Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 517) (1887 06 21)
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I = = i — QUITO, WEL WI TE, . —EE te A OU ee _— / m™. eee ToS: Cas TT \ Y /A June 2i, 1887, i —s— * Price, Sean 5 ‘seat l No. 517. m\\\\\> IN \ YS SS => SSS : \ = — See \ nu Lee ina!) | SS OR The Jolly Pards’ All-For-Love | Campaign. A Romance of the Golden State. BY PHILIP S. WARNE, AUTHOR OF “ PATENT-LEATHER JOE,” ‘‘ CAPTAIN ARIZONA,” ‘‘ LITTLE AH SIN,” “‘ THREE JOLLY PARDS,” ETC., ETC. | iv Feu CHAPTER I, DEPUTY MARSHAL KEENE, Pappy’s Fiat “had done herself proud!” She had a regular political organization. Jim Gladden had been elected marshal, or, as the oo put it, ‘‘ chief cook an’ bottle-washer,” . xt y ‘“THREE CHEERS FUR THE THREE JOLLY PARDS!” YELLED A FELLOW WITH A VOICE ut what the solid citizens especially plumed LIKE A BUFFALO BULL,
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Jim Gladden’s Deputy. themselves on, was the fact that the camp had been included in the cireuit of Judge Owney Maglochlin, and they were to have ‘ Court Week” there, as big as life! ** Now, gents,” said Jim, in his address to his fellow-townemen, after he had been duly in- Stalled in office, ‘* things has been runnin’ purty loose an’ keerless in this hyar burgh; 9 it don’t stan’ to reason that a broncho as has had his head all along is goin’ fur to buckle down to stiddy business all to once, without nary kickin’, But it’s a tight rein as fetches ’em; an’ that thar’s the keerd what I propose tolead off at ye. Now, what I want in the way o’ backin’, is a posse what ll jest take the shine off’n ary con- stable’ s squad in this hyar section. { want live ame", an’ squar’ men—men as won’t be the fu’st , “co break the law what they’re supposed to up- hold the poatesty of. “Don’t all speak to once. Ye’re an ornery lot—an’ that'll wash! Jest you stan’ up ina row tell I look ye over, an’ see ef thar’s ary pickin’ as’ll do fur to present to the judge when he honors this hyar town with his fu’st grand lay- out.” The ‘‘ boys” took the uncomplimentary frank- ness of their marshal as a good joke. One and all admitted its justice. But the demand wasscarcely out of his mouth, when Dick Johnson sprung forward and cut off their laughing retorts by shouting eagerly: ‘* Look a-hyeah, boss! We’s got jis’ dat posse what ye want, all ready-made! De Free Jolly Pards’!l fill de bill! Don’t you waste time goin’ no furder. Tie to us; an’ we'll hab sich a he 0’ rapscallions ’gin’ de jedge come, dat he’ll’clude to settle right down hyeah, an’ go into a stiddy business.” Dick’s eyes were shining and his ivories gleam- ing. He was so keen for the honor for himself and pards, that he couldn’t keep still. It was plain that he had not the remotest doubt as to their ability to “‘ fill the bill,” as he said. ‘* Waal, ef unadulterated cheek was what was wantin’—” f But Jim Gladden got no further. A great shout arose, drowning bis voice. ““Three cheers fur the Three Jolly Pards!” yelled a fellow with a voice like a buffalo bull. The conceit took like fire'in the prairie grass. The crowd yelled with laughter, pushing for- ward two boys, but little if any older than Dick —all yet in their teens. Harry Keene was as finea specimen of Young America as you would find in many a day’s journey; an _ Murphy had all the best SS of the Emerald Isle wrapped up in his skin. Harry displayed some modest embarrassment at thus having ‘‘ greatness thrust upon him,” but Tom spit in bpd eg of his hand, and bran- dishing a sprig 0’ shillaly, cried: :'s We'll do it, be gob!” ‘“ Put wan 0’ the young divils an the force, annyways!” shouted an Irishman. ‘‘ What do ez want betther than Harry Keene, I dunno? asn’t it him as beat Cale Burchard an’ Bow- legged Banty out 0’ fheir boots, bod luck till the spalpeens?” ** Keene! Keene! Keene!” shouted the crowd. “ Waal, gents, ef I make him my deputy, ou’ll have to serve under him,” announced Jim ladden. His eyes lighted as they rested on the boy. It was plain that he was more than half willing to fall in with the whim of the crowd. ‘*Chalk him down! We'll serve fast enough.” * Step this way, Deputy Keene!” Gladden ordered. With his cheeks flaming with embarrassment, but his eyes flashing with gratified pees Harry — to the side of his superior officer. is pards went wild. There was not a spark of envy in their composition. ‘Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!” they yelled, swinging their hats about their heads. Whatever honors came to one of the League wat Specht Specch! cried the laughi in peech! Speech!” cri e lau miners. Harry took off his hat, and Coukieek and shifted his weight restlessly from one foot to the other; looked up and looked down, and strove to gather his scattered wits. 4 “Stand up on the stump!” cried one on the outskirts of the crowd, who was craning his neck over the heads of those before him. A couple of men seized the young deputy by be arm On either side, and lifted him upon the stump. - Howld on, gints!” shouted Tom Murphy. “I have a nomination to put before the convin- tion. Thayre stands the next Mugwump candi- date 9 he Prisidency! Anything to beat This sally was greeted with general laughter, which gave Harry time to collect himself. Like all true heroes, he was modest, but not so modest as to allow himself to be overcome. He was master of the situation. **Gentlemen!” he said, ‘‘I reckon you’ve put me onto this thing for a lark; but if it proves that there are any rogues in this camp, Vl tr = to let them have all the laughing on their side.” “Sure fur you, me b’y! Ar’ what air yez wantin’ to beat that, faith?’ ‘* Boy or no boy, he wears a man’s clo’s!” And, indeed, young as he was, Harry Keene’s figure was filling out finely; and what he fell short of the stature of maaeeod he made up in litheness. Of late—for a reason which will presently ap- pear—he had been watching the growth of an adolescent mustache with impatience. The full complement of, Jim Gladden’s posse having been made up, arrangements were at once made for the building of a ‘‘ calaboose,” which Jim stipulated should have the qualities of a ‘‘ buncomb ” fence—that it should be ‘‘ hoss- high, bull-strong and pig-tight.” im then formed his men into a squad, two and two, and with himself and his young deputy at their head, marched them off to a private meeting, in which he could instruct them in their prospective duties. Tom Murphy and Dick Jobnson thus left with time on their hands, hit upon a project to give their pard a ‘ boost.” “Tell ye what it is, Tom,” observed Dick, ‘*de League ain’t gittin’ along so slow!” “Slow!” reiterated Tom. ‘‘ We'll stick to it till wan av uz is Governor o’ the State, at the least calculation.” ‘* Look a-hyeah!—s’pose we’uns gib Harry a little send-off wid de ole man?” ‘*Wid ould Abraham?” asked Tom, with a laugh, “Yes. Ki-yi! won’t somebody's eyes shine?” Dick’s own eyes shone, and he rubbed his hands and smacked his lips as if in sympathy ‘with a rare treat that awaited his pard. ‘*Paith!” cried Tom, “catching on” to the idea, ‘‘ we’ll make the ould buck salute the new deputy mairshal!” They ran off down the street to a store where clothing hyng from the ceiling in a way that ep no room for doubt that the proprietor was a Jew. Abraham, a typical son of the race, awaited them at the door. ‘* Yong shentlemens,” he said, bowing and smiling and rubbing his hands cordially, ** I am alvays glad to see you—you know dot! Come in! come in! Vat shall I show you dis morn- ing? Instead of accepting his extended hand, Dick threw himself into an exaggerated attitude of one standing with his thumbs in the arm- holes of his vest, and said, with affected hauteur: ‘‘Keep yo’ distance, ole hap! We~uns ain’t *lowin’ no mo’ yates | “Vat now?” asked Abraham, shrugging his shoulders and smiling—knowing that it was some joke. ‘*‘ Maybe ye’re so ignorant as not to be knowin’ that the Pairds 0’ Paddy’s Flat have taken a rise in the world,” said Tom. “T am glad of dot!” Abraham declared— “very glad!” “Come in de sto’, Hurry up hyeah!” cried Dick, bustling the Hebrew into his own estab- lishment. And though their mysterious actions M7 ued the old Israelite’s curiosity, they would tell him nothing of its significance for the present. While they were talking, a curtain which closed a doorway in the rear end of the store se: put aside, and a wrinkled old Jewess joined them. A little later the curtain was again agitated, as if by a slight disturbance of the air, but one of keen vision might have detected a bright eye veting Sronet an interstice. The boys excited the curiosity of the old folks, and also that of the person hidden by the cur- tain, to the highest pitch, until Dick, who had been keeping mysterious watch at the door, sud- denly cried: ‘‘Hyear he comes! Now fur it!” “‘Tt’s a hat ye’re wantin’!” cried Tom, | And catching up the nearest at hand, he clap- ped it on the old Jew’s head, and so hustled him out of doors. ** Do yez see him?” he cried, pointing down the street, where Harry was in sight, ya eve g that way. ‘* How proudly he steps!” ‘* Misther Keene!” said old Abraham, with a smile of glad affection, ‘*The Deputy Mairshal 0’ Paddy’s Flat!” said Tom, impressively. ‘* Free cheers fur de Deppity Marshal!” shout- ed Dick. ‘‘ Raise ’er, ole man!—raise er!” er ; And, by the instance of the boys, old Abraham a3 swung bis hat and cheered in a voice cracked with age; while Rebecca* kept bowing and smiling like the good old soul she was. Back in the store the curtain was fora moment pushed aside, and the most beautiful face the eye need wish to rest upon appeared to view. hat an eager light there was in the large, al- mond-shaped eyes! What exquisite roses bloom- — ed in cheeks like the heart of an ocean shell! And never sweeter lips fell apart with wonder- — ing delight! ‘ oy or man, whoever could bring such a look to such a face, was to be congratulated! CHAPTER II. LOVE’S YOUNG DREAM. Zt ‘*’You chaps clear out of here!” ordered Harry, as he came up. . However, it was plain that it was modesty, and not real annoyance, that prompted his affec- tation of brusqueness. “Kil aiwt dat de policeman?” laughed Dick Johnson, with an antic. ‘Jes’ listen to dat. Mowe on dah !” And he mimicked the insolent airof authority» | of a Bowery ‘‘ cop” to the life. ‘* Raith, we’re obeyin’ ordthers!” said Tom, taking off his hat in mock respect.“ Long life — til yer honor!” ie eanwhile old Abraham had grasped Harry by the hand, and was drawing him into the — store. : Rebecca kept bowing and smiling, like a toy mandarin that has been set to rocking. : ‘““My yo’ng frient!” cried the Jew, heartily, © ** dis is go0k. Dot is a brave yo’ng mans vat is a debudy marshal before he is old enoughto vote. Come in! comein! Dot vas an honor to my house to haf you—” x) ‘Hold on, Uncle Abraham!” cried Harry. | “That'll do. A little of that sort of thing goes — a great way.” pe owever, he allowed the old man to lead him — through the store into the back room, the door to which, as we have said, was closed by a cur- tain. Here he was in the sanctuary of the old Jew’s home. He was the only person in Paddy’s Flat _ who had ever been admitted to that apartment. ~ It was evidently a dining-room and living- room combined. The furniture was of the sim- nes sort—a plain deal table and some wooden-- ttomed chairs, ‘But everything was scrupulously clean. The bare floor was as white as the holy-stoned deck of a man-of-war. On the table, a piece of muslin, as al and soft as gossamer, lay in a crumpled heap, so that its shape could not be made out, fy, Harry’s eye fixed upon this dainty bit of — — ~ Oo woman's fabric, after a flash of eager e ya vont | about the room. To him, the mg = |O needle sticking in the work, anda golden thim- = = ble so small that a fairy might have wornit, were objects of sentimental interest. > pe ‘Miriam! Miriam!” called the old Jew. ‘‘ Papa!” came the response from above stairs } The voice was—to Harry, at least—like ¢ chime of silver bells. But ‘there was a ; in it which would have given a delicious sen- sation, if he had known more about the coy" eg sex. = The fact was that, on learning of his approachs ie Miss Miriam had scuttled up-stairs like a fright" ened fawn, to stand breathless and tremblin; ‘ with ber hands pressed upon ber fluttering bosom, her lips apart, and her eyes glistening, = waiting for the sound of his step. cee ‘Come here! Make the stairs down—kvick /* =~ cried the old man. : may There was the sound of light steps on thi, Md stairs; the curtain of figured calico was a aside; and a young girl stood framed in th? a rude setting. ; Never such dark eyes, such red lips, cheeks such exquisite loveliness, greeted the eager Ca of a lover! > ae A word will inform the reader ol the relatior of these two in particular, and of the o \ characters of this drama in general. { ; For a long time the existence of this lov * gin in the home of the old Jew merchant be n a profound secret. ESE a That her health might not suffer from the unnatural confinement, old Abraham had every — day taken her out for a donkey-back ride, her youthful figure disguised to eae tha ooh aes *See Half-Dime No. 480. “ The Three Jolly Pards.”
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» _ his round-shouldered old wife, and her prett face hidden from tbe sight of men by a thick black vail. freed Out among the crags, she could throw this vail aside, and enjoy an hour of unrestrained om. When this secret was betrayed to the world by the machinations of two precious scamps, -known as Cale Burchard and Bowlegged Banty, whose evil designs were frustrated by the Three Jolly Pards, old Abraham said that he had re- sorted to the trick to protect her from the ruf- fianly fellows who would hold nothing sacred that belonged to a Jew. But a subsequent fact seemed inconsistent with this explanation. Even after the revela- tion, the girl still wore the same disguise; so that, on seeing the round-shouldered and deeply- vailed figure that rode beside the old Jew, no one could tell whether the disguise hid the blooming beauty of the maiden, or the shriv- eled ugliness of the beldam. But now, as he gazed at her face to face, Harry Keene held his breath with delight. And she?—she blushed divinely, yet with the instinct of maiden modesty affec surprise at finding him there. ‘Vat haf ve here?” cried old Abraham, play- Tt is de brafe shentleman, Meestar Keene!” she replied, advancing with the pliant grace with which a timid animal draws near to one who is wooing it with outstretched hand. _ She did not offer her hand; but, stopping at quite £ distance from Harry. dropped him a pretty little courtesy. “Ttis de gery Bren ge of Patty’s Flat!” announced the old Hebrew, proudly. “he deputy marshal!” repeated the girl ny under her breath. She lifted her daintily-curved eyebrows as if this were a surprise. An instant her dark eyes flashed keen admi- ration at the youth who stood almost as rosy as herself before her; then the long silken lashes again swept her cheeks, “Tt isa great man that has come to us,” she said. At this instant a sharp note on the gong over : _ the store door summoned old Abraham to busi- a ess. “Tt isa customer!” he cried, with breathless and scuffed away in slipshod haste, f so gm ~~ Out in the store he could be heard perjuring himself, all in the way of ‘ business,” in his r assurance that some shoddy goods from Connecticut were the ‘‘ latest imbordation from Baris!” Presently he shouted: ** Rebecca! Rebecca! kvick!” _ And the old lady went to play ber part in the comedy. Harry knew it all by heart. He had been a victim of the old skinner’s arts, having the back of his coat puckered up while he looked at the ront, and the front puckered up while he look- ed at the back, to prove that ‘‘ anyway you look at it, dot fit you shust like de paper on de vall!” He too had old Rebecca summoned, to stand and raze, throwing up her hands in mute admira- tfon, thus abetting. the most barefaced repre- *ntations of fact—all in the way of busiuess, which, even on Wall street, or among the big res on Sixth avenue, cover a multitude of indles. But for once in his life Harry blessed the old Yhylock’s rness to make a sale. ‘He turned to the girl who had been left alone vith him. ‘She was stitching like lightning—or would ‘ave done so, if her thread had not suddenly be- rayed an odd propensity to get tangled. er head was bowed so low over her work yat he could only see her hightened color, thout being able to make out the expression * her face. ** Miriam!” he said, in a low, wooing voice, ' She sto’ all motion, save a perceptible ‘mor. He could see the quick rise and fall of r bosom; and her fluttering breath agitated a ark tress that fell across her cheek. “* Miriam!” he said again. “Tam glad that you receif de high office of ynor, young shentleman!” she said, with sud- e" pitancy, as if afraid of the silence with {tow voice vibrating through it. aN. ‘t call me young gi an,” he pleaded. * Moestar e!” she corrected Come here!—come z < That’s almost as bad as the other!” cried the “ce - t. Vat then?” asked the girl, with a low, flut- As ryi—jast Harry!” Jim Gladden’s Deputy. Instead of complying, she dropped her head lower, in silence. He could see her cheek dimple with a smile, the color coming and going rapidly. ‘* Won't you call me Harry?—just once!” he pleaded. She lifted her face, just so that he caught the flash of her eyes and the gleam of her white teeth, in a lightning glance. Then it dropped over her work again. There was an interval of dead silence, while he waited. Finally, in a whisper so low that even the hungry ears of love could scarcely make out the articulations, he heard his name. ‘* Hahree !” No one till he has heard his name uttered with a foreign accent, can know the charm that sweet lips lend to it. It was foilowed, in this case, by a faint sigh; and then the girl suddenly hid her crimson face in the muslin on which she was at work. Harry glanced at her with glistening eyes. Dared he go further? But, when did lover stop with such a confes- sion? ** Miriam!” he said, again. She did not respond; but he could see that she vibrated with the sound of his voice. ‘* Miriam!” As if constrained, she lifted her face, and fixed her dark eyes upon him. He held out his hand. “Come!” he said. **Oh, no! no!” she panted, breathlessly. **Yes! I want to tell you something.” She looked toward the doorway with its calico curtain. She listened. “Oh, stow that gail!” came in rough accents from the store. ‘‘Thar never was such dog- gone shoddy hung on ascarecrow; an’ you know it!” “Ach! vat shall I $y,0 ou?” cried old Abraham, in despair. ‘‘ You don’t see no such coat like dot on de Gofernor of de State! Shust you look at dot clot’! I gif you my oat’, dere don’t come no goots like dot in dis country since de var. Vere you see a coat like dot coat, eh? Dere ain’t a rinkle in dot coat—ask my vife!” It was evident that there was no danger of interruption from that quarter. Old Abraham had forgotten his daughter and everything else, in the absorbing interest of a sale. The lover still wooed, with burning look and outstretched hand. ‘*No! no!” the girl kept pleading, in a low, agitated voice. Nevertheless, she rose, leaving her sewing on the table, and crossed the floor with the timid, hesitating steps of the fawn she so much resem- bled in grace and innocent shyness, As a gazelle stretches its neck to snuff the hand held forth to it, so she, stopping ata dis- tance, reached out her hand, to intrust her fin- ger-tips to his clasp. But, alas! when he held those rosy ho he began to draw her toward him, calling tenderly by her name, as before: ‘* Miriam!” ‘*No! no! brave shentleman! kind shentle- man!” she pleaded. But he was remorseless, till his arm encircled her waist. For a moment she hung over him as he drew her to his side. Her hair fell against his face. He heard her breath fluttering between and felt it warm upon his cheek. He scarcely knew what hai pened; but all in a flash she was away from him, back to the table, with her head bowed within the circle of her arms, and her face hidden from sight in the cambric she had been stitching. Dizzy with delight, and without a word to her further, Harry went into the store, and through to the street, scarcely noticed by Abraham or Rebecca, the former of whom was absorbed in the beatitude of having the price of bis last sale counted out to him, while his wife congratulated the customer on his in. Like a frightened wraith, the girl fled to the sanctuary of her own chamber, there to shed the first tears of happy love, And at this very instant a plot was in forma- tion, looking to the wreck of all ber hopes! CHAPTER III. A SLEEPING SON OF ABRAHAM. PrEsTO! Weare a hundred miles away from Paddy’s Flat. The scene opens in a mining-camp not far from Sutter’s Mill, where gold was first dis- covered, “Hil jest look at that feller thar!” ‘* That sheeny?” es, er her lips, | purpose g ls. hen. £e passed s— that— le man— ‘* Yes.” ‘* Waal, I’ve seen better looking chaps nor him in my days.” ‘*But did you ever see any one that looked anythin’ like him?” ‘** About the nose? I should smile!” ‘*Blather! I’m talkin’ biz, J be.” ‘* Waal, they all look pretty much of a much- ness tome, <A sheeny’s a sheeny: an’ that’s all I kin make of it.” ‘** Look-a-hyar, Banty!—when I talk I'm a- sayin’ somethin’, I want you to take a squar’ squint at that snoozer, an’ say whether you ever see his like before—a fam’ly resemblance, ye onderstand.” The man addressed as Banty now turned for a serious scrutiny. The subject of examination lay asleep in the sun, outside a saloon door. His clothes were ragged and dirty. They told one partof his life history plainly enough—rum and ruin, But what was ag van, Foe the circumstances uu was, that he was undoubtedly of the Hebrew race, What could have brought an Israelite to such a pass as this? Whatever their faults, the Hebrew seldom falls into such disrepute as marks the extreme degradation of other races of men. This man’s hands were soft and well shaped. His curly black hair was fine and .as glossy as jet. So was his beard, though sadly neglected. is features were good. One saw at a glance that it would take very little to turn him into a fine-looking man. The men who stood oe at him were typical border ruffians. Both had a hang-dog look, but each after his kind. Cale Burchard was a surly rascal, with a brow always black with a frown, and a lip always curling with a sneer. Bowlegged Banty was of the order “ may 6M No contortion of his countenance betrayed his inward malignity. His voice was ever under perfect control. They were a brace of scamps such as are sure to be *‘ wanted” somewhere, as these two were at Paddy’s Flat. It is needless to say that it was but for one urpose—to put them to the only occupation at which such chaps can be of benefit to the com- munit; Bien sbegrehe ven ‘© Waal, come to look him over,” said Banty, hesitatingly, ‘‘’pears like I have seen him some’rs, But I don’t locate him, pard.” t " You never seen him before. No more did ** Then what air ye shooting off your mouth about?” ‘* Stick to my text. Did you ever see anybody like him?” “‘Like him? Nary rooster o’ that descrip’. An’ yet, I kinder drop to him, too.” ‘* A woman for instance?” ‘© A which?” ‘Or a gal?” ‘* Hang me ef I hain’t!” *Who?—who?” eagerly. ‘*The leetle cuss what slipped through our fingers at Paddy’s Flat.” . “The very picture of her!—eh?” , ‘* Waal, I don’t see why we need git in a sweat about it.” ** Ye don’t, eh? Waal, J do!” and Cale Bur- chard’s brow contracted with one of his ugliest scow He set to scratching his head in moody thought. ‘‘The snoozer might be her brother, now,” he muttered, like a man feeling his way in the dark, ‘‘ or her father, blast him!” ‘** Look a-hyar, Cale!” cried Banty, “air you gittin’ maggots on the brain? You know as wellasI do, that the gal’s got one father an’ one mother already. Then what—” ‘So they say!” interrupted Cale, dryly. Then he reached out and suddenly gripped his companion’s arm, as in a vise. “Eh! What's e with you?” cried Banty, trying to shake off the uncomfortable grasp. ‘I’m goin’ fur to git squar’!” cried Cale, with a ferocity fairly fiendish. “ Waal, don’t take it out o’ me!” **Come! let’s take a look over the ground. What’s peculiar up thar at Paddy’s Flat—hey?” ‘ re he ole Shylock an’ that thar angel what - ** You bet! The flam what them gulls took in like new milk!” agi | "low two galoots of about our size guzzled “We hitched on to her fur to levy toll on the rt) An balked three boys! S’pose we. don’t = rd more abont that?” :
