and pass it through to me—reduce yerse. and squeeze through—quick, for they’re comin’ !” Unbuckling his belt he handed it, with his rifle, through to Kit, then turning his left side to the passage, he said; “Pll squeeze threugh, Kit, or bu’st this old mountain.” — With all his vet strength the young moun- taineer crowded himself into the passage, but be- fore half his body was concealed the jaws of the great rocks seemed to fasten upon him and hold him as if in a vise. The voice of the pursuers could now be heard but a few paces away. ‘“‘Tt’s no use, Kit,” Sam protested; “I can’t ma/sre it—Ill have to fight.” “Then git back, boy, so’s I can help you— quick!” ordered Kit. “T can’t, Kit, I'm fast—wedged in—flee, man, while you can!” Searcely had the last word fallen from the brave boy’s lips ere Scott Dresden, the outlaw, burst into the retreat followed by a dozen or more companions, most of whom were savages, With a yell that went roaring up through the black defile, Dresden, like a panther, sprung forward to seize the Boy Giant. But the lat- ter’s strong right arm was free, and when the villain came within reach he seized him by the shoulder, and with all his prodigious strength swung him around and drove his face with mighty force against the rough, jagged wall, cutting and mashing it in a most frightful manner, and knocking the breath out of him. But the next moment a dozen violent hands seized the Boy Giant and dragged him from the aws of the trap that had caught him, opening he way through which four savages glided in pursuit of Old Kit, A desperate hand-to-hand stages now en- sued between Baby Sam and the foe, and the boy bid fair to hold his own, when a cowardly pot ade struck him on the head from behind an the place. But the most. distressed-looking ob-_ ect revealed to the of the victors was Kee ace of their leader, Scott Dresden, { mae % i sit 1 : ~Nedy f reas = nn | ra) ned eu a ay ae a oer DEST AY MLD PaO Tate es ba
Page 10
> aby exclaimed: _ ‘*Man, take that fiend incarnate to the near- est boiling spring and throw him in alive! The devil shall have man broth for his breakfast!” CHAPTOR X. “DONALD STRAHM CALLS ON SCOTT DRESDEN, EAGER for the fiendish work, Dresden’s fol- lowers seized the Boy Giant and started to drag him away to the nearest boiling spring, but be- fere they were out of the retreat’ the outlaw chief said: ‘* Hold on, men; let us wait until morning. want the young demon to brood over his fate awhile; besides, I want to see him flop and flounder when he goes into the broth-pot.” With evident. disappointment the outlaw’s menials brought the prisoner back and, rebound his feet and forced him to be seated. The suffering of Dresden was fully equal to his revengeful fury, One of his eyes swelled shut in a few minutes, while his: whole face was eut and bruised beyond recognition. The only alleviation he could find was in constant appli- cation of cold water, and to obtain this he had to go to a little moeuntain-stream, over two hun- lved: yards from the ‘‘ Grotto,” as the outlaws called their rendezvous. He took three men | with him as a body-guard, and there for hours he sat and bathed his face and swore, and swore and bathed. It. was long after midnight when he returned to the Grotto, feeling considerably easier, but in nowise: improved in looks. To his joy he found that the number of his friends had in- | sreased during his absence, and that: Donald M Half-blinded and choked with blood, and suf- fool by any means, Seott Dresden. But I hav’n’t | fering the most intense agony, the outlaw chief | told you of the biggest surprise of the season, turned to his followers and, in terrible passion, | | | of the earl of Hanover, in England, of his dis- I | the settlements of the territories for my arn Strahm, one white man, and three Indians were the parties joining them. ‘* Great hounds of Satan!” exclaimed Strahm, | as Dresden entered the Grotto. ‘Captain Dresden, you look as though you’d been fighting | a wind-mill.” ‘“'There’s the cause of it!” hissed Dresden, | sointing toward Baby Sam. | ‘**So I understand; but I congratulate you on ais capture.” “ Thanks, my Lord Fenwick,” returned the dutlaw, “but if we'd succeeded in getting that’ a eS ee ee Sam, the captain.” ** Well, I’m prepared now to hear of ’most any kind of a surprise, my lord,” said Dresden. “Well, you remember i told you all about my troubles with one Warren Hanover, the son | appearance and my trip to America on busi- | ness with Mrs. Ann Kirby? Then you remem- ber that I told you that Jack Prunty, the set- tler with whom Id left my child had been massacred by the Indians, that the child had been taken. captive but was afterward ransomed by a party of emigrants bound for the West, and that for two years I'd searched among all and that I had finally fixed upon a certain gir as being mine from her wondertul resemblance to her dead mother, ‘* Yes, yes,” replied Dresden, ‘‘I remember all that, of course, but where does the surprise come in?” ‘* Why, sir, by accident I stumbled into: the camp of an Se aringperte beets under: one Professor Drood, and who should 1 meet there, well and alive, but my man, Jack Prunty, sail- ing under the colors of Spokane Joe.” ** Oh, Moses and the bullrushes! you don’t tell me Old Spokane Joe’s your treasure-keeper?” ‘*No other, sir, no other than Jack ‘aint but he pretended not to know me in their own cainp, nor did I pretend to know him. I,con- cluded my: bird was already in the bush, and | that it would only be a question of time until it was in hand.. So I'said nothing to them more | than to tell them I was a disgusted prospector anxious to: get out-of the country, but my man, Prunty—Old Spokane—it seems, suspected all was not right and followed me up; but one of | my scouts discovered.the fellow, and we laid for him and finally cornered him on the lake- shore. As I had him foul, as I thought, I de- manded my child’s whereabouts, but, sir, he | had the accursed impudence to tell me it wasn’t my child Pd left with him, and flared vp and showed his teeth. So I had to call out my men, and the old tiger shot one of them down, and but for the fact that I wanted him alive he would have been ann'‘bilated.there and then. Finally one of the boys tripped him. up: and the battle seemed won; but before he could ‘be se- sunning: devil we’ve known as Big Horn, then | cured a tall, bearded man, with eyes glowing (d be b be served. I tell zade all along, an 1aPPY for the ends of justice would)soon | lilxe a demon’s, bounded from the cover of some rd ou I mistrusted that rene- | un | now to him and that big: | hane, and so; dexterously and: so rapidly did he regrowth with a long, whip-like sword in his fummix of a boy there, we are indebted forthe | handle the flashing blade that his very head and loss of both of those girls that we have worked | shoulders seemed: surrounded bya. nimbus of and planned so long to capture at Mary’s Lake.” ‘“¢ Thunder and Mars! you don't tell me, cap- tain?” ‘“‘T do, sir; after the girls had been captured, and that Boy Giant also, I detailed each one to: kill the other, for I wanted Big Horn out of my way as well as Big Sam, and cuss me if they didn’t turn on, us, killed Stackpole and Doyle flame. I drew my revolver to shoot him, but he divined my intention, lunged forward, and somehow-or other—I don’t know. exactly how— he caught my weapon on the point of his sword And: that man, my dear sir, was no other than Warren Hanover, the son of the Earl of Han- over! ‘“‘ Great mortality!” exclaimed Dresden, “‘ do who were acting as seconds, and then dropped you suppose he is on a trail, too?” two more men, and the rest, of us barely,escaped With our lives. Big Horn joined:a party of our red-skin friends | who'd still one 0 “7 can’t see for the life of'me how he can be, Then again—just to-night— | Lthink our meeting simply a coincident,” ‘ Pil be cussed if it don’t begin to look like a co- the girls in custedy,: and | incident that is likely to bring us more trouble,” played his role of ‘big Ingin, much brave,’ and | replied Dresden; ‘‘ but’) what became’ of your the first thom red-skins knew, that big hound: | was upon'them like a hurricane: beating them | lown with a club, while Big Horn shot, and | lost m kicked and. cut. The: result) was that the. girl was rescued and run off in the night. We heard. | the battle and hurried: forward to take a hand, but were two minutes too late. You see, not one of the Sioux: knew of Big Horn’s treachery at the lake, andso he: played it handsomely. Lord Peter !: if Pd only been therein camp when he came in, ’'d) made him ‘blat.? So. you see our ecampaign’s a flat failure so faras the cap- ture of the girls is concernedi” ‘**T think I can tell you where one of the girls is, captain,” saidi Donald Strahm, . “cc Indeed?’ p “To-day; or yesterday, rather, toward even- ing, we saw a small canoe gliding across the: waters of the Yellowstone Takes and it con- tained two occupants, one of which was a | woman beyond a little island: which we afterward discovered was. a floating island. ‘Phe: deuce you say!" exclaimed | Dresden; “my lord; I’m afraid’ our game’s going to be checkmated all around—we've been given away by a traitor.” “Then that traitor must be Big Horn, who, while we were holding seeret meetings in-your . ledge in the Sioux village; overheard all: by eavesdropping. I tell you that fellow’s not a oubt. The boat touched ata | English: swordsman?” ‘* Well, the fight was a drawn battle. After I revolver L leaped backward to eseape the fellow’s. sword, when my folks; supposing I was lighting out for dear life, turned and ran, too; but: our gallant foe did not follow us, and the next we saw, him and Old:Spokane, as we supposed, was ini a boat pulling out /into the lake. They finally:touched at the same-island where the other boat had:landed its occupants.” ‘“‘ By heavens! that. island’s got to be pulled,” declared Scott: Dresden, “‘ for it may be. the point from whence all our trouble is emanat- ing.” The two villains had carried on: all this con- versation in the hearing of Baby Sam. They regarded him as powerless to do them: further harm, but when the subject had so changed’as to inelude the Boy Giant, Donald Strahm turned to the prisoner and saide “Perhaps you could tell us’ something about the conduct of Big Horn, Baby Sam—in other words, what’s he up to?” “ He’s up to your little game;” replied Baby m. ‘* He is, eh? Well; what: else can you: tellus? —do you know where those girls—Wilma: Rod- man and Sarah Marshall are?” “You: impudent: scoundrel!” the Boy Giant fairly hissed, “if I did know Td die a dozen deaths before I'd tell you!” ar 3 ‘Boy Giant of the Yellowstone, | and twirled it out of my hand like lightning. ‘Qh, he’s a mad fool!” Dresden snarled, ‘‘ but he'll get the chance to-morrow morning to die one death, that'll atone for some of his murder- ous work, now mind ” By this time night was well advanced, end | after the guards watching the approaches to the grotto had been changed, Dresden and Strahm rolled themselves in blankets and laid down to rest. Bright and early the next morning they were astir. An ample supply of feod that was con- cealed in the grotto was brought out, ecoked and ecaten; and after their matutinal meal, which had been washed down with villainous whisky, Scott Dresden turned and shouted out: ‘Now, men, to the Devil’s Broth Pot with that young bruiser!” Up to this moment Baby Sam had entertained a faint hope that, if die he must, he would be killed outright, and not subjected to the hellish tortures conceived by the brain of the monster, Scott Dresden. / It was not over a mile to the great geyser known among the hunters and Indians as ‘* The Devil’s Broth Pot,” though pointed out to tour- ists now.as *‘ Old Faithful.” Its eruptions occur at intervals of about seventy minutes with all the regularity of the flow and ebb of the ocean’s tide: It lasts about twenty minutes, then ceases, and the boiling flocd smks out of sight in the crater to gather new force for another outburst. It was but a short time till the outlaws and savages, with their captive, came in sight of the geyser. It was located on the summit of a large, cone-shaped knoll that for ages upon ages bad been forming frem sediment thrown from the geyser. The sides of the cone were cut into hundreds of ‘little channels by the rushing of | the waters.. In the little valley at its base was a large) channel through which the boiling liquid escaped into the Fire Hole river that flowed hard by. Just across this channel] was a gradual ascent crowned with a dense growth of oe he geyser ‘was quiet when the cutlaws came in sight of it. “Hadn’t-we better wait here until after: the ‘Pot’ boils again?’ said Dresden, stopping at the edge of the pincs near the foot of the cane. ‘Tt hasn’t been twenty minutes since itceased its tumult,” responded Strahm; ‘‘andit will be nearly an hour yet before there is any’ danger from its: spouting: In: that time we can get over tor the crater, dump cur game and: get back/here.. Isay let’s:push right ahead and get the job off our bands.” “ Alb right; forward march!” commanded Dresden, leaping the:channel and beginning the ascent of the cone. Four men conducted the doomed boy toward the geyser with his hands tied at his hack and a revelver at his head. The Indians were all left on the safe side of the cone. Their super- stitious: fears: would not permit of their ap- proaehing nearer to the dreaded *‘ Broth Pot.” In his fiendish desire to burl the author of his battered countenance into the great cal- dron, Dresden: hurried on and reached. the'cra- ter a bundred paces im advance of those who were laboring along with.the captive. He stood on the very rim of the crater, whose diameter~ was fully six feet, and gazed down into the hot, cavernous depths fromvwhence ¢ameanominaus * gurgling sound. He felt the marble-like earth beneath his feet shake and quiver with internal emotion. He could'see the boiling finid rising slowly in tke porcelain-lined throat of the cra- ter; and suddenly he beard and felt: the roar of underground thunder that was immediately fol- lowed meee upward rush of hissing’steam that: caused him to start back in alarm. And this in turn was succeeded by a boarse gurgling” moan, a violent trembling of: the ‘cone; when, with the force of @ mighty hurricane, a river of boiling water six feet in thickness shot up into the air to the hight of two hundred feet. The rays of the sun, which was just rising above the distant mountain range, shone upon. the mists of white steam and formed a bright rainbow above.the summit of the column of in- ” describable splendor and: glory, while the water: bursting outward at the top of' the column, like a gigantie fountain, descended to earth in a perfect: torrent of pearls, But, grand as was. . the sight, the situation-was equally as perilous. Of| this the outlaw was fully aware, and turn-- ing witha shout of warning to his friends, he dashed away to. es the falling flood of boil- ing water, which, being undisturbed by’ the: air, fell with equal and. thunderous, force all’ around the summit of the cone. Soon a mighty” flood: was rolling: down the. slope in one hroad sheet, and: the outlaws in chargevod. Raby Sam, .