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7 Jim Gladden’s Deputy. ‘*Hold on! ho-o-o-old on, says you! Thatthar was the fu’st trick. It’s our deal this hyar time; an’ ef we don’t stock the keerds on ’em, jest you let us know!” ‘* Kix ’em to suit yerself.” ““T mean to. e’re goin’ to have the leetle joker in this time.” ““The joker?” “Thar he lays. But, say!—what d’ye ‘low they hid that gal fur, anyway?” *“Waal, Paddy's Flat ain’t no place fur no young gal what ain’t got a man tied to her, with a brace o’ revolvers strap to him! The Jowed to keep her out o’ the clutches o’ jest sic likely fellers as you an’ me.” = So they say!” repeated Cale, as dryly as be- fore. ‘‘ Waal, people will lie!” ‘*Eh? What did they hide her fur, then?” ‘To keep her away from sich fellers as him !” “ N o!” Cale once more caught him by the wrist, and fetching his face close to that of his companion, id: said: . Ye -hyear me, pard? I’m goin’ fur to git r! And striding over to the sleeper, he clapped him unceremoniously on the shoulder, and shouted: ‘* Hi, stranger! CHAPTER IV. BIRDS OF A FEATHER. “Ex!” cried the sleeper, starting up in alarm, ‘“ We're wantin’ o’ you!” ‘“*Hah! Vat you vant? It’s better you don’t makes no troubles mit me!” and springing up, the Hebrew struggled to free himself. His hand went round to his hip with a readi- ness which bespoke familiarity with the life of that delectable region, but Cale caught him by the wrist, and prevented him from drawing the ee at ‘Hold on, pard!” he said. ‘‘ We ain’t dis- cussin’ with them things. Drop it!” “Vat you do wit? me? I don’t make nottinks wit’ you!” ‘“‘Ef I wanted to hurt ye, I’d ’a’ drove my knife through ye while ye slept! Simmer down, will ye? want to have some business with ye?” ‘““Who are you? I don’t know you!” “Ye don’t, eh? Waal, that’s easy cured. Come in an’ take somethin’, an’ we'll git better acquainted as we go along,” and letting go the lsraelite, he threw open the saloon door. The Jew glanced suspiciously frum one to the other of the hard-looking characters. ‘‘Oh, it’s all right,” was Banty’s assurance, “We're yer solid friends. We'll prove it, by puttin’ some money in yer ket. ‘* Monish!” repeated the Hebrew, in surprise; while his whole aspect changed. In a physical struggle, these burly Europeans had him at a disadvantage, but when it came to money, he could hold his own, and in all probability turn the tables on them. ‘*- You don’t seem to be over-flush, at the pre- sent writin’,” remarked Banty, with a grin and a glance at his disreputable wardrobe. Phe Hebrew looked down at his shabby per- Rout out o’ hyar!” son. ‘“No,” he said, warily. ‘‘I have no monish.” ‘But start ye with a dozen suspenders, an’ in two months ye’d own a corner store!” ‘* We've got somethin’ better to offer than suspenders,’ Cale suggested. ‘““We may reverse the order 0’ business, an’ come to the suspenders at the end o’ the trade!” supplemented Banty, with a wink. ale went to the table most distant from the few cage ge who were waiting in melanchol silence, if not in sleep, the return of night, with its festivities. He sat on one side of the table, Banty on the other with the stranger at the end. Having ordered both cigars and liquor, Cale opened his business, ‘*Pard, I hail to the name o’ Cale Burchard. Yan a galoot is Bowlegged Banty. Now, what fur handle do you sport? Jakey?”’ ‘*Call me Jakey,” answered the Hebrew, ac- cepting this off-hand christening. ‘ That?ll do as well as anythin’ else,” added Cale, as if a man’s name were the least import- ant part of his personality. ‘‘ Now, Jakey what’s your business out in this hyar great an’ glorious country?” It was evident that Jakey had slept off his previous intoxication, if he had indeed been ‘how came ye so?’ His wits were fully on the alert. ‘*Ve all come here for about de same t’ing,” he said—‘‘ monish!” “But we don’t all propose to git it in the same way,” declared Cale, as if all ways were equally legitimate, with only a matter of taste be- tween them. “Some gits it witha pick, some with a pack, an’some with a poke /” explained Banty, illus- trating the last case with a suggestive manipu- lation of his bowie, ‘“* Vell,” said Jakey, with a mechanical laugh to cover a shrewd contraction of the eyes, wy haf got some monish already mit a pack, but not de kind of a pack vat you’re talkin’ about,” It was plain that this was only a *‘ feeler.” “ Air you very partic’lar how you git the money, so long as you git it?’ inquired Cale. ‘““Vat is your pisness?’ demanded Jakey, noncommittally. “We want you to go in with us, an’ lift one end of a box what’s so heavy with gold-dust that two can’t handle it.” Instead of exciting his cupidity, this speech had the effect of deepening Jakey’s suspicions. ““Vat for you pick out a stancher for such a job as dot? You don’t know me.” ‘So they say,” answered Cale. ‘‘ Suppose I tell ye about a chap what I do know?” He straightened back in his chair, and fixed his eyes upon the Hebrew’s face, as if to read the change of every line of it, as it was affected by what he said. “Fur short,” he proceeded, ‘‘ let us call bim Jakey. Waal, Jakey he lived in a big city in the States, on a street whar thar was a pile 0’ travel, ae hyear me |” The Hebrew gazed at his inquisitor with apprehension that he could not altogether hide, The blood slowly ebbed from his face. His eyes grew unsteady. ‘‘Jakey,” put in Banty, taking up the tale, ‘had a wife an’ leetle one,—a gal kid, ye onder- stand.” The Hebrew turned his head sharply, to meet this new and wholly unexpected attack. Banty appeared to have said all that he had to , and Cale resumed: ‘The wife was a _ beauty, an’ her child Waal, the kid took after Jakey. He wa’n't so bad fur looks; but Le played hob with his wife, tell he got her under the sod—that’s what’s the matter with Jakey!” A certain shrinking into himself showed how deeply the Hebrew was affected by this tale. ‘*The wife,” pursued Cale, “‘ was the idol 0’ the old folks; an’ when they seen that Jakey had killed her—” ‘** Killed her!” repeated the Hebrew, starting back with a gasp, ghastly pale. ‘* Killed her!” reiterated Cale, in a cold matter-of-fact tone, ‘‘ then the old folks cleare out with the kid, an’ Jakey hunted ’em like a bloodhound, but he didn’t get onto ’em.” At this the Hebrew leaped to his feet, snatch- ing out his revolver. ““ Whoever you are,” he said, in a low, fierce voice, which showed that he was a man fully able to take care of himself even in that wild country, ‘‘you will find dot Isaac Salomans is no coward ; nor is he a child dot you shall play mit! Cale Burchard’s whole manner changed. He now addressed this man, whom he had despised as a ‘‘sheeny,” in the same tone that he would have used to a comrade. ‘*Set down, Salomans. I like your style. for business.” “Jakey didn’t kill his wife,” answered the Hebrew, half appealingly, half defiantly. ‘““Oh, no—not in any way that the law could take hold of,” admitted Cale—‘t with kindness!” The Jew sunk back into his chair, and re- placed his weapon, slowly. ‘*Who might you be?” he demanded: ‘' How do you come to know about my affairs?” ‘*Never mind about that. The question is:— Do you want to git your gal?” There followed a long and anxious pause in which the Hebrew scanned his inquisitors nar- rowly. “Your get-up is very clever!” said Salomans, recovering himself, and eying the others defiant- y: “Our which?” asked Banty. ** Are you from San Francisco?” Both Cale and Banty stared at the speaker, and then looked at one another, for an explana- tion of bis enigmatical words. ‘* Come off the perch, pard,” said Cale, finally. ‘* What air you drivin’ at, anyway?” p ‘*Do youthink I haf never seen detectives pe- ore?” “Detectives! Waal, I sw’ar! Haw! haw! haw!” The two ruffians looked at each other, and went off in a roar, sa I’m free to say that I reckon we're about ready ‘‘ Waal, pard,” responded Cale, after a while, ‘* jest you look us over. I reckon a chap what’s as sharp as you seem to be, will be able to judge whether we air detectives, or not.” Salomans coolly got up, and made a narrow examination of both the men before him. ‘*'You are vat you look like on de outside,” he said, finally. ‘‘ Now, vat you vant mit me? You don't go to gif me nottinks mitout somet’inks for yourself.” “We're gittin’ down to hard-pan, I see!” ex- claimed Cale, straightening himself round for business. ‘‘ Now, hyar’s our leetle scheme. See how ye like it.” An animated discussion followed, in which the Hebrew became more and more interes as his suspicions were allayed, and he was satisfied that these were really the rascals they appeared to be. At the end he said: ** Done!” And, clasping hands all round, in token of mutual support, they left the saloon in com- pany. CHAPTER V. PUTTING UP A BLIND. Firty miles from the scene just outlined, in the northern part of the State of California, was located a mining-camp called Sundown, Into this camp came three miners, who, dur- ing the whole six months of their residence, were puzzles to every one else in the camp, To begin with, they were never seen apart. Where one went, the other two unfailingly ac- companied him. Although all three had the look of men who never threw a glass of whisky over their shoul- der, yet, when night came, they regulerly went to the saloon, took a single drink, bad a canteen filled to last them the next day, and never spent a cent more for liquor. They never gambled, nor bet. They never seemed elated with gocd luck, nor cursed their bad luck. Before they had been in the camp a week, they were dubbed ‘‘ the Sunday Schoo) Class.” One night, for a lark, the boys swore that they were going to give the Sunday School Class a picnic; they should have one good square drunk, if they never had another. Forming in a _ long, straggling line, they marched to the shanty in which the mystericus strangers ‘‘hung out,” and ‘‘routed them out” with three rousing cheers and a “ tigah.” U being informed of the treat that was tendered them, the strangers accepted, stipulat- ing one condition—that their entertainers should drink glass for glass with them. The popularity of this provision goes without saying. By midnight the whole camp was roarin drunk, except the barkeeper and the guests 0 the occasion. By two o’clock they were all “under the table,” to the last mother’s son. Then the Sunday School Class took a final drink with the barkeeper, and walked home to their shanty. “Boys,” said a representative man of Sun- down, summarizing the general sentiment, “we're a sold community! Ef the Sunday School Class don’t drink, it ain't because they don’t know how!” One day the Sunday School Class abandoned their claim, and left the vamp, as abruptly as 4 had come. . Noone knew any more about them than cn the day of their arrival—whether they had made anything or not; who they were or what they were; what they had done or what they proposed to do; whence they had come or whither they went, Two of them—Cale and Banty—were next seen in the southern part of the State. They took up their abode at Jimson Bend, and deported themselves with a view to making friends. It was generally conceded that they were sae enouga fellows, as fellows went, but had og’s luck. The boys stood by them, the more readily be cause of their manifest gratitude for thé slightest favors, and reluctance to accept more than would relieve their absolute necessities, Finally they threw up the game, and struck] out ona prospecting trip, to see, they said, that would break up their streak of infernal luck, They had been gone two weeks, when a ve rs brisk and business-like gentleman presented » nee at me Kee he e recognize in him our old friend Jakey. 5 He had been transformed. He was now & j keen-eyed speculator, with a briskness which ea - !
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_ promised that if he took hold of a thing, he ae ta would put it through with a rush. At Jimson Bend there were three partners who had the reputation of having made one series of lucky strikes from the time they had passed the Golden Gate. They were all ignorant men, who had reached middle life, working as common laborers. They now dreamed of dying bonanza kings, The were running the best-paying mine in the camp. Three days after striking the place, Jakey had bought an eighth interest in the mine, and by his fluent tongue had impressed his new pards with the belief that he was aman with the breadth of ideas which would aid them in ex- tending their enterprises to a scale justified by their wealth. They discussed the matter among themselves. They would oe the business in their own hands, but would let him in just enough to profit by his shrewdness, They were not toe first men who have entered upon this game of wits, with an apparently ** dead sure thing.” For a week these men lived in a fairy-land, in which Jakey possessed a magic wand. His head teemed with enterprises, the success of which he proved to a demonstration. y the end of the week he had the three “in his pocket.” He was their good genius. They only waited for him to decide among the abund- ance of good things that offered. Then Banty returned to the camp alone. He had come for provisions, he said, and he bought the simplest, figuring to eke out his seant store of gold dust. He wore a very long face, talked but little but that little to the effect that he and his pard were still pulling against the stream. While he was making his purchases, Jakey entered the general store. ‘Don’t I see you before, my frient?” he asked, bowing and smiling as Banty turned to see who dressed him. ' Banty stared at him without a sign of recog- nition. ‘* No!” he replied, with a frown. And without more ado he gathered up his scant provisions and left the store. The smile of Jakey’s face merged into a look of intense keenness. His lips fell apart; his eyes contracted; he thrust his head forward like ahound scenting something in the air; as he stared after the departing Banty. Then he cast a quick look about on the men among whom was one of his pards. An instant his gaze lingered upon this man’s eyes with an -* intensity that was a signal. Then he too passed out of the store, without a further word. “What d’ye make o’ that?” asked one of the loungers. ‘**He has seen him. You bet yer pile on that.” ‘* Whar?” “How should I know? All I say is, Banty didn’t want to know him.” “ Why not?” **Do ye think I’m a walkin’ bureau of infor- NG mation? You'd better ask Banty.” 4 -¢ “How’s that, Mallory?’—addressing Jakey’s pard. “Faith! it’s by me. Pitch the thrump yer- self. But, come, b’ys!—we’ll clinch the nail, and then it’s mesilf as’ll be goin’.” Having drank a final good-luck, he lounged out, and sought his pards, He found them and Jakey in astate of high excitement, “Come in! come in!” cried the latter, almost dragging him into the shanty. ‘“‘Ve haf nota minute to lose! There may be millions in it!” CHAPTER VI. : ; A SECRET POCKET, It was pany 3 one of those seasons of mania when any man, breakfasting with his pick and pan, a week’s provisions, and enough gold-dust to assure him of sustenance for another week or two, would have refused to sell at any price his Sh -. A rumor of a lucky find in an % poe ig: ” bom, a away wi chance of making a ten-thousand-dollar strike before supper. spot, was enough to cause a general stampede for the new ‘digging for fifty miles round, pene! sora ae bye ort Faget Fg on airly in among his exci s who gathered Showd hess Mberllins chowl aaneise, ) _ “ Who vas dot fellow?’ asked Jakey, holding on to his as if he feared that he would get out telling him. was it, Mallory? Any one we know?” urged the other two. _ “That poor divil, Banty,” replied Mallory. te Jim Gladden’s Deputy. ‘* Poor teffle!” cried Jakey, scornfully. ‘‘Say rich teffle! He is fooling usall. Vatfor is he sneaking about, buying a little here, a little there? i saw him ten days ago at Cinnamon Bar, laying in supplies in a sly vay dot put me on to him. But he gave me the slip. Don’t you see how he run away ven I challenged him? Now, I propose dot two of us trail him down. If he is as poor as he vould haf us believe, all right—ve know it den!” ‘“‘Tim Buckley’s the man fur ye, me boy!” cried Mallory, slapping one of his pards on the shoulder. After an animated discussion, it was decided that Tim and Jakey should find out whether there was.really anything mysterious about Banty’s movements, while Mallory and Reddy Scully remained at work at home. The first thing that Jakey directed Tim’s at- tention to, was the undeniable fact that Banty was moving about with a covert watchfulness, as if to discover whether he was being “ spot- ‘“‘Tf he drops to us, ve’re gone!” said Jakey, hastily drawing his companion behind a shanty, where they could see without being seen. Then began a series of maneuvers by which the Hebrew seemed to prove his detective abili- ty. He seemed to elude Banty’s observation, at the same time keeping track of him. When Banty left the camp, the spies were cn his trail. About noon on the following day he reached his destination, in the depths of a ravine which looked as if it had never before been visited by man. He announced his approach by a shout, which was responded to; and a moment later Cale Burchard made his appearance, running and waving bis hat about his head, while he cheered in a way that was too familiar in the mountain region to need interpretation. ‘He’s made a strike!” cried Jakey. “I'll bet showing his companion Look! look!” something over which he seemed greatly excited and delighted. He capered about, and slapped Banty on the back, and pointed in the direction whence he had come. Then Banty began to talk, while Cale sobered down. Soon he showed evidence of intense rage. He drew his revolver and flourished it about menacingly, while he looked back over Banty’s trail. ‘‘Vat you make of dot, eh?” cried Jakey, triumphantly to his companion. ‘* Well, Pm allowin’ that min don’t show so much Sant over an impty hole!” said Tim, sen- tentiously. His eyes began to glow with greed, and his jaw took a pugnacious set. He looked like a man who had made up his mind to use what- ever force was necessary to maintain his rights. ‘* Will we goin an’ stake out a claim undher their noses?” he asked. “*Ve'll see whether it’s worth while first,” said the Israelite. ‘‘ I ain’t throwing tine away without knowing whether there’s money in it. Keep at my elbow, and ve’ll gif ’em a surprise- party!” Cale and Banty went to a brush wickiup built you dot vas a nugget! Cale was evidentl directly under a cliff. Jakey and Tim moved forward, so as to pre- sent themselves at the opening of the rude struc- ture before they were discovered. ‘*Good-day, shentlemen!” said Jakey, with a grin of triumph. With startled oaths both the inmates whirled round to confront the intruders. But they were too late, if secrecy was their purpose; for there in plain sight, so that the eyes of both the men a in at the door fastened upon the spectacle with a gaze of greedy Gebighs, was a hoard of gold-dust and nuggets displayed on a flat stone, which the prospectors evidently used as a table, for eating and playing cards upon, ‘Blast yer eyes! What're ye doin’ hyar?” cried Cale, whipping his hand round to his hip. ‘“* That infernal sheeny!” fairly howled Banty, following the lead of his partner. But Jakey took matters quite coolly. : “Hold on, shentlemen!” he said. ‘‘ You vill not be so foolish as to oferlook de fact dot I haf de drop on both of you. Ve come here in peace ve go aver in pemne. But ve don’t stand still vile you blow the top of our heads off.” ‘*- You spied on me at Jimson Bend, an’ you’ve tracked me hyar!” cried Banty. ‘* A fool would know dot,” admitted Jakey. ‘ But dis is a free country—don’t it?” “Tll free ye, blast yer eyes!” “Tt’s a game that two can play at, me b’y!” said Tim, now “‘ taking a hand.” % >] Fume as they might, it was plain that both Cale and Banty suw that they were taken at a disadvantage. They wisely refrained from drawing their weapons. ‘‘Shust listen to reason,” said Jakey. ‘‘ You | have got a good ting, and kept it quiet as long | as possible. Dot vas all right. Nobody blame | you for dot. Ve drop to your little racket. Dot vas our privilege. ‘* Now. maybe you'd like to plant us, and say not’?ing more about it. You can’t do dot little ting, my frients! Ve haf left a plain trail be- hind us, so dot, in case of an accident, if ve don’t turn up in two or t’ree days, our pards vill | drop in on you, and ask you vat you know about it! How you like dot?” Cale coal Banty growled roundly; but the He- brew’s shrewd arguments were unanswerable. ‘*Cheese it!” cried Cale, presently. ‘‘ Thar ain’t nothin’ in this hand. It’s your blasted keerlessness. lll bet my pile that you’ve been ona fool drunk, an’ give the thing away! I might ’a’ knowed it ’u’d turn out so!” Then followed a very natural quarrel between the discomfited pards. Banty maintained his innocence stoutly: but Cale remained sullenly incredulous, even after Jakey confirmed Banty’s statement. “Waal, what do you propose to do about it?” asked Cale, sweeping their hoard of treasure into a buckskin bag. ‘*Vat is chenerally done in such circum- stances,” said Jakey. ‘‘ Ve vant a finger in de ie. **T reckon, now,” said Cale, with a malignant scowl, ‘that you'll blow the thing; an’ we'll have the hull State a-tumblin’ in hyar inside of a week.” : ‘Ve are not such fools as dot,” said Jakey. ‘** Ve take a little look around; and if ve like it, maybe ve come here on de quiet—my pards an me. It vas shust so vell you take dot comfort- obey: You don’t vant de whole vorit.” examination, it appcnnen that Cale and Banty had possession of a very peculiar spot, the conformation of which Jakcy pointed out to his companion, discoursing upon ‘‘ indications ” and the ‘‘ outcrop” and “strike” of rocks with great learning and pines es There had been a waterfall just at this point, which had drained a quite extensive valley, fall- ing into a sort of bowl scooped out in the rock by the mighty forces of nature. In the still waters of the pool thus formed, the gold washed down from above had oppor- tunity to settle to the bottom. It was now filled with surface dirt from the amphitheater of sur- rounding cliffs, into which Cale and Banty had sunk a deep prospect hole, nearly to hard-pan, where they seemed to have found pay-dirt of un- usual richness, There was room for perhaps a dozen more promising claims in the pocket, though, as Jakey said, the original discoverers bad far the best of it it. They staked out all that the mining regula- tions would allow them to claim, bought a shovel of Cale and Banty at an extravagant price to leave upon it, in token of ownership, and then departed to fetch their pards to the spot. akey talked to Tim on their way back until he completely turned his head. Then he left him to descant on their wonderful luck to his pards, The three pards had rather ‘‘ taken Jakey in” in two serses. He had bought into a failing mine. It therefore now required little - suasion to induce them ‘to sell the mine at Jim- son Bend, which they were able to do to advant- e. *eThen they hied them to the new diggings, congratulating themselves on their lucky turn. They found the place fairly swarming with men! Cale, it appeared, had gone to Cinnamon Bar, got on a drunk, and ‘‘ blown” everything. Worse yet, their claims had been jumped by men who had the resolution to hold onto them. | In vain did they unge their prior claim. As if out of revenge, Cale and Banty pretended that they knew nothing of any such claim; and those in possession declared that there had been no signs of anything of the kind when they en- tered upon the land. Twelve stern-faced men stood around Cale and Banty, with looks which showed Pelz their determination to hold out against comers, Having left Jimson Bend without “ giving the thing away,” Jakey and his pards had no friends ppd rn them. “i os eo was a game of freeze out, in which they had got nipped. They drew apart for consultation. ° ay ce > + 2 4.22 a << ety 4 F Sd hyp tite a: . 7
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Jim Gladden’s Deputy. CHAPTER VII. ‘“SoLD”—THE MINE, OR THE MINERS? ALL the miners in the pocket now resumed their work, those who had recently started in pitching out the surface-dirt with a will, sure of the golden reward that awaited them at the bot- to m. Cale and Banty, meanwhile, were elevating and washing pay-dirt. The work went on merrily enough; but there was a look of quiet determination on the faces of all, as Jakey and his pards drew near, which showed that they would not bear interfering with. There were a lot of men already on the ground, and others were constantly arriving, who could get no place in the pocket. Some were staking out claims on the outside; others hung about the hole which had attracted them all to the spot, gazing wistfully at the lucky owners of the Last Chance—as Cale and his pard had called their mine. The discussion that went on about the hole was of we most extravagant sort. Every one laced kis estimate on the find; and every one had a story—each wilder than the last preceding —of lucky hits of a similar sort which had come under his personal notice. Jakey and his are gathered about Cale and Banty, and watched the process of washing. To old miners it was not a difficult task to es- timate fairly the yield; and this was rich enough to satisfy the most y: ‘‘ Pards,” said Jakey, when they had retired beyond earshot, ‘‘ suppose ye put in a bid for dot mine? Dere’s monish in it—I tell you! Shust ou come mitme. Ishow you somet’ing. I haf ke t my eyes open a leedle,” e took them about, showing them the lay of the land above, and ohees how a rich deposit must be the inevitable result. “‘Dey haven’t got de best of dot yet,” he said, confidently. ‘‘ Vait till dey strike hard-pan! If ve go in now, ve can buy dot out for half vat it is vorth.” After considerable discussion it was concluded to make an offer for the mine, allowing Jakey to do the ge sharers They were willing to Ag as high as thirty thousand dollars, though all felt that that would a bargain. ‘Vell, shentlemen,” said Jakey, presenting himself before his real pards, “*ve like to haf a leddle business mit you.” ‘‘ Our biz is right byar, an’ we’re hard at it,” said Cale, bluntly. **Maybe you like to sell dot mine?” “Sell nothin’! When you’ve got a good ass keep it! That’s my motto,” “But you are here like de rest of us—to make monish. Dot may play out in t’ree days. If ou haf a sure t’ing in your pocket, you can ry dot den.” * Play out?’ Cale gave a snort of disgust, and worked away the harder, not ——s a look at the man who dare insinuate anything to the discredit of the Last Chance. “Dot's all right,” insisted Jakey. ‘I haf seen..a man hang on to a t’ing, and come out of de leedle end of de horn. Vat you tink dot mine vorth, eh?” ‘1t’s worth a hundred thousand dollars!” said Cale, with the air of a man who was talking at random because he did not wish to be bothered. ‘It’s worth a good deal more than you've got to pay fur it,” he added, more soberly. ‘*-You don’t know dot,” said Jakey, taking matters coolly. ‘‘ Maybe og pardner haf somet’ing to say about dot. Eh, my frient? Vat you tink?” ‘Cale does the bargainin’ fur this crowd,” said Banty. ‘‘Tf he says sell, an’ we kin git a fair stake, I say sell, too. But I ain’t sweatin’ fur it, ye onderstand.” ‘* Maybe it’s better ve go into your vickiup,” ited Jakey, ‘Sand ve strike a leedle bar- n, I bet you!’ Cale rose, balancing in his hand the dipper with which he had been at work, and looking at his pard oe are" “What d’ye say “What do you say?” ‘* But it’s our first strike, after the dirtiest luck that men ever had.” ‘*Tt’s the turn. We may drop onto somethin’ jest as good agin.” “Dot’s so!” interposed Jakey, eagerly. ‘I know a man vat had dot shust like you. Ach Gott! vat luck!” And he threw up his hands and skook his head, as if it were past description. “Vell, dot man he make it von day. Den he sell dot oud; and dot company vat buy dot don’t make a bloody cent out o’ dot mine! But dot makes noting mit him. He has got his monish in his pockets, and he keeps it dere!” But this was too plainly the invention of a man who was hungry for a bargain. Cale seemed to accept it for what it was worth. oe pon Nom we ought to stand by our luck,” he said to Banty. ‘ It’s worth as much to us as to anybody.” ‘“‘A bird -in the hand don’t turn any man’s stomach,” said Banty. It was plain that he was for selling. ‘“Waal, come along, an’ we'll talk it over, anyway,” said Cale, seeming to come to a sud- den decision. - Then Jakey smiled and fawned upon him. He tendered his canteen, as ap opening cere- mony. ‘““Waal, what’s the thing worth to you?” asked Cale, when they were away from the curi- ous crowd, Then began a sharp match at chaffering. Jakey never relaxed his smile, except to throw up his hands and elevate his brows in amaze- ment at the exorbitant expectations of the own- ers of the Last Chance. It was avery good mine as mines went, no doubt. He wouldn’t be trying to buy it if he didn’t believe that. But then, there was a rea- sonable limit to everything. The yield might play out the very next day. It was as good as gambling to buy a mine of any sort, however promising. “Put up fifty thousand ag’in’ it, an’ Pll play you fur the lot at draw poker!” cried ale. But Jakey wasn’t a gambling man. He was on the buy, fair and square. He would pay them twenty-five thousand cash in hand, and relieve them of all risk. Cale declared that he’d see Jakey and his crowd in exceedingly uncomfortable quarters before he’d throw the thing away for any such money. ‘*Tt’s plain that we can’t trade with you, gents,” he said. ‘‘An’ you bet yer bottom dollar we don’t propose to throw away any more time chinnin’ with ye, neither! Come along, Banty!” And they walked off like men who had been robbed of just so much precious time to no pur- pose. Jakey was left with his s. ‘*Tt’s no go,” he said. “ Ve’ll have to come down mit dot tirty t’ousand; and maybe dot von’t fetch it.” The pards were now eager at thirty thousand. The thing began to look more and more valu- able as it promised to slip through their fingers. They went over the ground again. Jakey en- larg on all the points. ‘* If I had dot monish of my own,” he cried at last, slapping his thigh, ‘‘ I don’t stop at dot!” “Faith, what'll we do if we don't sthrike a dicker wid ’um?” asked Scully. ‘ We're sold out everywhere,” said Tim, with a disconsolate look about. ‘Go the thirty thousand,” said Mallory. Wd said dot before,” observed Jakey, with a smile. ‘* Blow me tight if I think thirty-five would be too much fur it!” declared Tim, with sudden resolution. ‘Dot vas vat I tink, if it vas my monish,” said Jakey; adding, modestly: ‘* But you know pards, dot I haf so leedle to put in de t/ing. i go my pile on it.” And he shrugged his shoulders, as who would say: ‘Can I do more?” ‘Fifteen hundred,” he added. ‘‘ Dot make me less than vone twentieth. You see, I don’t stake so much as you. I don’t like to urge you. If it don’t turn out all right, you come back on me, and blame me for dot I crowd you into it.” But at the slightest hint at a failure of the mine, those whom he had hed so well a few minutes before championed it as vehemently as if it were already their own. “Do yer best on thirty, Jakey,” said Mallory. “Ts that agreed, pards?” They all agreed to that, with the implication that a raise of five more was to be made, if un- avoidable. On this understanding, Jakey resumed the battle; and now he seemed to lay himself out. His pards all acquitted him of blame that the thirty thousand failed to ‘‘go.” One and all agreed that they had never seen such dickering. But Cale and Banty had stood out with inflexi- ble resolution. Finally they began to show signs of throwing up the whole negotiation in a rage. Then Jakey glanced at Mallory, as if to inti- mate that he had done all that could be done. Mallory nodded, and Jakey then said: ‘‘Shentlemen, ve gif you thirty-five thousand. Ve count out de monish. Off you like to take dot, all right.” ‘““We don’t want yer money! cried Cale. Jakey coolly turned to his pards, as if no oppo- sition bad been made. They, with considerable nervousness, removed broad belts, supported from the shoulders by straps like suspenders. From them Jakey deliberately took a lot of little buckskin bags, and arranged them in rows on the stone table on which he and Tim had seen Cale’s gold displayed, when they looked into the wickiup and surprised its occupants. ‘*Shentlemen,” he then said, “‘ there is a hun- dred and twenty-five pounds of gold-dust. How long vill it take you to dig dot much out of your mine?” Banty stared greedily at the gold. There was need for dissimulation here. Cale, too, was un- mistakably moved. ‘* What d’ye say?” he cried, turning to Banty, ‘* Done!” said Banty. ‘““Wemay make a hundred thousand out of it!” urged Cale, but weakly. “* Done!” repeated beat ‘‘Done!” reiterated Cale; striking his fist on the stone. : The gold was carefully weighed out, and the transfer completed before witnesses. Then, and not till then, Jakey took off his hat, and swinging it about his head, said: ‘* Hip! hip!” And catching the infection, his pards—Mal- lory and Buckley and Scully—yelled out a united cheer. Cale and Banty could scarcely refrain from joining them! ‘*Waal, gents,” said Cale, ‘‘now we've got this cl’ar, it’s the only strike we've made sense we've been in the mines; an’ I, fur one, am goin’ to quit the business. I’ve made my pile—enough to keep me an’ the ole woman comfortable fur the rest of our days—an’ I propose to make a bee-line fur ’Frisco, before I lose what I’ve got.” Both he and Banty were supplied with horses, They put their gold in secure saddle-bags, and rode away. Far out of reach of listening ears, Cale turned to his pard: “ Banty, ef they ever drop to him, Jakey’s a goner!” ‘* We won't be thar!” was Banty’s summing up of the situation. Cale threw back his head with a hoarse laugh; and digging their spurs into their horses’ flanks, they rode on like the wind. Clear out!” oe CHAPTER VIII. A PINCH OF SALT. ALL went merrily at the new diggings for about twenty-four hours. Then there was a sudden ‘‘ drop;” and a circle of eager faces mean about the ‘‘ long tom” with which Jakey and his three lucky pards were washing out the gold of their new venture. ‘‘Pards,” Jakey declared, solemnly, ‘‘ dere ain’t a grain since de last clean-up!” The three lucky pards stood round with faces almost as long as the “‘ tom,” and looked down at the riffle-bars in mute dismay. “Thayre must be some!” insisted Reddy Scully, presently, in a desperate tone. ‘* You see for yourself.” Mallory took the iron spoon, and scraped the riffles, though it was plain to be seen that they were clean. “Run some more dirt through,” suggested Tim Buckley. : And at the holding forth of this forlorn hope, which all secretly felt to be futile, the three rushed off to the hole, and fell to work like crazy men. The crowd took the contagion, and added their efforts to those of the men immediately inter- ested: and for twenty minutes that long tom was run to its full capacity. The dirt washed out clean. There was not @ “show of color.” The men who, the day before, had put thirty- five thousand dollars into the venture, with bounding nopes, now stared stupidly at the empty riffle-box! Sweat was streaming from their faces. They were as pale as death—as e as the gambler who sees a fortune swept out of his grasp by the turn of a card! ‘i !
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Jim Gladden’s Deputy. In the dead hush that rested on the crowd, somebody uttered an ominous word. “ce Salt }?? The pards looked up piteously, as if this ver- dict were cruel to them. Jake} cried out, as in desperate protest: “No, no! Dot can’t be! See! dere is effery indication! Shust look at de lay of de land.” And as if his tongue were winged, he went over again the ee he had called the attention of his pards to before the purchase. “You've got everything hyar but the dust,” said an old miner. ‘‘I ‘low it fooled me. But I’ve seen the like o’ this before in my time,” He turned toa grou of men who had come up from Jimson Bend, and who, like himself, had helped Cale and Banty, when it seemed as if they were the victims of dog's luck, ‘*Gents,” he said, coolly, ‘* them scalawags bas played roots on us, for a sure-enouga fact. We air all in the same boat, Thar ain’t no use hangin’ out hyarnolonger. Thefu’st man back to Jimson Bend is the best off.” “*But are we to be tuck in the loike o’ this?” cried Reddy Scully, his face suddenly flaming as red as his hair. The miner from the Bend shrugged his shoul- ers. ‘The thing’s done,” he said, laconically. But Jakey appeared fairly beside himself with rage. “fl By shiminetta!” he cried, ‘‘ dey don’t do dot leetle ting. Ve haf horses like dem rascals! Ve go after dem, unt got dot monish back. Come, pards!” He ran away to where the horses were picket- ed, and frantically threw himself upon the back of the best of them, without stopping to put on the saddle. Durin comers ket. They were met with the assurance that they might as well turn about without loss of time. The jig was up. They would find nothing there but a salted mine and a badly sold community. ** An’ we dog-gone fools has hoofed it all the way from Sundown!” cried the leader of the wg, Roti oe gang, with comical ruefulness. ‘“*Cale?—Banty?” he said, a moment later, catching the names from the random ‘discussion that was going on about him. ‘‘ What fur galoots was them—say, now.” On receiving their description, he looked at his comrades, and then threw his head back with a roar. ‘The Sunday School Class!” he cried, as soon as he could fetch breath. ** You bet!” corroborated one of his compan- ons. “The which?’ asked the miner from Jimson nd, ‘‘ Waal, gents, they floored Sundown fur the whisky--beautiful! beautiful! But, say, didn’t they have a sheeny along?” ek ove Af ‘Hello! Blow me, ef— Say, Toby, what's that thar?” * As sure as a gun!” ** Ain’t it, though?” And the boss of the Sundown gang out with his revolver, and without a word further in ex- planation, let fly several shots in rapid succes- sion, ‘Hold on! What’s this hyar? That’s one o’ the lucky pards you’re a-pepperin’!” ‘Lucky nothin’! it’s cheek! After him, boys! He'll git away with a whole hide, as his pards has with the plunder!” All was wild confusion. Jakey was dashing out of the pocket, plying heels and halter-stra and voice to goad his horse to its highest apeed. The men from Sundown were sending a hail of bullets after him, The others stared open- this exciting scene a squad of new- ad made their appearance in the _ mouthed, not comprehending the situation. At last one ‘‘ dropped.” ‘Why, it’s a sell all round!” he cried, ‘‘ That blasted sheeny was in with Cale an’ Banty!” ** Ain’t he though?’ cried the Man from Sun- down. ‘“‘Have you got a hoss what'll ketch that thar one what he’s a-straddlin’? I'll bet my ile you hain’t,” ‘That’s the best hoss in this section, stranger; an’ I'll bet on it. I owned him myself.” ‘ ““Good-by John!” said the Man from Sun- own. But che three lucky pards—Mallory, Buckle and Scully—when they realized hos} badl rtd had been taken in, were frantic. Two of them ate, while one of them ran afoot, giving ourselves easy, boys,” said the Man . ‘They'll be back when they He proved a true prophet. Some hours later, long after nightfall, the defrauded men found | their way back to the camp. | There was nothing lovely about them at their | They were now savage with baffled | | best. rage. Dogeedly they listened to the little incident | which the men of Sundown narrated with off- hand good nature. “Boys,” said Tim Buckley, between his set teeth, ‘‘1 want somethin’ jest now worse than Liver wanted the gold-dust. I want revenge!” ‘* An’ we're the boys as’ll have it!” cried | Scully. “*So we will!” assented Mallory. They clasped hands, as men bind themselves by oath. “*Tt’s three ag’in’ three!” said Scully. ‘*Whin we’re done, may thayre be enough of us left to bury the last o’ them!” said Mallory. And on the following morning they set out in pursuit of the men who had swindled them. CHAPTER IX. MR. ISAAC SALOMANS ‘‘ON DECK.” AND now we are back in Paddy's Flat; and | just in time for fun, to judge from appear- | ances. In and out of the Terpsichorean Hall, kept by one Dinny McGee, swarms a restless multi- tude of thirsty mortals; and before that classic rtal the same crowd interweaves ceaselessly, eeping up a constant buzz of eager conversa- tion. Jim Gladden stands there with a crimson- corded baton and a silver shield, the insignia of his office. Beside him stands his deputy, Harry Keene, excitement and pride but thinly disguised by an air of affected ease. From time to time his eye alone has detect- ed a scarcely perceptible flutter of the white curtain that screens the window above the door of old Abraham’s store. She is watching him! what palpitating delight. Jim has no occasion to complain of the be- havior of his deputy, though he occasionally frowns as some one of his posse mutters a half intelligible excuse, and breaks from the ranks, always to dive into the saloon door. Next to this select body of men stands a much larger one, its members distinguished by an at- tempt at a uniform, in that each man wears a red shirt of some kind. But they are of all shades and conditions. Long wear has turned most of them purpl:. This is the fire department of Paddy’s Flat, and on parade day no man is allowed to wear a red shirt who is not a member of the organiza- tion. At the head of the company always march four men abreast, with gleaming axes on their shoulders. Next come four men bearing a long pole, with a ne iron hook at the end, anda rope attached. They are followed by four more with a ladder. The rest gl fire buckets. Just now the hook and der are “stacked” in most imposing style; and most of the buckets are standing on the ground, to mark the place their bearers should occupy. It is generally understood that the absentees can be found when wanted at the bar of Dinny McGee’s dance-hall. But we have reserved the especial glory of the fire department for the last—a certain crimson silken banner, the workmanship of “ the ladies,” won by the boys in a wrestling, running and jumping match with the fire departments of a If dozen adjoining camps. This banner was the champion prize of a early tournament. Paddy’s t had borne it off the field for two successive years; and every man was sworn to die before he let it pass into other bands. So far no tournament had passed off with- out a dozen bloody fights, and profane charges of foul-play without stint. ere was a con- stant menace that out of the grudges there en- gendered would result mortal combats in duello, if not a general war between rival camps. However, these sports were adapted to the He knows it, and with people. The prize banner was borne by the tallest man in the company, its silken cords proudly held on either side by Tom Murphy roe Dick Johnson. Suddenly Jim Gladden waved his baton, and shouted: ‘* Fall in, men! fall in!” Then there was a pell-mell struggle through the door of the saloon, a scurrying hither and yon, and the men got into place, “ Forward march!” 7 And the procession moved out of the camp along the mountain road. Of course every male member of the camp, save those who were detained at their posts by business, straggled along beside the procession; and a cur that barked furiously at the sound of the fife and drum got a kick, and went off yelp- ing. A mile from the camp the men were brought to a halt. After an hour’s waiting, just when everybody had come to concur in the sentiment that it was **a long time between drinks,” the ringing crack of a stage-driver’s whip, coming from far up the mountain, electrified one and all, Then there was a hasty reforming of ranks. The fire department separated, standing on eith- | er side of the road, with the crowd back of them. All eyes were fixed on a point across a deep gulf, round which came the mountain road in the form of a horseshoe. A dark object was seen to leap into view against the sky; then, with a furious rattle of wheels and an eddying cloud of dust following in its wake, the Overland stage-coach came down the ‘‘ grade” on the wings of the wind! Cheer after cheer startled crag and canyon. The men seemed to go wild. Such lusty yells never were heard save from the throats of just such men. Finally, in a way that to an unaccustomed eye would have seemed to threaten the life of every one concerned, the coach was brought up in the midst of the howling crowd; and Jim Gladden stood shaking bands witha }: lly old fellow, with a fiery red face which bespoke no end of whisky toddies, who waved his hat, smil- ingeet bowing, from the door of the coach. : arry Keene was almost overcome at the glowing terms in which he was presented to Judge Owney Maglochlin. ** We have two prisoners for you captured by his own hand,” said Jim Gladden. “Has he?” cried the judge, with a look of wee surprise, as he shook the young deputy’s and in his oleaginous ;aw. ‘ Be me sow], he’s afoine labd! An’ it’s a bitof a bangman we'll be afther makin’ o’ yez, wan 0’ these days!” But, looking past the speaker, Harry had caught sight of the face of another occupant of the coach, It was a dark face, yet not ill-looking. On the contrary, it was rather striking for its Hebrew comeliness, But its owner looked at Harry with a smile that turned the blood back on the boy’s heart. ‘Who can he be?” asked the deputy, of bim- self. ‘‘ Where bave I seen him before? At any rate, his coming bere bodes me no Bs ode ad = I begin to feel as if I was destined to ave a bout with him, of some sort.” _ Mr. Isaac Saloman was at the same time think- g: **Dot’s de little rooster! Vell, I'll clip his spurs for him before he’s much older!” CHAPTER X. FACE TO FACE. THERE were two other occupants of the coach. ‘* Gintlemen,” said the judge, with a wave of his pudgy hand in their direction, ‘‘ let me in- throjuce the honorable mimbers o’ the har—both bars!” he interpolated, with a wink—‘ Colonel Blood and Milton Midge, Esq. ‘*These gintlemen swap lies, fur to kape hon- est men in jail, an’ get rogues off,” he added. It was plain that he never spoiled a joke to spare a friend. One was a man of ponderous build, with, seem- ingly, the good nature of a Newfoundland dog. The other was a little whippersnapper, who puffed out his breast with the important air which often goes with diminutive stature. “T have the honor, sir, to present you with my card!” And the little colonel drew a bit of pasteboard from his vest pocket between the first and mid- dle fingers, and thrust it at Jim Gladden with a motion as if he were dropping a dueling pistol into line. **Colonel Blood, at your service!” he said. “Tt does me proud to welcome you to Paddy’s Flat,” said Gladden, with all due gravity. “Tf you have any rascals to put through, I dedicate my modest abilities to the service of the State!” said the colonel. “As prosecutin’ attorney, the colonel’s» the divil!” was the judge’s indorsement. In contrast with the little colonel’s self-impor- tance, Mr. Midge, who was lolling like a lazy giant, contented himself with a familiar nod and a pleasant smile. Harry Keene took a liking to this man at once,