Page 11
ee ie os $ a cs a “Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of tho Vollowctone. | it seeing their deadly danger, turned and ran for their lives, knowing that the boy must follow or porish in the scalding flood, | 3 he Boy Giant readily realized his simation, | He saw that the time for him had come to act | not only in saying himself from the water, but to elude his foes, and throwing all his prodi- gious strengh into one superhuman effort ho burst the bonds that fettered bis hands and once more stood free. At this very juncture Scott Dresden dashed ast him at a wild, breakneck run, and wien pee a few fect away stumbled and fell heavily to the earth. Before he could rise the Boy Giant was upon him, and stooping, he seized | the villain by each ankle and swung him around upon his back as though he had been a mere child, Then drawing each of the yelling out- law’s feet over his shoulders the boy dashed away, but he did not go in the direciion taken py the others but bore sharply off to the left so as toturn his back almost upon those standing at the foot of the cone. Dresden, hanging head. Cownward clutched frantically at the air and yelled hike a demon, butin the hands of the young Hercules ke was vowerless, fami’s sole object in thus carrying him was to protect himself from the bullets of the savages waiting among the pines. Ib was the boy’s only hope—an oxnodiont that his quick ’ brain had conceived, and h's giant strength ’ i =) enabled him to carry out. But the successful exeeution, cf the young mountaineer’s plan of escape was greater éven than its conception, for by the time he was fairly under way the flood had overtaken him, but in spreading. oub over the cone its depth had been so reduced as to enable tho hundreds of little channels beforo mentioned to carry the boiling flood. But even then the fugitive could proceed only by Jeaping from one projection to another, in doing wiuch a single misstep would prove fatal, ; The moment the, savage saw tho boy’s des- perate move, they setup a wilt: yelling and opened fire with their rides, Baby Sam could hear their bullets'whistling around lim, but he Inew they were nat shooting 10. kill, for tho life of their leader was. in equal danger with his own, and he had heard: the whistle of bullets too often around, his: head toa be intimidated by the sound, With his eves fixed on the carth before him, his testh seb and ovory nerve strunz to its utmost, tension, the brave hoy bounded along amid tho sealding, steaming rivulets. and at last reached the great channel that received tho flood at the foot of the cone, With a breath of relief he Gropped the out- law, leaped across the ditch, Houded up the gentle, slope, beyond and plunged. into. the shadows of the pine weeds.a, wild, ringing shout of defiance pers from his lips, But scarcely had he gong a doven steps among the trees when a voice called out to him: ‘Hore, boy—this way!” He glanced to, the right and.saw Old Kit Bandy approaching, his face aglow with ex- citement and joy. “ Glory, Kit! P’'m glad to meet you!” the boy exclaimed, breathing heavily, ‘Here, Jad, ’s your Winchester and cartridge- belt—good thing you give ’em to. me—maga- zine’s chock-full—shoot the devils down if they crowd you!” Baby Sam took the belt and quickly buckled it around him, then, 28 he gresped his rifle, a stern smile wreathed his lips, his big eves flashed with the licht of a desperate determination, and stepping behind a rock, upon which he rested his gun, he said: ‘ ‘Now, curse them, it’s my turn!” Soon he caught sight of two red-skins— one behind the other—gliding elone like hounds upon his trail, and quickly glancing along his rifle he pressed the trigger and both savages fell dead—the report of the gun rolling away in sul- len: echoes, and mingling with the roar and tu- mult of the Devil’s Broth Pot. _ Quickly ths young mountainecr threw an- other cartridge into his rifle, and the glimpse of &@ moving figure among the pines invoked an- other deadly shot. Several moments of silence row elapsed and no more savages appearing, Old Kit, who had stood an admiring spectator of the young gl- ant’s deadly work, said: “By the ram’s-horn of Joshua! Beby Samuel, you're a splendid lump o’ humanity—an up- roar’ous young hurricane. J.reekon the devils ll not tamper with a bottled cyclone soon arain, But, say, Baby, what on carth were you coing’ over there near the geyser?” “Why, my brave captors took me over there to throw me into the crater, tomake man->roth for the devil’s breakfast,” ** And what saved you, lad?” “‘Hfe. who controls. the destinies of man, and whose mighty power is seen in the wgnders of Wonderland. The geyser bogan to flow before they got mo to the crater, and I was saved.” ** Bless the Lord!” said Old IXit, reverently, “*T camo in sight just as you shouldered that feller and started. I’d’a' put in.a shot for, you, but I war afraid the revert o’ the gun might lead you to think enemies were in front of you, as well as behind, and throw you off your base.” ““That scoundrel I covered my retreat with was Scott Dresden, and I don’t see what 1 was doing that I didn’t throw him into the escape- channel that was half-full of sealding water.” “It, war a pity, boy, it’s true, hut you did nobly in savin’ yourself, for Pll swear you're needed. now, lad, if ever you were. Them' poor gals—” “Yes, yo3, Icit, they must bo. saved)” inter- | rupted tho boy, and, shouldering his, rifle, ho | turned, and the two moved away through the i; cool morning chacows, @HAPTER XI. KIT BANDY LETS HIS LIGHT SHINE, In hones of meeti g the friendly Crow, Sparrow- hawk. Old Spokane Joc, Professor Drood, and Frank Rodman and his father broke camp et once and pro- ceeded to Where the hunter bed found Frank and coneealed his canoe, Here they passed the night in anxious Waiting, but no Sparrowhawk came Ard when daylight dawned great was their surprise to find that the canoe bad been taken from where Spokane had left it, and they could acco nt for its disappearance on no other theory than that the Crow had returned while Frank was away, and finding bee gone and the cane there t.ad taken it away with 1)'3, Fran Rodman sorely rerretted this in view ef the great kindness o’ the avenger plunged moatlly thro’ her veins. She’ chane d her neme to Morths Meggs, and sought the” confidence of Mrithow Hoop, the lawrer-d¢tective . who beran to lay for Fenwick, But the cudacioug scoundrel seemed to have mistrusted thet he war iv” canger, end so all at once he put out for—well, no.” body knew where, and so Martha Mergs teenn ta fear her game had dodged her for good. But she~ waited: end watched with Ingin stcicisu). In the. meantime Werren Hanover returned from hig tray- els ofter "bout. three years’ ahsence. Mrs. Meges sought him out and revealed tohim her whole secret —confessing she'd been duped and deceived by the. villain F nwick, Hanover was mad—furicns—wild. He told Mrs, Meggs that Fenwick was the worst’ enemy monever had—that ever since he'd won and wed his—Fonwick’s—cousin he’d pursued bim like a demon. IF nwick wanted the aig hims: If. and he. $wore when Hanover married her he’d pursue them to the grove, Honover ssid the villain’s constant threats and slard rous tongue hod killed Lis wife,. and now mronoged to coninve Tis vengeance by stealing I's child. Put Mrs, Meges ard be at once’ posted 'cff for America after the child, but, juégce of, their herrt.rencin? surprise when they reac! ed here’ to find that Jack P:unty and his wife bad stor‘ed on further west with some emigrants and t! at all had been massacred_ by the Ingins,. This nighly drove | Mrs. Mer¢s mad, while Warren Hanover was com- pletely crushed in spirit. Mrs. Meges remained in’ Americawi'h hersist r who wer stil or the fron-_ tier, while Hancver went away she knew not where nor Coes she to this day. “Time went by and one day Mrs. Megos met a Mrs. Phebe Conners, who’d once been a captive with the Sioux, and had been ransomed. Upon in- quiry she found that woman was with the emi- rrart train at the time Prunty and his family, were reported killed; but Mrs. Conners did nob be- a lieve Pruvty and the child were killed cr cap. tured, but she saw his wife slain, The last time ako saw Jack was in the evenin’ jist. before sunset. He war on 9 hoss goin’ down the river tosee *bout the cattle that war in core, and he took the litt eo babe with him. When he war a short Ways from | eamp the Ingins burst upon fhe. unsuspecting e i ; \ 7 ier ’ ied ah Baye ; f * (| ae : bas A 4 5 Pee a ah ee . * * Ay art . “A Fo bs 5 . ’ Pe ~~ * r 7 - aed 4 1 , Nal y . mi > ll a 4 Cae. 4 255 Ri I aes ER IEEE STE Se ie TNE RE Poe Moe Oe SREP ee re Nabe to wiht ig —— eee ee OS | sent ee BA ee tt pe o: ee Cana ee A On na
Page 12
Prunty had a good chance to csceape, and . Conners thouzsut he Cid. \,hile a capiive, a hite man came to the India village with the out- W, Scott Dresden, searchin’ for tie cLild Irene, yh from the description of him Mrs. Meggs thinks ~~ war tho vilain Fenwick. From a conversation rs, Conner3 overheard betwech Dresden and the | SU ranger, se was satisfied that Dresden had a hand _dev:ithe massacre, and he assured the stranger that situer Prunty nor the child was kitied. With this formation Mrs. Moges returned to England and rain sought the ai lof Matthew Hocpel, determined pon find th» esild if it was livin’. rE. But in the mean time years had passed by. arren Iianover had not been heard of for several lowsars, a:.d his frinds all suppose] he had been himiled or cied in Australia, Through Hoopel, Mrs. fereggs also learned that the child, Irene Hanover, chierough her dead mother, had become heir to an iimense fortune which, in case of her death or ERP arares by a-certa‘n lime, t @ conrt very Walsularly decrecdl, should revert to Norton Fen- awlielk, next of kin. Now this being known to Ien- flouick, who’d retu:ned to England off and on, you Ve it meant a fortune to him for the girl never to mer) up alive, and learning that a search was being his @4¢ for hor in America—though he cou'dn't have rpistrusted the source, for he was still ignorant of _*rs. Kirby’s being alive—he struck out—or this was we ee ee try and find her and get her out shu the way, cut Now, as I said before, Matthew Hoopel end Mrs, qlieggs came and employed me to hunt up the gal. agtiat war three years ago, Itook tie trail pointed to ¢ by the ransomed captive, Mrs. Conners, and now “0 §m what Baby Sain overheard at the grotto when VC war a captive, think I’ve found the man, Jack 2alhint , ant that s you, Spokane Je”? witOld Spokane glanced quickly at Henry Rodman: he e muscles of his mouth twitched nervously; he anossed his hand over his brow like one in great puble of mind, Sor a minute all were silent. but bo aing every cys fixed upon him, the old hunter Yo ally said: In » Yes, Bandy, Tam that man, J-ck Prunty.” fou't Well,” said the o'd detective, cooll-, ‘it appears syeat Donald Stranm is Norton Fenwick, and that he 3traided in bis soarch for the girl by Scott Dresden, the? outlaw, and a pack cf Sioux savages; and if she (dls into his hands she’s a dead girl,”’ * Good God! men, this must not happen!” cried a8 snry Rodman, springing to his feet. Dré No, no!” thundered the Boy Giant, ‘nor shall it a vough my idleness here!”’ and tae next moment ‘s young mountaineer had caught up his rifle ant 1d. Jint to continue my story: from other things dutby Sam overheard in the grotto, Norton Fenwick yd the father of that gal, Irene, must have met in Pattie poatersap haces lake-shore. The man Ben- pe “mond must arren Hanover.”’ ‘Then,’ cried Old Spokane, “* Benraymond is the MXher cf—” UDe did not speak tha nams, His voice seemed to os] him, and»turninz he walked away as if over- amelmed with emotion, and looked out over the Laicid waters of the lake through a mist of tears. ‘ = CHAPTER XIT. pat A DARING ADVENTURE BY BALY SAM. ‘ApINA Banpy and Sarah Marshall fled from the Wne of conflict back into the darksome hills, the ci} woman exercising all the ssill and precaution of wa old borderman; but being unfamihar with the qoography of the surrounding country, she could ‘dthe way tono certain point. And as soon as discovered that they were separated from Kit "1 Baby Sam, and that there was as much danger Wirunning into as from troubles, sheconcluded that Biy had better conceal themselves until morning, which they did, Sabina keeping watch while Sarah pld.down and slept. And when daylight came and ihr Maiden was still asleep, Sabina Git not wake es, but | indly watched by her side until she awoke, Won-n the old woman took some cold meat from ‘lo: petienle and shared it with Sarah, and after her ae: DU sue tho valleys 2s much in hopes of meeting . ‘his second misfortune crushed almest every ‘Sark of hope in Sarah’s breast, and even Ol bina’s usual strong pe gave way, and she fe!l weeping in kysterical sobs, inmong the outlaws was Ecott Dresden, with his wek and purple swollen face, Denald Strahm was ) with them, and he scemed more disappointed ten elated over the capture of Sarah acd Old Woina. lithe captives were at once marched through the aods to the northern cxtremity of the Yellowstone ke, where they all went into camp on a densely- «coded, tongue. cf land jutting out several rods into + water, ©)n the point an Indian found a large canoe, the Dygession of which hivbly pleased Donald Strahm craft htinto were edition naa prison for the cate 1 a nm 10) capt es, W aund banda d foot and placed in it... Then the | poi8.fone. 3 5 *~ ) L : F J — iat rs * an n . \ r 4 ti j ae no 8 rest
Page 13
a Bw f ee — “Poor papa! how I wish I could go right over to him. I think our danger is all over with now, don’t you, Sam?”’ ‘*Thope so,’ the young mountaineer replied; “but, Wilma, how came you upon ¢/is island? Who rescued you and brought you here?” “J learned from Sarah, who is now in Mr. Ben- raymond’s cabin, that it was you who shot the 7 aC that was dragging me along the ledge, and—’ * And did the animal not injure you, Wilma?” “Not in the least, and you may wonder at it, too, But you see those wretched Indians had wrapped me in so many thicknesses of a blanket, that the panther’s teeth did not reach the flesh. It was vee rowhawk, the friendly, who. after you had killed the panther, carried me away toa place of safety. He was on the ledge at the time the shot was fired, and as you were concealed in the thick woods below he could not see you, but supposed that it was a Sioux that shot the beast.” “Well, good for Sparrowhawk,” said Sam; “ but what a queer Indian he is, He never opened a head fo me about rescuing you or your being 6a e.”” ‘*He does not talk much, Sam, but he is a good ae if one lives. Healso saved brcther Frank's ife.’ “Yes, so Frank told me," replied the Boy Gi- ant; “but, Wilma, didn’t Sparrowhawk bring you een this island after he fled with you from the ie?’ ‘He did, Sam, though I was unconscious at the time, and you may judge of my surprise and bewil- derment when I recovered to finda strange, bearded man seated at my bedside.” “Ay, it was Aaron Benraymond,” said Sam; ‘‘do you know who he is, Wilma?” “Nothing only that. he is a noble, kind-hearted man, living here alone with no one but Sparrow- hawk, his scout, fora companicn. I think he has some great sorrow weighing upon him. Once when I awoke from a feverish ey long in the dead hour of night, he was sitting by my bedside tad ing. It made me feelso sorry for him that I could not help weeping, too. Once he knelt by my bedside and prayed, AgainIsaw him pacing the floor of his tent with his eyes fairly blazing, his teeth set, and his whole being so changed that it frightened me. I thought hewas going mad. I know you will like him, Sam, for he is such a nobdls and kind-heart- ed man. It was he who covered you with the blank- et this morning, and would not let us awaken you. He said Fa were tired and needed the sleep and rest, and so all morning I have _ been by eae and watching for you to awake, Oh, you don’t know how happy i am.” “T don’t, eh?” replied Sam; “well, I only hope ou are as as happy as I am, my deargirl. But Wilma, did Mr, Baraymond tell yu anything of his past life?” * Nothing, Sam, whatever.” “Well, I have heard so much of him that I am anxious to meet him.’’ “Come then with me, and your wish shall be gratified,’’ said Wilma, leading the way toward the cabin near the center of the island. Reaching the door. she conducted him into the cabin, and when Mr. Benraymond advanced to meet them, she said: “Mr. Benraymond, this is my young friend, Sam- uel Burling.” : * Otherwise known as Baby Sam, the Boy Giant,” said Benraymond, with a smile, as he grasped the boy’s hand and shook it warmly; ‘‘my boy, wel- come to my humble home—you of whom I hava heard so much, Iam glad to meet you, my boy. heard a little maiden talking of you inher sleep the otber night, and for hersake am I also glad, for I see your coming has brought the roses to her cheeks.” Wilma blushed to the tips of her ears, while Old Sabina Bandy rocked herself to and froand lau:hed heartily at the young folks’ confusion. “It is ploasant to know one’s friends think of them when absent,” said Baby Sam. * True, very true, my boy,” affirmed Benraymond; “but now, Sam, make yourself at home—just as ou would in the cabin of an old hunter friend, and on go and prepare you some breakfast. The rest of us have had our breakfast. I would not let them arouse you, for I knew you needed sleep as well as food.” “You are very kind, Mr, Benraymond, but do not put yourself to trouble for me,” said the boy. * All I ean do for you will be a rle .sure, Sam,” replied the man, and he retired to his kitchen apart- ment with a light step and happy heart, Bavy Sam now had an ee ey of looking around him. He found the cabin small yet a per- fect grotto of glittering minerals wrought into strange shapes by the hand of nature and arranged groups by Benraymond where the blending of colors rivaled the beauty of the rainbow. Quartz of agate, amethyst, flint, Jasper, malachite and carne- n were there; also, feldspar, opal, pumice, and volcanic glass that sparkled like cut diamonds—each and all the production of that wonderful valley. Even magnificent imens of petrified wood and imbedded animal life were displayed in t pro- fusion, and all this fine collection, in addition to a ile of books, magazines and even’ newspapers, told ip the strange man occupied, at least, part of his After Baby Sam had part hearty break- fast he sat down to discuss ae aa ers of the situa- tion with his genial host... He told him of his friends on shore who were no doubt sore over his prolonged absence, and the unknown fate of the ens, and ly he arose, saying: J FEN hae wera NS ASAD Ca Na eg a ek ae Yel Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the “T must go ashore, Mr. Benraymond, and find | shrill voice that sounded strangely familiar to Ben-- them, and not only tell them of the girl’ssafety, but warn them of the dangers that surround them.”’ “Give yourself no uneasiness about them. Sam, for I dispatched Sparrowhawk, my faithful friend and scout, asboreéarly this morning to find them and watch the foe.” “Indeed? You are very kind and thoughtful, Mr. Benraymond, and I sincerely hope—yea, I believe— that out of all this there is to come a reward that you are not dreaming of.” ‘*Sam, what do you mean?” asked the man, fixing his great soulful eyes upon tue boy with an almost prayerful look. “Oh, Lexpect I’ve sa‘d too much now,” replied the boy; ‘ but you’ll know all about it, Mr. Benray- mond, as soon as you see Kit Bandy, whom I left in the camp of my friends last night.” “What, the husband of this woman in the cabin?” “Yes, sir.’’ “Who and what is Kit Bandy, Sam?’’ ‘* A mountain detective.” ** And is he—”’ The man’s words were here cut short by the sud- den appearance of Sparrowhawk in the room in great excitement, and before he was searcely across the threshold he exclaimed: _‘*Pale-faces in danger!—big float come—heap Sioux-—heap outlaws—all come!”’ Rising they followed the Indian out of the cabin and down to the water’s edge, and from the cover of a fringe of willows they looked out over the lake and beheld the ng 2) of Sparrowhawk’s excitement, It was a large, ill-looking log-raft floating down straight toward the island. Nota sign of life was visible about it, but this was accounted for, when, with the aid of Benraymond’s glass, they saw that a breastwork of logs was laid up on the forward part of the raft, the rear being balanced with stones, Four Indian blankets were rigged as sails, and there being a fair breeze blowing seaward the murderous- looking raft moved at a fair speed. ‘By heavens!” cried Benraymond, “it is an ugly craft, and if enemies are aboard of her they mean to do us harm,” *“ They Sioux and white outlaws,” said Sparrow- hawk, as if touched by Benraymond’s remark ex- pressing a doubt as to the crew, * me on shore—see em git on float—dodge here, dodge there—git way round and hurry here tell you.” ‘That settles it then, and they mean to board us,” said Benraymond, “It looks that way, sir,” replied Baby Sam, “ and since I left my Winchester asho e last night, I hardly know what to do, If I had it here [’d throw afeeler down against that breastwork that would give them to understand we were ready for them.” ** Aside from the rifle and a pair of navy revolvers Thave no firearms,” said Benraymond, ‘and if the effect a landing, as they undoubtedly will, it wi surely go hard with us.” “Can't you put your island afloat and get away from them?” asked Sam. “*No, it would only flcat with the wind, and we would be overtaken, sure, and that, too, when out further from shore, Were we alone—had we not the lives of those women depending upon us, we could give the scoundrels battle. Or, if we had boats in which to flee, we might elude them that way. We could send the women afloat in the boat we have, but we have no assurance that such.a con- tingency has nct been guarded against by the foe, and that they would not be captured by enemies ly- ing in wait among the islands around us.” “Well, we'll have to do something, Mr, Benray- mond, and that pretty quick.” ““Thave a plan in any head, Sam, that I believe will work; at least, nothing can be lost in trying it. That is, to remove the women and such things as we can to the adjacent island under cover, and then when the foe bas Janded on this island, as they will have to before reaching the other, blow it up,” “A good idea, though a desperate one, if you’ve ae the stuff to blow it up with,” said the Boy tiant. “Thave a can of fisnt powder in my cabin that I brought with ma for mining purposes, but never used a grain ofit.” | “Great smoke! we’d hardly be safe on the other island, would we, to touch off a can of that pow- der?” ‘“We would bo apt less fecl the shock,” smile. “ Well, it’s a desperate case and requires desper- atetreatment. I'd rather be blown up by my own petard than cut down by asavage, But what we do, r, Benraymond, must be done at once.” ** Yes, yes, let us be at work,” said Benraymond. The two turned and walked back to the cabin, Sparrowhawk having eppes away a few minutes aphheen They found Wilma and Sarah alone in he room, and upon inquiry learned that Mrs. Bandy ’ to hear the report and coubt- replied the man, with a grim had gone out some time previous. Her absence, at the time caused a little uneasiness, and Benraymond started out in search of her, At the door he was met by astranger, whose sudden appearance there scartled him How the man had orer reached the island without being seen by the watchful Sparrow- hawk was a mystery to the recluse. The ptaniier was a man of about forty years, rather small in stature, with a smooth, beardless face and a keen, bright eye. He was dressed ina closely fitting suit of blue jeans, cow-hide shoes and a earn ah head-cover that could be called neither hat nor cap. In his belt was a pair of small revolvers. | “Good-mornin’, sir,” said the stranger, ina sharp, ye > oo: peg i . \ i ° lowstone. ‘awhile ago as Sabina Bandy.” : ly Ps} " £3 i3 >= raymond, ‘ Sir,” replied Benraymond, rather abruptly, “a have not the pleasure of your a¢equaintance.” . The stranger broke intu a low, silent laugh. ‘*My name is Flea—Ichabod Flea, and I’m ther ard of Old Kit Bandy, Esquire, in the detective usiness.”’ ‘*But how did you get here?” ‘Came ina boat, of course; but, stranger, seein” you don't rveecognize me, I'll tell you who I am as there’s no need of .urther disguise. You knew me *Zounds!”’ eried Benraymond, “that is he 5 bn ridiculous! such a deception is impossible, sir “It might be in any one but Ichabod Flea,” the stranger went on; ‘and I'll admit it’s gitting th® business down fine for a man to go gallavantin around in female apparel, but you see we detectives have to resort to all kinds of trickery in order to trick the tricker, Moreover, you see l’ve the beard- less face—never a hair grew on it—and the voice full of feminine sweetness to play the wronged wife toa deemonstration and success which I've did for years off and on, Stranger, if you don’t b’lieve me,. can show See my female attire.” “Waugh!” suddenly exclaimed Sparrowhawk, gliding from the Lushes hard by. a savage grin on his dusky face, “he tell truth—me see him take off squaw dress—make bonnet all up into dot on he head—waugh! he heap much durn cheat—he fraud —he! he! he!” This evidence was enough for Benraymond, and despite the dangers that surrounded them the re-- cluse could not repress a smile at the Indian's: facetious remarks. “Well, Mr. Flea,” he said,‘ T'll have to accept, Span owhawk's evidence, but it doesn’t seem possi- ble that such deception could be practiced. But: why did you throw off your disguise?” “No paticular need of it ncw, and seeing you were likely to have some fighting to do, I want-d to: take a hand in it and didn’t want to take too much advantage of a female’s attire.” : “You confounded rascal!’ exclaimed the Boy Giant, coming from the cabin, he and the girls hav-- ing overheard the whole of the conversation be- tween Benraymond and Flea; “I’ve a notion to ehuck you into the lake. Such a monumental de- ceptio.! You played the wronged and heert-- broken wife so superbly that I shed tcars of pity for Ichabod Flea broke into a fit of hearty laughter, and but for the knowledge of appreaching danger,, all would have enjoyed the little detective’s quaint, | and humorous revelations, stories of himself and the character he assumed. By this time the raft of the enemy was not over eighty rods away, and so every moment now was: precious, Baby Sam and Denraymond did not make known to. their friends the details of their plans of defense, but they inspired the breasts of the maidens with the assurance of their ability to cope with t! e foe, Most of Benraymond’s effects were carried over to the south end of the fixed island, the removal. Bein made under cover of the floating island which stood between the other and the approaching raft. This done, the maidens were conducted to the same- nlace, and then, while Sparrowhawk and Ichabod lea kept watch upon the foe, Benraymond and the Boy Giant entered the cabin and closed the door be-: hind them. In the center «f the rocm they placed the can of giant powder and piled around it a heap of the re- cluse’s quartz collections, The muzzle of a pistol loaded only with powder was then inserted in the can and fastened there. To the trigger of the pistol. a long string was tied, the other end of which was carried to the door of the cabin, and substituted for the latch-string with which the door was opened. This done they left the cabin with door closed, about a foot of the fatal striz g hanging out. The one serviceable canoe on the island wes now taken around to the south side of the fixed island. with the understanding that, in case they failed in defeating the foe on the little floating island, Ben- raymond was to take the girls in the boat and flee, while aate, Sam, Ichabod Flea and 5 pene were to take to the water and swim fer life. By this time the enemv’s raft was not over a hun- dred yards away, and so Benraymond sent his three male friends to the fixed island while he remained. to watch the craft. He took up a position behind the cabin, and befofe the raft was within fifty yards: of the island, a voice on board called out; ‘Ho there, stranger!”’ Benraymond made n° revly, “Hullo there, stranrer!’’ again called the voice. ““What’s wanted?’ cuswered Benraymond, in a. clear, ringing \ oice. “Your unconditional surr’ nder,”’ was the reply. ‘ “Who are you that makes that demand?” asked’ Benraymond. “You'll find out to your bitter sorrow, Warren. Hanover, if you raise a hand against me or my ps I give you two minutes in which to surren- er, ‘ ' A grim smile passed over the face of Benray- moms, and he involuntarily grasped the sword athis: e. “You will have to take me dead if you take me,* he finally replied, then he turned, and, iy Ay i der cover of the cabin, hurried over and joi | Sam _ = a ert - oe uy ’ Again the voice on the raft shouted nine | that was not understood a $ Several moments of the deepest sil feo towed" pes lence now oes ors 34;% leat, % \ i 3 a 7 pe , , Babs Might age ie ey ares ~Z E ee Tey estas eae we ey 5
Page 14
i q es oe ———y Baby Sam, th the island, where they could command a partial view of the cabin and yet not be seen. Presently afigure was seen gliding emong the bushes on the floating island. Indian, who peered all around him and atthe cabin; then he turned and went back in the direction of the raft, and a few seconds later Scott Dresden, fo!- lowed by Donald Strahm, half a dozen outlaws and a dozen savages, filed around the cabin and stopped in front. of it. * Hullo, in there!’ Dresden demanded, but he re- ceived no answer, and with an oath he advanced cautiously, and rapped upon the door with the butt of his revolver. Baby Sam and Betiraymond involuntarily drew back and half crouched in the bushes, * By the etern:l!” they heard Dresden say, ‘'I don’t believe there’s a soul inside of this hut.”’ * Open the door and go in,’ commanded Donald Strabm, in an imperative tone; ‘‘ don’t you see the latch-string’s out?” “Down, Sam!’’ whispered Benraymond, excited- ly, andthe pext iestant they were lying flat upon their faces, for they knew the awful crisis was.com- ing. CHAPTER XIV. A TEARFUL EXPLOSION, Scareniy had:aby Sam and Penna ymons thrown themselves on the ground, when t very earth seemed to burst asunder and the heavens to fall witha rosr and crash that rivaled the. thunderbolts of Jove. The twomen were fairly stunned by the awful concussion, and for several moments lay as if dead, while dirt, boughs and de/ ris of every descrip- tion rained down tpon'ard around them, compleie- ly burying them under. Theshrubbe’y on the island bent to the earth as ifin the fury of a hurricane, and the ,island itself rocked as if by an earthquake. eee ee way from under the dirt and bushes, Baby Sam and the recluse found a gloom of sulphur- ous smoke hanging overand around them that wes almost impenetrable, and fairly suffocating with its stifling fumes. But a smart breeze fiually sweptit away, and the two exchanged glances, terror being depicted upon the face of Benraymond. * By the smoke of judgment! this is more than we fizured on,” said Baby Sam. ““My God, I should say it was!’ responded Ben- raymond. “Just look around us at the ruin and desolation.” Overhead the trees were torn and stripped of their foliage and the boughs broken and blackened. Not a single log of the recluse’s cabin, or the raft upon which the floating island had been constructed, was to be seen, and all that part of the island upon which they stood, from the northerly extremity to within ten feet of them, had been swept clean of vegetation, and even a partof the island itself was blown away. The lake still ran wild with angry waves that were black with dries. Not an outlaw or an Indian could be seen anywhere. The destruc- ticn of the foe seemed to have been terrible in its completeness. “Sam, my boy,’’ Benraymond finally went on, i f te been ten feet closer we’d have been » killed,’ ‘No doubt of it, sir,” replied the Boy Giant; ‘‘I thought once I was dead—bu’sted wide open; but I wonder how the girls stood the shock?—there goes Sparrowhawk and the litle detective— Say, this way, mehhow are the girls?” AN right ’» answered Ichabod Flea, while Spar- rowhawk, turning, glided back to tell the girls of Sam’s and Benraymond’s safety; ‘‘it made us all bounce, though, I tell you,” the detective continued; ‘I'd smile if we wer'n’t badly concussed. Great Jerusalem crickets! I thought the whole infernal regions had bu’sted. And 1 see’d red-skins and out- laws go straddling up into the clouds of heaven in every shape; and the way cabin, Jogs, trees, dirt, stones and water flew was a caution to the oldest igeyser.”’ ; * Well, I think that rids the eart’: of some of your ‘enemies, Mr. Benraymond,”’ said Baby Sam, **T hope so,”’ replied the recluse, ‘‘ for God knows T have suffered ‘enough at the hands of that man Fenwick, and now—” Further speech was here \cut short by a low, agonized groan issuing from the brush on the west side of the island. ‘By heavens! some oné of them is alive!” ex- claimed Flea, So ‘Let us see,” scid Benraymond, * for no creature, be it ev rso vile, if it is helpless, shail want for my help.” They searc “ed the undergrowth, ard true enough found the burned and blackened body of a man still living. His face was black as night, cut and bleed- ing. Most of his clothing was torn off of him, and as Baby Sam approached him and spoke, he lifted his face, and in agony shrieked out: **T am blind! blind!” i “Yes, you are badly hurt,” replied Sam, kindly. “Yes, and I pray you will shoot me! Tam dying of agony—I am blind—oh, quick! kill me!” and. he clutched wildly at space. ** By the kissin’ Judas!” exclaimed Ichabod Flea, aside to Benraymond, “that wretch is Donald Strahm!”’ “Ah!” exclaimed Benraymond, with a start, a strange lizht burning in his eyes. ‘then he has been spared to know that he is to die from his own sins!” He walked closer and looked down into the face but there was little therein the black and disfigured ‘countenance resemb!l the vnce and haughty Donald Strain is ay 2 f _ ‘The Boy Giant and Benraymond stood ina clump of bushes near the center 0 lt was that of an | | “No, no,” replied. Baby- Sam to the man’s be ape to be killed and his misery ended, ‘I never strike an enemy when be ‘is down. Ill help. you through |; though—do what I can to alleviate your suffering.” ‘Then give me your revolver—vvu/” shrieked the man. **No, I cannot do that.” ** Who are you? .. I’m blind—I can’t see!” ‘*T'’m: Baby Sam.” ** Baby Sam.”’ ‘**Baby Sam! Then why don’t you end my suf- fering? You're as heartless with me as I was with you. Is there no one by who Will kill me? Where is Warren Hanover? He will kill me—tell me, Baby Sam, where is Warren Hanoyer?”