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serape of his foot. Jim Gladden’s Deputy. ble,” he reflected. He had an odd feeling that he himself might have to rely upon Mr, Midge. Accompanying this feeling was a wave of strong dislike toward the dark stranger, who was now presented. ‘¢Misther Isaac Salomans,” said the judge. ‘*T’m free to say I’ve seen econ a worse fellow than the same, Whin he dhrinks wid yez, d’ye moind, he don’t foo! wid his liquor, but puts it down wid a swing that ’u’d do honor to Tipper- ary—be me sowl, it would!” he judge could give no higher praise than this. “Tt ain’t natural that the two should cotton together,” reflected Harry, with a strange sink- ing at his heart. ‘‘ That fellow is a knave; and he has been worming his way into the judge’s favor for no good. But Marshal Gladden was already reforming the broken ranks of his men. © The musicians and ax-bearers preceded, while the hook and ladder men marched on either side of the coach, and those carrying fire-buckets brought up the rear. Thus was the judge in his first circuit ushered into Paddy’s Flat, amid the wildest cheers. Of course he was ‘dined and wined” at the Golden Gate Hotel, to which the Terpsichorean Hall was an adjunct; and equally of course he ““went down the middle” with the belle of the ball, and chucked her under the chin, and called her ‘‘ a foine gerrul!” But that was later in the evening. Immediately after such a dinner as would have made the proverbial alderman loosen his waistband, he was taken out to look about the place, and especially to visit the *‘ calaboose.” Paddy's Flat was as proud of its new jail, as if it had been a free-stone town-hall. The fire department had dispersed, leaving the guests to be escorted by the marshal’s posse. Jim Gladden walked between Judge Owney Maglochlin and Colonel Blood; while his deputy escorted in the same manner Milton Midge, Esq., and Mr. Isaac Salomans; the posse fetch- sa, be the rear. ever had Harry felt his importance more. He was to march by the house of his inamorata in this grand state. Old Abrabam stood in his doorway, smiling and rubbing his hands, proud of Harry’s dis- tinction. Just as the procession passed bim, while he was bowing and Siem at Harry in token of his appreciation, he bs ge started with a gasp, threw up his hands, and turning ghastly pale, reeled, so that he fell against the door- st. At the same time Mr. Isaac Salomans, who was on the other side of Harry, leaned forward, and fixed his eyes on the old man with q smile of ruthless triumph. “Rebecca! Rebecca!” gasped the old mer- chant. And fumbl:ng blindly, he staggered through the door into his store. In his agony of fear, he fairly dragged her to the doorway, and pointed through it. Mr. Isaac Salomans looked at the old lady with the same expression that he had given her husband, She seemed turned to stone. Then, in wild panic, Abram sprung forward, slammed the store door, and locked it. Harry, with a face as white as his shirt— and he had donned a ‘‘ b’iled”” one in honor of the occasion—stared at Mr, Salomans, That gentleman looked directly into his face, with a smile and a bow. Now the boy saw in that mocking face what had haunted him. “ He is a relative of hers! Her—her—” But the words died in his heart, “Well?” queried Mr, Salomans. Harry bit his lip, but walked on in silence. ‘‘He ain’t of the common sort,” reflected Salomans. ‘‘He means mischief. He has it in him. I can see that. Ill have to watch him. And he’s deputy marshal of this little mud-hole!” j They went on to.the jail, where Judge Owney Maglochlin shook hands with the pris- oners and s apped them on the back, saying: ‘Faith, it’s foine lads ye are! Ye’ll hang aisy, me b’y!” * Tt’s mesilf that ’u’d rather die of owld age, av it’s all the same til yer honor!” replied an Irishman, with a tug at his forelock and a Sure, judge, dear, ye'll slape aisier wid the thoughts o’ l’avin’ a poor devil loike me time fur repintance.” ‘* Be aisy!” enjoined the judge. ‘Sleep, is it? “‘ He'll see a poor devil through, if it is possi- | Be me sowl, I’d b’lave I rest betther av I didn’t sleap so soundly.” ‘“Arrah, man dear! it’s not the haird heart ye have.” But another prisoner—a be ge who had re- cently undertaken to ‘paint the town red,” with the not unusual result of getting a citizen ‘‘ready for the spring planting ”—was not so chicken-hearted. ‘Ef this hyar sweet burg hain’t got the sand to furnish a new rope—which the same Eagle’s Roost sent my pard up the flume with a dirty piece o’ hemp that the devil wouldn’t have in his back yard fur a clothesline—then all I ask is that ye carry me over the ridge, so’s to plant me out 0’ sight of it!” ‘*Don't ye worry about that!” suggested the judge. ‘It’s not hemp we’re wantin’.” When the ceremony of inspecting the jail was over, and the judge had been escorted back to the Terpsichorean Hall, Harry took the first op- portunity to escape from his duty as an officer of the camp. He almost ran to old Abraham’s, It was with difficulty he gained admittance, He was cross-examined as to his identity through the door, and then inspected through a closely-curtained window, before ha was al- lowed to enter. Once inside, he saw that old Rebecca sat with her a:ron thrown over her head, rocking her body to and fro, and moaning in distress, while Miriam stood white and trembling, her eyes round with terror. At sight of him she pressed her hands upon her bosom, with a gasping sigh; but her face was irradiated. . Her eyes told him that she felt safe, now that he was come. But old Abraham threw his arms about the boy’s neck, and fell upon his breast, weeping. “Ve are lost! lost! lost! Ach, mine Gott in himmel! vat has come upon us now!” CHAPTER XI. PLANNING FLIGHT. ‘“ What is the matter? Who is this man that you all seem to fear so?’ asked our hero. But old Abraham only tore at his beard, after the traditions of his people, abandoning himself to utter despair. In vain did Harry assure him that he—not powerless as deputy marshal of the camp— would stand by his friends. ‘* Who is it, Miriam?” he asked, going up to er. She shrunk trembling from his approach—not in fear of him, but with maiden coyness. Her modest eyelids hid the tenderness that glowed in her eyes. ‘“‘Kind shentleman, I do not know,” she re- plied. ‘‘ It is a bitter enemy of my dear mamma and papa. Ah, sure, they could harm no one. Who— ‘*Miriam! Miriam! dis is not for you!” cried old Abraham, so excited that he seemed angry. “Go to your room!” Then seeing, by her look of amazement, that for the first time in his life he had spoken roughly to her, he threw his arms about her, and burst into tears and sobs, “Ah! my child, my dear child!” he cried kissing her cold cheek, ‘‘ have I effer gifen you anyt’ing but love? Go, go, my dear; dis is not for you, I vill safe you if I can. Go, go!” She clung to him a moment, calling him en- dearing epithets, and assuring him tbat she did not doubt his love. “ But trust in de kint shentleman. He will safe us!” she whispered. As she said this, she tightened her clasp about the old man’s neck, and kissed him on the ear into which she thus breathed the secret of her inmost heart. Then, with her cheeks aflame, and not daring so much as a single glance at him whom she had really caressed by proxy, she ran up the stair- wav, to her room. “ What is this mystery?” demanded the boy. ‘* Ah, my frient!” sighed old Abraham, ‘ I vill let you into de secret of my life. He is her father!” “Her father!—Miriam’s father?” **Not so loud!—not so loud! Vould you be- tray me to her?” and in wild panic the old man fairly covered Harry’s mouth with his hand. ‘But Ido not understand you. Her father; and she does not know it?” ” You judge me. You think I have wronged er. ‘“Wronged her!” cried Harry, flaming with indignation. ‘She calls you father. She gives you the love and duty of a daughter. How dare you perpetrate such a fraud upon her?” ee eS Se ee a “Yes, yes!” assented Abraham, humbly, — “ But,” he added, with a mournful dignity that Harry could not but be impressed by, “Tha , iven her a love she would never have known ~ rom her real parent. Besides, dere isde tie of blood between us. She is my granddaughter.” ‘* Why have you represented the relation dif- ferently to her?” ‘se ‘*'To spare her pain. When she asked for her father, could I tell her: He is a scoundrel; you shall not think of him?” } ‘* What has he done?” ‘*Done?” cried the old man, drawing himself __ up with clinched hands and’ dilating nostrils, ‘© What has he left undone? You see mein hid- ing from him—here in a strange land, far from my kindred, away from every frieut. Do you think dot I come here for monish? Ah, yes! they say a Jew vould sell his soul for gold!” ever had Harry heard anything so bitteras the tone in which the old Hebrew repeated this Christian slander against his race. . ‘“There are good Christians and bad Chris- : tians; but all Jews must be cheats and misers!” ‘“But I do not feel so!” protested Harry, his thought going out to Miriam in generous indig- nation. For the moment he believed that he had never shared in this contemptuous opinion. ‘* What has he done?” resumed old Abraham, ‘* He killed her mother.” ‘* Killed her mother!” ‘* Mit a knife?—mit a pistol?—mit a bludgeon? Oh, no! He did not so much as strike her, I think. The law would find not’ing to con- — demn. But he broke her heart; he tortured her into the grave. ae ** Look! look!” cried the old man, his passion- . ate recollection of the past bearing him out of himself, until he bad something of the grandeur of manhood never otherwise manif , Save in his tenderness for his grandcbild. ‘You have seen what a flower she is—how she lived but upon the sunsbine of love. To her it is meat, drink, warmth, brightness, her very existence! Well, such as she, was her mother. He came. He possessed her. She withered, like a flower in the scorching sun. Dying, she gave her child into my arms, adjuring me to stand between it and the misery that had blighted her life.” By this time Harry was fully in sympathy with the passionate old man. ‘* He shall not touch her!” he said, through h set teeth. * a “The law vill gif her to him!” said theold ~ Jew, dejectedly. “Law or no law, he shall not touch her!” reiterated our hero. “I will kill him first!” He meant that. He was ready to fighttothe death for her. i Old Abraham shook his head. ees. “Dot vill not do. You donot know. Delaw \ nn lll is not de vorst ve Laf to fear,” eo 4 ks ‘“* What then?” ™ ** Miriam.” x “Miriam?” . ** Miriam!” ‘ ee ‘““But what have we to fear from her?” 5 “She vill goto him.” | ‘That monster?’ ‘¢ Her father.” ‘ Mek ‘* But the murderer of her mother!” oe “Can you tell her dot?” 1% “Why not? Anything to save her, You — should have been frank with her from the first. — There could have been no need of deceiving her.” ~ **You don’t know her. Sheisan Israelite!” _ As he spoke, old Abraham drew himself up _ re a look of haughty scorn that transfi a im. nie It was plain that he was contrasting bisown race with the race that had heaped so much © contumely upon them. tan ‘* Honor thy father and thy mother!” he went on. ‘ We teach ourchildren dot. He villsay— — Come! She vill go!” . “But this is monstrous!” cried Harry, his — heart in his throat. sae Was it possible that she might carry filial dutv even tothe point of making it second to the love for him which he believed he had read in hereyes? _ tae He thongbt of the day when she had kissed — him. It had not been repeated since then. She seemed so sacred in her V innocence, that — he had not dared to venture again on react ; familiarity. Yet, whenever he chose, m ; could revive the ec of that moment, and he could feel again the velvety pressure of her — warm lips upon his. ; ; fa “ There is but one way,” said old Abraham, _ ‘She must not know.” ee. He will tell ber all.” — s ml ‘But he will claim her, ** He must not have the chance,
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cd ne ee eee fe yn ee Peay oe” SSA & Jim Gladden’s Deputy. 9 ** How can we prevent it?” ‘** By flying with her at once.” »‘* To-night?”’ ‘Garry’s heart gave a great bound. He was to be her protector! He was to save her from an unknown terror! She could not withhold her heart from him after that. Once away, he would not have the interposition of her father to fear; and he would work upon the fears of the old people, to overcome their prejudice against her marrying outside of her own race and religion, and to induce them to give him a legal right to protect her—a claim upon her which would come even before that of a father. “*Tt can be done!” he cried. ‘‘It shall be done! Get everything in readiness. I will look to everything outside—horses for flight, and hands that will defy him and all the lawyers he can muster!” He wrung the old man’s hand; he patted the old lady on the back, assuring her that she could tie to him, and he would see her through. ** Ah, you gif me new life!” she said, cling- “eo his hands, so brave and strong. To his infinite embarrassment, she even bent and kissed his hands with gratitude, leaving a tear upon them. His heart swelled. He loved this kindly old couple. How they depended upon him—Rebecca on one side, and old Abraham on the other. But he wanted one thing more. Before set- ting out on his new enterprise, he longed to feel the clasp of the soft, warm hands of the girl he loved. He hungered to gaze into her eyes, glis- tening with admiration and gratitude—to hear her low voice tell her confidence in him. ‘Call Miriam down. Let me see her a minute,” he asked. She came, like a timid fawn. Harry trembled fully as much as she did, as she approached him. Both of the old people poured his praises into her eager ears, until his ears tingled with em- barrassment, He reached forth and took both the hands that fluttered into his, ‘* Miriam,” he said, ‘I am going to take you away. Are you afraid to go with me?” ‘** With you?” she breathed, her eyes distending with wonder. The plan of their flight had flashed upon him all at once, while he was waiting for her to come down-stairs. He had not consulted Abra- ham; but he out with it as boldly as if it were all arranged. ‘** Your father will have to stay behind to pro- tect your mother. Sheis too old to ride as we shall have to—for several days, with scarcely any rest. You are young; and that makes a difference, When you are in safety, I will re- turn and fetch your parents, Everything de pends upon the swiftness and secrecy of our movements.” Old Abraham’s jaw dropped. He had never dreamed of leaving the girl to this young Loch- invar. But, maturing his plan as he went along, Harry proved that this gave almost the only hope of success. n the end he carried bis point, without any opposition which the girl perceived. nd she? She blushed divinely, as, in a voice scarcely above a whisper, she told him that she feared nothing with him. Had not her parents, in their gratitude, seconded her own heart? But, as he let him out of the back door, old Abraham clung to his hand. ‘*T trust you with more than my life,” he said, ina husky voice. ‘God will avenge the inno- cent, if—if—” “That will do!” interrupted Harry, with the prompt indignation of a chivalrous nature. “She is as safe with meas with you. One of these days you will believe that, if you do not now “T do!—I do!” cried the old man. “God bless you, my son!—God bless you!” And the boy went out into the night. CHAPTER XII. “DRAWING EYE-TEETH,” “Hatto, Hal! Jest my size! Step this wey ” t was Jim Gladden’s voice; and for the first time since he had known it, Harry’s heart sunk at the sound of it. ‘** What's wanted?” he asked, going forward, “A paper to sarve. Got up in A No.1 style, with all the flourishes an’ red tape. Who says s Paddy’s Flat ain’t a-boomin’? Jim was aglow with pride. As he flourished a document which Harry’s yes followed apprehensively, his exuberant ed eee ee OO ie} feelings sought a very characteristic Western vent. Striking his sides repeatedly with his el- bows, he gave utterance to as lusty a crow as ever issued from,a barnyard. ‘* A paper?” repeated Harry, faintly. ‘‘ What sort of a paper?” ‘* A writ of habeas corpus! The fu’st one issued by the court in Paddy’s Flat! I hada sneakin’ notion fur to sarve it myself, bein’s as it was the fu’st; but I ‘low as it’s the proper caper fur to make these hyar leetle p’ints by deputy. Then ag’in, bein’s as how you had a bigger stake on this hyar turn than anybody else, [ reckoned as it ’u'd be the square thing to give you a show.” ‘* T have an interest in it?’ Harry’s voice trembled. He knew what was coming. *“*Oh! you can’t close my eyes!” cried Jim, gayly. ‘‘D’ye think I don’t see what’s goin’ on directly under my nose? Waal, I reckon!” And making a facetious sound at the base of his tongue which cannot be represented by let- ters, but with which every one is familiar, he poked the boys in the ribs with his finger. ‘* What do you mean?” asked Harry. “That you’re goin’ fur to have a dog-goned sight better-lookin’ father-in-law than you ‘lowed to!” declared Jim, with a wink. ‘* A father-in-law?’ repeated our hero, fight- ing shy to no purpose. ‘What d’ye think that ole fraud has been up to?” asked Jim, with a sudden change to indig- nation. Harry knew that, if he was to steal a march on Jim Gladden and all the others, he must not let it be seen that there was en understandin between him and old Abraham; so he persis in bis pretended ignorance, ‘* What fraud?” ‘“That blasted sheeny.” ** Abraham?” ** Ts thar any other?” ** What has he done?” ** Rung in a cold deal on this hyar hull bloom- in’ camp—the which we’re a sweet lot not to drop to sich a racket as that. The galoot as wouldn’t know as sich a rivky 3 chicken as that thar leetle sweetness couldn’t have sich an ole mummy fur its dam, ought to put his head to soak fur a month o’ Sundays!” “Are you talking about Mr.—Abraham’s daugh—” ‘* Abraham’s nothin’! He’s a double-distilled liar, all round! I’m talkin’ about Mr. Isaac Saloman’s daughter. He’s a sheeny, too—beg- in’ yer pardon!—but he’s upper-crust. An’ he’s havin’ mizhty white, considerin’. He might bring that ole humbug up with around turn, fur abduction. But what he’s after, he says, is the kid; an’ he’ll let the ole man off easy.” ** Then this summons—” “Commands Abraham Schlossmeyer to pro- duce the infant— Haw! haw! haw! a sweet ‘infant,’—eh? Blast their hides!—these hyar lawyers is constitutionally opposed to takin’ anythin’ straight but their whisky! To produce the infant, Miriam Salomans in open court, an’ show cause why he should detain her from her natural guardian, as aforesaid!” ‘*But not to-night!” cried Harry, seeing all his plans ruined by this promptness of his adver- sary. ‘‘It isthreatening astorm. You would not drag a young girl—” ** An’ sich a sweet one, at that, out in the wet, fur to melt?) Waal, I reckon ef you yank the ole man up before the jedge, he’ll let him go se- curity fur to chip in when his turn comes in the mornin’.” . ‘*Common decency would demand that,” said our hero, with warmth, ignoring the fact that he himself was meditating the thing he condemned. **T reckon the boys of this camp will stand off any man—” ““Why, consarn yer pictur’!” cried Jim, in 2 mage at the tone the boy had assumed, ‘I reckon. you don’t drop to this thing. It’s her dad, jest a-rollin’ in rocks, He'll give her an outfit that old fraud never would ’a’ dreamed ‘*Oh, yes,” said Harry, seeing his mistake. ‘* Well, give me the paper.” “ An’ ye waut to do it up in style. Take the hull posse along. Spread the thing out over as much ground as it'll cover.” Together they went to Terpsichorean Hall, where it was plain that Mr. Isaac Salomans had been ‘‘ making himself solid with the boys.” They were drinking the whisky he paid for, with no lack of relish. He was ‘‘solid” with the judge, too. You would have thought them old cronies, ‘He’s playing to win,” said Harry to him- nn nrnnnnnernnn =o. nnn nnn nnn ee UUE UES ISIE cs —— self. ‘‘ He'll have all the boys in sympathy with him, as a wronged father, and down on old Abraham, as the villain in the play. And he will adopt the same course with Miriam. He'll persuade her that both he and she have been wronged. She will go with him; and then good- by to me!” “‘This is the officer who serves dot Lm gi said Mr. Salomans, with a smile that might be interpreted as cordial or sarcastic. *‘ You must join us in a social glass, sir.” ‘‘ Excuse me,” said our hero, drink.” He spoke almost curtly. He knew that there was no use dissembling his true feelings. Judge Owney Maglochlin bridged over what might have been an awkward pause, in a coun- try where that sort of speech is very apt to call for an explanation. “‘ Not dbrink!” he cried, staring at the boy as if he were a natural curiosity. ‘ Faith, you’re remiss in yer juty to humanity. Think o’ the dhrunkenness ye’ll be held to answer fur! All me loife I’ve been throying to get as much 0’ the vile stuff out o’ the worrvld as possible, so’s not to l’ave it as a sthumbling-block to them as can’t resist timptation. ‘Pon me sowl, I b’lave I’ve swallied enough, wan toime and another, to float a man-o’-war!” Harry laughed. ‘“* You're very earnest in the temperance cause,” he said. “Be me sowl, it’s kilt entirely that Iam fur the binifit o’ humanity in gineral. But here goes fur martyrdom ag’in! We'll have our re- ward in the nixt world, b’ys!” But the boys drank with one eye directed toward where the deputy marshal was forming his men. They marched in a. squad, with our hero abreast of the first two. Everybody in the dance-hall followed them out, leaving the judge alone with his toddy. Straight to old Abraham’s store they went; and the young deputy rapped on the door with the butt of his revolver. Abraham obeyed the summons promptly. ‘*f am here, shentlemens,” be said, with dig- nity. ‘ Vat you vant mit me?” “It is my duty to serve this summons upon you,” said Harry, handing him the document. **You will accompany us, and make your ap- pearance before Judge Maglochlin.” “Tam ready. Do mit me vat you vill.” The old man closed the door behind him, and took his place beside Harry. So they made their way to Terpsichorean Hall, where the judge awaited them in anything but judicial solemnity. ‘“ Well, me foine fellow!” was his selute, as old Abraham stood before him, bowed like a veritable Shylock. ‘‘ Faith, it’sa gay laddybuck eair, fur tohave the gerrul they tell me ye’re arborin’ as yer own child. Where is she, man? Let us have a look at her, annyways.” ‘* Your Honor would not drag a young girl out of her home at night,” suggested Harry. ‘““ Will it not be enoughif she puts in ker ap- pearance at the trial?” “‘Thayre’s something in that,” admitted the “TI never judge. He looked at the young deputy with a merry twinkle in his eyes, as if he saw how the wind lay, and added: ‘It’s tinder of her ye air, fur a stony-hearted minion o’ the law! Be me sowl, I’m wid yez in that same. What won't we do fur the ladies?” ‘* We sball want security that she will be pro- duced in the morning,” said Mr. Isaac Salomans. - He was standing at the judge’s elbow. He looked at old Abraham with a smoldering fire of hatred under bis never-varying smile. The old Hebrew lifted his eyes to the face of his son-in-law, and gazed at him with cold dis- dain, making no reply. “ Be ‘azy!” said the judge, with a touch of asperity. 4 e didn’t like being jogged as to his duty. “Who'll go on yer bond, owld man, av we let yez off till the morning?” “IT have monish,”. said Abraham, proudly. ““T will secure you with all that Ihave.” _ ‘“‘ Faith! we'll howld yez by the purse-strings! No fear o’ yer roaming far under thim circum- stances!” laughed the judge. ‘*How much vill secure you?” ‘ ““]]1 be ’azy on yez, so I will, Make it five hundherd.” : Old Abraham shivered. He was going to for- feit the money, as he would have done a hun- dred times as much, if necessary. But he could not do it without suffering internal torture. “1 vill go back to my home, and bring you de monish,” S said, huskily. a
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m4 ea | } y 4 ip 10” eee accompanied by Harry and his men, he id so. As he laid it on the table before the judge, it seemed fairly to stick to his fingers. Then, wringing his hands, he tottered from the oom, But when he held in his arms the girl for whom he was making so painful a sacrifice, her love repaid him. er CHAPTER XIII. THE PARTING. “THat anti-pork ‘atin’ dude?” cried Tom Murphy, when Harry laid his scheme before him and Dick. ‘* Be the sowl o’ me fut, av we couldn’t git the shtairt 0’ yan spalpeen, it ’u’d be toime we'd dis- band.” ‘¢ Jist you don’t worry,” was Dick’s assurance. ‘¢ We'll fix him. You git de gal ready; an’ we'll be up de road wid de hosses.” ‘¢ We must act all alone,” said Harry. ‘‘ That slippery fellow has so won on the boys, that I should be afraid to approach one of them,” ‘¢ We don’t want none o’ dem!” said Dick. “ Faith, phwat fur would we have the loikes o’ them shtanding about in the way?’ demanded Tom. ‘Tt is all arranged, then,” said Harry. ‘ You are sure about the horses?” ‘‘ Dah’s de bronchos what we~uns own. Dey’s good fur legs wid anyfin’ in dis hyar camp.” ‘“‘Tt’s wan more we're wantin’ fur the gurrul. Faith, we'll take Jim Gladden’s, avin’ him wor- rud that it’s only borried.” ‘‘That will give us the very best horse in the camp,” observed Harry. ‘An’ av he catches us,” suggested Tom, as if this were a consideration worth entertaining, ‘¢we won’t hang fur horse-st’alin’!” “No fear but Jim would take it all in good rt,” admitted Harry. ‘‘If we could make im believe as we do about this villain, he would be with us.” “Take no risks,” said Tom. anything to do, do it yerselves.” A, Well then, set about your part at once,” The boys separated, old Abraham’s. He found a miserable household; and when he had almost dragged Miriam from the clinging arms of the old people, she was nearly fainting with excess of emotion. He supported her sobbing in his arms, as if she were his sister. In that supreme moment neither thought of disguising their mutual affection; and in the chivalrous tenderness of our hero the old people saw nothing to reprehend. 1 Put out the light,” said Harry. must see us leave the house.” As Abraham blew out the candle, Rebecca ut- tered a great cry of heart anguish, and clutched convulsively at the girl who had replaced in her heart her own child of long ago. “ Ab, Gott! Gott!” she cried. ‘‘ We are losing I did not know it vas like dis. Miriam! ‘* Av yez have arry going directly .to ‘*No one ‘Manama! mamma!” cried the girl, clasping the old woman in the darkness, “T shall die!” sobbed Rebecca. ‘ Abraham, can ve not keep her with us, and appeal to his erosity?” “The generosity of the wolf!” returned Abra- ham, fiercely. ‘‘ Has he not killed vone al- reaty?” Miriam shivered. She had before heard such allusions as this, not understanding them. She had never asked an explanation. But even old Abraham, when it came to the int of actually committing his cherished child another, clung to her, rocking to and fro with her, asa mother might grieve over her dead baby. As soon as - = d bring himself to break in u their pain, Harry interposed: Re phink oe Miriam. She will need all of her strength.” “You are right,” admitted the old man. ‘Take her! take her, my son!” And he put the sobbing girl into the deputy’s arms, She was almost at the oo of swooning. ‘Go into the store and leave her with me a moment,” ordered Harry. ‘‘ She cannot go out until she is more calm.” The old people obeyed him, Old Abraham led his wife with a tenderness that their mutual grief augmented. ‘¢ Ve shall not know the actual moment of her going from us,” he said. _ Then, in the darkness, clinging to each other, they waited. sat down on a settle next the wall, and ' irl d besid - ape ek ag yh own e him, pillow Jim Gladden’s Deputy. He knew that words were useless, The firm clasp of his strong arms, in silence, would im- part a sense of dependence and security. The girl’s thoughts would turn to him; and so, grad- ually, she would become calm and hopeful. Youth ever looks forward to the brighter morrow. When she was calmed somewhat, he asked: ‘* Miriam, you do not fear to trust yourself so entirely to my guidance?” ‘* Ah, no!” she sighed. The ecstasy of love was already softening the pain of separation from those other claimants who henceforth were to stand second in her af- fection. Such is the course of nature. Not that she loved them less, but that she loved him more, ‘* You are ready?” ‘*- Yes, kint shentleman.” “* Come, then.” He rose and slung across his shoulder the sad- dle-bags which contained the slender stock of necessary clothing which she was to take with her. Then, while she clung to his arm, he led her out of her home into the darkness of the bound- less outer world. Hugging close to him, she stepped as lightly asa fairy. But she shivered with dread as she felt the chill night air. Before the door closed between her and those she loved, she threw two silent kisses in their di- rection, whispering: ‘*Good-by, my dear papa! Good-by, my dear mamma! Gott keep you both—and your poor Miriam!” Then she was a fugitive, indeed, with nowhere to call her home. With infinite caution Harry piloted the timid girl, shrinking and quivering at every sound at every fancied shadow, out of the camp, unti he gained the rendezvous. ‘All right, boys?” he whispered, with a thrill of elation. ‘* Dah hain’t been a sound,” was Dick’s assur- nce. ‘*Then let’s get out of this instanter!” ‘“You an’ Miss Miriam takes de best hosses. Hyeah’s Jim Gladden’s, Ef we has to run fur it, it’s more ’portant dat you two gits away dan me ’n’ Tom.” ‘‘Did you get Miriam’s side-saddle?” asked Hi , with sudden anxiety. ‘‘I forgot to men- tion that.” ‘* We didn’t furgit it,” assured Dick, taking pride to himself. ‘* But how did you get it out of the stable, al- most under the noses of the boys going in and out of the Terpsichorean Hall?” ‘* Dis chile hain’t been chick’n-huntin’ all dese years fur nuffia’!” chuckled Dick. ‘‘ Jist you t’ank de Lo’d fur de saddle, an’ ax no ques- tions!” “Pll remember you, Dick,” said our hero, a gratefully. Lifting the = in his arms, he set her in place in her saddle. e ‘* You are not afraid?” he asked. “Oh, no.” So epee is so much larger than you are ‘*T can manage him.” His arm yet lingered about her waist. She had not withdrawn hers from his neck. In the darkness of the chaparral no one could see them. Tom and Dick were busy mounting. The girl’s face bent close over that of her lover, to catch and respond to his whispers. She thought of what he was risking for her sake. This was no trifling escapade. There might be blood spilled along the trail upon which they were setting out. Suppose he were killed? All the malignity of the enemy she dreaded would be directed against him. She had not thought of that until now. ‘* Hahree,” she whispered, with her lips close to his ear. ) ‘* Yes, darling!” he breathed, so low that none could catch the tender sound. He trembling with eager ecstasy. She sighing es *T had not thought until now,” she said, ‘This cea Ng may never return to us.” ‘Well, well?” Her face dropped lower, until, ye this mute commission of herself to him, be kissed her lips — and agai n. atever happens,” she said, brokenly, ‘¢ you—will know that—from the first—” ‘* We have always loved each other?” ‘*'Yes! yes!” “Thank God!” he breathed. ‘I loved you even before I had seen your face. ou re- member when I held your band in tne dar’ ?” “* After you had saved me from those ruffians? Can I ever forget it? Never!” ; ‘* Ready?” called Tom, cautiously. ‘“ Now and forever!” whispered Harry. ¢ ‘* Forever,” breathed the girl in return, Their lips met once more, and then she sat erect. Harry swung into the saddle. ** Ready,” be responded to Tom. ‘* Not quite!” said a voice in the darkness. And a shadow rose in their path, asif out of the ground, CHAPTER XIV. THE HONOR OF THE CAMP, Miriam uttered a low cry of terror, and reined her horse toward her lover. On either band, where his pards were, Harry heard the omirious click of hastily-drawn re- volvers. His own weapon was in his hand as soon as theirs. ‘*Stand aside!” he cried, in a low, hoarse voice. ‘*Out of our path, or I will shoot you down!” ‘*No you won't!” declared a well-known voice. “Jim! Is that you?” “Tt ain’t anybody else.” “Don’t interfere with us. I can’t explain to ou now; but will when I can do so safely. his is all right. I will satisfy you that it is in a few days. You know that you can trust me.” “IT thought I could!” said Jim, with bitter significance. “Have I ever failed you?” ‘* Never before.” ** Well, then?” ‘“What did I say when I made you my deputy?’ ‘*T don’t know just what you mean.” “T said that I wanted men that wouldn’t be the fu’st to break the law they were sworn to uphold,” ‘‘But this is different, Jim. Such a case might never happen again—” “Tt won’t happen once!—not while I’m alive!’’ interrupted Gladden, with an emphasis that made his deputy’s heart quail. For a moment he was at a loss fora reply, rat ed how much depended upon what he said next. Jim Gladden went-on: ‘¢ This is the fust warrant that was ever served in this hyar camp, It’s a-goin’ through, make or break—you kin bet yer life on that!” “* Jim,” said Harry, huskily, will you listen to me while I explain? ‘“-You can’t explain away one thing.” ** And what is that?” “The honor o’ this byar camp! Thar’s a mighty sight o’ crooked business about the law. Them as has the makin’ of it, an’ them as has the ¢ in’ of it out, is only men, an’ some of ’em mighty slippery cusses, at that. Waal, I ‘low one thing’s signed an’ sealed. The fu’stdeal at Paddy’s Flat, with Jim Gladden at the box, is goin’ fur to be squar’!” Harry was ina dilemma. He could not even state the facts in the hearing of the girl most deeply concerned, Su sends he leaped from his horse. “Step this way, Jim,” he said. ‘‘ I'll tell you everything; and you shall judge.” He heard the girl he loved draw her breath tremulously. He thought he heard her breatbe his name—that sweet ‘‘Hahree!” which fell from her lips as from none others. Once on the ground, he became conscious of the vicinity of others, and surmised that they - were surrounded by the whole posse, with Jim at their head. And this was the fact. Tom and Dick had not been so sharp as they flattered themselves, Knowing—or at least over. “‘He’s got somethin’ brewing—that’s flat!” — reflecting upon Harry’s ~ said Jim to himself, manner since he had received the summons, d With this start, it did not take the marsha) — long to arrive at the probability of collusion be- _ , tween old Abraham and the boy who had server _ him so faithfully in the past. ; int “That ole coon’s a-layin’ low. That’s what'| i. the matter with him!” he declared. ‘‘ The jedg ‘lows to hev him by the purse-strings; but, ef I 4 readin’ signs, the ole bloke set i ee: f i on by the leetle gal. S’ he’d conclude in the gilders, an’ skip?” ‘ After that, the prudent course for the mi é ‘ing—therelations which existed between his deputy and the bean- _ tiful Jewess, Jim Gladden had surmised that the _ coming of a father upon the scene just at this | —— might not be very welcome to the — Ss
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Jim Gladden’s Deputy. ES who was ready to go his pile on the honor of the camp was plain. “Til lay fur my gay an’ festive lovyer!” And this he did, with the result of discovering his int@rview with Tom and Dick. ‘*His pards! Them’s the enes to spot. While he’s a-doin’ of the inside work, they’ll be a-doin’ of the outside. I’m after ye, my sly dodgers!” That he made good his word, we have seen. He saw the boys take not only their own horses, but his. He did not interfere with them, willing to wait until he had the whole lot. The getting of the side-saddle placed their pur- pose beyond a peradventure. And now, in such agitation that he could scarcely speak coherently, Harry put the whole matter before him. Jim Gladden listened patiently to the end, and then said: **T reckon, boy, as you allow [ hain’t nothin’ ag’in’ you?” **T know that, Jim.” “*T don’t bear ye no grudge fur what ye was up to as fur as takin’ my hoss is consarned—the which thar ain’t his match in these hyar parts. Ye'd be welcome to him an’ a good deal more, ef so be it would do ye any good, an’ that was all thar was in it.” “T believe that, Jim. I wouldn’t have con- sented to taking the horse if I hadn’t.” ‘“*So fur, so good! We hain’t no quarrel up to date. Now, then, what you’ve been a-tellin’ me may be allstraight. I’m free to say as I don’t believe it.” **But, Jim!” cried our hero, in trepidation. “Oh, yowre allright. You believe it,” said Gladden. ‘‘ But the ole man in my opinion, has been usin’ you to mop up a dirty job. This hvar gent has give me all the ins and outs o’ the case; an’ I allow he’s willin’ todo the thing up purty white. The ole man don’t like his son-in-law. Like as not he made half the trouble between man an’ wife. When you know more about these hyar fam’ 7 rumpuses, you'll ‘low that’s mighty easy todo. The mother dies, an’ the old folks runs off with the child. They brung her up onalie. What for?” Harry hurriedly repeated old Abraham’s ex- planation. ‘“That’s a dead give away!” declared Jim, at once. ‘They ‘low that the girl wouldn’t sta with them ef she knowed she had a father. e can’t be sich a scare-crow as they make out; or they wouldn’t be so afraid o’ leavin’ it to her to “Then,” he concluded, ‘‘ after all’s said an’ done, thar’s the honor o’ this hyar camp.” was in despair. CHAPTER XV. MR. SALOMANS MAKES A POINT. ‘“ WiLL nothing move you?” cried Harry, “T reckon not, chicken,” answered Jim, kindly. ‘‘ You take the girl back home, You give me your word that you'll drop this thing right hyar. Ill see that the ole man don’t do nothin’ without teu! help. An’ we won’t let on as this hyar has pe noe ‘But suppose I refuse?’ cried Harry, passion- ately. **T should hate to do it like p’ison. The Lord above knows asI would that! Ye see, I’ve taken a notion to ye; an’ that’s a fact. But, ef so be it comes between the honor o’ this hyar camp—the which I’m free to say I’m p’ison sorry I ever had anythin’ to do with the office o” marshal o’ thet same—between the honor o’ this hyar camp an’ that thar—that thar notion, I ‘low I'll hev to clap you and yer snot de a pison set when ye git goin’; J know that—to clap you an’ yer pards in the calaboose, all fur to heap ye out 0’ mischief, tell this byar case is tried.” Through all the despair of the moment, Harry felt the love of this rough fellow, and the re- luctance with which he opposed his scheme, He had planned to fight his way through any opposition; and he was not daunted now by the numbers — him. But it was impossible to enter into deadly combat with this man who had let him see into his heart with almost childlike simplicity. | ** Jim,” he said, at last, ‘‘ I can’t tell you how I feel about this. But you will believe that I ‘bear you no malice?” “Tm glad to hear that—I am so!” ’ “ Well, then, let us compromise the matter in this way. Let us call all the boys of the camp wogether secretly—without the knowledge of these outsiders, y mannan lay the case before hem. I will abide a the general vote. If the »ys say that the girl goes, and that you are ex- merated, you withdraw your opposition. If they say that she stays, I will take her back home to await the trial.” But Jim shook his head. ‘Not countin’ the law,” he said, ‘‘ we hain’t the right to do it that way. Give the girla show, She’d orter know who her father is. Ef she wants to go with him, she’d orter hev the chance. If she lows to stay with the old folks, Tll give ye my word to this hyar:—thar hain’t law enough in this hyar section o’ country to git her out o’ Paddy’s Flat, as long as thar’s a live man in it!” This was Jim Gladden’s voice and manner showed it. Harry had sense enough to know a finality when he came to it. Besides, Jim’s argument—the very one Harry himself had used before he had been swept away in the tide of the old man’s grief and indigna- tion—now weighed with him again. Was it fair to take the girl’s fate so completely out of her hands? ‘So be it!” said our hero, with sudden re- solve. ‘‘ But this I swear:—I will protect her against everything save her own feelings!” ‘* We'll all do that, little pard,” averred Jim, putting his hand affectionately on Harry’s shoulder. Sore at heart, and dreading the future, the boy went back to the girl in whose eyes he longed to stand a hero. ‘* What will she think of me?” he asked him- self. ‘I have failed at the very outset!” He went up to her, and tovk her hand, and put his arm about her, at a loss what to say. She bent down over him, as before, so as to whisper to him. ‘* All is lost!” shesaid. ‘‘ Ido not blame you. I see—it is your friends. You cannot fight them, even if they were not so many. Let us go back. It is true, that the law should not be broken. He is a brave man and a good man; my papa has saidit. Maybe the law will not be so cruel, after all. I do not fear.” ‘* Whata girl you are!” cried the young lover. With admiration of her courage, and with grati- tude for her clear view of the dilemmain which he found himself. ‘* But, Miriam, believe me, if you stand by those wholove you most—whose love you have proved—you indeed have nothing to fear. Al) the boys in the camp will stand by hag and protect you from harm. I have Jim ladden’s pledge that you are to be allowed to choose your own fate, no matter what the law may say about it. You know it is impossible to enforce the law here against the will of the community.” ‘*Then why should we fly?’ cried the girl. ‘*T need not leave my dear papa and mamma! And—and—you need not be in danger on my account!” What could be more delightful than such a confession, in accents all vibrant with tender solicitude? The boy deputy lifted his sweetheart from the saddle, and s her on her feet. At that moment an ominous voice broke on their ears. ‘* You are a brafe man and an honest vone!” Although Miriam had never heard the voice before, she recognized the Hebrew accent, and knew that her enemy stood within a few feet of her, addressing Jim Gladden. With a startled cry she shrunk closer to her lover’s side. Harry encircled her trembli arm, and instinctively threw round to the butt of his reyolver. Jim Gladden’s voice next came to them, cold and stern. It was plain that he had taken a dis- like to the man who had caused the defection of his deputy, and ‘was impatient at his intrusion i the scene where he could gain a knowledge of it. ‘“You hyar?” he said. ‘With an eye to my own interests,” replied Mr. Salomans, with his wonted coolness. ‘You have tracked me, to see that I did my duty?” was Jim’s next demand. gallant. ultimatum. His figure with his is other hand ““No. I was on de heels of dis young I took his measure, and made up my mind dot it was in him to play me a trick. Since a trick dot was played on me some years ago, I have made it a point to count my own game. How- ever, it has given me an opportunity to hear what you have said; and once more I say—you are an honest man,” ‘*T wish I could return the compliment!” said Jim Gladden, so bluntly that it was plain that, the longer he talked to this man, the more dis- posed he was to pick a quarrel with him. But Isaac Salomans’s temper was proof. “Tt is not necessary,” he said, coolly. Then he walked over to where Miriam stood ey er ——————————————————————————————————————— — clinging to her lover, and said, in alow, winning to . ne: ‘* My little girl, dey have taught you to hate and fear me. It is natural dot you should be- lieve all dey say. I ask you to wait until to- morrow, when you shall hear my side of de story. For as many years, almost, as you have of life, I have wandered over de face of de earth in search of you, to tell you dis story. Ah! those have been years of — when I despaired of ever finding you! But I have found you now; and all I ask is dot you listen tome. If den you still believe them; if den you have no pity on me, I vill go avay and leave you in peace. Ido not come as an enemy to you, or to those who have wronged me. I do not use the law to force you against your wishes, nor to punish them, but oy to compel those who have kept us apart to give you a chance to hear me. Dey may tr to poison your heart against me to-night; but beg of you—wait! wait!” fis voice broke. Those who heard him be- lieved that there were tears in his eyes, hidden by the darkness. In spite of himself, honest Jim Gladden went back to his former opinion. ‘* Pl sw’ar he ain't so bad!” he decided to him- self. Even Harry was moved. ‘* He will convince her!” he said to his heart; ‘* and I shall lose her!” Miriam had hidden her face in her lover’s breast, clinging to him all aquiver. For the time, neither words nor manner had any f pate tible effect upon her. In her fear and preju- dice, she did not listen. But later she was to re- call both. The wily Mr. Isaac Salomans turned abrupt- ly away and left the spot. ‘* Come!” said Harry, and he led tke shrinking girl back to her home. ‘* Dis is a great go!” said Dick to his comrade in disappointment. ‘* We'd better cut out o’ this,” suggested Tom. ‘* Maybe Jim Gladden won't let us off so ’asy as he did Harry.” But Jim said nothing at all to them. He simply removed Miriam’s side-saddle from his horse, and placed it on the back of Harry’s broncho. then be and his men went almost as silently as they had come. ‘*What’s de reason we can’t cut de dirt out from under ’em yit?’ whispered Dick, excitedly. ‘* All we got to do is to run after Harry, an’ tell him de coast is cl’ar.” ** You’re a fool!” said Tom. his word to Jim Gladden?” ‘*What o’dat? I reckon no sich ’tickler p’ints wouldn’t hold dis coon!” ‘* Well, Harry’s a coon of another color,” said Tom, dryly. Without further discussion, they betook them- selves back to the camp. Meanwhile, the fugitives gained readmittance to the home of the old Jew. Abraham and Rebecca were in despair. Mir- iam threw her arms about both of them, and the three wept in a commou embrace. CHAPTER XVI. ‘ A STUBBORN OLD MAN. ‘* My friends,” interpose i Harry, ‘‘ pardon me for breaking in upon your grief, but we must lay our plans for to-morrow, Another thing— Miriam must not be made sick by this prolonged excitement. Let her go and lie down, while we plan what is best for her.” Old Abraham understood our hero’s wish to get Miriam out of the way, so that they could talk freely. ‘*Go, my dear,” he commanded, brokenly. The girl obeyed at once, without a question. Her very readiness pained Harry. ‘*That is the blind obedience she will give to her father when she knows him,” he said to himself. Abraham had the same thought. ‘““You see,” he said, when the girl was gone. ** Ah, ve haf taught her too vell dis loving obe- dience!” ‘““We must make the best of it,” decided Harry. ‘ Do not forget that the more she loves and trusts you, the less ready she will be to leave you.” The old man shook his head. ‘*Tt vill be he dot has de right to command her,” he said. ‘What preparation can we make to break the force of his authority?” asked Harry. ‘* None!” replied the old man, in gloomy de- spair. * One thing, at least, is plain. She must not learn the truth from him. The old man started, and clasping his hands, ** Didn’t he give