? ‘Tam here, Norton Fenwick,” replicd the recluse. “Ha! that old voice! exclaimed the wounded man; * that is his—the man Ihave pursued War- ren. Ido not-_ask your mercy—I cannot—kill me— kill me!” ‘*No, I will not, Fenwick; I will help.to care for you —nurse :you. back to healthand stréngth,’’ re- plied Benraymond. _. The wounded man groaned in his agony, then, as if suddenly becoming delirious, he called out: ‘Dresden! Dresden! where are you” ** He’s dead, Fenwick,’’ said Baby Sam, “Dead? What killed him? What happened? What crushed my body so and blinded me?” the ‘man asked. Benraymond ,dispateched Sparrowhawk for a blanket, upon which the wounded man was placed and carried to the interior of the grove. Then, de- apie his protestations. and his bepeing to be let alone to die, water was brought and his body washed and bathed and his wounds bandaged, After this treatment he became easier, and his groans and cries finally ceased, though his suffering was intense. ; eappoay Flea finally took Baby Sam aside and said o him: “Sam, that man’s bound to die, and we ought to have a confession, from him before he goes of. And by ail means Kit Bandy should be here.” “T can bring him here, I think, in a few hours,” replied the Boy Giant. “I left him in camp not over fouror five miles from here yesterday evening, and will start at once.” “ All right, I will stay by Strahm, and when he he- comes eagior will endeavor to draw him out,” said the detective. Baby Sam told the rest of his friends of his inten- tions of going ashore, and, having borrowed Ben- parmands revolvers 2nd canoe, he tock his d’ par- ure. Wilma cnd Sarah stood by the shore and watched pins as he glided over the now tranquil waters of the ake, Benraymond and Ichabod Flea watched by the side of the suffering Strahm. The former looked upon him in his blindness and misery with a stern look of mingled pity and disdain, but Flea kept up a sort of random conversation, An hour nearly bad _ passed since Baby Sam’s de- parture, when suddenly a scream was heard at the lower end of theisland. It came from the lips of one of the girls, and, hurrying down to where they stood, Wilma pointed out over the lake excitedly, saying: 4 2 Oh, Mr. Benraymond! Jook, the Indians are after am Looking in the direction indicated, Benraymond saw two canoes filled with savages in swift pursuit of the Boy Giant. They had put outfrom a couple of small islands, between which the young mount- aineer had passed, and, as the savages were between the boy and_his frien s, there was no réfurning to the island. THis only show lay in outdistancing the foe and reaching the shore, but from where his friends stood it looked as though his pursuers were close upen him. “The red devils,” said Flea, ** were concealed there to cut off the retreat of the folks from the island, here, in ease they fled from the approach of the raft. But the raft, oh, where is it?” “Mr, Benraymond, do you think they will catch Sam?’ asked Wilma, with tremulous lips. ‘*My child, T.eannot say—I hope not.’ * Theyll have a lively time if they do, and don’t you neglect it,” put in Flea; “I tell you that boy’s made of the best mettle.” The distance between Baby Sam and the foe, how- ever, was greater than it appeared'to thore on the island, and was momentarily being widened. The Indian’s ¢2noes were loaded to their utmost capac- ity, and despite the fact of there being two paddles to each, the Boy Giant soon found that he had little to fear, for the time being, from his savage pur- suers, And when he found he was safe €nough, he took a kind of defiant delight in letting them gain upon him a little, then pulling out sagas. this way the chase continued for fully two miles, and as the shore of the mainland was now but a mile away, the fearless young mountaineer bent to his work and finally reached it balf a mile in advance of the savages. Dragging his canoe onto the beach he turned and glided into the woods which, at this point, were quite dense, Not far from the shore he stopped, and. reaching into a hol- low tree, drew therefrom his rifle and cartridge-belt that he had left there the night berone when he swam to the reseue of Sabina Bandy ard Sarah rshall. ‘Now, then,”’ the fearless young giant mused, “I'm at home, and woe to them red-skins.”’ He advaneed to the edge of the woods, and measuring the distance to the foremost savage canoe, adjusted the eg and then resting the wea- pon ms yes the side of a tree, took aim and fired, .. The ball cut the water just in front of the boat. e Boy Giant of the Yellowstone. | } ——— a es ee ee ‘A little short,’ the ycuth mused, ‘*‘ but I'll be about right now,” and again he brought the weapon to bear on the foe. x This time the deadly bullet went home, and a sav- age sunk lifeless inthe boat. But before:his friends could searcely realize the terrible fact, for they were still four hundred yards from the shore,and a shot at that distance seemed a miracle, they ‘saw dnothrr puff of smoke on shore, they beard the ‘“spat’? of a bullet, end another friend fell lifeless. * Oh, you red fools!” exclaimed the young sbharp- shooter to himself, *‘{candothat ailiday. I’ve got the range now.” The two canoés‘ran alongside each other and came toastand. Their cccupants seemed to enter into a council, and while this wes going on Faby Sam sent another ounce-ball of lead on its deadly mission, and: as be'saw a paddle in the bands of a red-skin thrown into the air, he- burst into a peal of silent laughter. . “By smoke! I never had so much fun ip my life,” he soliloquized, ‘and T’d give afish-hook if Old Kit Bandy was here to see how I slap—” “By the horn of Joshua! Tam here,”s id a voice stepping from the opposite side of the tree and turning, Baby Sam found his wish fully gratified, for Kit Bandy stood before him. * Where did you come from, Kit?” the boy asked apparently a little peiplexed at being overhea thinking aloud. * From right around that tree. I see’d you land, boy, get your gun, send a ranger over the water, then popit'o them. You're a daisy, boy, on the shoot—nighly a8 good as lused to’ be when my eye- sight reached out like yours. But say, boy, where you bin?” Keen Baby Sam told him in-a few brief words. “Krow anything of the de yet?” ‘* Both are safe on the island with Benraymond.” ‘*Gal-ory |’ shouted ‘the old detective; ‘* did ‘you rescus ‘em, boy?” “T helped.” “Say, do you know what it Was that bu’sted over on the lake about eleven ‘o'clock to-day? ‘“it was Benraymond blowing up his floating island with Scott Dresden, Donald Strahm and their min- jons aboard of it.” “You don’t tell me!” “Yes, and every mother’s'son of them was blown out of existence except Donald Strvahm, and he lays blind, bleeding and dying on the island. Ichabod Flea sent me over here after you.” “Tchabod Flea? Then he’s got around, eh?" and Bandy’s eyes sparkled; **bui' say, do you know any- thing of my e, Sabina?” ; “Oh, get out, you old scoundrel!” said Baby Sam, witha laugh; “‘youand your old woman are frauds. That won’t work any longer, Kit; Sebina gave the thing away.”’ . “Hal ha! ha!’ ro#red Old Kit; ‘“*heydoogins ‘of times have we fooled the sharpest o' folks that way. And so the gals are safe, and Dresden’s dead, and Strahm’s dying? Well, well, I'told the boys to-day when I heard a roarin’ in my left ear that I war goin’ to hear some good news—it’s a sigh that never fails, boy, only when it mists. Butéay, them Ingins are comin’ this way again. Excuse me for distarbin’ your matinee.’ A few more well-directed shots sent the surviving savages back into the lake, when Old Kit Bandy said; “Tl run to camp, Sammy, tell the folks where I’m going and the good news from over the water, Til be back in an hour.” — So saying, the old detective took his departure, and Baby Sam remain: d to guard his canoe. Meanwhile night was approaching, and those on the island were passing the moments in doubt and uncertainty. Wilma paced the shore of the lake. éver watching out over the water through her tears forthe coming of her boy lover—praying for his safety and safe re- turn to her, About sunset she was joined by Mr. Benraymond who, after he had spoken some kind words of encouragement to her, said: “Wilma, I hope Be will pardon me for introduc- ing the subject when you are feeling so bad, but I have just been talking with Detective Plea, and from him have I learned that this man, Strabm, tow lying on this isle, has been endeavoring to kidnap you, and for that purpose came into this valley.” “Why me. any more than Sarah, Mr. Benray- mond?” the maiden asked. : ‘““You seem to be in his way more particularly than Sarah.” . “What? Iin Donald Strahm’‘s way?” 1 “Yes; Lsee ou ave ignorant of your past life, chiid—your birth.” Wilma started and turned ‘pale. Looking up into Benraymond’s face she replied: : “Mr. Benraymond, there is nothing Jin my past life that Iam ashamed of, and while I— The dip of a paddle fell upon her ears, and turn- ing her head she saw a canoe with four occupants ieee over the water through the gathering twi- t The two Lstened. They could hear voices, and suddenly Wilma exclaimed: “Oh Yan hear the voice of Sam!” “Halt!” who comes there?” the piping voice of Ichabod Flea suddenly called out. “Oh, git'away dover there with your racket, Ich- abod Flea, or, by the horn of Joshua, I'll salt you!” was the reply that came from the boat. ‘Old Kit, by Jeerusalem crickets!" declared the little detective. The next minute the boat landed, and Baby Sam, Kit Bandy, Henry Rodman and Old S Joe te 1d upon the island amid glad shouts and cries of joy. xt 4 ha i # J & Se { t oe" 5
Page 15
» tt. to some remote Indian CHAPTER XV, DONALD STRAHM’S CONFESSION, For several moments there was general rejoicing on the island, and no one was happier than Wilma when she saw her father and lover before her alive and well; aud Sarah Marshall seemed to share her joy with her, though there was one whose presence would have filled her young breast with supreme happiness, and that was Frank Rodman, who had remained asnore with Professor. Drood, for the canoe would not carry them all. Bandy and Rodman were introd -ced'to Benray- mond, the latter and Spokane Joe having met before, as the reader will wcll remember. “They tell me,’ said Old Kit to Benraymond, “that you've been blowing up a lot of ouclaws and red-skins to-day.” “Yes, we had to upon the principle that self- preservat'on is the first law of nature.” ‘*A good law, a good law, sir,” said the old detec- | tive, ‘‘ but is that man Strahm still living?” ‘* He’s barely alive.” ** is be conscious?” “Yes; I will take you in where he liés,”” Bandy fcllowed the man into the grove where Strahm lay upon a blanket, breathing heavily. “Fenwick,” said Benraymond, ‘here is a man who wants to see you. He just arrived,” “Who is it?”’ asked the wounded man. “ Kit Bandy.” “Ah!” Strahm exclaimed. with a start, ‘Kit Bandy, the detective— Big Horn, the renegade. You layed your cards well, Bandy, but death ‘11 soon et me out,I hope. But what do you. want to see me about, Bandy?’ “I’ve a warrant for your arrest.” * A warrant for me? for what?” ** attempted murder.” “Attempted murder? of whom?’ the miserable wretch gasped. “Mrs. Ann Kirby.” ‘*My God! is she not dead?” : be No, your bullet failed to do its work, and ‘she ives.’ ** Where is she now?” *¢ At Denver.” “Tam glad to hear it—hear that she lives. I con- fess that Lattempted to kill her, and the deed hag haunted me more than all the rest of my sins.” * Then your sins are many?” observed Bandy. ‘* Most of my life has been one of constant wrong, - and all have been directed against Warren Hano- ver.” * Otherwise Aaron Benraymond,” added Kit. ep © Kidd ; Benraymond bit his lip and his brows contracted, but be said never a word, ‘*\Vhat reason had you for sinning against Han- over?” the old detective questioned. “He took from me @ woman I loved—that would have made me wealthy and independent and yy sae “You loved her more for her wealth than aught else, didn’t you?” * Perhaps I did, but, be that as it may, I lost her, and now ave lost all—even my own life is soon to “What are you in this coun for, when your homeis.in England?” crea ? oe syvas here in search of Warren Hanover’s ehild. ‘** Do you know how that child eame here?” “Yes, yes, I know all, Bandy, and I know what you seek to know. Ihave no objection to tell you all, for [fear no punishment on earth, and if what I may confess will lead to the happiness of those I have wronged, my punishment in the great here- after fans be somewhat less. Give me a sup of water, will you?” His request was granted, then Old«Spokane Joe and Henry Rodman were sent for to hear the man’s confession. ‘-In the first place,” began Donald Strabm, or, more properly, Norton Fenwick, “after the death of Hanover’'s wife, her child stood between me and the fortune to which I’d been -heir had Constance Han- oyer, who was my cousin, died childless. To get that child out of my way was the work I had before me, and when Warren went abroad to travel, I per- suaded Mrs. Ann Kirby, who had charge cf the child, to come to America,\A few months after- ward I came over also, and g@jnz to her, demanded the child and got it, telling he#I was going to return to England with it. Butinstead of coing so 1 took the child West a long ways and left it with a setrler and his wife, and—’ “ What war the settler’s name?’ interposed Old it. “Jack Prunty. Well, it seems Mrs, Kirby miis- trusted me, and, disguised in male attire, followed me to Omaha, where we both took rooms, In the morning she called me into her room and upbraided me for what 1’d done, when I drew my revolver and shot her, left the weapon at her side and wi nt back tomy own room unobserved, but ina few minutes after tock my departure East. The nextday I read of the suicide of a stranger n: med Bateés—the name under which she registered—at the Cozzens House in Omaha, and went on my way rejoicing. At that time I had a friend living in the West who'd been ee a chum in England, but having killed a uarrel esca to America and assumed the name of Scott Drestien. Beinga wild. pm fellow, he soon became associated with bad men and not only became an outlaw but en outlaw lead- er. Imet bim by appointment at Omaha. To him I confided the secret of the child and ey him to steal itaway from and destroy, tor carry : e lage so that it would be lost sight of entirely, But before he could accom- Baby Sam ee ee eee EE Eee . ? plish this Jack Prunty had pulled up stakes and with others started on further west. Determined to carry out his promise, Scott led a band of In- cians and outlaws down upon the emigrant train, determined to killand capture all. *Most all were killed, and among the number’were several small children, and Scott never dreamed but that Prunty and the child had fallen. I. happened, however, that several years went by before the fortune for which I was planning went into the hands of the court to be settled on the next nearest of kin, I had not a doubt but that it would be turmed over to m+, but. to my surprise some one, filed a caveat ask- ing tae court to withhold a settlement of the estate eon me, for the reason that he believed the child cf Constance Hanover was Still living in Am rica, and could be produced. The decision of tie court was that five years would be given to hunt wp the child of Constance Hanover, and if she could not be found in that time, the presumption of the court would be that she—the child—was dead, “*T could not imagine how such an impression got out unless Scott Dresden had played a double game, and as my fortune depended on the coild Trene never being found,I started at once for America and found Scott in §.tting Bull’scamp. I told him of tne impression that the child was still alive, He told me then that a Mrs, Phebe Conners, who'd been taken captive ct the time of the massacre, had told him thatit was her belief that Jack Prunty and the child did escape on horseback, but that he did not believe her story, I made Hp my mind then that it was through that same Phebe Conners that the idea got out of the child being alive, and I presume now Mrs, Kirby must have met her also,"’ “That's it, exactly, said OldfKit; “but pardon my interruption.” ‘Having some four years yet to wait before 1 could inherit the fortune, I resolved to putin the time bunting for the child, I did not expect to know her, for. she wes, if living, some fourteen years of age. But I hoped to Jearn through the settlers enough of her to make her identity certain. Scott Dresden volunteered to assist me, atid for three years we have been at work searching among the settlements of the West, and about thres months ago I was in the Gallatin valley and there met a young girl whom I knew at sight must be Irene Han- over from her wonderful resemblance to her dead mother. I felt so well satisfied of this that I began to lay plans to get her into my power. I kept a spy in thesettiement all the while, and through him T learned of the proposed tour of four young people under Baby Sam through the Yellowsione Park. learned all the details of their trip even to their visit to Mary’s Lake, and it was there that I had ar- ra\ ged to get the girlinto my power, and succeeded but was afterward thwarted through you, Kit Ban- dy, and the Boy Giant.” “Phen that girl is Wilma Rodman,” said the de- tective. “Yes,” answered Fenwick, _ “The jig’s up with us, Henry,” said Old Spokane, in a whi-per to Rodman, “Go on, Fenwick,” said Kit, “Well. we,’ the man continued, ‘‘that is, Dres- den’s followers and a number of Indians, encamped over in the hills, and during a ramble one day I stumbled into the camp of one Professor Drood, and there I met, to my astonishment, Jack Prunty going under the name of Spokane Joe, I did pot appear to reeognize him, nor did he recognize me, but we met ggain that sara and then I made myself known and demanded of him the whereabouts cf the child. He refused to tell. I called my friends, de- termined to take lim a prisoner and extort from him the truth, ror, I was more certain now than ever that Wilma dman was the girl Irene. tthe man resisted and a fight ensued, and just as he was overpowered a stranger came to his reg- cue sword in hand and we were forced to flee: with- out the hunter. That stranger, I recognized as the object of my vengeance, Warren Hanover,” * And tha.’s you, Aaron Benraymond,” said Kit. Benraymond nodded his head. “Then he is Wilma’s father, Henry,” again whis- pered Spokane. : “ And Wilma Rodman then is your child!” theold detective again observed. bh “She must be! she must bo!” the recluse replied with the greatest emotion; I have thought 80, ever since | met her. ‘ar ** How is it, Spokane Joe? it’s your time. to speak now,” said Bancy. ; “Wal, there's no dodgin’ the question, though to lose the gal from the Gallatin,” replied Ola Spokane. with a sadness in his voice, “will be to take all the sunshine outen my heart—outen the heart of Henry Rodman—outen all our hearts, Wilma Rod- man is the gal that that man left with me and my wife, and I'm Jack Prunty. After the massacre where my wife war killed and from which I escaped as Mrs. Conners predicted, 1 war left in an awful shape with the little gal baby on my hands; but I could no more think o’ givin’ her away to some one and goin’ off where I couldn't se- her, than I could think of flyin’. So I_iook her to the Gallatin and placed her in eare of Henry Rode man and his good wife, I did not like the looks of the man that first left her. with us, and after Td learned to love her as I loved my own soul, it war arranged that she be called Wilma Rodman, and as IT war not known in the Gallatin valley, I give m own name as Spoka‘e Joe, the hunter, I did this so’s the man could never us out by our names, While Mr. Rodman has raised her to a lovely young lady, I have always remained near where I could see her, and look upon her as my child.’’ . ‘** Just so,’ said Old Kit, rubbing his hands in a de- lighted manner, “ this Jets you out, Spokane; now,, a i ——eeeEeEEEeEeEeeE—————E—eeEeEeEeeeeeeee admiring gaze, his the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone. ; 15 . Mr. Rodman, what have you to offer on the sub- ject?’ “‘ Nothing more, Kit, than to say that what Spokane has told you is true,” the settler answered, _ ‘* Well, the case is a pretty clear one now,”’ the old detective said, “but does Wilma know the facts connected with her eventful life?” “ Yes,” answered Rodman, ‘‘ ail except. the mys- tery of ber birth and babyhood previous to the day she was leftat Jack Prunty’s, which was unknown to all of us up to this hour.” ‘* Well, the ends of justice have been ferved all around, and lll get several thousand pounds ster: ling out of the job,” said Old Kit, * but I wonder Low. that poor little gal will take the news?” “She will receive it,’? said Henry Rodman. * with a feeling of joy and relief, for the Sey trouble that has ever weighed upon her mind of late years was through a kind of presentiment that she was the child of a villain—ay, a murderer, Mr. Benraymond —Warren Hanover, I congratulate sae sir, upon being the father of so bright ard lovely a daughter. But as Old Spokane has said, to take her away from among us will be to throw a shadow over our hearts—over all the settlement—that will remain so jong as memory lasts.” ’ *T thank you, Ro man,”. replied Benraymond, ‘*for the compliment you pay me; and while it is true that | have lived, for seventeen years, the sad- dest and loneliest of lives—ever thinking of my dead wife and lost child. I will not make Wilma unhappy by taking her away from her lifelong friends. Yea, if you think best, my friends, she ne: d never know that I. am: her father, and I will go my way and bear my burden until life has ended with patience and fortitude.” ‘ ‘*Benraymond,” said Rodmen, half-choked with emotion, ‘there is no nie: d of your suffering longer. For your child to know you cin but make her happy, and you happy, and God lnows a!) the rest of us will be happy.’ “Then Wilma x/:allbe mcde ay at evry Wish gatifi ad!” said the great-hearted man. Leaving Ichabod Mea to watch by the side cf Donald Strahm, the four men proceeded to where Baby Sam and the maidens were seated. ‘\ Wilma,” said Mr, Rodman. ‘“‘Yes, father,” and the girl arose and came up to where he stood. “My ehild,”’ the settler wenton, “ you remember what Spokane and I have told ais ‘ef your past Jife? of your being Jeft when a little babe With Jack Prunty and his wife?” r ‘*To Le sure,. father, I remember i*,’ Wilma. “That dying man has made a revelation.” ‘*What, father? what was it?’ the maidon ex- claimed, ‘half in dread of something terrible. ‘* He is the man, 80 he and Spokane both say, that left you with Prunty and his wife.” r What! that man my father?” the girl shrielzed, starting back with a look ot distress upon ler face. ‘*No, Wilma,” replied Rodman, “le is not yeur father, thank God, but this noble-looking man, Aaron Renraymond, or rathér Warren Tlanover, i: your father.” Warren Hanover stood with his arms folded across his breast, his eyes fixed upon Wilnta with a fond ‘reat heart beating rps Wilma utt red alittle cry and glanced wildly from mane Rodman to Hanover, and then as her eyes met those of the recluse fixed upon her she gave a wild glad ery, and running to Hanover threw her arms about his neck ard burst into tears. ‘My father! my father!” she eried; ‘‘God has heard my prayers! Oh, my dear, strange father! I prayed that you might prove io be my father, when lay helpless in your eabin!” ‘““And my dcar girl, when I first looked upon your sweet face, the very image of your dead mother’s, my yearning, hungcring heart told me you were my child!” replied the happy father. The reunion of father and daughter wes a mostaf- eco ae every witness of the event being moved to tears. “Say, folks,” and Tehabod Flea suddenly appear- ed from the grove, ‘by the Jerusalem crickets! Norton Penwick’s deader’n the mother 0’ Adam!” “You don’t say so?” exclaimed Old Kit, *“T do—be went-off as easy as a turtle off a log.” “May the Lord have mercy on bis soul,” said Warren Hanover, serious) . “God's will be done,” added Henry Rodman, rep icd A week has passed, end we find those whom we have followed through the perils avd wonders of Wonderland safely at home in the Gallatin valley. W arren Hanover became the guest of Henry Rod- man, While Old Kit Bandy and Ichabod Flea pushed on to Denver to report the success of their long hunt to Matthew Hoopel and Mrs, Meges. Hanover was not long in deciding his future course, and that was to remain im the Gallatin val- ley—not only as a matter of choice, but that his daughter might be near those with whom she had grown to womanhood, and those whom she loved. He, however, mede a@ trip to England, accompanied by Wilma, and her old nurse. Mrs. Ann Kirby; but as soon as Wilma’s right had been established to her inheritance, all returned and took up their abode in the lovely valley where they are living in the enjoy- ment of a peaceful and ha ps 5g : Baby Sam will probably always be known by that name among those who have known him from boy- hood; but, be that as it may, there will never be a braver, nobler youth in ali the land—none more worthy of a beautiful woman’s love than he of Wil- ma’s. j TH END. ry