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_ shake his head. 12 seemed to shrink from some impending dan- ger. - ‘*No! no!” he gasped, in terror. ‘* You must tell her,” said Harry, firmly. ‘Confess dot ve haf deceived her from de cradle?” cried the old man, with an anguish that startled his hearers. ‘‘ Ve haf robbed her dead mother of the first lisp of love from her baby lips! Ach, Gott! I nefer t’ought of dot before!” And throwing the skirt of his loose dressing- gown over his head, he bowed it on his arms, on the table, while Rebecca began to rock back and forth, moaning. ‘*1t is retribution!” pursued old Abraham, **She vill turn avay from us. He vill make her belief dot we haf wronged him, Ah! I know his tongue.” He rose suddenly to his feet. ‘*No! no!” he cried. ‘‘ My lips can never tell her dot! Ve must fight—fight him tode death!” He looked savage. His eyes blazed. His bent form straightened. ‘* Wait!” pleaded Harry, taking hold of his arm. ‘Listen to me. If you persist in this hopeless struggle, you will ruin everything. Think of your age, and that of your wife. e will easily prove that it is next to impossible that you should have so young achild, Ever one will scout the idea, when one who resembles her so closely as he does opposes his claim to yours. And can you look her in the eye, and tell her that it is false?” The old man saw in imagination the wonder- ing ce hy wig in the ae tender eyes of the child who had listened the words that fell from his lips as if they were gospel truth; and with a great cry, he dropped into a chair so sud- denly that his whole figure seemed to collapse. Harry put his hand upon his shoulder, ‘*You must be a man,” he said, ‘‘ and face this thing bravely. Tell her all. She will see the love that has prompted you. She will be- lieve that you acted for her good. On the other hand, if you wait for him to prove it in spite of you, she will believe that you have been acty- ated by prejudice against him, as Jim Gladden and everybody else does now.” ‘* Never! never!” said the old man, doggedly. Harry was in despair, He sought to appeal to Rebecca; but the old woman could do nothing but moan. A rap on the store door checked Harry in an out- burst of rage against the obstinate old Hebrew. Abraham sprung to his feet, and stood like a beast at bay. ‘* T vill open de door,” announced old Rebecca, with a firmness that contrasted strangely with her past helplessness, ‘If dey kill dis olt body, it vill be little loss, safe to my olt man and— and Miriam!” Her voice broke as she referred to the gir]. ‘We will put out the light,” decided Harry, **so as not to be a mark for any one out in the dark. Then you throw open the door and stand aside. I will gaarantee to pile six dead men in the doorway before one living one passes it!” They extinguished the light. Then Rebecca opened the door. A single figure of aman could be seen outlined in the doorway. ‘¢ Halt!” cried the boy deputy. ‘‘ Who are you, and what do you want here at this hour?” CHAPTER XVII. A FRAUD OF THE FIRST WATER. It was Mr. Midge who stood before old Abra- ham’s door, and was challenged by the deputy marshal. ‘* Don’t trouble yourself about me, Mr. Dep- uty.” oe that you, Mr. Midge?” cried the boy on ard, ee his revolver at once and going orward., “In the way of business, if you will permit me. This is a little informal, but I confess to an interest in your charming protegee; and I thought that you might find yourself in some perplexity, which a suggestion—” “Tf you would be so good! There never was any one more welcome,’ _ And with a swelling beart the boy grasped the hand of the legal shark who was so cunning- ly taking him in. He introduced the attorney to Abraham, and soon they were seated in close counsel, “T hope you will help me to make Abraham listen to reason,” said Harry. And he stated the issue between them. What was his surprise to see the attorney ‘*T think I must side with our esteemed friend against you ” he declared, ‘ Ah!” cried old Abraham, rubbing his hands. “Dere is hope! You see some vay to balk him?” ——— Jim Gladden’s Deputy. ‘‘ The law,” remarked Mr. Midge, ‘‘ is a beau- tiful contrivance. It has the graceful windings of a ram’s horn, The trick is, to know how to manipulate it.” ‘‘ What is your plan?’ asked Harry. ‘* We will get a postponement of the case on the plea that the young lady is prostrated by excitement and unable to make her appearance in court,” ‘*But this will not be true.” ‘“¢ A mere form,” said Mr. Midge, with a wave of hishand, ‘‘ A doctor’s certificate of ill health! A good deal easier than an IO U!” : “It is Doc Sawyer!” cried Abraham. ‘He shall swim in whisky.” ‘*But what good will this respite do us?” asked Harry. ‘In the end there is no escape. A day or two at most—” “Will probably afford us ample opportunity for a second attempt, which will be more for- tunate than that of to-night,” said Mr. Midge, quietly. ‘* But [have pledged my word,” ‘‘ Therefore you will have nothing to do with the matter.” ** Who then—” ‘“‘T understand that you were assisted by a couple of enterprising lads who have not pledged their words, and who will probably not be so scrupulous if they have. Then there are men in this camp who would jump at the chance to defeat the law, on general principles.” ‘*T vill give them a better reason for aiding us,” cried Abraham, Once started, he seemed to have thrown to the winds all mercenary considerations, Our hero was seized with a great, trembling eagerness. He knew that it was an evasion of the spirit of his pledge; but if this could be done withont directly compromising his honor, he would not obstruct it. Abraham was driven almost wild. ‘* You are our savior!” he cried. ‘‘ Monish will not compensate you. Three hearts vill never forget you in their prayers. ‘“ And she shall thank you. You vill not re- gret serving one so sweet, so helpless,” And running to the foot of the stairs, he called: “Miriam! Miriam!” She came down, pale and terrified, fixing her great eyes questioningly upon the stranger. What was the issue of this long conference? What had this unknown person to do with it? But Mr. Midge smiled upon her with the fatherly patronage of a village parson. “Come, come, my little lady!” he said, ‘‘ you mustn’t look so frightened. ou have friends who will see you through—never fear.” Abraham caught her by the hand, and dragged her forward, pouring into her ears the praises of their new-found deliverer. She stood at the knee of the good-natured attorney, and allowed him to chuck her under the chin and pat her on the shoulder, telling her that she was well worth fighting over, and prais- ing the pluck she had shown in the attempt to elude her enemy. She was too shy to thank him in words; but Abraham and Rebecca made up her deficiency in this respect, until Mr. Midge was fain, as if overcome, to say: ‘Really, my good people, you are making too much of the mere ordinary performance of my duty.” Abraham pressed money upon him, of which he took only his usual retaining fee, saying that they would see about the rest as the case pro- ressed. He then took his departure, followed by a shower of blessings, Having outlined the interview to his fellow- attorney, he added: which stood in a row on the table behind which Judge Owney Maglochlin sat in anything but judicial state. His manner was rather in keep- ing with the whisky and cigars that flanked the Statute Book. What set everybody on the qui vive, was the fact that no one had ever seen the girl’s face, save only the Three Jolly Pards; and they had steadily refused to ‘ give it away.” Now, however, she would have to stand un- vaiied in the open court. But what is the meaning of this?—old Abra- ham with his head hanging dejectedly on his breast, and a stooping figure, black-robed and a escorted into the court on the arm of Mr. idge. ‘** Rebecca!” criedone of thecrowd. ‘‘ Yoube blowed! It’s the gal herself; an’ my money says so!” *“An ounce of dust either way!” shouted an eager individual, shaking a buckskin bag above his head. ‘‘Put up, or shut up! What's the word?” ‘*Tt’s a dead blind!” cried a third, radiant | with delight at this prospect of a bet in which the shrewdest could get no ‘* pointer.” And in five minutes’ time there was scarce- ly an ounce of dust in the camp which was not “up” on the issue as to whether the budding beauty of the girl or the shriveled ugliness of the old woman would be revealed by the lifting of the vail. Mr. Isaac Salomans sat beside his counsel, Colonel Blood, wearing the sad countenance of a man who, having been deeply wronged, yet bore no malice against his enemies, No sooner had the court been called to order, with the customary ‘‘Hear ye! hear ye! hear ye! This court,” etc., than Colonel Blood was on his feet, addressing ‘‘His Honor” in most bombastic and highfalutin phrase. However, before he fairly got under way, he was unceremoniously cut short by Milton Midge, Esq. ‘Tf the learned counsel for the prosecution will yield to me a moment,” he said, ‘‘I am about to move the court for a postponement of this case.” ‘*A postponement!” cried the colonel, lanc- ing his opponent with a san of fiery scorn. “Tf it please the court, I insist upon an im- mediate hearing of the case. The parties to it are all present; and any proposal to delay can be but for the purpose of paining time—for what, I will not say. But I repeat it, sir—it is but a pretext to gain time!” ry seemed to nettle the imperturbable Mr. e. ‘*T repel the insinuation withscorn!” he cried. “T hold in my hand, if it please the court, the certificate of an eminent practitioner of this locality—the family physician of my client—to the effect that the young lady about whom this suit is concerned is unable to appear in court, being prostrated by nervous excitement over the persecution to which she has been subjected by the person claiming to be her father.” The room rung with cheers by those whose bets were decided in their favor by this speech; and altercations rose on every side as to whether the money should be paid over at once, or not until the lifting of the vail had added indisputa- ble confirmation. ‘Yes! yes! I swea~ it by the beard of the Prophet!” shouted old Abraham, leaping to his feet. ‘What we ask,” pursued Mr. Midge, ‘is that the case be deferred to the end of the sit- ting, to give the young lady time to recover.” But the colonel overflowed with objections, Everything was irregular, He almost spat vpon the certificate. The words flew from his mouth “like hot shot ‘“* My dear colonel, you should sometimes take | from a hot shovel,” as the boys putit; and when these good deeds upon you, and receive their re- ward. Those good people will pass amore com- fortable night than if the hope were not held out to them. It will be the better for their health, and will not prejudice their case any.” At that moment our hero was pacing the night, thinking with a swelling heart of this man who had come to their rescue; and Miriam, in the sanctity of her virgin chamber, was link- ing his name with that of her lover, in her com- munion with beaven! CHAPTER XVIII. COLONEL BLOOD ‘‘ COUNTERS.” Pappy’s FLAT was a human bee-hive, For miles around men had poured in from less fa- vored camps to see a “‘ ginooine A No. 1 court.” The Lage goon owe was turned into a “Temple of Justice;” and the boys looked with profound respect on the half-dozen law books | } he finally gave over, rather because he was out of an than for want of legal reasons why the motion should not be granted, everybody admit- ted that: ars. ‘* He’s hove up'a purty middlin’ pile o’ dirt fur the other cuss to run through the long-tom, voc nem What'll ye go that it shows up ary color?’ Mr. Midge addressed himself to the task, with a flow of eloquence which called forth this char- acteristic comment: ‘It jest shows how easy the hop-o’-my-thumb, an gost him fifty better!” But, meanwhile, Colonel Blood had turned to honest Jim Gladden, who was rosning the pro- cedure with a frown which indicated his sus- picion that all was not above-board, ‘*Look here, sir!” he demanded, in a flerce whisper, ‘‘are you a to this plot?” « Blot?” repeated ead it is to lie! He sees.
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c a es “Saree cee FED. a _ the room, Jim Gladden’s Deputy. } “13 ‘You know very well that there is nothing the matter with the girl.” “I don’t know anything of the kind.” ‘*Come! come! I’m not prepared to split hairs withgzou over words. You have been heard to pledge Your honor that tbe first case presented to the court in this camp should go squarely through on its merits.” ‘* An’ I'll stand by that, ef it takes a leg!” cried Jim, flushing to the roots of his hair. ‘* Then go and bring that girl into court. You are the responsible man. You can’t screen yourself behind this tricky deputy of yours.” ** Have I tried to do that?” “T can tell better when I see how you act. But I can answer you one thing without delay.” ‘** An’ what’s that?” ‘*Tf you really are the honest man you’d have it believed, and can’t see through this little game, youre not fit for the office you hold.” “Tl show you what I’m fit for!” retorted Jim, with, it must be confessed, an oatn. ‘* One word!” said the colonel, detaining him as he was about to leave the room, os What dye want? Speak quick, and to the int! “Drive that quack out of the camp; and just give him a hint that if he shows his nose about here while the court is in session, he'll be jugged for twelve months.” ‘*T know how to take care o’ him !” ‘Be spry aboutit, Ill keep this thing in mo- tiov until you get back. But, remember that there’s a limit even to legal obstruction.” ‘* T wouldn’t ’a’ believed it!” muttered Jim, as he hastened from the room, Harry Keene watched this in an agony of ap- prehension. A glance of angry reproach from Jim told him that he was suspected, and that the wily little lawyer had made a counter move. He had not heard the whispered conversation ; but any step on the part of the prosecution could — but one end. ud here he was tied to his post, unable to leave it without a breach of duty. But could he endure this? Duty or no duty, could he leave her, a prey to unknown terrors, to Cope alone with this new assault of her ene- mies? ‘‘Never!” he muttered, between his set teeth. ‘* Whatever comes of it, my love stands first!” And with a dogged resolve to stand by her even to the death, he abandoned the prisoners over whom he was on guard to the care of two constables who were with him, and slipped from ft but sigh in his heart, in the bitterness of despair: ‘ Miriam, my poor Miriam, ‘everythin against us! This scoundrel will surely win!” OuTSsIDE the dance-house he came up to Jim Gladden at the head of the remaining four of do®”’ ‘What! you?’ cried Jim, flaming red with ‘*Did you suppose that I could stay? come to stand beeween you and her.” I can’t. She has got to come—that’s plain enough; but I will go for her.” could not find voice. When he did speak, his voice was husky with ‘*T resign my position!” cried Harry. Under different circumstances this would have ‘Free from your orders, I can at least ac- company you to her house, and tell her that she “Go back to your post, I command you!” And to show that he was not to be further “6 Jim !” cried his deputy, in amazement, but betraying no outward sign of fear. And Jim Gladden, such was his resolve, oh ag his weapon into line with the boy’s Yet even as he did so, he could is CHAPTER XIX. A MINIATURE REVOLT. his posse, Jim,” he cried, ‘‘what are you going to anger. ‘Yes, I!” replied Harry, doggedly. ** What do you mean by bein’ off your oe have **Go back!” | “ Don’t ask me to do that; for you know that That he got so far was due to the fact that Jim Gladden was so moved by wrath that he suppressed fury. ; “Am I your superior officer or not?” he de- manded, . cost bim the severest struggle of his life; but now he thought only of Miriam and her fears. has nothing to fear,” / “But I refuse to accept!” cried Gladden. trifled with, he drew his revolver and cocked it “Go back, I say: or I will shoot you in your tracks!” was the only reply he got. But now came an unexpected interruption. ** Hole ou, dah, boss! We’s lined you, bofe of us! ‘* Be jabers, ye kin bet yer loife!” And glancing over his shoulder, Jim Gladden saw Tom Murphy and Dick Johnson with drawn revolvers menacing him. ‘*We hain’t got nuffin’ ag’in’ you, Jim,” re- marked Dick. ‘‘ But when it comes to pop- guns, de Free Jolly Pards stan’s an’ falls toged- der; an’ dat’s so!” For a moment Jim Gladden was too much amazed at this open rebellion to make reply. He could only stare. There could be no doubt that the boys were in dead earnest. They had been among the most intent specta- tors in the court-room. Already that morning had Milton Midge, Esq., interviewed them, and intimated what might be required of them in the event of the success of his scheme, This he had done, so that nothing should be lacking to make it appear that he was acting in good faith. After ko yaya so complete, who could suspect that he was really in collusion with bis his fellow attorney, the two playing into each other’s hands, so as to augment the fees which they could exact with an appearance of rea- son? Watching every move, the boys were quick to detect Colonel Blood’s use of Jim Gladden. Then, seeing their pard follow, they, too, slip out of the court-room, to be on hand if they could be of service. They were in time to show their spirit, and the loyalty which bound them to their comrade, in the face of dangers that might well have de- terred grown men. With a disposition to treat their demonstra- tion as a lark carried to an indiscreet length, the four constables made an advance upon them, swearing at them not ill-naturedly. ‘* Bod scan till the loikes o° the s — Git out o’ that, ye beggars!” cried an Iris n. But the boys proved that they were quite seri- us. ‘* You take car’ o’ dem riff-raff, an’ I'll hole de boss !”” was Dick’s order. ‘*T’ave me alone fur the loike o’ that!” replied Tom; and whipping out a second weapon, he brought it to bear on the astonished posse, " yer distance, gints!” he commanded, ‘or Pil ade out a bower at yez!” But here Harry’s senses came back to him. He saw the folly of this unheard-of stand. ‘* What do you mean by such nonsense?” he demanded. ‘Get out o’ that! You idiots, ’'d put you under arrest myself, if I hadn’t set you the example. Do you reckon that the Three J pert ahi» run this whole camp?” ‘‘Hugh! Reckon we could make a right smart chance at it, ef you-uns didn’t back down!” de- clared Dick, putting up his weapon with a bad- enough grace, ‘*T’m the b’y that was good fur two o’ them, annyways!” added Tom, noways abashed. “Jim,” said Harry, turning to his aie se ‘*yvou’d better kick me off the force. I deserve it. I’m not only guilty of a breach of discipline myself, but I am the cause of an open defiance of the officers of the law.” ‘*Obey the order you have received!” com- manded Jim, coldly. With a sigh the young deputy turned on his heel and walked back into the court-room. “Tt’s of no use!” he said. ‘“‘I am tied hand and foot!” Seen Tom and Dick now began to feel rather un- easy as to the probable outcome to themselves. ‘*Dey’ll jug us, at de least calcalation!” mut- tered the latter, with a feeling of resentment toward Harry, as if he had left them in the lurch after they had shown their readiness to stand by him, come what might. Tom said nothing, but he looked dogged. Jim Gladden, when he had seen his subordi- nate re-enter the dance-house, turned without so much asa glance at his pards, and strode off down the street. The posse followed him. But one of them, looking back, shook his fist at the boys with a laugh, muttering: “You young divils! you've got off ’aisy this time. ‘* What’ll we do?” asked Dick. ‘“* Go back into the court?” suggested Tom. “No, we won't!” cried Dick, with a look of sudden resolve. ‘* What will we do, then?” asked Tom. “We'll do jist what Harry wanted to do,” re- sponded Dick. ‘‘ We'll go along 0’ dese ee an’ let Missy Miriam know dat de pards is a- stan’in’ by her yit!” oO ‘* Let thim ketch us a-follyin’ o’ them!” cried pine gerne Ss “What kin dey do?” demanded Dick, pug- naciously. ‘* Kick the likes of us to Kingdom-come, fur wan thing, if they don’t take it*into their heads to shoot us fur nosin’ around whayre we've no business to!” ‘“ Ef you’s skeered, you'd better go home to yo’ mammy!” said Dick. Ané@ in fine scorn he marched off after the marshal and his posse. “* Afraid, is it?’ shouted Tom. ‘ Divil sw’ape the like o° me!” And he “ followed suit.” Jim Gladden did not go directly to old Abra- ham’s house, but kept on down the —— > it, to a saloon whence proceeded a of ging and a curious series of yells, or rather elps. ” It was the only sound in the camp, save those that came from the court-room, where the whole population were assembled. ere Jim found a listless barkeeper, leaning with his elbows on his deserted bar, with a lazy grin on his repulsive face, as of a man who was trying to make the most of mighty poor fun. fore him, in the middle of the room, with a bottle in one hand and in the other a glass from which its contents kept slopping as he moved, a solitary patron was executing a sort of drunken Injun war-dance. it was evident that this solitary reveler was enjoying himself to the full; and the very ab- surdity of is antics, and his perfect self-con- tentment, would have convul with laughter one who witnessed the performance for the first time. Espying the marshal and his men, he cried out to them, without abating his capers: “Hello, fellers! Jim, ole man, step right up hyar, an’ j‘ine in the light fantastic! Order yer own liquor, an’ have it chalked down to your obedient. I’m in funds to-day, fur the first time in a dog’s age!” And this was Doc Sawyer. ‘““Look a-hyar!” called out Jim Gladden, roughly. ‘*Stop that tomfoolery, an’ listen to e ““Wha’s the row, ole man?—wha’s the row?” asked the doctor, nothing disturbed. ‘‘ Wetyer whistle before you begin. Take the hoarseness out o’ yer voice.” ‘* You hyear me?” cried Jim, ‘‘ You cut this camp instanter. An’ ef you come loafin’ about while the court’s a-settin’ you'll see the inside o’ the new calaboose—an’ thar ain’t no lie in that!” Doc suddenly a sg and stared. Jim turned on bis heel, and left the place without further words. He was followed out by the doctor, ‘cn tie keen jump.” ** Hold on, Jim!” he pleaded. ‘‘ What is in the wind, anyway?” “It’s that snide certificate o’ yourn,” rejoin- ed Jim, fiercely. “Tt didn’t go through?” asked Doe, in seeming rise. “*Thar’ll somethin’ go through you, ef you don’t flit!” ‘*Give me five minutes’ start, an’ when I git back it’ll be my treat!” ¢ The doctor’s horse stood before the saloon. With his last words yet on his lips, his foot was in the stirrup. The next instant the dust flew from his horse’s flying hoofs. Jim Gladden had turned his back upon the derelict ‘‘ saw-bones,’ and was striding toward Abraham’s store. But this diversion had given the alert pards their opportunity. “See!” cried Tom, as the posse passed Abra- ham’s on their way to warn Sawyer. ‘“ We'll cut in an’ give the gerrul the tip.” “Dat’s jist what we’s up to!” assented Dick. And they slipped to the back of the house. ‘Missy Miriam! Missy Miriam!” cried Dick, thumping on the kitchen door. Left alone,a prey to a thousand undefined fears, the girl had flitted about the empty house on tiptoe, like a frightened wraith, peeae J to every sound, until her very solitude had ven her to her room, to lie cowering on her couch with the blankets thrown over her head. : knocking startled her, so that for a time the wild beating of her own heart drowned every other sound. But presently she made out Dick’s voice; and with a low cry of delight, she ran to a back win- dow overlooking the roof of a lean-to, and out w the waitin s. PReen the cuiftate A both made mo- tions to ; and in a momert she had cautious- \ - vse
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% J ~~ oy : Str / he ee ee on 4 ly lifted the window, to hear what they had to say. Both spoke at once, to the effect that some one was coming after her, but that she need have no fears, as the Three Jolly Pards were sworn to stand by her through fire and water. ‘*Ts it-is it—Meestar—Meestar Keene?” she stammered, blushing rosy red. ‘*Divil a wan of him!” replied Tom. ‘It’s Jim Gladden—no less. But we can’t stand cbin- nin’ here all day.. Mind yer eye!” And with this parting injunction, the signifi- cance of which was not quite clear to the girl, her friends glided away. What was she to make of it? Evidently they were apprehensive of being caught communicat- ing with her. Then it could not be that Jim Gladden was coming in a friendly spirit. Had he too turned against. her? Her heart beat wildly. A moment later she heard his summons at the front door. It was the peremptory knock of an officer of the law, who would brook no denial. here were her parents? Where was her lover? Must: she meet this terrible marshal alone? With her knees sinking under her, she went down and opened to him, , CHAPTER XX, SALOMANS ‘‘ DOWN.” DepRIVED of the disguise in whith she was wont to appear, Miriam had instinctively thrown a heavy vail over her head. The members of the marshal’s posse stared at her shrinking figure with undisguised admira- tion. But Jim Gladden’s heart was touched. ‘* Ye hain’t no call fur to be afeard o’ me, nor of any 0’ the boys,” he said, kindly. ‘* We air yer solid friends, ye onderstand, 1 wish I could | say the same o’ some o’ them as is nearest to ye, an’ as is playin’ a low-down game on ye, bein’s as how it’s accordin’ to natur’ that you’d tie to ‘em, an’ ‘low as they’d use ye right.” ‘* What would you with me, kint shentleman?” asked Miriam, in a quivering voice, plainly not com rehending his words. ‘Waal, we’re ‘lowin’ fur to take ye into _ court—” ‘* Court?” gasped thegirl. ‘‘ Ah! kint shentle- man, believe me, I have wronged no one!” ‘¢ Ye ain’t to consider as you’re under arrest, ye onderstand. Jest furgit as I’m the marshal, an’ reckon me only one o’ the boys what is sworn fur to see you through, ag’in’ friends or foes.” **You will protect me ‘“Now you've got it, hold on toit! That’s jest what I'm "lowin’ fur todo. You come along 0’ me; an’ the two-legged critter as da’st to put a finger on ye ag’in’ your SAY-SO, will ‘low as how a cyclone has struck him.’ e held out his hand, The girl put hers in his _ with a sudden confidence in his hearty assur- ances, The posse fell into the rear, and so they set out for the court. But at this moment a man came tearing out of the Terpsichorean Hall, waving a bit of paper _ frantically above his head, as he caught sight of the marshal and his squad. ‘* Hold on, Jim!” he shouted, as he approached breathlessly. ‘* What's the row now, Tomkins?” asked the marshal, as he recognized one of bis own men, who had been left with Harry to guard the road- agents. “The thing’s off. The boss told me to stop ou, make ur break, an’ hyar’s the dockyment it. Jim = at the Leg which was handed to him. It was a hurried line from Colonel Blood, to this effect: ‘Let up on the girl. The court has granted the postponement. If you have the defendant out of the house when this reaches you, hurry her back, and don’t give away our flank movement. Wecan’t afford to make any false play in this game of wits.” Jim fairly snorted with disgust. ** And this is law!” he growled, crumpling the paper in his hands. ‘A game of wits between a couple of pettifogging attorneys! I thought we was goin’ fur to Pn the camp on a square footin’, but hang me ef Judge Lynch don’t beat this. He don’t go sneakin’ around in an’ out o’ back doors, whatever else be may do.” _, But the attorney was running thething. Jim * obeyed orders, if he broke owners.” ‘* Miss,” said the honest marshal, turning to Miriam, ‘‘i hope you won’t la this hyar up sarvent. ‘ane Jos bn do A duty a square man, these hyar c gits away with me bad /” if i i Sa wS ‘ + cy “ Jim Gladden’s Deputy. Miriam was only too glad to be returnec to her home, without having to undergo the ordeal of being dragged into court. As they saw ber led back, Tom and Dick could not forego the temptation to swing their hats and cheer lustily. ‘Fur unadulterated gall,” observed one of the posse, ‘* recommend me to the Three Jolly Pards!” Of course the triumph of Mr. Midge was with the connivance of his brother attorney. In spite of his great show of opposition, which took in the boys, Colonel Blood was careful to make no point that would weigh with the court. When the decision was rendered, Abraham got up and looked about him like one dazed. Rebecea was weeping spasmodically. ‘*Come, come, my dear!” he said, with his hand on her shoulder. ‘‘Our darling is safe now.” She rose, and together the two tottered from the room, the boys cheering at their tri- ph. ‘© What is this?” hissed Salomans in the ear of his attorney. ‘‘ It is an infamous imposture!” ‘* But it’s all reg’lar,” responded the colonel, placidly. ** But what are we to do?” “Come ag’in!” Salomans geome his teeth in impotent rage. “T can’t hang about here all summer!” he muttered to himself. ‘* This thing will make a noise; and who knows but it will bring those accursed Irishmen down upon me any day?” But it was useless to ‘‘ kick” against the or- dering of the court. The next case was already being called, and the business of ‘‘ justice” flowed on as smoothly as if lsaac Salomans’s for- tunes were of no consequence whatever. “That old scoundrel has three days in which to give me the slip!” reflected the luckless Isaac. ‘* Well, we'll see who wins!” He set his teeth, and walked out of the court with a determined look. ‘*Ta! ta! Call an’ see us later!” jeered one of the miners as he passed, The boys ‘‘caught on” in an instant, and the baffled Israelite was pelted with a perfect hail of chaff. It would not do to fall out with the crowd, so Salomans turned with a good-natured laugh. ‘This is only the first hand, boys,” he said. “Wait until we throw ’em around again. Meanwhile, I acknowledge the corn. All that can get up to the bar, come and crook your elbows with me for better luck next time.” All that could get to the bar! Who couldn't? They solved the problem by circling round the room lke a herd of cattle at around-up! In this maneuver not a few “crooked their el- bows” more than once, Isaac had a pretty bill to pay, but he had con- quered the crowd once more, After the adjournment of the court for the day, he saw his lawyer. “Tt is only a scheme to gain time for another attempt to run the girl off,” he declared. **No doubt,” admitted the colonel. “ What are we to do?” “ Watch them.” ‘*Tt will take men to do that.” ‘* My dear sir, if you had counseled with me before opening the case, I should have — you the same advice I give to every one on the eve of such a step.” ** And that is?” ‘* Count the cost before you begin!” “Hang the cost!” “Ah! If that’s your spirit—and I admire your pluck—you have but to put down your money, and you'll find men ready enough to pick it up.” ** Pll do it.” ** Go in, sir—and win!” Meanwhile, the old le had plucked up strength and courage, as they issued from the stifling air of the court-room into the free mountain breezes outside. Nearing their home, their steps quickened almost into a run. Miriam opened the door even before they roger a hand upon it, and with a stifled cry eaped into their arms. ‘* Back! back!” cautioned Abraham, fearful lest she be seen. But the girl had fainted. The long and terri- bs suspense over, she drooped like a broken ower. Her grandparents carried her into the house, and then, cheating, her and each other, mingled their tears of relief. ““Ab! never, never, never leave me alone n!” she breathed, assoon as she could speak. en, while she clung to both of them with trembling hands, she told them of the ordeal through which she bad passed in solitude. Abraham was greatly disturbed by the dis- covery of their trick, but Mr. Midge, when he appeared, reassured him. ‘ “Oh, that’s nothing,” he said, tlandly. ‘“‘That’s all in the way of business, you know. I have no doubt there are tricks in your trade as well.” Abraham did not see the quiet joke contained in these words. He poured out his gratitude on the attorney, drew forth a money-bag of goodly proportions, and overrode Mr. Midge’s mild pro- tests as he pressed a very respectable fee upon him. Harry felt bound in honor to have no part in the plot to spirit Miriam off, so, when the mat- ter was opened, he took her into the store, leaving the others to arrange it all, in the living room. At this point there came a cautious knock at the back door. Abraham was alarmed, but reassured when he found that it was Tom and Dick. ““ Ay ye pl’aze, sor!” said Tom, taking off his cap, and bowing with a ap a of bis foot, “it’s the likes of us as allowed that the two of us wouldn’t be in the way whin it come to plan- ning to run the colleen out o’ this.” ‘In de vay!” cried Abraham, bustling the boys indoors. ‘‘ You vill nefer be in de vay in dis house!” In the store Harry heard the entrance of his pards with a sigh of regret. ‘‘ Miriam,” he asked, ‘‘can you forgive me for leaving your safety to others?” Seated beside her on a box of stogie boots, he held her hand in his. She had leaned her head against his shoulder with a trusting dependence that charmed him. ‘* Forgife you!” she breathed, ays her eyes to his face so that they gleamed in the light that shone through the open door from the other room, “You know that my word is pledged to Jim Gladden.” ** Ah, yes!” she answered. After a momentary pause, she went on: “You were reaty to sacrifice your life for me. You do not think I would ask you to gif your honor too? No! no!” Then she dropped her voice, until, even with her lips close to his ear, he could scarcely make out its tremulous accents, as she whispered: “T vould not lofe you so, if you did not put your honor before efen your lofe for me!” He could not reply in words. But as he ressed her close to bis heart, he swore within himself that while he lived no act of his should make him unworthy of such a counselor, — When he could command himself, he ob- served: “T once beard it said that men are what women make them, If you don’t make a noble a me, Miriam, I must be of mighty poor stock! CHAPTER XXI. THE JOLLY PARDS’ TRIUMPH. Two days went by. On the last night that the court was to be in Paddy’s Flat, the boys arranged to celebrate its first session by a grand ** blow-out.” Who was the prime mover in this scheme? The outward suggestion came from Dinny Mc- Gee. The idea originated in a close council consisting of the Honorable Mr. Midge and the equally honorable Colonel Blood, ‘* Everything is in readiness?” whispered the colonel, at the last moment. “ Your obedient servant has had the manage- ment of the case,” replied Mr. Midge, as if that was assurance enough. “The parties are worth milking,” added the colonel, anxiously. ‘“‘If we stave off the case now, it is bound to come up again, and that means a double fee.” * ““Meanwhile,” pursued Mr. Midge, di of the matter in his summary way, ‘‘1 have made a discovery.” ‘“A counterplot? Has the scoundrel tried to steal a march on me, his counsel bs The colonel spoke indignantly, as if this would be very shabby treatment. “Cale Burchard an povegaes Banty are in the camp,” said Mr. Midge, quietly. Colonel Blood fairly leaped from his seat. ‘* No!” he almost shouted. Mr. Midge smoked on calmly. “The seamps who made the first assault on — the defendant,” continued the colonel. “If that were all,” answered Mr, Midge, **f should say nothing about it.” x aor th any other interest for eZ ey are in league your client.” » es What” ,
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Jim Gladden’s Deputy. But ejaculations were lost on the unruffled Midge. He never answered them, In reply to a direct question, however, he explained the relations of the precious trio. ‘But they will be detected, lynched!..Our man will be in the same boat with them. Then good-by to our fees!” cried the colonel, in an agony of apprehension, ‘* Don’t you suppose they would take ordinary precautions? They are in disguise.” ‘*Which you penetrated! But, look here! How is it that you come to know all about these fellows? You have never somuch as seen them.” ‘*On the contrary, I saw them last night. It seemed to me worth while to watch Salomans. His partners in crime were calling him to ac- count for the eee of his case.” ‘*The scoundrels will balk us by watching the girl!” ‘*At the proper moment, Messrs. Cale and Banty will be disposed of.” ‘Eh? Have you let our boys into the thing?” ‘* With tae certainty that they would at once jump upon the rascals, and blow the whole thing? Excuse me! I’m not throwing cases over my shoulder so recklessly.” ** But how will you fix them, then?” ‘By my own tools, working blindly.” ‘**T leave it to you, Midge,” said the colonel, with a shake of the head. ‘‘Egad! I’m going this thing almost as blindly as your other tools?” ‘*On better pay,” hinted Mr. Midge, blowing a ring of smoke. é ‘*Well, you are square in that particular,” admitted the colonel. A ‘‘1t’s honor among thieves,” explained Mr. Midge, placidly. 5 The colonel made a wry face, but said nothing. So the night came, and the Terpsichorean Hall was ablaze, and overflowing with the sounds of revelry. ’ Of all present, not one danced with a merrier abandon than Judge Owney Maglochlin. Ah! but he did the owld sod honor that night! And where was a blither laugh than his, or a slyer wink as he chucked his partners under the chin, with speeches that come so readily only to lips that have kissed the Blarney Stone? Who was it that put it into his head to drink every one of a select party stone blind? The competitors he selected included the attorneys, Jim Gladden and several other leading men of the camp, and Isaac Salomans, He would have added the young deputy to the list, but Harry said no with a firmness that won the respect of even the rattlebrained Irish- man, ‘* Well, me b’y,” he said, clapping his hand on Harry’s shoulder, ‘I like to see a mon that can put his fut down and kape it thayre. Thayre’s the right stuff in yez, wan way 0’ sp’akin’, but this here’s the right stuff for Owney Maglochlin, an’ don’t ye forget it!” ? P Salomans was especially suspicious of this night; but, having particularly charged his men to vigilance, and with Cale and Banty also on the watch, what had he to faear? Still he resolved to be temperate. He would sham drunkenness, if necessary, to prevent the merry judge from filling him up. But Salomans “counted without his host,” literally. That host was Dinny McGee, and aad cGee was devoted to the Three Jolly ards. “Faith! aren’t the young imps the favorite institutions 0’ the place? An’ thayre’s the Pride © Paddy’s Flat, God bless her swate pictur’! Js yan’ spalpeen to step in an’ cl’ane out the camp intirely? Bod luck till his ugly mug, it’s Dinny McGee that’s the by to fix ‘um!” And he did ‘‘ fix” Mr. Salomans, having the handling of the liquor he drank, Outside similar precautions were being taken. A.sweetheart of one of the men in Salomans’s employ—of course Colonel Blood knew them all —was bought over in the interest of the beauti- ful Jewess, or perhaps it would be more correct to say in the interests of the young deputy. All the world loves a lover; and, snre, wasn’t it Kitty wg that had pronounced Harry “a broth of a b’y!” ““Be me sowl, Pat, darlint,” she declared, having crept out to where her lover and his fel- low-watchers were listening wistfully to the sounds of revel that came from the Terpsi- chorean Hall, ‘what is it but a shame that you le should be out here in the cold an’ dairkness, whin thayre’s such rare sport a-going? Faith, Ive brought yez a wap by way of consola- on “* God bless you, Kitty Terryl!” cried honest Pat, as the girl produced two bottles from under her apron. ‘‘ Whist, b’ys! here’s rare luck! It’s not the rough-on-rats that Dinny McGee sells us poor devils fur whisky, but it’s some o the r’ale owld stuff!” ‘* And why not?” cried Kitty, with fine scorn in her voice. ‘‘Are there foiner gintlemen in yandher than out here? Dhrink hearty, b’ys. t’s the shany’s money that pays for it.” They needed no prompting. The bottles passed round until they were as dry as squeezing and sucking could make them. But Dinny McGee had had a hand at “ fixing ” these too, under the direction of no less skilled a yerson than Doc Sawyer, who had returned oldly to the camp. He knew that he was a handy man to have about, where pistols and whisky were pleuty. It would be useless to fine him—he never had any money; and the boys couldn’t afford to let him go to prison. By twelve o’clock, all of Isaac Salomans’s trusted watchers had succumbed to the sedative effect of the ‘‘ r’ale owld stuff” that Kitty Ter- ryl had so kindly brought them, while indoors Isaac Salomans himself was sleeping the sleep of the just beside Judge Owney MaSlochlin and not a few others. And what of Cale and Banty? There was no one to fetch them liquor. But there was a man with the stealthiness, the agility and the strength of a mountain cat, who crept upon them in the darkness. A blow, and Cale Burchard lay stunned. A rush, and Banty was in the clutches of an un- seen antagonist. He fought like a demon, be- lieving that he and his partner were detected, and were to be handed over to the hangman. But he was choked into insensibility, and then bound and gagged along with his comrade. Then forth from Abraham’s back door crept a little knot of shadowy figures—only Tom Murphy, Dick Johnson, and the tremblin Miriam. A murmur, a sob, and the door rw noiselessly again. Then ‘all was deathlike silence. How did they ride that night? Where did they go? In an agony of suspense, Harry him- self did not know. Before supper he had parted with Miriam, clinging to her hands, gazing into her eyes, and striving to stimulate her wavering courage. During all the evening he remaired at the Terpsichorean Hall, so that Jim Gladden should know that he was not directly implicated. In the morning the camp was treated to a lit- tle comedy. Abraham went raging up and down the street, tearing his beard and hair, and denouncing Isaac Salomans. He declared that the latter, not relying upon the issue of a fair trial, had robbed him of his child. He had gone to bed suspecting nothing. In the morning he had risen to find his home desolated. In the silence of the night, emis- saries of this arch villain had stolen in and ab- ducted the flower of his life. Even Rebecca joined her husband, wringing he rhands and moaning. Of course everybody knew that this was all humbug. But the boys roared with laughter to see how the old fraud tried to turn the tables on his son-in-law. Even judge Owney Maglochlin, when he had had his head under the pump, and had brightened himself up with his morning “‘snifter,” laughed and shook his finger at the deputy marshal, calling him a ‘‘ young divil,” to outwit them all so. But Harry protested his innocence, and after looking him steadily in the eye, Jim Gladden be- lieved him, in spite of a