Page 16
ul 1 aT ] C 1 7 .181 The Golden Hand. cite T1 Delaware Dicky, the Young Ranger Spy. ’ T2 Mad Tom W extern, the Texan Ranger. Hy W.J. Hamilton. 7B Deadwood Dick on Deck. By Edward L. Wheeler. 74 Wawk-eye Marry. By Ol) Coomes. 75 The Boy Duelist. By Colonel Prentiss Ing-wham, 76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. By Albert W, Aiken, $7 Corduroy Ohsrife, the Boy Bravo. By E. L, Wheeler, 78 Blue Dick. By Captain Mayne Reid. 79 Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. By Albert W. Aiken. 80 Koxebud Rob. By Edward L. Wheeler. 81 Lightning Jo, By Captain J. F. C. Adums, 82 Kit Marefovt the Wood-Hawk. By T. C. Harbaugh, 88 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. By Ol]! Coomes. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner, By Edwsrd L. Wheeler. 85 Buck Bauckram, By Captsin J, F.C. Adams. &6 Dandy Rock, the Man from Texas. By G. Waldo Brown. 87 The Land Pirates, By Captaiu Mayne Reid. 88 Photograph Phil, the Boy Sleuth. By E. L, Wheeler, 89 Ieland Jim. By the author of “ Jack Harkaway.” 90 ‘the Dread Rider. By George Waldo Browne. 91 The Captain of the Club. By Bracebridge Hemyng. P2 Canada Chet, the Counterfeiter Chief. By E. L. Wheeler, 98 The Boy Minera. By EdwardS. Ellis. 94 Midnight « ack, the Road-Agent. By T.C, Harbaugh, 95 The Rival Rovers, By Lieut. Col, Hazeltine, 96 Watch-Eye, the Shadow, By Edward L. Wheeler, 97 The Outiaw Brothers, By John J, Marshall. 98 Robin Iood, the Outlawed Earl. By Prof. Gildersleeve, 99 The Tiger of Taos, By Georve Waldo Browne. 100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville. By E. L. Wheeler. 101 Jack Narkaway in New York, Bracebridge Hemyng. 102 Dick Dead-Eye. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 108 The Lion of the Sca, By Colonel Delle Sara. 104 Deadwood Dick’s Device. By Edward L. Wheeler, 105 Old Rube, the Hunter. By Captain H. Holmes. 106 Oid Frosty, the Guide. By T. ©. Harbaugh. 107 @ne-Eyed Sim. By James L. Bowen, 108 During Davy, the Young Bear-Killer, By H. St, George, 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. By E. L. Wheeler, 110 The Black Steed of the Prairles, By J. L, Bowen, 11 The Sea-Devil. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 12 The Mad Hunter. By Burton Saxe Jack Moyle the Young Speculator, By E. L, Wheeler. The Biack Schooner. By Roger Starbuck. he Mad Miner. By George Waldo Browne, he Hussar Captain. By Col. Prentiss l.graham. flt-Edged Dick. By Edward L. Wheeler. Will Somers t-e Bo: D tective. By Charles Morris. Muatang Sam 3 or, The King of the Plains, By J, E. Badger. “he Branded Mand, By Frank Dumont, Mnnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. By E, L. Wheeler. *hil Hardy, the Boss Boy, By Charles Morris, 28 Kiowa Charley, the White Mustanger. By T.C,. Harbaugh, 24 Tippy, the Texan, By George Gleasen. 25 Bonanza Bill, Miner. By Edward L. Wheeler. 126 Picayune l’ete. By Charles Morris, 127 Wild-Fire, the Boss of the Road. By Frank Dumont 128 The Young Privateer. By H. Cavendish. 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double. By Edward L. Wheeler. 180 Detective Dick. By Charles Morris. By George Waldo Browne, 82 The lNunted Munter. By Edward S, Ellie. 8 Rosa Hob the King of the Bootblacks, By E.L, Wheeler, 4 Sure Shot Seth, By 0!) Coumes. 5 Captain Paul. By C. Dunning Clark, 6 Night-Wawk Kit. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 7 The Helpless Hand. By papeein Mayne Reld. 8 Blonde Bill, By Edward L. Wheeler, 9 Judge Lynch Jr._ By T. C. Harbaugh. 0 Blue Blazes, By Frenk Dumont. 1 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 2 Wandeome Marry. Py Charles Morris. 8 Secar-Face Saul. By O!l Coomes. 44 Dainty Lance, the wy ace By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 45 Oaptuin Ferret, the New York Detective. By Wheeler. 6 Silver Star, the Boy Knight, By Oll Ceomes, Z WI Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. By Charles Morris. Sharp Sam — By J. Alexander Patten. A Game of Gold. By Edward L. Wheeler. Lance and Laxso, By Captain Frederick Whittaker. Panther Paul, the Prairie Pirate. By Jos. E. Badger, Js Black Besa, Will Wildfre’s Racer. By Charles Morris, Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. By Ol Coomes. The Sword Wunters, By Capt. Frederick Whittaker, Gold Trigger, the Sport. By T. C. Harbaugh. Deadwood Dick of Deadwood, By E. L. Wheeler. Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. “By Charles Morris, Faney Frank of Colorado. By Butfalo Bill. The Lost Captain, By Captain Frederick Whittaker, The Black Giant. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. New York Nell. By Edward L, Whe« ler, Will Wildfire in the Woods, By Charles Morris. Little Texas, the Young Mustanger. By Ol] Coomes, By Oll Coomes. 244 wa =S SEIS = RO OS te nee ek et et et —* Mek ek ee atte eet nat tk E tebol bedebebubabad od et ee ee ARAVAMAAAAT eee VPRO SCONAMRKOKSSL Dandy Rock’s Pledge. By George Waldo Browne. Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy. By Charles Morris, Wieckory Marry. By Harry St, George. NAD Ana Scott, the Steambont Boy. By Edward Willett. Dendly Dashy By Joseph E- Badger, Jr, Tornado Tom. By T. C. Harbaugh. A Trump Card, _Bv Charles Morris. Ebony Dan. By Frank Do inont. Thunderbolt Tom. By Harry St. George. Dandy Rock’s Rival. By George Waldo Browne, Rob Rockett, the Boy Dodger. By Charles Morris. Captain Arizona. By Philip S. Warne. The Boy Runaway. — By Lieutenant H. D Perry, U.S,N. Nobby Nick of Nevada, By Edward L. Wheeler. O11 Solitary, the Herinit Trapper. By Ol) Coomes. Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner, By Charles Morris, The Sen Trailer. By Lieutenant H. D. Perry, U.S.N. Wild Frank of Montana. By Edward L. Wheeler. Little Hurricane, the Boy Captuin, By Oll Coomes, The Widden Wand, By Charles Morris. 4 The Soy Trailers. By Joseph E, Badger, Jr. Evil Eye, King of the Cattle Thieves. By Frank Dumont, Cool Deamond, By Colonel! Delle Sara. Fred Halyard, the Life Boat Boy, By Charles Morris, 88 Ned Temple, the Border Boy. By T, C. Harbangh. 189 Bob Rockett, the Cracksman, By Charles Morris. 190 Dandy Darke. By William R. Evster. 191 Buffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. Be Capt. A. B. Taylor, 192 Captain Kit, the WI! my si By Lieut. Perry. 198 The Lady Road-Agent. By Philip S. Warne. 194 Ruffalo Bill’s Bet. By Captain Taylor. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Drenm. By Edward L, Wheeler. 196 Shadowed. By Charl+s Morris. 197 Little Grit, the Wild Rider, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 198 Arkansaw, th» Man with the Knife. By T. C. Harbaugh. 199 Featherweight. By Edward Willett. 800 The Roy Bedoutna. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker, 201 The Black Hills Jezebel. By Edward L. Wheeler. 202 Proavect Pete, of tne Boy Brignde, By Ol] Coomes. 208 The Boy Pards. By Joseph K. Badger, Jr. 204 Gold Plume, the Boy Bandit. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom, By Edward L. Wheeler, 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. By Charles Morris, 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. By T. C. Harbaugh, 268 The oy HMercules, By Ol] Coomes. 999 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler, w10 Faro Frank of High Pine, By William R. Eyster. 211 Crooked Cale, By Josevh E. Badger, Jr. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Petective, By Charles Morris, 218 Fritz, to the Front. By Edward L. Wheeler. 214 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. _ By Capt. Whittaker. 5 Captain Rutlet, the Raider King. By T. C. Harbaugh. & Bison Will, the Prince of the Reins. By Col. P. Ingraham, 7 Captain Crack-Shot, By Edward L.. Wheeler. 218 Tiger Tom, the Texan Terror. | By Oll Coomes, PPRMBPWBFT Peles IVI INNARSAAD POOH SSCDNARRKOHK SoD Pk pt php ph Ph fh ph ph ph hhh hh hl AAR wee —_ ie 219 Deapnard, the Duelist, By Philip S. Warne. 220 Tom Tanner, Scalawaz avd Scapegrace. By Chas. Morris, 221 Sugar-Coated Sam. By Edward L. Wheeler, 222 Grit, the Bravo Sport. By Col Prentiss Ingraham, 228 Ozark Alf, King of the Mountain. By Edward Willett. 224 Dashing Dick. By O11 Co mes. 25 Sam Charcoal, the Premium Darky. By Charles Morris, 226 Sneozer, the Boy Sharp. By Edward L. Wheeler. 227 Dusky Durrell, Trapper. By E. Emerson. 228 Little Wildfire. By Oll Coomes, 229 Crimson Kate. 8y Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 230 The Yankee stainh, By C. Dunning Clark. Plueky Phil, of the Mountain Troil. By T. C. Harbaugh, 282 Gold-Duat Dick. By Edward L. Wheeler. 288 Joe Buck of Angela, By Albert W. Aiken. 254 Old Rocky’s ** Boyees,” By Buckskin Sam. 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy, By Charles Morris, 286 Apollo Ifill. By Edward L. Wheeler, 237 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain, By Col. Ingraham. 258 The Parson Detective. By Oll Coomes. 2839 The Gold-seeker Guide, By Captain Mayne Reid, 240 Cyclone Kit. By Edward |. Wheeler, 241 Bill Bravo and His Bear Pards. By T. C. Harbaugh. 242 The Two * Bloods.” By Charles Morris, 248 The Disguised Guide. By Ol] Coomes, 244 Slerra Sam. By Edward L. Wheeler. 245 Merle, the Middy. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham 246 Giant George. By Buckskin Sam. 247 Old Grizzly and His Pets. By Capt. Bruin’? Adams, 248 Sierra Sam’s Sceret. By Edward L. Wheeler. 249 Milo Romer, tle Animal King. By Capt. Fred, Whittaker, 250 The Mtdahipman Mutineer. By Col, P. Ingraham, 251 Light-house Lige. By « aptain J. F.C, Adama, 252 Dick Dashaway. By Charles Morris. 258 Sierra Sain’s Pard. By Edwurd L. Wheeler, 254 The Half-Blood, By Edward S. Ellis, 255 Captain Apoll :. xi T. C. Harbauvh, 256 Young Kentuck. By Captain Mark Wilton, 257 The Lost Hunters, By Capt. J. F.C. Adams, 258 Sierra Sam’s Seven, By Edward L, Wheeler, 259 The Golden Harpoon, By Roger Starvuck. 260 Dare-Devil Dan. By Ol] Coomes. 261 Fergus Fearnaught, By George L. Aiken, 262 The Young Sleuths, By Charles Morns. 263 Deadwood Dick’s Divide. By Edward L. Wheeler. 264 The Floating Feather. By Col. P, Ingraham, 265 The Tiger Tamer. By C ptain Fred, Whittaker. 2¢6 Killb’ar, the Guide. By “nsign Warren. 267 The Buckakin Detective By _T. C. Harbangh, 268 Deadwood Dick’s Denth 'srall. By E. L. Wheeler, 269 The Gold Ship, By Col. Preatiss Ingraham, 270 Blizzard Ben. By Captnin Mark Wilton, 271 The Huge MWunter. By Edward §, Ellis, 272 Minkekin Mike. By O11 Coomes. 