pearances, and what- ever any one else might think, Jim was humiliated. He had undertaken to see that Abraham did not defeat the ends of justice if Harry performed his duty. Harry ad kept his pledge, yet the girl was gone. Isaac Salomans was furious. He went to bis watchers. But Kitty Terry] had roused her lover before daybreak, and he had wakened his companions. They declared to a man that no one had approached or left the house that night. To screen themselves they started the theory that the girl had been taken from her home three days before, while the court was passing upon her supposed illness, Jim Gladden and his men knew better than this, but they said nothing, In all the crowd, the most innocent-looking persons were Dick Johnson and Tom Murphy, who had got back before daybreak. But the were not idle. They moved about in the crowd, dropping a word here and there, and before lon it began to appear that the temper of the crow was undergoing a change. Suddenly a great shout arose, and the youn deputy appeared carried on the shoulders o some of his enthusiastic admirers. He was borne Theat down the street with hg and Jaughter. © boys began to feel that the Pride of Paddy’s , bold Jim. | matter,” he said. 15 Flat was being persecuted, and that the young deputy had outwitted a father whom she did not care to welcome. Of a sudden a great uproar arose. The whole crowd aa 9 toward a common center, and a fierce struggle ensued, in which men tumbled over one another, and arms and legs interweaved indiscriminately. Forth from this mass of writhing humanity issued a man, running as men only run for their lives, his hat gone, his clothes torn, and a streak of blood across his ghastly face. It was Salomans, pursued by a howling mob! A moment later, and he stood panting, end swallowing spasmodically, to relieve the pain in his throat where a hand of iron had gripped it, while between him and his pursuers ap- peared Jim Gladden with drawn revolvers. **Hold on, men!” shouted the wmarsbal. ‘You're all my friends, I hope, an’ I should hate to lay any of you out; but thar’ll be a few dead men around hyar before another hand is laid on this hyar man. Right or wrong, he’s stood by the law, and now the law’ll stand by him.” In a twinkling another took his place beside It was his deputy. ‘“‘No friend of mine goes — further in this ** Maybe I haven’t set you a very law-abiding example, but surely we have no further use for lynch-law with a regular court sitting in our very midst.” ‘‘ Boys, the thing’s off,” shouted a stentorian voice. ‘Jt is a leetle rough on the court. But we'll jest bow this hyar chap out o’ the camp, an’ invite him to forgit the way back. Thar can’t be no harm in that.” And the crowd compromised on these lines. Salomans was escorted to the outskirts of the camp, and there bade g ; with a hint that that wasn’t a healthy section for one of his delicate constitution. At a distance from the camp, he was i by his confederates. They had been released before daylight, and told to ‘‘ git.” ‘*'We don’t give ye away this deal, boys,” said the man who had laid them out, re- ating blindly the words that the Honorable r. Midge had put into his mouth, “‘ but ef we ketch you loafin’ about byar in, it’s yer own neral. Take a fool’sadvice. Git, an’ stay got!” Believing that their disguise had been pene- trated, they were ata loss to surmise why they had been let off. But the thing wore a sinister aspect. When an enemy forbears, look out! o the baffled plotters were a sorry lot all round, and did not improve one another's temper. That afternoon the court adjourned and went its way. The attorneys counted their fees with complacency. The judge was as serene as a May morning. The shadows of wes had scarcely fallen, when suddenly there bloomed forth a demonstra- ae evidently had been prepared before- u All one end of the camp was ablaze with light, ' while the air rung with cheer on cheer. Then a stream of men, all bearing torches, came pour- ing down the one street. n their midst an equestrian group formed center for all eyes. In the van rode a girl, vailed as heretofore, but evidently young and beautiful, as the ele- ant contour and graceful movements of her cone showed, On her right rode Tom Murphy, and on her left Dick Johnson; and this was the proudest hour of their lives. Tbey drew rein before old Abraham’s door, where Harry, the young wy 2 Se aalemage sup- ported the trembling figure of Rebecca, while Abraham stood with ed head, tears of grate- ful joy streaming down his cheeks. It was Ha who lifted the restored Miriam from her.saddle, and placed her in the arms of her kiné.d. In that momentary half embrace, he only murmured ber name, so low that she alone heard; but it was enough. Abraham essayed to thank bis fellow towns- men, but broke down, and could only bow his gratitude. When the boys chaffed Jim Gladden, he laughed. *Tt’s all right, boys. I tried to do my duty, as I would ag’in; but the Jolly Pards got awa with me. I’m free to say I don’t bear ’em no ill- will, an’ hyar’s my attire on it.” Harry received the hand modestly, but told Jim that he must settle the matter with his pards, So all was happiness once more. The Jolly Pards had triumphed. THE END. . as
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BEADLE’S* H ALF- DIME* LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents. No Double Numbers, BY EDWARD L. WHEELER, Deadwood Dick Novels, 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road, 20 Double Daggers; or, Deadwood Dick’s Defiance, 28 Buffalo Ben; or, Deadwood Dick in Disguise. 85 Wiid Ivan, the Boy Clande Duval. 42 Phantom Miner; or, Deadwood Dick's Bonanza, 49 Omaha OL; or, Deadwood Dick in Danger. 5i Deadwood Dick's Eagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. 78 Deadwood Dick on Deck; or, Calamity Jane, the Heroine. %7 Corduroy Charlie 3 or, Deadwood Dick’s Last Act. 100 Deadwood Bick In Leadville. 104 Deadwood Dick’« Device; or, The Double Cross Sign. 109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s sulen. 188 Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Diek’s Home Base, 9 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike, 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood}; or, The Picked Party. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream ; or, The Rive le of the Road. 201 The Black Hille Jezebel; or, Deadwood D.ck’s Ward, 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane's Last Ad- venture. 217 Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. Sugar-Coated Sam; or, The Black Gown. 282 Gold-Dust Dick. A Romance of Rough. and Toughs, 268 Deadwood Dick’s Divide ; or, The Spirt of Swamp Lake. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail. 809 Deadwood Dick’s Big Deal; or, The Gold Brick of regon. 821 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats, 847 Deadwood Dick’s Ducats; or, Rainy Days in the Dig- ngs. 851 Senaweed Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta, 862 peadweed. Dick’s Claim; or, The Fairy Face of Faro ate. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. 410 Doadweed Dick’s Diamonds ; or, The Mystery of Joan ‘orter. 421 Deadwood Dick in New York; or, A “ Cute Care.” 480 Deadwood Dick’s Dust; or, The Chained Hand. 448 Deadwood Dick, Jr. 448 Nickel-Plate Ned; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Defiance. 8 Suntomes Sam, of Shasta; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Full and, 459 Flush Fan, tle Ferret; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Big Ronnd- 465 Phito Fly, of Phenix; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Racket at “Iaim 10, 471 Bozeman Bill; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Corral. 476 Humboldt Marry, the Hurricane; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Dog Detective. 481 Moll Mystery; or, Deadwood Dick Jr. in Deadwood. 491 Prince Pistol, the King of the West; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Compact. A96 Monte Cristo, Jr.: or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Inheritance. 500 Deadwood Dick’s Diggings ; or, Dr. Death-Grip’s Swoop. 508 Deadwood Dick’s Deliverance, 515 Deadwood Dick's Protegec. Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon. 82 Bob Woolf; or, The Girl Dead-Shot, 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York. 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, 6S Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn BIL; or, The Red Rifle Team, 69 Gold Rifle, the yogi en or, The Boy Detective. 80 Rosebud Rob Lo: Jugget Ned, the Knight. 84 Idyl, the Girl Miner; or, Rosebud Rob on Hand. 88 Phetograph Phil; or, Rosebud Rob’s Reappearance. 92 Canada Chet 3 or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp. 96 Watch-Eye; or, Arabs and Angels of a Great City, 118 Jack Moyle the Young Speculator. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective, 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner. 188 Boss Bob the King of Bootblacks. 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent. 145 Captain Perret, the New York Detective; or, Boss Bob’s Boss Job. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada} or, The Sierras Scamps. , 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo, * 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective. .218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter. ‘226 Bneaser, the Boy Sharp; or, The Arab Detéctive, 286 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator. bad alerra Sam, the Frontier Ferret. 48 Sierra Sam’s Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints. 258 Sierra Sam’s Pard; or, The Angel of Big Vista. 68 Sierra Sam’s Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 7% Jumbo Joe, the Boy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, 77 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen. 281 Denver Doll’s Vietory. 255 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or, Little Bill’s Bonanza, 291 Turk, the Boy Ferret. 296 Denver Doll’ Drift; or, The Road Queen. 299 A No. 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker. 808 Liza Jane, the Girl Miner; or, the Iron-Nerved Sport. 825 Kelley, Hickey & Companys the Sleuths of P tladelphia. B80 Little Quick-Shot; or, The Dead Face of Daggersville, 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miuer, 889 Kangaroo Kit’s Racket. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Blood. B58 First-Class Fred, ihe Gent trom Gopher. 868 Yreka Jim, the Gold-Gatherer; or, The Lottery of Life 872 Yreka Jim’s Prize. ons xreke Neds or, The Secret of Slab City. BR2 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, B85 Yreka Jim's Joker 3 or, The Rivals of Red Nose. 889 Bicycle Ben; or. The Lion of Lightning Lode, 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam, : 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective, 416 High Hat Harry, the Base Ball Detective. 426 Sam Slabsaldes, the Beggar-Bey Detective. 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. 488 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher. 486 Sealskin Sam, the Sparkler. BY PHILIP 8. WARNE. 6T Patent-Leather Joe; or, Old Rattlesnake, the Charmer. 175 Capvain Arizona; or, Patent-Leather Joe's Big Game, 198 Captain Mask ; or, Patent-Leather Joe’s Defeat. 219 Despard, the Duelist; or, The Mountain Vompires, 888 A Tough Boy; or, The Dwart’s Revenge. 868 Little Tornado ; or, The Outcasts of the Glen, B7B Little Jingo}; or, the Queer Pard. BRR Little Oh-my 3 or, Caught in His Own Trap. AOL Little Khoo. Fly j or, A Race for a Ranch. 408 Little Leather-Breeches ; or, Old Jumbo’s Curse, h Sin; or, The Curse of Blood, 451 Colorhido Kate. A Tale of the Mines. 480 Three Jolly Pards, BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 7 The Flying Yankee; or, The Ocean Outcast, 17. Ralph Roy, the Boy Buccancer; or. The Fugitive Yacht, 24 Diamond Dirks; or, The Mystery of the Yellowstone. 62 The Shadow Ship's or, The Rival Lieutenants, 75 The Boy Duelist; or, The Cruise of the Sea-Wolf 2 Dick Dead-Eye, the Boy Sinuggier. The Sea-Devil; or, he Midshipman’s Legacy. The Mussar Captain; or, The Hermit of Hell Gate, Little Grit; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter, Gold Plume; or, The Kid-Glove Sport. Bison BAIL, the Prince of the Reins. Grit, the Bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer. Crimson Kate 3 or, The Cowboy’s Triumph, 287 Lone Star, the Cowboy Captain. 245 Merle, the Middy 3 or, The Freelance Heir. 250 The Midshipman Mutineer; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer. 264 i, =e Floating Feather; or, Merle Monte’s Treasure sland. 26° The Gold Ship} or, Merle, the Condemned. 276 Merle Monte’s Crulse; or, The Chase of “The Gold Ship. 280 Merle Monte’s Fate; or, Pear!, the Pirate's Bride, 284 The Sean Murauder; or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. 257 Lilly Blue-Eyes, the Boy Rover of the Rio Grande. 804 The Dead Shot Dandy ; or, Benito, the Boy Bugler. 808 Keno Kits or, Dewd Shot Dandy’s Double. $14 che Mysterious Marauder; or, The Boy Bugler’s Long rail, 877 Bonodel, the Boy Rover; or, The Fiagless Schooner, B88 The Indian Pilot; or, The Search for Pirate Island, 8ST Warpath WII, the Boy Phantom. 898 Seawall, the Boy Lieutenant. 402 Inudor, the Voung Con«pirator; or, The Fatal League. 407 The Boy Insurgent; or, The Cuban Vendetta. 412 The Wild Vachtsamany or, The War-Clouu’s Cruise, 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. 483 A Cabin Boy’s Luck; or, The Corsair. 487 The Sea Ruider. 441 The Ocenun Firefly ; or, A Middy’s Ye geance. 446 Haphazard Harry 3 or, The Scapegrace of the Sea. 450 Wizard Will; or, The Boy Ferre. of New York. 454 Wizard Will's Street Scouts, 462 The Born Guide; or. The Sailor Boy Wanderer. 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Conster. 474 Florays or, Wizard Will’s Vagabond Pard. 488 Ferrets Afloats or, Wizard Will’s Lust Case. AST Nevada Ned, the Revolver Kanger. 495 Arizona doe the Boy Pard of Texas Jack. 497 Buck Taylor, King of the Cowboys. 508 The Royal Middy ; or, The Shark and the Sea Cat. =-scere SPrNo= Kee = io <4 BY BUFFALO BILL (Hon. Wm. F. Cody), 8 Kansas Kings or, The Red Right Hand. 19 The Phantom Spy: or, The Pilot of the Prairie. 55 Deadly-Eye, the Maksews Scout. 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. 158 Faney Frank of Colorado ; or, The Trapper’s Trust. BY CHARLES MORRIS, 118 Will Somers, the Boy Detective, 122 Phil Mardy, the Boss Boy. 126 Picayune Pete ; or, Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. 180 Detective Dick; or, The Hero in Rags. 142 Handsome Harry, the Bootblack Detective, 147 WIL Wildfire, the Thoroughbred. 152 Black Bess, Will Wildfire’s Racer. 7 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. 162 Will Wildfire in the Woods. 165 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy. 170 A Trump Card; or, Will Wildfire Wins and Loses, 174 Bob Rockett; or, Mysteries of New York. 179 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner. 188 The Hidden Hond or, Wi!l Wildfire’s Revenge. 187 Fred Nalyard, the Life Boat Boy; cr, The Smugglers, 189 Bob Rockett}; or, Driven to the Wall. 196 Shadowed ; or, Bob Rockett’s Fight for Life. 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King. 212 Dashing Daye, the Dandy Detective. 220 Tom Tanner; or, The Black Sheep ot the Flock, 225 Sam Charcoal the Premium Darky. 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. 242 The Two “ Bloods”; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. 252 Dick Dashaway ; or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago, 262 The Young Sleuths; or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail. 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. 289 Jolly Jim's Jobs or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young Thoroughbred. 805 PEABawWey, of Dakotas; or, A Western Lad in the Quaker sity. 824 Ralph Ready, the Hote] Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 858 The Reporter-Detective ; or, Fred Flyer’s Blizzard. 867 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times. 879 Larry, the Leveler; or, The Bloods of the Boulevard. 408 Firelly Jack, the River-Rat Detective. 428 The Lost Finger; or, The Entrapped Cashier. 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 482 Invincible L an, the Pinkerton Ferret. 456 Billy Brick, the Jolly Vagabond. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, Entombed Alive. 479 Detective Dodge; or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket. 501 Boots, the Boy Fireman ; or, Too Sharp for the Sharper. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. 2 Vellowstone Jack; or, The Trapper. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat, 65 Hurricane Bill; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard. 119 Wustens Rape 9 oc. 20 King of the Plains. Night-llawk Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch, 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 151 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. 160 The Black Giant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. 184 The Roy Trailers; or, Dainty Lance on the War- Path. 208 The Boy Parda; or, Dainty Lance Unmasks. 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City. 810 The Barranca Wolf; or, The Beautiful Decoy. 819 The Black Rider; or, The Horse-Thieves’ League. B85 Old Double Fist; or, The Strange Guide. 855 The King of the Woods: or Dame! Boone’s Last Trail. 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. BY EDWARD &, ELLIS, 6 Bill Biddon, Treppe. e 8 Seth Jones; or Captives of the Frontier. The Fate of the Sioux Captive. bs The Half-Blood; or, The Panther of the Plains. 271 The Huge Hunter; or, The Steam Prairie Man, BY OLL COOMES, Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew. The Dumb Spy. Abe, the Boy Guide. Keen-Knuife, the Prince of the Prairies. Lasso Jack, the Young Mustanger. The Border King ¢ or, The Secret Foe. Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. Hawk-eye paws» the Young Trapper Ringer. Rollo, the Boy Ranger. Sure Shot Seth, the Rifleman, Sear-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter, Silver Star, the Boy Knight. Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon. & Little Texas, the Young Mustanger, 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 182 Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain. 202 Prospect Pete; or, The Young Outlaw Honters, 208 The Boy Hercules: or, The Prairie Tramps, 218 Tiger Vom, the Texas Terror, 221 Dashing Dicks or, Trapper Tom’s Castle, 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad, 288 The Purson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, 248 The Diszuised Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. 272 Minkakin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy. 800 The Sky Demon ; or, Ruinbolt, the Ranger. 884 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero. 409 Hercules; or, Dick, the Boy Ranger. 417 Webtoot Mone, the Tramp Detective. 422 Sint Sam, the Boy Giant of the Yellowstone. 444 Little Buckskin, tne Young Prairie Centaur, 457 Wingedtoot Fred; or, Old Polar Saul, 468 Tamarac Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. 478 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic, 482 Stonewall Bob, the Boy Trojan. pT et cbaiessstens 1 1 1 1 1 Pa BY T. ©. HARBAUGH, 28 Nick o’ the Night; or, The Boy Spy of ’76. 87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Littl: Hunter, 47 Nightingale Nat3 or, The Forest Captains, 64 Dandy Jacky; or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trails. S82 Kit Harefoot the Wood-Hawk. 94 Midnight Jack ; or, The Boy Trapper. : 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 28 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 9 Judge Lynch, Jr. or, The Boy Vigilante. Gold Trigger, the Sport; or, The Gir) Avenger. Tornado Tom; or, Injun Jack From Red Core, Ned Temple, the Border Boy. Arkansaw ; or, The Quaen of Fate’s Revenge. Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. Captain Bullet; or, Little Topknot’s Crosade, Plucky Phil; or, Rosa, the Res Jezebe). 1 Bill Bravo; er, The Roughs of the Rockies. % Captain Apoll , the King-Pin of Bowie. 267 The Buckskin Detective. 279 Old Winch; or, The Buckskin Desperadoes. 294 Dynamite Dan; or, The Bowle Blade of Cochetopa, 802 The Mountain Detective; or, The Trigger Bar Bully, 816 Old Eclipse, Trump Curd of Arizona, $26 The Ten Pards; or. The Terror o! Take-Notice. 886 Big Benson; or, The Queen of the La so. 845 Pitilesas Matt; or, Red Thunderbol'’s Secret. BSH Cont sem ind Par’ o- The Terrible Six. 866 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. 886 Captain Cutlass; or, | he Br ecaneer’s Girl Foe. 896 Rough Rob; or, The | win Champions of Blue Blazes, 411 The Silken Laseo; or, The Rose of Rancu Robin, 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. 425 Texas Trump, the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. 445 The City Sleuths; or, Red Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Against Fifty; or, The Last Man of Keno Bar. 470 The Boy Shadow; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. 477 The Excelsior Sport; or, The Washington Spotter, 499 Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night Ferret. Pea sSseeans =O eESE BY ALBERT W. AIKEN. 11 The Two Detectives: or, The Fortunes of a Bowery Gir). 76 Abe Coit, the Crow-Killer; or, The Great Fighting Man o? e eat. 79 Sol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. 288 Joe Buck of Angels and His Boy Pard. 447 New York Nat. A Tale of Tricks and Traps in Gotham, 458 New England Nick; or, The Fortunes of a Foundling, 464 Nimble Nick, the Circus Prince. 498 Taos Ted, toe Arizona Sport. LATEST AND NEW ISSUES. 504 Five Points Phil, the Pavement Prince; or, Caught In the Spider’s Web. By Jo Pierce. 505 Powell’« Pard; or, The One-Armed Giaut. By Maj. H. B, Stoddard, Ex-Scout. 506 Realignt Ralph, the Prince of the Road. By J. C. Cowe rick. 507 The Hunted Midshipman. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 508 Deadwood Dick’s Deliverance. By E. L. Wheeler, 509 Jack Jaggers, the Butcher Boy Detective. By Jo Pierce. 510 Cool Colorado, the Half-Breed Detective. By A. W. Aiken, 511 The Outlawed Middy. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 512 Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. By T. C. Harbaugh, 518 The Demon Doctor. By Geo, C. Jenks. 514 Broadway Billy’s Boodle. By J. C. Cowdrick. 515 Deadwood Dick’s Protegee. By E. L. Wheeler. 516 Tartar Tim; or, Five Points Phil’s Menagerie. By Jo Pierce, 517 Jim Gladden’s Deputy. By P. 8. Warne. 5618 Cool Colorado in New York. By Albert W. Aiken. 519 Captain Mystery ; or, Five in One. By William G, Patten. 520 Buckskin Bill, the Comanche Shadow. By Colonel P, Ingraham. Ready July 12. 521 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge. By T. C. Harbaugh. Ready July 19. 522 Deadwood Dick’s Three. By Edward L, Wheeler. Ready July 26. 528 Seat nmr et the Dandy Sport. By Arthur F. Holt, A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Halt-Dime Library is for sale by all newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publich 98 William Street, New York.