278 Jumbo Joe. By Edward L. Wheeler. 274 Jolly Jim. By Charles Morris, 275 Arizona Jack. By Buckskin Sam, 276 Merle Monte’s Cruise. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 277 Denver Doll, By Edward L. Wheeler. 278 The Three Trappers. By Major Lewis W. Carson, 279 Old Winch, the Rifle King. By T. C. Harbaugh. 220 Merle Monte’s Fate. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 281 Denver Doll’s Victory. By Edward L. Wheeler. 282 The Typo Detective. By Edward Willett, 223 Indian Joe. By Major Lewis W. Carson. #84 The Sea Marauder. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 225 Denver Doll’s Decoy. By Edward L. Wheeler. 26 Joxh, the Boy Tenderfvot. By Capt. Mark Wiltoa, 287 Billy Bluc-Eyes. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 288 The Scalp King. By Crptain J. F.C, Adams, 289 Jolly Jim’« Job. By Charles Morris. 290 Little Foxfire, By Ol! Coomes, 291 Turk, the Ferret. By Edward L. Wheeler. 292 Sancho Pedro. By Major E. L. St. Vrain. 208 Red Claw, the One-Eved Trapper. By Captain Comstock. 294 Dynamlie Dan. By T, C. Harhangh. 295 Keurless Phil. By Edward Willett. 296 Denver Doll’s Drift. By Edward L. Wheeler. 297 The Tarantula of Taos, By Buckskin Sam, 298 The Water-lWound. By Charles Morris. 299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. By Edward L, Wheeler, 800 The Sky Demon. re O}l Coomes. 861 L adville Nick. By Major E. L. St. Vrain. 802 The Mountain Detective. By T. C. Harbaugh. 68 ’Liza Jane, the Girl Miner. By E. L. Wheeler. 804 The Dead 8) ct Dandy. By Colone) Prentiss Ingraham 805 Dashaway, of Dakota. By Charles Morris, 806 Neck-Tic Ned. By Major H. B, Stoddard. £07 The Strange Pard. By Buckskin Sam. 808 Keno Kit. the Boy Bngler’s Pard. By Col. P. Ingraham, 809 Deadwood Dick’« Big Deal. By _E. L. Wheeler. 810 The Barranca Wolf. By Joseph ©. Badger, Jr. $11 The Roying Sport, By Edward Willett. 812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince. By Maj. E. L, St. Vrain, 818 Cimarron Jack. By Frederick Dewey. 814 The Mysteridus Marauder. By Col. P, Ingraham, 815 Ned, the Cabin Boy. By Jack Farragut. 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Gira of Arizona, By T. C. Harbaugh. 817 Peacock Pete. By Lientenant Alfred Thorne. 818 Ker-whoop, Ker-whoo! By Backskin Sam, 819 The Black Rider, By Joseph E Badger, Jr. 820 The Sea Sorceress, By Jack Farragut $21 Deadwood Dick’a Dozen. By Edward L, Wheeler. 822 Temo, the Detective. By Edward Willett. 828 Arkananw Jack. By Harry Hazari. $24 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. By Una Morris. 825 Kelley, Hickey & Company, the Sleuths of Philadelphia. By Edward «.. Wheeler. . 826 The Ten Pards, By T. C. Harbangh. 827 Creeping Cat, the Caddo. By Buckskin Sam, 828 The Sky Detectives. By Maior Mickey Free. 829 Red-Skin Tom. By Harry Hazard. 880 Little Quick-Shot. By Edward L, Wheeler. 881 Black Nick, the Demon Rider. By Capt. Fred, Whittaker. £82 Frio Fred. By Buckskin Sam. 888 Brimatone Bob, and Wis Lightning Worse Quar- tette. By Maior E. L. St. Vrain. R84 Kangaroo Kits or, The Mysterious Miner, By E. L, Wheeler, B85 Old Double Fist. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr, 886 Bie Benson, By T. C. Harbaugh. &R&7 Ben Bird, the Cave King. Bv W. J. Hamilton, 888 A Tough Boy. By Phihp S, Warne. 889 Kangaroo Kit’s Racket, By Edward L, Wheeler, 840 Clip, the Contortioniat. By Edward Willett. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. By Charles Morris, 842 The Mountain Devil. By Harry Hazard. 848 Manhattan Mike. By Ejward L. Wheeler. 844 The Fighting Trio. By Buckskin Sam, 845 Pitiless Matt, By T. C. Harbaugh, 846 Repler Raphael. By Major H. B. Stoddard. B47 Dendwood Dick’s Ducata. By Edward L, Wheeler. 848 Fire-Ieela; or, Old Skinfllnt the Death-Shadow. By Roger Starbuck, 849 Wild Wolf, the Waco. By Buckskin Sam. 850 Red Ralph. the River Rover. By Ned Buntline, 851 Deadwood Dick Sentenced. By Edward L. Wheeler. 852 Tombstone Tom. By Maj. E. L. 8t. Vrain. 858 The Reporter-Detective. By Charles Morris. 854 Big Horn Ike the Hill Tramp, By Roger Starbuck, 855 The King of the Woods; or, Daniel ‘Boone’s Last Trail, By Joseph FE. Badger. Jr. BEE C40! Sam ord Pard, Be T. C. Harhaneh, RS7 The Ranch Raldera, By Buckskin Sam, 858 First-Class Fred, the Gent from Gopher. By E.L. Wheeler, B59 Daranre Pave. the Young Wrestier Champren. By Maj. E, » St, Vre'n. REO Silver-Maak, the Man of Miyetlegs By J. C, Cowdrick, 861 The Phartom Lighthouse, By Roger Starbuck. 862 Deadweod Dick’s Claim. By Edward L, Wheeler. REB Little Tornado. By Philip 8. Warne. £81 Snan-Shot, the Boy Ranger. By Buckskin Sam 865 Raltimore Ben. By A, P. Morris, E| LIBRARY. ——— BEADLE’S | HALF-DIM 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. By 1. C. Harban; 867 Wide-Awake Joe. By Charles Morris. B68 Yreka dim, the Gold-Gua_t@per. By E, L. Wheeler. 869 Shasta, the Gold King, By J. C. Cowdrick. LTO Rreatse~ Ren. the BPeef-Runner. By Roger Starbo 71 Kingbolt Chris, the Young HWard-Shell Detectiv By Maj. E. L. St, Vrain. 2 Yreka Jim’s Prize. By Edward L. Wheeler, 8 Little Jingo} or, the Queer Pard. By Philip S. Warne, 4 Gold-Duat Tom, By George H. Morse. 5 Chiota, the Creek, By Buckskin Sam. 6 California Joe’s First Trail, By Capt. F. Whittakex Bonodel, the Bey, Rover. By Col. Prentiss Ingrubasy 8 Zdward L, Wheeler. By Charles Morris, Nabob Ned. By 9 Larry, the Leveler. 880 Avalanche Alf, By Mujor E. L. St. Vrain, 881 Bandera Bill, By Buckskin Sam, 8X2 Cool Kit, the King of Kids. By Edward L. Wheeler, BRB The Indian Pilot. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 884 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero, By O}) Coomes, BRD Yreka Jim's Joker. By Edward L, Wheeler. 8°6 Captain Cutlass, the Ocean Spider. By T. C. Harbaugh. 8ST Warpath WILL, the Boy Phantom, By Col. P. Ingrabam, BSS Little Oh-my,. By Philip S. Warne- 889 Bicyele Ben. By Edwar! L. Wheeler, 890 caqaee Joe. By Maj. E. L. St. Vrain, 891 Kid-Glove Kit. By Maj. H. B. Stoddard, Ex-Scout, 892 Romeo and the Reda, Ky Buckskin Sam. 898 Seawall, the Boy Lieutenant. By Col. Prentiss Ingrsham, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam, By E. L. Wheeler. 895. California Joe’s War Trail, Ry Capt. Whittaker, 896 Rough Rob, of Dynamite, _ By T. C. Harbau,h. 297 Bob o’ the Bowery. By Jo Pierce. 898 Kid-Glove Kit and Pard. By Maj. H. B. Stoddard, 899 Black Buckskin. By Col. A. F. Holt, 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Wateh Detective. By E, L. Wheeled 74 —— ve omy, Sh By Philip S. Warne. andor, the Young Conspirator. By Col. P, Ingraham 408 Firetly Jack. B rates Nanri m ae 404 Little Lariat. Be Buckskin Sam. 405 Deadwood Dick tn Dead City. 406 The Mad Man-Munter. By Maj. H. B. Stoddard, 407 The Boy Insurgent, | By Col, Prentiss Ingriham. 408 Little Leather-Breechesa, By Philip 8. Warne. 409 Hercules, the Dumb Destroyer, by O} Coomnes, 410 Dendwood Dick’s Diamonds, “By Edward L. Wheelen- All The Silken Lasso. By T. C. Hardangh. 412 The Wild Yachtsman. By Col. Pren iss Ingraham. 418 Billy Bombshell, tie Cliff Climber. By FOS. Wipthrop, 414 The Daisy from Denver, By Buckskin Sam, 415 The Vagabond Detective. By Jo Pierce. 416 High Hat Harry, the Base Ball Detective. By E. L. Wheel 417 Webfoot Monae, the Tromp Detective. By O11 Coomes, A18 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. By T. C. Harbaugh. 419 Kenneth, the Knife-King. By A, F. Holt. 420 The Detective’s Apprentice, By J. C, Cowdrick. 421 Deadwood Dick In New York. By E. L.. Wheeler, 422 Baby Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone. By OD Coomes, 428 The Lost Finger. By Charles Morris, C. Cowdrick. By T. C. Harbaugh, 424 Cibuta John, 8B rot ——— cram, wits eter A Rattler. By am Slabsaides, the Beggar-Boy Detective. E. L. Wheel 427 The Three Trailers, By Suckskin Sam. oe 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. Fy Charles Morris, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee, Ty Col. P. Ingrabam. 480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust, By Edward L, Wheeler, 43} litte ae aps By Fbiitp 8. Warne. 2 Invineible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret. By Chas. Morrie 438 A Cabin Boy’s Lueck & %). Pre Vive 484 Jim Beak and Pal, ‘ : Vheelen 485 Tittle Lightfoot, the’ eV Hol’ 486 Phil Flash, the New Yo « | B rang 487 The Sean Ralder. By C.. Vrent = tn 4° Sonta Fe Sal. By E. L. Wheeler 439 Sandy Sam, the Street Seow! : ~ ; 440 Little Foxfoot, the Gold Howle Ry Arthur G, Giisedmms 441 The Ocenn Firefly, By Co! : ™, 442 Bluff Bill; or, The Lynx of the ckskla 8 445 Dendwood Dick, Jr. or, Pie Sie of Lhe ( rm non Ur eeromty Ry Ed. L. Wheeler. 4 Tittle Buckskin. ’ 5 Vhe City Sleutha, By 7 arbaugh. 6 Waphazard Warry. : . 8 Wetec z z z z z z z z Ry Ed. L. Wheeler, New York Nat. . By Alber Nicke!-Plate Ned; or, Deadwood Dick Jr's Defame, By E. L. Wheeler. 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective By Jos. E. Eadger, Jn 459 Wizard WAll, the Wonder-Worker. By Col. P. Ingral ame 451 Colorado Kate. By Philip S. Warne. 452 Wotepur Bob, the Street-Boy Detective, By Jo Pierce. 458 Sunflower Sam, of Shasta. By Fdward L, Whe ler, 454 Wizard Will's Street Scouts. By Col. P. Ingraham, 4°65 Little Lone Star. By Bucksiin Sam. 456 Rilly Brick, the Jolly Vagabond, By Chas, Morris. 457 Wingedtoot Fred. By 0!) Coomes. 458 New England Nick. By Albert W. Atken. 459 Flush Fan, the Ferret, By Edward L. Wheeler, 4°0 The Lawyer’s Shadow, Py Jo Pierce. 461 One Againts Fifty. By T. C. Horbangh. 462 The Born Guide. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham 468 Tamarac om, the Big Trapper Boy. By O1l Coomes, 464 Nimble Nick, the Cirens Prince. By Albert W. Aiken, 465 Philo Fly, of Phenix. By Edward L, Wheeler. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective by Charies 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude. By J. C, Cowdrick. 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster, By Col. P. Iugralham, 469 The Rival Giants of Nowhar’. By J. W, Oshon. 470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt for the Nabob Ry T. C. Harbaugh. , AT1 Bozeman Bill of Big Brace}; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’ Corral By E. L. Whiteler. AT2 Jaunty Joe, the Young Horse-King. By Jo Pierce. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic. By Ol] Coome 474 Flora, the Flower Girl. By Co). Prentiss Ingraham, 475 The Black Ship. By John S, Warner, 476 Wumboldt Harry, the Hurricane. Py Edward L. Wheele! A477 The Excelstor Sport. By T. C. Harbaugh. A78 Tangemund, the Desert Metective, By Frederick Dewey, 479 Detective Dodge. By Charles Morris. 480 Three Jolly Parda, By Philip S. Warne. 481 Moll Mystery: or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Deadwood, B Edward ?. Wheeler, 482 angele Bob, the Boy Trojan of the Great Range, OOMeS. 488 Ferrets Aflonts or, Wizard Will's Last Case. By Colon Prentiss Ingrahum. 484 Comanche Dick and His Three Invincibles. E enrv J. Thomas, 485 Git Thar Owney, the Unknown. By George C. Jenka, 486 Sealakin Sam, the Sparkier. By Edward L, Wheeler. 487 Nevada Ned, the Revolver Ranger. By Col, P. Ingrahest 488 Wild Dick Racket. By Charles Morris, 489 The Dinmond Sport. By Wm. G. Patten, 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. By J. C, Cowdrie 491 Prince Pistol, the King of the West; or, Deadwood Dk Jr’s Compact. By Edward L. Wheeler. 492 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. By Geo. C, Jenks. 498 Taos Ted, the Arizona Sport, By Albert W. Aiken. 494 Burly Sim, the Young Ferryman Detective, By Jo Pleres, 495 Artzons Joe, the Boy Pard of Texas Jack, By Col. Prentl ngrabam. A New Isene Every Tuesday. The Walf-Dime Library is ror sale by a1) newsdealers, & cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New Yor Morris